Destroy Me (Southern Nights: Enigma Book 3)

by Ella Sheridan

  Fionn followed more slowly, battling the need to pick Lyse up and stop the excruciating hobble that was barely getting her down the hall. Mack fell in beside him.

  “What’s the story?” Fionn asked. Anything for a distraction.

  “Everything went fine. Kyla is safe and healthy. We placed her with relatives for now, while Aileen’s mess is situated.”

  The young woman would likely be in the hospital for a bit. After that…well, that was up to the garda.

  A cut-off groan escaped between Lyse’s clenched teeth as Siobhan helped her into a chair. It’d been a good four hours or so since she’d been scheduled for a dose of medicine. If she hadn’t been moving, if the wound was anywhere but along the muscles she used to get up and down, it might not be so bad, but as it was, he winced in sympathy. Siobhan had the pill bottle in hand, so he moved to the fridge to pour some juice to help buffer Lyse’s stomach.

  “I’m fine,” she was saying. “Really.”

  “Don’t listen to her.” Mack settled into a chair across the table from Lyse. “It’s been a tough couple of hours.”

  “No, it hasn’t.”

  Based on the tightness around her eyes, Fionn had no doubt she was lying.

  “You’ve been after having a five-year-old climb over ya all afternoon.” Mack jerked his chin toward the full glass Fionn set on the table. “Drink up and hush.”

  The relief filling Lyse’s eyes as she palmed the pills Siobhan gave her spoke the truth. She might want to be tough, but his little computer nerd hadn’t been built for combat.

  Shock jolted down his spine. His?

  Lyse set the half-empty glass back on the table and breathed a sigh of relief. Her searching gaze found him across the room, sending a second jolt through his body.

  His.

  He leaned against the wall at his back, praying he didn’t look as white as he felt. Work was where he needed to focus, and yet Mack’s report on the afternoon was no more than a buzz in the back of his brain. All he could hear, all he could think about was Lyse and the deep sense of possession that had settled in his chest and refused to leave.

  No, that wasn’t it either. Not settled, not really—it had been there all along, but now there was no fighting it. He didn’t want to. Seeing her like this, vulnerable, unprotected…he needed to be the one to step in and care for her, past or no past. He didn’t even know if he gave a feck about the past anymore. All he knew was Lyse.

  He was so focused on her that when she bent forward and settled her forehead in her hand, he was the first one at her side.

  “I think it’s time for you to be lyin’ down a bit, yeah?” Sliding an arm under her knees and behind her back, he waited for her to grab on before lifting her carefully against his chest. “How ’bout a nap?”

  “I have work to do,” she murmured against his neck. The wash of her breath sent goose bumps along his skin.

  “I don’t think so, young lady,” Siobhan said behind them. “Sleep first.”

  “You heard the woman.” Fionn chuckled. “Besides, you’ve been after an excuse to get in my arms for how long?” He brought his lips to her forehead, pitching his voice so it stayed between the two of them in the darkness of the hall. “Now’s your chance, love. Don’t be blowing it.”

  Her head tilted back. A frown curved her lips. “I need to—”

  “What you need is to be resting.” He nudged their bedroom door open with his foot. “You know you work better at night anyway. The computer awaits. Later.” Laying Lyse gently on her side of the bed—when had it become her side and his side?—he settled the pillow beneath her head.

  Lyse stared up at him for a long time, eyes unreadable, then eased onto her side with a sigh. “Could you—”

  “Already on it,” he murmured. Her shoes came off first, then socks. He closed the bedroom door before dragging her jeans down her legs, knowing she’d sleep better without the constricting material. Either the medicine was mellowing her out or his comment about getting into his arms had struck true, because she didn’t protest, even when he eased onto the bed behind her and fished under her shirt to undo her bra.

  Wiggling carefully, Lyse managed to slide the straps down her arms, then tugged the bra from beneath her shirt. Lying like this, her ponytail exposing the vulnerable curve of her neck, her small form tucked to shield her belly, she made that protectiveness surge even harder inside him, till he couldn’t quite catch his breath. He wanted to lie down and curve his body around her. Keep her safe while she slept. But he wouldn’t. She’d asked him not to touch her if he didn’t mean it, and right now…well, he didn’t know what he was meaning.

