Page 50 of Carnal Wagers

It had been one of the most memorable nights of my life, spent with a stranger I’d never been able to get out of my head, who’d taken my pain and helped me redirect it. That was the night I started to heal. Because of that stranger, I started to put myself first, and I never forgot him, even though he made it clear he could only ever give me that one night.

I scoffed and flicked the picture. My nail made a satisfying thwack against the glass.

“Unbelievable.”

“What?”

Nope, I was not letting the Cillian I now knew ruin that memory.

“Nothing.”

“Well, then get moving.”

I skimmed his desk for an agenda. His type was more likely to avoid putting their details online in case someone like Franc hacked their information. Paper could be burned. The internet, not so much.

“It’s a wonder Maeve ever lets you close with an attitude like that.”

“This I reserve just for you.”

“Oh yay, lucky me.”

I fiddled a pair of lockpicks into the keyhole of a locked drawer and listened for the soft click. There it was.

Inside the drawer lay a small leather journal, tied shut with a thin leather strap. Bingo. I leafed through the pages for the upcoming week. He didn’t seem to list his regular activities, such as his bi-weekly trips to the boxing gym, but there was a list of several business meetings, business notations, and contacts to call. I skipped over those, not remotely interested. However, there was also a note that popped out at me.

“Erel, look up ‘Car sideshow Stoughton,’ scheduled two days from now. Any idea what that might be?”

I sifted for clues through the other items in the drawer but found no new information.

“I have it,” Erel said. “It’s an illegal drag race on a street off the Fall River Expressway, about a half hour from the city, two days from now.”

Something else Cillian probably had an outfit for in that showroom of his.

“Fun.”

This drag race was a golden opportunity to hook and reel him in once and for all. No more of his ridiculous avoidance tactics. A man who kissed like he was about to devour a woman whole had to be ravenous for a good tumble in the sheets. I just needed to push past his defenses a little further.

“I want in, and I want every detail. Time. Place. His car. Make. Model. Everything you can get me.”

“You sure you want to risk getting noticed by the cops?”

“I’m sure I want to mess with his head, and that’s good enough for me.”

Maeve’s voice joined in from the background. “Find anything interesting?”

“Mon ange, we talked about this.” Erel switched to English, his voice a little muffled as if he’d pulled his microphone away.

“I still don’t get what the big deal is. One of you will tell me anyway.”

“We shouldn’t.”

“But you will.”

I could do without the kissing sounds across the line.

“My apartment, my rules, hot stuff. You either share, or you get out. Sure you want to play that game?”

I shook my head and scoffed at how Erel blubbered over his response to her. That girl had the toughest French hitman and second-in-command of the Côté d’Azur milieu wrapped tight around her little finger. One day, hopefully soon, I’d have someone like that too.