Beware the Wicked Heir

by Mara McQueen

  His steady breathing calmed her down. She didn't need to cloud her thoughts with Milo. He didn't deserve her anger. "

  Thanks for your help, by the way.”

  “Anytime,” he said between kisses. “Now you know your coworker’s an asshole. If you had any doubts.”

  Milo was an asshole, and he didn’t deserve any more of her energy. Let him poach the Henderson contract—there wasn’t anything Olivia could do about it. She had secured the Bolton Manor listing and would get her commission.

  But, all of a sudden, her student loans seemed that much bigger and scarier.

  Olivia shook her head. She needed to snap out of it and focus on the here and the now.

  And right now she had one important question. “What about your coworkers?”

  What he'd done on that laptop didn't seem all that easy.

  She felt Kieran tense up behind her. “I don’t have any. Technically,” he said after a long silence.

  This was it. The moment Olivia could chicken out and just pretend she hadn’t seen what she’d definitely seen on his laptop.

  But she wanted to know more about him, her curiosity reaching unbearable levels. Who was this amazing man, secluded in this crumbling manor while he took care of his grandmother, who also took calls in foreign languages, and could track phones with just a few clicks?

  “I can’t wait for the day when I won’t have coworkers. Technically,” she said, smiling widely. “Cause I’m gonna be the boss.”

  “Look at you, Miss Ambitious Entrepreneur,” he said, the wicked glint in his eyes returning. His voice, however, still held a bit of strain that wasn’t usually there. One of his hands came up to Olivia's shoulder blades, his fingers digging in her tense muscles. “Someone needs to relax for a bit before she takes over the world. You’ve had a hard day.”

  Hard, batshit crazy. Whatever they called it, she wanted it to end. But she wanted answers even more.

  Olivia turned around in his arms and ran a finger down his eyebrow. Kieran leaned into her gentle touch, closing his eyes. Her hand tangled in his hair, drawing small loops at the back of his head. He looked so relaxed, Olivia thought he might start purring if she kept it up.

  She didn’t want to break this spell. Didn’t want to scare him off with questions she really wasn’t entitled to, and which were way too personal for two people who’d just met. Even ones who connected as much as they had.

  They only had a few days left together, hidden away from the world. Why bring reality into this beautiful thing they had?

  But her curiosity didn’t listen to logic, and Olivia didn’t have the best track record when it came to mysterious men.

  “So what are these not-quite-coworkers called?” she asked in the lightest tone her eagerness allowed.

  Kieran groaned, not opening his eyes. If anything, her way too invasive question seemed to please him, in some weird way. Men. “Out with it, Olivia. We don’t have enough time and, forgive my forwardness, I’d prefer not to spend it talking about this.”

  Fine. He wanted blunt, she’d give him blunt.

  “What exactly do you do for a living?”

  The question hung between them for a while. She ran her hands through his wild hair, he kept his mouth shut.

  “That depends,” he said finally and opened his eyes, calm and serious all of a sudden.

  “On?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to be affiliated with any individuals who have questionable occupations, would you?”

  Olivia raised her brows. “I thought my whole field was questionable to you.”

  “Touché.” He laughed, his chest rumbling in a distracting way. “I mean are all of your acquaintances law-abiding citizens? All your close friends love their country, would die for it, and all that drivel?”

  Olivia playfully shoved his chest. “You just wanna know everything about my ex-boyfriends, don’t you?”

  This was good. This was easy. Keeping everything light around a serious topic.

  Because something was off. Nobody hesitated to talk about their job if they were a lawyer or a banker. They'd boast about it, first pretentious opportunity they got.

  “Should I be concerned you’ll hack into my computer? Not that you’d find anything on it, but that’d be sleazy.”

  “You think I’m a simple hacker?”

  “Hey, have you seen what those people can do? That was a compliment, take it.”

