Irish Crown
Page 4
I opened my mouth to say something, although I wasn’t sure what, when he leaned closer, and the heat of his body seeped into me. Goosebumps rose and those damn velvet petals fluttered in my belly.
His voice low and raspy, he said, “And fuck, you were into me.”
For several seconds neither of us said anything. He didn’t touch me, and yet it felt as if his entire body was against mine.
I had been into him. Really into him, and it had been two years since I had felt anything for a man.
I slowly turned and raised my chin, eyes meeting his, and the only thing I could say was, “My friend Charlotte rescued Rocket. He is the sweetest.”
His mouth twitched. “Don’t say that around Kai. He wants that goat on a spit for jumping on the hood of his car.”
I had no idea who Kai was, and right now, I didn’t care. I leaned against the door for support as my knees trembled. I didn’t know exactly how to take everything he had just said.
God, he thought I was sexy. I didn’t care what kind of sexy. Any was good with me because I’d never really seen myself as sexy.
What sat like tar in the pit of my stomach was how he had reacted to me the next morning. “You called me a cab before I was out of bed and still throbbing from you inside me.”
He tensed. “I had shit to do.”
Oh. My. God. Everything he’d just said about me blew up into a million particles, and I was back to knowing this guy was a jerk. “I get that, Deaglan. I had shit to do, too.” Like go home and do a week’s worth of laundry. “But having a cab at your door before a girl barely has her eyes open is not cool.” But the truth was, even if I had the choice to do it all over again, I’d have still gone home with Deaglan. I’d just have left before he called me a cab. “I think we should forget this ever happened and go our separate ways and chalk it up to a fun night.”
“I’m not going to forget sliding inside you and tasting your pussy, Eva.”
Tingles flared between my legs. “God, I really don’t like you.”
“I have scrapes on my back that prove otherwise.”
I glared, but on the inside, it was complete chaos as the memory of him above me, hair falling in front of his eyes, my fingernails digging into his back as he drove into me, assailed every sense that I had.
“I was drunk and didn’t know what I was doing,” I blurted.
“Babe, you had two-and-a-half beers in three hours.” God, he knew how much I drank? “You were far from drunk. And if you were, you wouldn’t have been in my bed.”
“Why not?”
“I may only fuck a woman once, but I’m never with a woman who doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
I knew exactly what I’d been doing when I got into his car. What I didn’t know was what I was doing right now by having this conversation. “Are we finished here?”
“Fuck no.” He pushed off the door. “I’m telling you, the mugging wasn’t random, Eva. It happened outside my place and the guy was experienced. That means it’s my shit and my shit is bad, so you need to get this, when I tell you that if the guy wanted your purse, he wanted to know who you were.”
“But he didn’t get my purse, so he doesn’t know.”
“Did he follow you home?”
I stiffened. “I hailed a cab afterward.”
“Was the cab followed?”
Shit. “I wasn’t exactly thinking that a guy trying to steal my money would hop in a cab and follow me, Deaglan.”
“If it was important enough, he’d have followed you. What I don’t know is if it was, but I plan on finding out.”
I swallowed. “Uh, so what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find out who the fuck he is.”
“How do you expect to do that? I can’t give you anything more than he smelled like whiskey and peppermint and had a tattoo of a spider on his hand.”
“Which hand?”
“Right. On the back.” I’d noticed it when he grabbed my purse.
“I’ll find him,” he repeated.
“Are you going to search the city for a man with a spider tattoo on his hand and smells like peppermint?”
“I’m good at what I do, babe.”
I was uncertain if I wanted the answer, but I asked anyway. “And what exactly do you do?”
“Among other things, I find people.”
I didn’t like that answer. “So, you’re like a detective?” I asked.
He slowly formed a smirk. “Guess you could say I have that skill.”
“What are you going to do when you find him? Hand him over to the police? Because I won’t be able to pick him out of a lineup.”
“There won’t be a lineup,” he said. “I’ll have a chat with him.”
Oh. My eyes widened. Oh.
He didn’t have to spell it out for me what a chat meant.
What did I expect from a commando guy like Deaglan? He lived in a garage. Had security cameras in the alley, and he wasn’t clear about what he did for a living.
“Babe, did he scare you?”
“Yeah.”
“Did he put bruises on you?”
“Yes.”
“Did he pull a knife on you?”
“I didn’t see…”—because I was too busy running for my life—“but, Deaglan, I’m fine and he didn’t get my purse.”
“No one fuckin’ assaults a woman and walks away from it.” His voice was harsh and gritty as he bit out the words. “And if this guy was in my alley because of me, then you need to understand this, Eva.” His voice lowered. “He isn’t a good guy. Far from it. And he sure as hell didn’t attack you because of a few bucks.”
Okay, that scared me a little. Or, maybe a lot.
I’d lived with fear a long time after I escaped Curran and I’d conquered it. Or, at least, I’d packaged it up in a little ball and shoved it into the far crevices of my mind.
I wasn’t that girl anymore and I learned to stand up for myself.