  He knew his cock was hard, but then it tended to be that way around Lyse. That didn’t mean he was ready for anything besides taking her, though if he was honest, it wasn’t sex on his mind. The need crawling through his body wasn’t like anything he’d felt for another woman, ever. He didn’t know what to do with that realization. He didn’t know what to be doing, period, when it came to her.

  His fists clenched, fighting the raging desire to touch her—until, suddenly, he couldn’t fight it anymore. His hand came up, settled on her hair while he watched, almost mesmerized. The feel of warm silk registered against his calloused palm, drew a heavy sigh from him that ruffled the loose tendrils escaping her ponytail. Trying his best not to pull, Fionn slid the band away, allowing the heavy fall to settle on the pillow.

  “Thank you.”

  He didn’t respond, simply dug his fingers into her hair. Lyse moaned as he began a slow massage across her scalp. He assumed after a while that she’d drifted off, but quiet words startled him back to awareness.

  “What are we doing, Fionn?”

  His fingers went still, buried deep in the thick mass of her hair. She’d asked him that question before, and just like last time, he dodged the true answer. “Protecting my mam.”

  Prick.

  But just like last time, Lyse wasn’t giving him an out. “Not with them,” she whispered. Her voice had that drowsy roughness that he felt all the way to his groin. “With us. What are we doing? Just answer me, okay? Just this once.”

  Was she as confused as he was? Did she wonder why in hell she couldn’t seem to walk away from a man who wanted to hate her? He wanted to walk away—or he had. Past tense. Now he didn’t know what he wanted except to sink into the quiet and absorb the feel of her against his skin. Where did that leave them tomorrow?

  He couldn’t give her much more than honesty. Couldn’t give answers he didn’t know himself. “I don’t know, Lyse. How about we just go with it right now, and we can be charging back into battle in the morn?”

  Her head tilted, giving him her profile. The slightest grin played around her lips. “A truce?”

  “A truce.”

  Lyse rested her head back against the pillow. Instinct had Fionn shifting closer, cuddling her back to his front. The softness of her body, the scent of her filling his nose, sent awareness tingling inside him, but he ignored it. He tucked a pillow beneath his head, slid a hand under the hem of Lyse’s T-shirt, and, palm flat on her belly, eased her back until she rested her weight against him.

  Her breath went deep, even. The strangest calm filled him.

  “I can find it,” she whispered, barely audible. “I know I can, Fionn.”

  The money. And he realized, lying there with her in his arms, that he believed her. If anyone could find it, it was Lyse.

  “I know.” He nuzzled her neck gently. “Go to sleep now, love.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Avoiding me?”

  The deep rumble of Fionn’s voice tightened Lyse’s lower belly. That voice was sin and demand, the voice she’d dreamed about for years, fantasized about. Masturbated to.

  Yes, she was totally avoiding him, and she wasn’t sure why. Like a little girl that had been given the toy she’d begged for at Christmastime, only to set it aside and refuse to play with it.

  The memory of Fionn’s palm flat against
her belly button made her core heat. Her nipples tingle. No, she wouldn’t be refusing to play, but…

  “Lyse.”

  Damn.

  “Of course I’m not avoiding you.” But her hands stayed on the laptop, her eyes glued to the screen. Emotion churned in her chest.

  Afraid. That’s what was wrong. She was afraid—that he didn’t really want her, that she wouldn’t be enough for him. All that and more.

  His footsteps were always silent, but he couldn’t hide the heat of his body as he came to stand behind her chair. “Good, ’cause I’ll be sharing the night shift with you.”

  The two of them, closed up in this tiny room. Alone. At night.

  A shiver shot through her.

  Fionn settled one hand on the desk next to her, the other digging beneath her hair to cup her nape. She wasn’t sure which made her weakest, the sight of his bunched bicep flexing next to her—good God, total arm candy—or the sense that he controlled her very being with a single touch to one of the most sensitive parts of her body. Either way, her bones turned to mush and she found herself pressing back into the heat of his palm on her neck. He didn’t kiss her; he didn’t have to. That one touch was almost as intimate as if he’d delved between her legs.

