Feeling a bead of sweat starting to break out above her top lip, Sienna ran a subtle hand across her mouth and took slow, quiet breaths, doing her best to mask the rising tide.
“Pop, you said you wanted to have a meeting.” Dylan broke the sudden silence.
“Pop, can I join?” Edwin asked, his blue eyes wide, hopeful.
“No, Eddie,” Murtagh answered. “But, Gavin, I do want you in on this.”
Gavin shook his head. “Nah, my lady’s not feeling well. We’re going to head out.”
Sienna looked at Murtagh. His hard stare said the word no was unacceptable.
Taking Gavin’s hand, offering a reassuring squeeze, she smiled. “I’m fine, really.” In truth, she needed to sit before she fell on her face. “I’ll wait over there on the couch.”
“You’re sure?” Gavin asked, his gaze holding hers in an almost plea.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Sienna wasn’t about to come between him and the big guy. They’d have their meeting, and then she and Gavin would get the hell out of there. She’d seen all she needed to see.
She walked away to show all was fine. Before she could sit, Nana Rue’s hand flew out and gripped her wrist. Sienna stared puzzled at the woman as she was tugged to stand directly before her. Weathered hands came down on her hips, adding a light pressure, then both hands moved to her stomach.
“Are you pregnant?”
Sienna gasped. “No! No, I’m not pregnant.” Her tone whipped up slightly.
“Then what else could it be about you that he sees?”
Insulted, she withdrew her arm from the woman’s hold not too gently. “We’re engaged.” The words just flew out.
The woman’s gray eyes stretched wide as saucers, and she pushed back hard against the couch with a hand clutching her bright floral smock over her heart.
Sienna and Gavin’s, heads turned to his father whose stare narrowed, lips thinned. Within that tense moment, the waiter returned and handed Gavin the glass of water. He came forward and gave it to her. Taking small sips, she sat down in the armchair, and tried to ignore the many eyes upon her.
“Wow, Gavin, are you two really engaged?” Caren gaped. “Now that’s what I call a birthday surprise.” She laughed.
The entire room played witness. So much for keeping things quiet. Sienna sent Gavin an apologetic look and met an expression like none she’d ever seen before. To say he looked pissed would be putting it mild. Damn it. She chanced another look at Murtagh. He stared back at her, projecting a shitload of menace. Ugh.
“Do you have any Irish roots in you at all?”
Nana Rue’s question drew her attention. “I don’t believe so.”
“You don’t look just black, so what else are you?”
“She’s black, damn, Nana, stop with the goddamn questions!” Gavin thundered, and Sienna jumped. Shit, the entire room felt the rumble. The old woman’s gray eyes glazed over in shock, chest heaving out quick breaths.
Sienna had never witnessed Gavin at this Richter scale of pissed off. And it was her fault. She should never have insisted he come here. It was clear now why he was so adamant in not wanting to introduce her to his family—the mobster Addams family.
“Let us have that meeting, boys,” Murtagh finally said, his inflectionless tone belied by his hard-drawn features as he wheeled Conal across the room to a set of closed double oak doors. Dylan followed.
“Pop, can I come?” Edwin called again in eagerness to join the men’s meeting, but was ignored.
Gavin leaned in, and Sienna pursed her lips, ready to receive his parting kiss. Instead, he whispered at her ear, “You wanted to come. Hope you’re satisfied.” He reared back. Eyes hard, a tick worked in his clenched jaw. Without another word, he straightened and walked away. She didn’t look away from him until the office door closed behind him.
Her insides tightened. He was off the charts angry . . . at her. She wanted to offer an apology for putting him in this crazy situation and wondered what was being discussed behind those closed doors? Likely, nothing she would want Gavin to get mixed up in. Him being pulled into whatever Murtagh was meeting about was also her fault. Her mind ran through many chilling scenarios of what it could be. Cutting off her active imagination, she turned her head away from the office doors and was met by Abela’s glare. The girl sat with arms folded at her chest and legs tightly crossed. She’d remained quiet throughout all of it. Sienna didn’t need to be a Rhodes scholar to read her—anger, filled with jealousy, and covered in a thick coat of bitch, you’re not welcome here. No doubt, Abela had a thing for Gavin. A massive knot of possessiveness over Gavin swelled in Sienna’s chest.
