Her throat was raw and sore, and when she touched the skin on her neck, she felt the scab that had formed there. The memory of that chunk of glass pressing against her larynx made her stomach heave, and she had to take deep breaths to calm the rising panic.
When the wave of hysteria had passed, she rolled to one side to sit up, and every muscle in her body screamed in protest. She felt like she’d been beaten. “Because you were, Lila,” she mumbled.
Once she was upright, she stood and looked down at her clothes. She’d slept through the night in jeans and a plaid flannel shirt Cian had lent her so she could remove the bloody T-shirt she’d worn. She slowly walked to the adjoining bathroom and saw Cian had been kind enough to place a toothbrush in its wrapper along with some toothpaste on the counter. After brushing her teeth, rinsing her face, and finger combing her hair, she ventured out of the room and followed the smell of coffee that permeated the hallway.
She saw him before he saw her. He was standing in the kitchen with his back to her, a pair of sweats hanging low on his hips, shirtless, with bare feet.
She sucked in a breath as she looked at the tattoos that wrapped around his back and shoulders. Two huge wings, fanned out across his shoulder blades, and between them was a Celtic knot. The wings were in shades of blue and green, subtle, and variegated. Script flowed along each of the three parts of the knot, and as she walked closer, she saw they read, Liam, Finn, and Connor. His brothers. He had his brothers’ names tattooed on his back.
He hadn’t turned around because he was wearing earbuds, and she couldn’t help but wonder what music he liked. She realized that each time she was with him, he became less the cliché of a mob boss in her mind, and more a real person.
As she entered the kitchen, she heard him humming quietly along with whatever he was listening to. He was rinsing something in the kitchen sink, and she noticed bacon already sitting on a platter, and a waffle maker next to it cooking two large waffles.
She knocked lightly on the countertop, but he didn’t hear her, so she reached out and touched him gently on the elbow.
He moved so fast, she didn’t even have time to scream, although she doubted her throat was capable of it. He pinned her to the refrigerator, one hand holding her wrist next to her head, the other arm across her midsection so he immobilized her other arm and her entire torso at the same time. They blinked at each other a couple of times then he said, “Oh shit,” and released her before ripping the earbuds out of his ears.
“I’m sorry,” he said, watching her warily. “Are you okay?”
She took a deep breath and tried to ignore her racing heart. Nodding, she gave him a small smile. “Yeah, it’s all good.” Her voice sounded like she was a pack-a-day smoker. “I should have found a better way of letting you know I was here. I’m sorry.”
“No.” He stepped back, giving her more room that she wasn’t even sure she wanted. “I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just—” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Cian?” she gingerly touched him on the arm again. “It’s really fine. I’m fine.”
He looked at her, and something in his face softened, pulling on her chest, making all her aches and pains seem less somehow.
“You never use my name,” he murmured, his gaze roaming her face. “I like the way it sounds on your lips.”
She swallowed around the raw pressure in her throat, not sure how to answer him. He saved her the trouble.
“How is your throat? Are you in a lot of pain? You should drink something. I sent the guys out to get a bunch of different stuff, so you can choose anything that sounds good.”
He gently pulled her away from the refrigerator door so he could open it to show her an entire shelf full of smoothies, sodas, carbonated waters, noncarbonated waters, iced teas, and juices. She tried to smother the smile that wrapped around her lips. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to make her comfortable.
“Um, how about this one?” She pointed to a cucumber-flavored water. “And maybe some coffee?” She wasn’t sure if the heat would be tolerable on her throat, but damn, she wanted the caffeine.
He got her drinks set up at the kitchen island, and she climbed onto a stool, running her hand across the smooth marble countertop as he continued preparing what looked to be a full breakfast for her.
“Do you always eat all this in the morning?” she asked.
“No, but I don’t always have a guest who was assaulted the night before and needs to get her strength back,” he answered.
She sipped her cucumber water, relishing how cool and soothing it felt on her ragged throat.
“Tell me how you really are,” he commanded as he poured more batter on the waffle maker.
She thought about it for a moment. “I’m sore everywhere, but I feel decent.”
“And in your head?”
She took a deep breath, doing an assessment of her own mental state. It certainly wasn’t fragile enough that she didn’t notice every little movement of his pecs and abs while he moved around the kitchen. Yeah, given how mesmerized she was by his body, she’d have to say she was psychologically fine. Well, it was all relative, but yeah.
“I’m okay,” she told him, setting the water aside and taking a small sip of coffee. “Ouch,” she rasped before drinking more water.
“That heat hurts?”
She nodded.
“Don’t worry, I can fix it for you.” He took her coffee cup off the counter and went to work, pulling things out of the cabinets and the refrigerator. A minute later, he turned back around and presented her with a tall glass of iced coffee swirling with rich cream. She took a tentative sip, and it was subtly sweet, with a hint of cinnamon and chocolate.