  Or she imagined it was. The fact that she didn’t know for sure, had never really experienced a touch like that, made her heartbeat pound against her breastbone. Would Fionn be the first man to take over her body that way? Would he be disappointed?

  “What are you working on?”

  You expect me to work with your hands on me?

  “I…um…I was looking at the original investigation into your father’s…case.” His thumb was sliding up and down the side of her throat, a lazy glide that was scrambling her brain.

  “You’ve had, what, thirty minutes to hack the garda central computer and dig that up? That was quick.”

  Warmth flushed her cheeks, a totally different kind of pleasure. “It’s what I do.”

  “It is.” Fionn straightened, then took advantage of the wheeled chair to slide her back from the desk. “Right now, let’s be doing dinner, yeah?”

  It didn’t look like he was giving her a choice. Probably a good thing—she was fully capable of immersing herself in work to the detriment of everything around her, including her health, and tonight she had no desire to miss another dose of pain medicine. This afternoon had been a nightmare. “Okay.”

  When she stood, Fionn didn’t move. His big body blocked out the room, and when his arms came around her to plant on either side of her hips, his bulk forced her against the edge of the desk. Easing her butt onto the surface, she tried not to drool at the width of those muscular shoulders right in front of her.

  “I’m up here,” he said, amusement lightening his tone. If her cheeks had been warm before, now they went nuclear.

  She lifted her eyes to meet his gorgeous green ones. God. This man was too sexy to be real.

  Except the body he pushed between her knees to press against her was definitely real. Her throat closed, refusing her next breath. “What are you doing?”

  “We called a truce, remember?”

  A truce, not a full-on assault. “Of course I remember.” I also remember you wanting to kill me a few days ago.

  “A truce won’t be gettin’ us anywhere if I don’t give it my absolute best, will it?”

  “I…” It felt ridiculous to want to put on brakes when she was getting exactly what she’d dreamed about all these years. “I’m just…”

  “Uncertain?” One long finger came up beneath her chin, lifted. “Maybe a little scared?”

  Her gaze locked with his. The need she saw there stole any response she’d hoped to come up with.

  “I’ve been after scaring you too much up till now,” Fionn admitted, the fire dimming for the briefest moment in his eyes. “I’m sorry for that. And”—his finger slid along her jaw to a sensitive spot she hadn’t known about, just below her ear—“I know you’re not used to men, so I figure I need to be gettin’ you used to my touch a bit.”

  The realization that he knew exactly how innocent she was whispered through her mind, only to be swamped as the rest of his words registered.

  I’m afraid to get used to it. I’m afraid you’ll give me this and end up walking away in the end.

  But wasn’t that the risk in every relationship? They didn’t all work out. Was she truly considering not soaking in every moment, every touch, every breath Fionn would give her in the hope that she’d come out the other side of this whole? Because it didn’t matter how little she allowed herself. If he walked away, she’d shatter.

  Taking her courage in both hands, she swallowed hard. “Okay, Fionn.”

  Satisfaction flashed in his eyes just before he kissed her. He wasn’t gentle. No, this was the same warrior who’d taken her mouth with such brutality the first night he’d come for her, only the anger was missing. This was more like desperation, like he needed to own every last bit of her, this very second. His lips forced hers open; his tongue pushed inside, tangling with hers. He explored her mouth, her teeth, sucked at her tongue. It took her dazed mind a few minutes to realize that her hands were planted on the hard planes of his chest, that she could touch him, explore the lines and angles of his body if she wanted. Claim him as much as he was claiming her.

  And oh God, did he feel good.

  “Fionn, dinner!”

  Siobhan’s voice broke the spell surrounding them. Fionn pulled back slowly, his mouth seeming reluctant to leave hers behind. Beneath her palm, she recognized a rapid thump-thump-thump—his heart was pounding just like hers.