  And if he didn’t start talking soon, she’d really start to worry. The power some of these new hacking programs had was enough to make a girl place all her awkward pictures and teenage melodramatic poetry on an external hard drive, carefully buried beneath a pile of socks.

  “I’m a data analyst,” he said after a few moments, keeping his gaze steady. Kieran, bless his handsome soul, actually look abashed, licking his lips, eyes darting across her face as if trying to anticipate whether he would scare her off if he spilled all his secrets. “Of sorts.”

  “And since when can data analysts block the phone signal near their property? I know that’s not a rich guy eccentricity.”

  “I’m very cautious,” he said and gripped her hands lightly. “I have a new project that requires high security. Even in what I believe you called ‘the middle of sodding nowhere’.”

  Olivia felt her cheeks blaze up, despite Kieran’s playful mood. She cleared her throat. “I don’t say sodding,” she mumbled, looking away.

  It was obvious what he was doing, trying to force the conversation in a different direction with very little finesse. “So how did you stumble into this very secretive business? Long nights spent in front of the computer in your teens?”

  He let go of her arms and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Olivia instantly missed his warmth.

  “I wanted to find someone and nobody was able to help me.”

  Olivia scoffed lightheartedly. “Celebrity crush address?”

  “No,” he said carefully and pushed his tongue against his cheek. “The woman who gave birth to me.”

  Olivia felt the air being punched out of her. She clenched her fists so tight, her long nails dug into her flesh.

  Of all the stupid things to ask.

  Her fifth-grade Maths teacher had been right —Olivia really did need to learn when to shut up.

  “I’m sorry...I...Did you find her?” Her voice sounded hollow and lifeless, just like the room felt now.

  “I did. But, like the man who helped create me, and who Nan insists on calling my father, she didn’t want anything to do with me. I have to hand it to my parents, they were as alike as two people can be. Solely focused on them, and with no time for their useless son.” He licked his lips again and forced a smile, not meeting Olivia’s questioning gaze. “So I made myself very useful. Got involved with an organization that, shall we say, hunts down some very powerful people who do some very questionable things. I’m in charge of digging up the secrets they don't want to see the light.”

  This...this was way more than Olivia had bargained for. “Are you some kind of digital spy?”

  Kieran threw his head back and let out a throaty laugh that vibrated straight through her chest. It was the first time he’d laughed like this, so unrestrained. Olivia loved it.

  “That’s a very nice way of describing what I do," he said. "But whatever you want to call it, nobody else needs to know about this.”

  Honestly, even if Olivia would’ve had someone to tell this to, how could she? For one, she wouldn’t betray his trust, but also, who the hell would believe her? This kind of “job” seemed so outside the realm of reality, even she had a hard time believing it.

  But it all made sense. The phone calls, the secrecy, the lightning-fast reflexes. And, somehow, it sounded perfect for Kieran. He seemed like such a force of nature, from the way he held himself, to that mysterious mind of his, that this secretive life of his just fit.

  “On the plus side,” he said, his grin tentatively returning. “When the machines rise, I’m going to be the sod c
ontrolling them, so I’m all set. I’ll be happy to put in a good word for you with our new leaders if you’d like.”

  Olivia followed his lead and mirrored his half-smile. He didn’t want to talk about his family—or lack thereof—and she understood that. She would’ve definitely hated it if he pried into her business, the whole shameful saga of how she’d managed to screw up almost every adult decision she’d ever made.

  But she liked this slow exchange, each of them gradually revealing themselves, shedding their masks and really looking at each other.

  The air in the room shifted, the tension dissipating as quickly as it had appeared.

  An unspoken promise lingered between them—I want to get close to you.

  And, oh, how Olivia wanted that, with every heartbeat and shallow breath. But her mind flooded with all the countless reasons she shouldn’t, and one thought played on a loop.

  When this week will be through, you’ll need to go back to reality, and you’ll get your heart broken.