Frickin’ great, I have an adversary. Jim frickin’ dandy.
Looking around, apparently, she’d become the party’s main attraction. Many pairs of eyes and low whispers were still focused on her. I so don’t need this shit.
She’d been tempted to march over to those double doors and drag Gavin out so they could get the hell out of there. The man that stood at attention outside the door in his fitted black suit, hands clasped in front of him, bright red hair standing straight up on top of his head, and eyes alert, quickly curtailed that idea.
Seated upwind to the open doors, another good whiff of the grilled fish and roasting pig aroma combo filled her nostrils. Ugh. She placed the glass of lemon water on the side table and rose to her feet.
“Can you tell me where the bathroom would be?” The question was directed at Caren. Abela . . . and likely Nana Rue would have her pee on herself.
Caren’s head came up, pulled away from whoever she’d been texting while grinning profusely and bounced up out of her relaxed pose. “I’ll show you.” As they made their way out of the room and down a long hallway, Caren looked at her. “I can’t believe my brother is getting married. Dylan and Angie were married a little over a year ago. Since that time, they’ve been trying to get pregnant.”
“Is she here?”
“She’s out back catching what’s left of the sun. If I’m out there five minutes, I look like someone set me on fire. I try not to stay out very long.”
“Abela isn’t very talkative.” Sienna gave a look over to read Caren more than hear her.
“She’d been looking forward to seeing Gavin all day. You on his arm was a bit of a surprise.”
“I got the impression she and Gavin are pretty tight.”
“You can say that.” Caren’s lips curved at one corner as if holding in a really juicy secret.
They came to the bathroom door. “Thanks. This place is enormous. I would’ve found it eventually, but it may have been too late.”
“It’s not a problem.” Caren turned to leave but pivoted back. “Hey, don’t pay any attention to Nana Rue. She’s old country. The Irish bloodline is important to her.” She hugged Sienna, then stepped back and smiled. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you.” As Caren strolled off, Sienna thought about that as she entered the bathroom.
Welcome to the family. It was some kind of family she was about to marry into, that’s for damn sure, like one she’d never imagined.
Chapter Thirty-four
“Engaged! What the hell were you thinking, son?”
“I was thinking my relationship is none of your business.” Gavin glared back at his father’s objectionable scowl.
“Watch your tone with me, boy. I’m still your father.”
The man’s Irish brogue thickened with each word. This was Murtagh Kavanagh, the boss, the top dog of the Irish Republic Army, northeast territory speaking now, not his father.
To avoid telling him to go to hell, Gavin pushed down the mounting aggression. “What do you want? Why am I in here?” He took note of the pulsing vein in the vexing man’s hard-set square jaw.
“Murtagh, this may be a good thing,” Conal chimed in from his wheelchair parked just inside the door.
“Good thing? I don’t see it. We know nothing about her. No good sense. He gets wooed by a pretty face, br
easts, and ass—”
“You watch your mouth!” Gavin lunged, restraint gone, but was shoved back by Dylan.
“Pop, Sienna’s a lovely woman. You don’t have to worry,” Dylan rushed out.
Gavin shot Dylan a venomous look but let it go as fast as it came. His brother was trying to step in as peacekeeper as he’d often done over the years when Gavin and their father went at each other. “Dylan, not I, nor my lady, need you defending her to him,” he gritted.
“Engaged. Your grandmother was right to ask the woman if she was carrying. What other reason would you have other than plain stupidity? Engaged or not, she will be checked out, you understand,” Murtagh made clear. “Let us hope I’m satisfied with what I find.”
“You’ll stay out of my business.” Gavin’s challenging tone contradicted the rapid punching his heart was putting against his ribs. Remembering the story told to him about the day his father stabbed his uncle in the chest with an ice pick and watched him bleed out as he took his last breath only because he received intel that Uncle Teb had spoken to the Feds, Kavanagh’s definition of checking out could be a life or death call for the person in question.