But as he towered over me, I was hit with a hint of fear mixed with desire, and the two emotions didn’t go well together. They clashed, sending my body into a tornado of hot and cold.
Damn it, I do not like him.
And then to make my inner battle more debilitating, he cupped my chin and raised my head, so our eyes locked. It was gentle and yet, there was firmness to his touch, too.
He bent toward me like he was going to kiss me. “That fear in you, Eva. I’m erasing that.”
My breath locked.
A loud vibration erupted from his pocket, and Deaglan’s hand dropped and he pushed away from me.
He took his phone from his back pants pocket, hit a button then placed it to his ear.
“Deck.” He tensed and glanced at me. “Yeah. Okay.” He paused. “On my way.”
Ending the call, he slipped his phone back in his pocket. “I need to take off. What time are you off?”
“Why?”
“I’ll drive you home. Vic will meet us there.”
I had no clue who Vic was or why he’d meet us at my place, but I didn’t ask. “I live five minutes away. A walking five minutes.”
“And you were attacked thirty seconds from my door.”
True, but I knew these streets.
“Eva, whether you like it or not, you’re on my radar until I find who attacked you.” On his radar? “That means we’re doing something about that house you live in. There’s no security system and the doors are fuckin’ cardboard.”
My mouth gaped. “How do you know there’s no security system? Jesus, how do you know where I live? And that the doors are thin? How do you know any of this?” A tremor went through me, and it wasn’t a good tremor.
“You ask too many questions.”
I huffed.
“You do that when I’m fucking you next time, I’ll gag you.”
A small squeak escaped.
“I’ll text you,” he said and strode down the hall.
He didn’t have my cell number and there was n
o way he could get it. I paid to have it unlisted ever since Curran. It was under my mother’s maiden name, Brighton.
“I don’t need you to pick me up.” Then I shouted, “And I’m not having sex with you again.”
His response was a chuckle. A goddamn chuckle.
Mine was mortification when I realized everyone in the corridor stared at me, including Dr. Richard.
He had my cell number.
And he used it. Several times.
He also hadn’t been nice about it.
So, I ignored it several times.
I also received a text from Greta informing me that “the hottie” was at the hospital looking for me. She’d told him I’d left for the day, which I had because I’d left early in order to avoid him. If he discovered my cell number and where I lived, I was pretty sure he’d find out what time my shift ended.
I’d left the hospital through the side door on Shooter Street and texted Ally that I’d meet her at the pub.
“Tell me everything,” Ally said, the second she arrived and slid into our usual booth at O’Sullivan’s, which happened to be an Irish pub.
We’d been coming here ever since we were hired at St. Micks Hospital and I wasn’t about to change things because of some Irish sex god I couldn’t get out of my head.
Two glasses of red wine slid onto the table. “Thanks, Evan.” I smiled up at him.
The bartender taught self-defense Wednesday evenings at the local community center and had been our instructor.
“You girls eating tonight? Dana called in sick, so I can take your order.” The pub had a packed lunch and after-work crowd, but on a Tuesday evening it was quiet.
“No, thanks,” I said, smiling. “I ate at the hospital. Pure liquid diet tonight.” I required mind-numbing in order to forget the Irish stud with sexy bedroom hair and a sculpted tatted body who said I was rare and all kinds of sexy.
“Maybe some munchies? To soak up some of the pure alcohol,” Ally said.
“You got it,” Evan said, and headed back behind the bar.
I raised my glass and sipped, at the same time my phone vibrated in my purse.
I ignored it, like I had for the last hour. The first text from Deaglan was him asking what time I was off. The second was “Where are you?”
The third text was a little more… well, concerning.
You don’t want to ignore me.
I sipped again.
Why couldn’t I get him out of my head, damn it?
I sipped again.
It wasn’t normal the way my belly flipped whenever he was near.
Chug.
God, he didn’t even have to be near. Or in the general vicinity. I just had to think about him and there was a shift in my inner core. But I was blaming some of that on fear since that, too, swirled inside me after he’d said the part about dealing with the “not-so-good guys.” Or was it not-so-nice guys?
I took another long swallow then set my glass on the table. It was half gone, and when I looked at Ally, she was watching me with a bewildered look on her face.
“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Ally asked. “I saw you run out of the hospital like the angry nuns were chasing you.”
The angry nuns were not actually nuns. They’re the hospital board members who are complete pricks to the staff and more concerned about the politics of the hospital than the patients.
“Deaglan was coming to pick me up.”
“For a date?”
I laughed. “Uh… no. He doesn’t date.”
Her brows lifted. “You sure about that? He acted like he was into you.”
“Trust me, he’s not into me.” Anymore. I was pretty sure he had been the other night, but in the morning, not so much, and now… well, I was more like his guilty conscience. I was “on his radar” until he found the guy who attacked me because he thought it had to do with him.
“Your voice rose an octave and your cheeks turned radish red.”
“My cheeks didn’t turn radish red.”
She grinned. “Ah, yeah, babe, they did.”
Shit.
“So, where did you meet this tattooed, combat-boot wearing hottie?”