  Olivia couldn’t risk losing her mind and her soul on a guy, even if that guy was Kieran.

  Perfect, amazing, incredible Kieran. She’d messed her life up years ago, and now she had to fix it, and falling for him could derail all that.

  But she didn’t say that. Didn’t burden him with her fears. Didn’t even linger on them. They only had a few more days, and she wanted to enjoy them.

  “I don’t think I’d need any help. After all, even malevolent robotic overlords need prime real estate. I think I’m all set for the next fifty years.”

  “That mind of yours,” he said and stroked her temples. “It works in mysterious ways.”

  Olivia shrugged. “That's my superpower.”

  “One of many.” Kieran chuckled, as his hands snaked to the small of her back, drawing her deliciously closer to him.

  His sharp grin promised the kind of passion Olivia wanted to get lost in, but for that to happen, she needed to wash the tunnels and their stench off her skin.

  She reluctantly disentangled herself from Kieran’s wandering hands, eliciting a low growl from him. “I’ll take a rain check.”

  Kieran nuzzled her cheek, his warm breath sending tingles down her spine. “I’m not a patient man.”

  “And here I thought you were perfect.” Olivia mock-sighed and patted his shoulder playfully. “See you in two hours.”

  He hesitantly let her go, eyes trailing her as she left his study. Not to be outdone, Olivia’s gaze lingered on his arms, imagining all the delicious ways he’d make her forget herself in just two short hours.

  But as soon as she shut the door and began walking toward her room, her heart did an uncomfortable flip.

  Good Lord, she already missed his raspy voice and that gaze of his that always met hers without hesitation.

  This wasn't good. This was a disaster waiting to happen. If she already missed him after just seeing him, how the hell would her soul survive leaving in only a few days?

  A Good Challenge

  Olivia took her sweet time doing absolutely nothing.

  The manor’s wooden skeleton creaked and groaned as the others moved around, like ants trapped in a farm. Though the sky hadn’t darkened enough to seek refuge inside, the light drizzle was as irksome as always.

  Olivia would probably have to either endure the following days inside or lug around Martin and Sarah’s crooked umbrella.

  The manor might have been suffocating her, but its narrow walls hadn’t driven her away. Yet.

  Just a few doors down, a charming man was waiting for her, after all. Olivia very much doubted a simple massage was the only thing on Kieran's mind. She couldn't wait to see where his mischievous thoughts would take them tonight.

  Her phone quietly charged—after Olivia had almost electrocuted herself trying to plug the damn thing in the unbalanced socket—and her baton rested on the nightstand.

  Olivia might’ve brought the wrong shoes, but she always had her weapon nearby.

  Two and a half hours later, after Olivia had primed and polished about every inch of her skin and hair, she decided she had tormented Kieran enough.

  She tried not to think about the stunt Milo had tried to pull. It made her illogically angry. And behind that anger, she felt betrayed.

  Despite their daily routine of picking on each other, she had stupidly thought her and Milo had respect for the other, buried deep, deep down. A certain professional understanding behind all those mean jokes. But no. He saw her as someone he could toy with to reach his goals.

  Fine. Olivia didn’t need tricks to beat him at his own game.

  Whatever plan Milo had, she needed to thwart it. He was not getting that promotion, no matter how many contracts he poached. She needed to be prepared for what he came back with on Monday.

  And she couldn't do that secluded at Bolton Manor, with no phone and no Internet connection. If she'd been back in Leeds by now...

  She was struck again by that tightening in her chest at the thought of leaving, and not seeing Kieran anymore. The harder she tried to logic the feeling away—it was natural to react this way, he was the first smart, funny, gorgeous man who dripped confidence and passion with each word he spoke she’d met in a long time—the more the sensation grew.

  She felt like her control was slipping. Her job and financial situation had brought nothing but stress, but her love life—or lack thereof—she'd been able to control. No getting involved more than her heart could handle, no second-guessing when it was time to leave.