“Oh my God, that’s good,” she said in surprise. He grinned at her and removed the last waffles from the iron, adding them to the serving platter along with a bowl full of blackberries.
The waffles and bacon were barely tolerable on her throat, but she was able to get some berries down better, and all her coffee and water.
“You’re too thin to go without eating,” Cian said with concern. “I have some protein shakes. I think you should drink several of those a day until you can eat more than one corner of a waffle and half a slice of bacon.”
She chuckled. “Have you always had this motherly tendency?”
He grinned at her, and it was so stunning, it stole her breath. “I’m the oldest of four boys. My brothers need constant mothering.”
“Well, I promise not to starve to death.” She looked around at the clean, crisp decor of his luxurious apartment. “I should get out of your hair. I’m sure you have a lot to do today. I don’t know how I can ever thank you for what you did last night.” She realized in that moment, she was beholden to him—a mobster. She ought to be concerned about that, but given everything she was dealing with, she couldn’t gather up the energy.
“You don’t need to thank me, Lila. I’m honored you came to me, and I’d rather you not go back to your place for a few days. We need to make sure the Russians Xavier was working with don’t come looking for him and find you in the process.”
Her poor heart raced with a surge of adrenaline. “You said no one would be looking for him.”
He gave her a pitying look. “I said we could delay them by a few months, but if the Russians really are after MacFarlane territory, then they’ll show up eventually.”
“And if I’m the one left in charge of Rogue, they’re going to come straight for me, aren’t they?”
He looked miserable. “Which brings us to something I want to discuss with you this morning.”
He led the way to the big leather sofa that was placed by a bank of windows overlooking the street forty stories below.
Lila sat, folding her feet under her.
Cian stood by the window, looking like a dark angel lit up by the morning sun.
“I don’t know why you’ve made the choices you have—to pursue hacking for a place like Rogue rather
than a legit security company or something. But I know for certain you never signed up to work with people like me.” Self-recrimination soaked through every word.
“While we didn’t realize it at the time, Xavier dragged you and other Rogue staff into a completely different level of danger. You may have had to worry about feds before, but now you have to worry about—” He paused, frowning. “People who will kill you rather than put you in prison.”
She held her breath, waiting to see where he was going with this.
When he continued, his voice was nearly as rough as her damaged one. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. It doesn’t make sense, I’ve only known you for a few weeks, and I deal with people who disappear all the time, but you’re not part of this world, and I don’t want you to be destroyed by it.”
Lila looked down at her hands, tears threatening in the face of his raw honesty. On the surface, it seemed like Cian was what she was used to—like Xavier, like her father. Men who used her for her talents but didn’t really care about her as a human being. But more and more, he was proving to be different, and that scared Lila worse than if he’d been more of the same.
“I can give you a fresh start,” he said, walking over and sitting on the coffee table so he was knee to knee with her, leaning into her space, all his bare skin mere inches from her fingertips. “I know you’re able to get yourself a new identity, but I can give you an offshore bank account, and a private jet out of the country to someplace tropical with no extradition agreements. You can start over. Get a legitimate job, or just invest wisely and hang out on the beach.”
She blinked at him. “What’s the catch?” she asked warily.
He shook his head in confusion. “Catch?”
“Yeah, what do I have to do? Let you launder money through my bank account? Do occasional hacking assignments? Be your mistress? How do I earn this fresh start?”
His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, and he burst out with a surprised chuckle.
“My mistress?” he asked, and Lila felt her face heat with a blush. God, why the hell had she said that? Of course a man like Cian MacFarlane wouldn’t be looking to her as a mistress. Idiot, Lila, pure idiot.
She gathered her dignity as best she could with him preventing her from stomping off across the room.
“Sorry, I realize that suggestion is ridiculous. I just meant how am I going to have to debase myself to get this amazing fresh start you’re offering?”
Cian seemed to find her anger entertaining, and rather than backing up like she wanted, he leaned closer, his elbows on his knees. She refused to be cowed, so she glowered at him. His gaze turned thoughtful.
“First of all, Lila from Rogue,” he said, his voice low and velvety. “If I had mistresses, you’d be my first choice for sure.”
Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest.
“But secondly, I don’t exploit women. I was raised by a good woman, and while my father has a lot of faults, treating my mother poorly wasn’t one of them. MacFarlane men don’t hit women, they don’t disrespect them, and they don’t exploit them.”
He reached out and ran one finger softly down the side of her face, stroking her cheek, sending tiny sparks of electricity straight to her chest. Then he took a deep breath as his eyes drifted closed for a moment. When he released it, he sat back, and it was all Lila could do not to follow him with her entire body as if they were connected by a string, chest to chest, heart to heart.
“The fresh start is yours to take, no conditions. You’ll never have to speak to or deal with anyone from my family or organization ever again.”
Lila’s head spun with the possibilities, even as something inside her sank in disappointment. But her practical side quickly took over, and she assessed the advantages, the disadvantages, the dangers and risks, along with the fact Cian MacFarlane had said she’d be his first choice for a mistress.
