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I squeezed my thighs together, hoping he didn’t notice. Everything about what had happened in the last thirty minutes guaranteed I’d be squirming in my seat through this whole dinner. I only just managed to stifle the soft moan that shot out of my throat as I was jostled in my seat by uneven road. The unexpected friction coupled with my wayward thoughts meant I was wound too tight.
The car eventually drew to a stop at the curb, and the slap of cold air when my door opened a moment later was just what I needed to clear my head. I turned to Torin to find his eyes scanning the surrounding street. He had one hand held out to me and the other tucked into the inside of his jacket. Placing my hand in his, I stepped free of the car, shivering in the night air.
Behind me, the rear door opened and closed, and Grayson eased around the trunk of the black Rover. Flanked by both men, we walked into the restaurant. Torin peeled away as I stepped through, leaving me to be enveloped by the warmth of a wood fire and the scent of garlic and oregano.
A red-headed hostess with a spray of pale brown freckles over her nose and cheeks greeted us at the door. “Your table is ready for you, Mr. Kent,” she said. “If you’d like to follow me?”
I followed her with Grayson tight to my ass—using his body as a shield. The other diners looked up as we passed but quickly averted their eyes once they saw who it was.
The table we stopped at was set for nine people.
“Jesus, who else is coming?”
Grayson pulled out a chair for me at the foot of the table, gesturing me to sit. Smoothing my dress under my ass, I hovered over the seat until he could slide it all the way in.
“The upper echelon of the clan.”
“And who are you? Are you part of the upper echelon or simply a meat shield?”
A small smile curved the corner of his mouth as he took the seat to my left. “The Warlord for the Mac Tíre Clan.”
“The Warlord,” I murmured. “What does the Warlord do?”
He settled into his chair, fixing those blue eyes of his on my face. “Traditionally, the Warlord is the head enforcer and primary strategist. He’s also responsible for keeping other clan members in line, but my role is slightly different.”
“In what way?”
“In the way that I’m more of a personal guard to Finnan.”
I felt my eyes widen. “A personal guard? How did that happen?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time.”
Narrowing his eyes on my face, he licked his lips and said, “I saved Finnan’s life.”
“And you were rewarded with this job as his personal guard?”
“Yes.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you haven’t been spending a lot of time with him lately. How can you be his personal guard if you’ve been with me?”
“You’re now an extension of Finnan.”
“An extension, huh?”
“You’re very important to him, Sloane. He’s giving up his guard for you.”
“Am I supposed to find that romantic?”
“You should. He’s risking his life to protect yours.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing. Clearing my throat, I asked, “Who else is coming to dinner tonight? Any other Warlords?”
A muscle in his jaw flexed. “No.”
“Who then?”