  But her resolve had apparently taken a vacation because she actually ached with want. To see Kieran, talk to him, breathe him in.

  She couldn’t help herself. After so many years of relying solely on herself, he’d helped her out today, had calmed, had been there for her, and Olivia didn't know how to react.

  She wasn’t used to people not disappointing her. What was she supposed to do with all this decency? Want impossibly more of it—and him—apparently.

  But those thoughts had to wait until the morning because tonight she planned on enjoying her time with Kieran.

  She made her way to his study, phone in hand and handbag with a change of clothes on her shoulder. No more getting caught by Addie with her shirt in tatters.

  A furtive knock later, she entered his study, already picturing how this night would go.

  Kieran would swoop down and attack her neck, reddening her skin ever so delightfully with all the frustration of a man left waiting and wanting.

  But, as always, reality didn’t match her expectations.

  Kieran sat down with his long legs perched up on the desk, a book in his hands, a glass of something amber at the ready. Shouldn’t—shouldn’t he have been all over her as soon as she stepped into his study, one hand locking the door, the other grasping the hair on the back of her neck?

  He didn’t even acknowledge her, the prick.

  Olivia cleared her throat. Though spilling the half-finished drink on his shirt sounded like a nice alternative.

  Kieran didn’t look up as he turned a dusty page. “You’re late.”

  “Am I?” Olivia hated childish men. Thankfully, she could beat them at their game of immaturity each and every time. “I should just go then.”

  As her palm circled the door handle, Kieran slammed his book shut and advanced on her.

  Olivia smiled—success. He pressed his hand against the door and the other on her hip, trapping her between his body and the wood.

  This was good. This was easy. A game she could play without her heart suffering for it.

  “That’s not fair,” he said.

  “That book looked captivating. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  Kieran chuckled, his chest rumbling against her back. “Liar.”

  Olivia wanted to press herself back into him like a cat. She did the next best thing—locked the door securely. She turned around in his arms, loving the half-hooded look he gave her. “The best there is.”

  She shimmied from under his arm
and took a large sip from his glass. It tasted expensively foul; definitely not her thing. But then again, Kieran didn’t have anything of her usual type, all dark, mysterious lord, with tight suits and smoldering gazes. “What were you reading?”

  “Nineteenth-century philosophy.” He stood in front of her, only the desk separating them. Its polished surface taunted her, images of their first morning together invading her mind.

  Olivia pointed at the closed windows. “Goes with the weather.”

  Kieran laughed low in his throat and circled the desk slowly. Anticipation crackled between them, filling the room until the hairs on Olivia’s arms stood. Just as he raised his hands to reach for her shoulder, his blasted phone blared to life.

  “It seems the rest of the world needs my attention.” He sighed, gaze sending daggers at his phone. “Forgive me. I'll make up for it. Promise."

  Olivia swallowed her sigh of disappointment. “I’m not getting that special relaxation you bragged about, am I?”

  Kieran lifted his gaze, his eyes roaming over her body. He bit his lip. “You will. In five minutes.”

  Of course. Olivia didn’t know why she had even asked. Kieran kept her on her toes and was as unpredictable—deliciously so—as she could handle.

  “Fine, fine,” Olivia sighed dramatically and headed for his bedroom. “The wait better be worth it.”

  “It will.”

  She peeked at him over her shoulder. He hadn’t ever looked more appealing to her—his tight jaw, his sharp gaze trailing over a document, the straight back as he listened to whoever had interrupted them so rudely. Magnificent. Nothing sexier than an intelligent man lost in concentration.

  Nothing.

  Olivia imagined burrowing her fingers in his hair, pulling his head back and kissing the breath out of him, swallowing his complaints. Or draping herself over his desk while he read, like the odalisques in the paintings she would stare at for hours during college, drawing his attention with small kisses and feathery touches.

  She shook her head. Patience. She'd get to touch all of him soon.