Gavin also wondered if Dylan experienced the same suffocating tightness in his chest when he’d had to walk away from his first love, Cailin. Could he give Sienna up so easily at his father’s command? Fuck that.
He set a steady stare on the man, pitching his voice low and threatening, “I’m going to marry Sienna no matter what you find out about her or her family, and you’ll stay away from her, got it?”
Murtagh’s brows dipped, but only a fraction. With a glint in his eyes, he rounded his desk and took a seat. “You do have my spirit, that is to be sure. Your mam knew the minute you entered the world that you were a solid one. It’s why she wagered to keep you in the divorce, and why I wouldn’t hear of it. She thought if you went to that boarding school, it would keep you away from me, away from your family.”
Gavin sighed and asked again, “Pop, why am I here?” He wasn’t about to trash his mother with the man. No doubt, there were still bitter feelings that she’d had the good sense to walk away. No one turned their back on Murtagh Kavanagh. No one. But his mother had . . . and it came at a price. Gavin had been the cost—her sacrifice.
Murtagh looked at Conal. “Now how do you see this situation as a good thing?”
Conal angled his chair toward Gavin. “Your father and I have agreed to merge our two families.” Receiving surprised as well as puzzled looks, he went on, “I don’t have much time left on this blessed earth, and I’m leaving behind no sons to replace me.”
“Those package exchanges you and Dylan transported were agreement negotiations between Conal and me,” Murtagh put in.
“There are many who don’t want to see this merger happen. We had to be discreet, keep it close to the vest,” Conal continued.
“What does that have to do with me?” Gavin’s head bounced between the two men.
“We want you to sit over the southeast,” Murtagh answered.
Gavin shot Dylan an accusatory glower. “You knew about this. It was all a setup. That’s why you insisted I come today.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Dylan muttered with a glimpse over at their father.
“There shouldn’t have been a need to hoodwink you, son. You should be here on your own merit. But you stand there scowling.” Murtagh sighed and reclined back in his chair. “Be that as it may, this merger will make me the largest head in the country. The entire eastern seaboard would be under my name. As Conal mentioned, many don’t want to see that happen. I need someone I can trust at my side, someone strong enough to handle situations, should they arise.”
“Once you are married and she births you a son, you can start building a legacy,” Conal added, his expression soaked with pride, as though he’d just handed over the monarchy.
Knots of unease coiled tightly in Gavin’s stomach. He felt his knees giving way beneath him, but fought against it, letting none of his anxiety show. “I don’t want it.” Clear and precise.
“Son, this is an honor Conal is offering you, that I’m offering you,” Murtagh said.
Gavin shook his head. “I don’t accept it.” He turned to Conal. “Thanks, but no thanks.” His attention, as did Dylan’s, flew to the resounding pound of their father’s club-like fist slamming down on solid oak.
“This is how you react to such a gift, like a petulant whelp!”
Gavin did his best to maintain calm. “It’s not for me, Pop. Groom Eddie. He wants to be brought in. Teach him, mentor him.”
Murtagh’s head cocked sharply. “It’s not for you? Who do you think you are? Legally changing your name to Crane, you think that changes the blood that runs through you?” His tone cemented with fury. “Who do you think has kept you protected? It’s my name that has been your protection, not your mam’s.”
“I’ll do it,” Dylan spoke up.
“Dylan?” Resolute, unshakable sternness stared back at Gavin. Dylan was trying to shield him, he understood. “Dyl, you don’t want this, either. Tell him.”
“I said I’ll do it.” Dylan looked between the two leaders. “I can handle it.”
“No offense, my boy, you are the eldest, yes, but your skin’s not thick enough, that I well know. Your brother, Edwin, is too quick-tempered. He has a lot of growing to do before I can set him loose. Gavin, you’ve always been the strong one, lethal when a situation calls for it, yet levelheaded. Take that bloke you went after for harming your lady. The way you sought out your enemy and handled the situation is exactly what I would have done, which is why I’d hoped you would stand beside me and take your place as my successor when the time comes.”