  Wonder flared inside her, washed her mind in bright white light. He really meant it. He might fake passion, but he couldn’t fake the racing of his heartbeat.

  “C’mon, love.” Fionn cleared his throat. “Let’s be getting you something to eat.”

  She nodded, still a little dazed. That lasted until they were descending the stairs, until the scent of roasted meat hit her nose and her stomach actually growled.

  Fionn chuckled. “Ya missed lunch.”

  And she felt it. The juice she’d had with her meds earlier couldn’t replace a full meal. “I could be completely full and my stomach would growl when I walked into your mother’s kitchen,” she admitted. “Siobhan is a fantastic cook.”

  “That she is.”

  Thank goodness everyone was fixing their plates when she and Fionn arrived. She didn’t have to wonder who had noticed their absence, if anyone was looking too closely at her lips, which she had no doubt were the slightest bit red and swollen—she knew because Fionn’s were. She’d done that, put the evidence of desire on his face. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever get past the thrill that just the thought sent rolling through her.

  “Lyse is going through the police report now,” Fionn said as they began taking seats around the dining table. “What do you remember about the investigation, Mam?”

  Siobhan paused with her glass halfway to her lips, frowning. “Not a good deal, I’m afraid. I was stunned, frightened…grieving…at the time.” She took a drink, set her glass down. “They said Ferrina flew into a rage when he discovered Robert had taken the money from wherever they’d intended to hide it in the first place.”

  “Why did he move it?” Deacon asked. “He and Ferrina came up with the plan together, I presume? Why double-cross his partner?”

  “We can only be speculating there,” Fionn explained. “The murder wasn’t premeditated. The questions we could’ve asked of my father, Ferrina refused to answer.”

  “I always thought maybe Robert found some hint of Ferrina wanting to take the money for himself, and moved it instead,” Siobhan said. “Above all, that money was Robert’s security; he wouldn’t let it go easily, especially after all he’d done to get it.”

  After what she’d seen in the file she’d dug up, Lyse agreed.

  “What can you tell me about your husband personally?” she asked Siobhan. “What did he do bes
ides work? What did he enjoy?”

  Siobhan took a bite of her roast, seeming to consider the question for a moment. “Work was his life, mostly. He talked about work and Fionn. Those were his passions.”

  A smile tugged at Fionn’s lips. “And giving you whatever you wanted. That was important to him as well.”

  Sadness settled on Siobhan’s face. “It was.”

  Maybe that was the key Lyse needed. The garda had found no hint of the money Robert had died for, and she had little doubt that bank records and secret accounts would lead her about as far as they had the initial investigators. Maybe something in Robert’s personal life would tell her where to look.

  She fiddled with her fork, thinking. “What did you want back then?”

  Siobhan smiled, glancing at her son. “A house in the country. For Robert to retire. Not that that would ever be happening. The man was obsessed with work. But he knew how much I hated the city life.” She forked up a bite of potato. “That’s partly why Fionn and I chose this place when I needed to hide. Somewhere small and quiet and off the beaten path.”

  “At least it used to be,” Mack put in. “North Quigley has grown quite a lot since then.”

  And growth usually meant the criminal element expanded as well. Maybe that was how Ferrina had finally tracked Siobhan down. Of course, the fact that they’d thought he was dead hadn’t hurt. When you weren’t hiding, finding you became much easier.

  “What about you, Fionn?” Lyse asked. “What were you doing back then?”

  “I went straight from university to the garda,” he said quietly. “I’d been in almost three years when everything…”

  Siobhan patted his hand where it lay, fisted, on the table, then wrapped her fingers around his. “He was so proud the day you graduated from training. Second only to the day you were born, I think.”

  “Of course he was,” Mack said, his voice gruff with emotion. Lyse glanced at him, caught the intensity in his eyes as he stared at mother and son. “He had a family to be proud of.”

  And he threw it all away, for money. Lyse shook her head. Robert had left a legacy that tore his family apart for a decade. Now it was up to her to make them safe again. Staring at Siobhan and Fionn, finally together, she vowed she’d make it happen, no matter what it took.