Cian watched her and waited, always patient, always observant.
“Can I think about it?” she asked, not able to clear her mind enough to make a decision right then.
“Of course. But in the meantime, you stay here. Deal?”
She nodded, not sure if being in such close proximity to him for an extended period of time was going to help her decision-making abilities.
“Now,” he said, smiling. “I bet you’d like to get fresh clothes and some of your other things.”
She agreed, grateful for the reprieve from life-altering decisions and the tumbling that was going on in her tummy.
“Good. Let me get dressed, and we’ll take you to your house so you can pack.”
As he walked away to his bedroom, Lila decided shock had finally set in, because she was actually considering saying no to his offer. It was absolute insanity, which would make sense, because Lila had become progressively crazier since meeting Cian. And now? She wasn’t sure if she was ready to leave him. Not even for a beach and a fresh start.
Chapter 23
Sergei looked around the former industrial space. It was wide open, with high ceilings, brick walls, and concrete floors.
“We can have interior walls built where we want?” he asked the Realtor. She was one of those typical American women—tight business suit, high heels, hair that didn’t move, and twenty extra pounds packed beneath the Spanx he knew she wore.
She fluttered thick eyelashes at him, and Sergei briefly considered fucking her against the brick walls, but then she opened that mouth with the overpainted lips and that thought, along with other things, shriveled.
“Absolutely! The property owner wants the tenant to have the freedom to transform the space into whatever you desire.”
Sergei grunted at her and slowly walked around the room again. As he counted off paces to get an idea of the size of things, he mentally calculated how many he’d need to store here. Maybe ten to fifteen at a time? If he held auctions once a month, he could clear inventory to almost zero every thirty days and then restock.
“And the owner is out of state?” he asked.
“Yes, but I manage the property, and I’m here for anything you need at any time. We’re very conscientious about our customer service. If you need maintenance or a repair done, we can have someone out within the hour.”
Sergei snorted softly. If that were true, he’d have never chosen this particular property management company. But regardless, he wouldn’t be asking for any maintenance, and he doubted Chloe here would be stopping by otherwise. She was notoriously lazy, and the property owner was an eighty-year-old man who’d retired to Boca Raton years ago.
“I’ll take it,” he said, giving her a smile guaranteed to send her skipping back to her office in the wilds of Naperville.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” she chirped. “Let’s go to the car. I have all the paperwork. If you have a check, I can process this today, and you can start moving in tomorrow.”
He had better than a check. He had cash. Lots of cash.
“I can pay in cash,” he said, looking at her with a challenge. “Will that be a problem?”
Chloe smiled even bigger. “No, that will work just fine.”
Yes, thought Sergei, this was going to work just fine. And it was going to work right in the MacFarlanes’ backyard. Filthy Irish pigs would never know what hit them until it was too late.
Connor stood on the balcony and looked out on downtown San Diego. The sun was setting over the water a few blocks away, and the sky was an amazing shade of orange mixed with pinks.
He heard the door slide open behind him and restrained his first instinct to put his hand on his gun. There was no gun strapped to his torso now, though he still had a few stashed around the place, but he was working to develop new habits, and Jess was helping him.
“Hi,” she said as she leaned on the railing next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
He kissed the top of her head. “Not as beautiful as you,” he said.
“Kiss-up,” she murmured.
“I just heard from that temp bookkeeping service,” she said. “They hired me.”
He turned and pulled her into a hug. “That’s great, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
“Right?” She smiled up at him. “I’ve never had a job anywhere but with my dad, but those fake reference letters your brother gave us worked.”
He gazed at her, his brow furrowing. “No, those are required, but if you didn’t have the knowledge and hadn’t aced the interview, they would have never hired you.”
She smiled back. “It’ll be fun to see what it’s like to work in real offices, and I love that I’ll get to move around every couple of weeks. I’ll meet so many new people.”
Connor’s heart nearly burst with the joy in her voice.
“And then at night?” he murmured, burying his nose in her hair as she pressed against him from chest to toes.
“At night, I’ll bring all my new friends to your pub while you’re managing, and after that, we’ll come home, and you’ll sex me up until I have to get up for work again.”
“Sounds tiring,” he chuckled.
“We’re only young once,” she answered, glowing.
“You’ll always be young in my eyes.”
She laughed and smacked him on the chest. “Now, I’m going to go look online to see what people are wearing in offices. I’m going to need work clothes. Will you come shop with me in the morning?”
“Of course,” he answered. “Do your research, and then I’ll take you out to dinner to celebrate.”
She bounced back inside, shutting the door behind her. Connor watched as she went into the kitchen and pulled out the small laptop they’d invested in. Cian’s new life package had included a special email account that Lila had secured for them. It was anonymous and untraceable, sending any messages through a random sequence of servers before it landed, making it impossible for anyone to track the location of the source of the messages.
Breath of Deceit (Dublin Devils Book 1) Page 21