Like hell I would. Those were shoes Gavin had no intention of wearing. There was no way he would drag his future wife into this hell. And going after Dale had been a stupid impulse of anger that he regretted. It was what got him tangled in this shit in the first place. Never again would he be so reckless.
“Give the territory to Cousin Emmett . . . or Cousin Miser. Even he should be able to keep his psychosis in check if he knows what’s at stake.”
Murtagh scowled. “What the hell do you think this is? You think you can just—”
“I’m not dead yet,” Conal cut in and wheeled his chair forward, pivoting it before them. “Gavin, give it some thought. I’m sure you’ll see the importance and significance to your father—your family—of you succeeding me. To that end, there is one more pickup we need you two to make.”
Murtagh slid across the desk the familiar brown envelope. “Conal’s man will be there in an hour.”
Gavin’s eyes flickered between the men. “Now? I can’t do this now. I have to get Sienna home.” He shook his head in weary frustration. “This will have to wait.”
Murtagh crossed his arms at his chest, his brows low. “Need I remind you of our agreement, son?”
“As if you’d let me forget,” Gavin groused.
“The drop is not far from here. You’ll be back before your lady notices you’re gone. We’ll look after her. You needn’t worry,” Murtagh said.
“I can handle this, Gav; you don’t have to come.” Dylan grabbed the envelope.
“He’s going,” Murtagh ordered. “It’s his final assignment, and he will see it through.”
Gavin didn’t want to leave his brother unprotected. He closed his eyes and pinched at the ache between his brows that started to form, sighing deep. Just one more assignment, and then he would be out, set free, the shackle unlocked and removed from his neck forever. Picturing his freedom, he said, “Dyl, I got you.”
“Now, that’s what I like to hear.” Murtagh grinned and tapped an index finger at his temple. “Like I said, levelheaded.” Rearing back in his chair, he stroked his chin, and stared stone-faced at Gavin. “So, you wish to marry that pretty lass?”
“Don’t.” Gavin glared back in stark warning, and the man brought up his hand, palm out.
“I have a proposition for you. I won’t have your fiancée or her family looked into if—”
“Like you did with Cailin,” Gavin ground out with a glance at Dylan.
Murtagh looked at Dylan, his expression bland. “It had to be done. She could have been a plant, a mole filtering information to her uncle.” Not a hint of contrition was conveyed in the irksome man’s green gaze.
Dylan scowled. “You were wrong about Cailin. I meant more to her, we meant more to each other, than that,” he voiced in an even monotone that stumbled only slightly when he’d said her name.
Gavin heard the hurt from the loss, undercut by contempt rumbling just below the surface of his brother’s calm.
Murtagh rose to his feet, large hands splayed atop the desk. “Well, that’s far behind us now. You have Angie. She turned out to be a good fit for you and our family. Though I still wait for her to give me a grandson,” he grumbled and returned his attention to Gavin. “As I was saying, I won’t have your lady checked out, in exchange that you agree to consider Conal’s and my offer. You can use the time to think on it while my good mate still graces this earth,” he said with a look of sincere fondness at Conal.
“That seems fair enough, I say.” Conal nodded.
Gavin’s mind scrambled in a multitude of directions. He could keep his father’s hired claws away from Sienna, protect her, but he’d have to step in as head of the southeast territory to do that. Losing her was not an option, and protecting her was priority one, so where did that leave him in this situation?
“What is discussed here stays here,” Murtagh said, drawing Gavin out of his thoughts. “You’re not to disclose any of this to that new fiancée of yours. Dylan understands not to say anything about the business to Angie, and so shall you with your Sienna.”
“Are we done?” Gavin asked, yet he’d already taken wide strides to the door. Getting a nod, on his way out, he exchanged a look with Dylan that said, fuck your rules.
The great room was swollen with even more guests having a good time. Gavin looked around for Sienna. The chair where he’d left her was now occupied by his grandmother. From as far back as he could remember, crotchetiness had always been her M.O. Cutting his way through the festive throng, he approached her. “Nana Rue, have you seen Sienna?” Her head came up from her Words with Friends app on her iPad. At eighty-six, the woman’s mental faculties were acutely sharp.
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