I slowly turned my glass between my hands. “At the Treasured Children’s Center charity barbecue.” Ally didn’t go because she went to Charlotte’s farm up north with Kendra.
“That guy was at a children’s charity? He looks like he walked out of a Navy SEAL biker magazine.” She leaned forward, palms on the table. “I swear, I came a little when I heard him speak in that Irish accent.”
I rolled my eyes. “There is no such thing as a Navy SEAL biker magazine.”
She shrugged. “But there could be, and if there was, he’d be on the front cover sitting astride a bike.”
“Ten speed or tricycle?”
She laughed. “Very funny. It would be one of those cruising bikes where the guy’s legs are forward, long handlebars, and an abundance of black and chrome that’s perfect for fucking on.”
“He has one of those.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
I nodded. “Inside his place. Next to his couch.”
“Damn, did you do it on his bik—”
“Ally.” I kicked her leg under the table as Evan slid a bowl of peanuts and pretzels on the table.
I cleared my throat and smiled. “Uh, thanks, Evan.”
As soon as he walked away, Ally was back onto Deaglan. “Tell me everything. What’s he like? What does he do for a living? Is he an undercover cop or something? Is that how he knew about the mugging? Are you going to have sex with him again?” She paused a millisecond as she sipped her wine. “You totally should. You haven’t been with anyone in two years. You haven’t wanted sex in two years and I don’t blame you. You needed that time. But maybe a fling with a hottie like him is a good idea. You know, to get back into it.”
I sighed, picking up my glass and leaning back in the booth. And this was why I’d waited to tell Ally about him. It was a volley of questions, many of which I didn’t know the answer to.
“You finished?” I asked, laughing.
I’d been on a few dates since Curran. Three, to be exact, but none of them had that spark. I’d gone on two dates with Drew, the paramedic, last month hoping the spark would evolve. It didn’t.
“I never pictured you with a tattooed, combat-boot wearing guy.”
Curran had been the complete opposite of Deaglan. He didn’t have any tattoos and wore expensive tailored suits.
I’d met him when he walked into the emergency with blood dripping down his face from a gash in his head. He told me he owned a shipping company and there’d been an accident with one of the container’s being lifted onto the ship. I’d only been working at the hospital for a week and was still nervous, but Curran had put me at ease with his polished, easy-going charm. And there’d been sparks, small ones, but enough that when he asked me out for dinner, I’d said yes.
But eventually that polished charm turned tarnished and stained.
Ally grinned. “Does he have a big cock? I bet he has a big cock and knows how to use it.”
I choked on my wine. “Jesus, Ally.” I glanced over at the bar. Evan poured a beer for the older man sitting on a stool at the far end of the bar. If he heard anything, he didn’t make it known he did.
I sipped my wine. “I’m not talking about the size of him or the sex with him.”
But after three more glasses of wine, I told her about the sex. Not the details, just that it had been amazing. And the best sex I’d ever had.
Ally was all smiles, until the part where he ordered me a cab before I was even out of bed.
“What? What a total schmuck move. He could’ve at least waited until you had a pee. Isn’t there a rule about that?” Ally said. She slapped her palm on the table. “I should’ve called security. Better yet, had the angry nuns chase him out of the hospital.”
I laughed. I had a feeling security or the angry nuns wouldn’t have done much excep
t piss him off.
“So, what? He feels guilty he kicked you right into the arms of a low-life, piece of shit and wants a do-over.”
“No. He definitely doesn’t want a do-over, and neither do I.”
“You could use him for sex.” She swigged back the rest of her wine.
“I don’t want a fling.” I’d just had a one-night stand and that didn’t turn out so well.
Ally leaned forward, elbows on the table, wineglass cupped between her hands. “Eva, he obviously cares about you, otherwise he wouldn’t have shown up at the hospital. Not many guys after a one-night stand would do that. Bonus points for the amazing sex that was all about you.”
But not many guys had security cameras everywhere. Or lived in a garage. Although, he said he didn’t live in Toronto.
And Deaglan didn’t think I was randomly mugged. He was adamant it had something to do with him.
I wasn’t sure what to think about that yet.
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore, Ally.” My stomach was in knots from the late lunch tuna on mushy bread. God, that was a lie. My stomach was in knots because of Deaglan.
Ally sat back in her booth. “Did you see the way Nun Helen cocked her hip and flicked her hair in front of Doc Richie Rich in the cafeteria? Do you think they’re fucking?” She wiggled her brows.
And this was my friend changing the subject. She was the best. “Oh, gross. That’s disgusting.” Angry Nun Helen was fifty-five, bone thin, with paper-white skin that looked as if it had never seen sunlight.
We laughed, and the Deaglan conversation was now pushed aside and I was on my way to mind-numbing.
Evan brought us another round of drinks and told us to let him know when we needed a cab and he’d flag one down.
We rarely drank like we did tonight, and it was nice Evan was looking out for us.
Before long we were giggling too much from the drinking too much.
That is, until the bell dinged above the pub door and I noticed Evan’s spine stiffen and his gaze focus on whoever entered the pub. He set the glass he’d been drying on the bar top and flicked the white rag over his left shoulder.