by Fiona Keane
“It’s vintage,” Julian replied, nestling into his seat across from me, his expression impassive while relaxed blue eyes examined me. Relaxed? I don’t think this man knows how to relax.
“Do you fancy it?” Julian inquired, nodding toward me as I stared like a fool. Did I like what? His face? No. Yes. No. Oh my God.
“The wine?”
“Yes.” He fought a grin, a pleased expression of arrogance appearing upon his face. “The wine. There’s a steak with potatoes in the carton for you.” I looked at the piles of containers spread around Julian’s small kitchen table. Liam was already well into his meal. Glancing up at Julian, I noticed he hadn’t even touched his wine.
“You’re not eating?”
His expression softened, if possible, placing a perfectly calm mask along his face. “I’m waiting for you. Ladies first.”
“Can we cut the bullshit?” I blurted, glancing between the brothers. Liam choked, coughing and pounding a fist against his chest while catching his breath and struggling to swallow. It was Julian who caught my eye, the flare of his nostrils and raised eyebrow at my insolence and insubordination speeding the rate of my heart.
“Please,” I added, smiling at him. Two can play at this game, Molloy. Or three of us can play, I guess.
“That’s precious,” Liam cooed, smiling at me after swallowing a sip of freshly poured wine. “Julian, I think your match has been met. I fear I was absolutely wrong in my initial perception of this bird.”
“I’m not a bird or a babby, got it? Enough. You two need to start explaining things to me or I’m going to lock myself in that bathroom and never come out.” Uh. Right, little girl. Commit yourself to being their prisoner. While I slapped myself on the inside, my jaw burned from grinding my teeth so tightly that I saw black flashes behind my eyes. Julian’s movements were slow, lethargically patient while pushing forward his plate and wine glass. His eyes were ablaze against my own.
“I was promised an explanation.” I swallowed, my throat painfully sore, as all moisture evaporated, leaving it a hollow shell of sandpaper. I’m walking on thin ice.
Chapter Twelve
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Liam whispered, lifting his left hand to my right wrist while I clutched the stem of my wineglass. I tried to jerk my hand away, terrified at how warm and soft his skin felt while his long fingers wrapped around my wrist, but Liam’s grasp only tightened.
“I don’t care anymore,” I admitted, watching his hold. It melted my skin, liquefying the tension chronically encompassing my being.
“Remove your hand from her, Liam,” Julian ordered, his authority echoing throughout the kitchen, silencing my heart. “Now. She’s not a child. Far from it, in fact. Very far.”
My gaze wandered across the table to Julian, observing the stare that continued to burn into me. It’s fucking hot in here. I’m sweating. Am I sweating? Shit, I hope I’m not getting my period. I doubt one of these idiots has a tampon around. Waves of flustered emotions poured over my body like rippling swaths of hot steam. Not my period. Definitely the fact two stunningly gorgeous, potentially lethal, men are staring at me. Staring at me and licking their chops, waiting to end me. Me and my mouth. Julian was right.
“You’re right,” Julian sighed, leaning forward with his defined and decorated forearms pressing into the table. “Liam, your hand?”
Liam’s fingers were lightly wrapped around my wrist, the tips tickling the soft skin of my arm as his hand returned to the stem of his wineglass.
Julian’s eyes lifted to mine, adhering our gazes to each other like two locking pieces to some twisted puzzle. “Someone has been working quite intensely at destroying our family lately. Apparently, marring my reputation is their latest game.”
“What does that have to do with me? I didn’t know you until two weeks ago.”
I didn’t miss his eyes snapping to Liam the moment Liam’s fork rattled against his plate, or the way Julian’s jaw tightened before replying.
“But you know of me now.” And I want to know him better. It’s best to keep enemies close. I nodded, agreeing with him for the first time in our bizarre time together. Liam contentedly ate and drank between us, somehow able to avoid conversation while I couldn’t escape thinking of his fingers wrapping around me. Oh, woman.
“When we came in here earlier,” Julian expanded on his thoughts, “I knew the press was outside, but I held onto you anyway.” Anyway?
“Which proves challenging for Noelle,” Liam scoffed, reaching for his wine glass. I felt Liam’s eyes on me, calling for mine to look up at him, taking my attention away from the guilty man across from me.
“No-Noelle?” I watched Liam’s posture stiffen, but Julian simply inhaled and sipped from his wine glass. I thought he was waiting for me. What happened to ladies first?
“Julian’s fiancée.” Liam’s blue eyes returned to mine, sympathetic to my gaping mouth. First of all, what sick woman would be engaged to this deviant? Secondly, um…
“Let me get this straight.” I closed my eyes, willing it to be a dream when they opened. Shit. Nope. Still my nightmare.
“You literally kidnapped me from the sidewalk in the middle of the day.”
“Yes,” Julian agreed. He agreed—as though that was normal, expected behavior from a thirty-two-year-old man of privilege. I must have missed that lesson on privilege in college.
“You don’t let me see where we’re going.” I waited for his nod to continue. “You tie me up in this very chair…”
Liam looked between Julian and me, quick to interrupt. “Tied her up? Jesus, Julian. You’ve lost it! Just let me explain. I’ll do it without hurting the bird.”
“You need to watch it, Liam. I’ll kick you out just as fast as you came into this world.” Julian’s head shook, collecting his fuming temper before returning his imposing stare against me. “Yes, I took you and brought you here. All for good reason.”
“Go on,” I encouraged, spite in the venom leaving my mouth. It took every ounce of strength to control my shivering jaw, the tremble radiating down the length of my shrinking form.
“Liam.” Julian got up from the table, dropping his napkin against the surface before holding his hands against his hips, a terribly infuriating reminder of his authority with a simple gesture. Liam groaned, reluctant to push back his chair, but stood with one final swig from his wine glass.
“I’m going to the loo and then I’ll be back,” he said to both of us, “and I want this settled so I can eat in peace.”
“This is my house,” Julian snapped.
“And I can also tell her what I know,” Liam quipped upon exiting the kitchen, his voice trailing with threat while he retreated into the dark foyer.
Being alone with Julian again was a bizarre and unsettling reassurance, and even though my heart stopped, my breathing was frantic, and I wanted to run, I needed to stay. I was petrified, waiting in fear while he towered over the table and I sat with my most pathetic attempt at an impassive expression. Julian swallowed, the most movement he exhibited since Liam’s exit, and returned to his seat, tossing around some food with his fork, his body tense.
“Malcolm Young planned to murder you that night.” Julian’s voice was smooth, velvety silk flowing into my ears before my brain processed his actual words. “Murder, Aideen.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” I breathed, willing back the looming tears. I felt the tingling burn, the soft reminder that tears would come whether or not I fought them. How did he know this?
“I’ve…heard,” Julian groaned, his voice deepening. “You keep finding yourself in moments of weakness.”
“Or I happen to be exactly what lunatics desire.”
His face lifted toward mine, a mouthful of pasta wrapped around the fork inside of his mouth.
“You’re quite desirable,” Liam hummed from the doorway, agreeing with my comment once he returned.
“It’s about time for you to leave, little brother, wouldn’t you
say?”
Murder. Malcolm. Molloys. I closed my eyes, willing the tears to stop, and found myself spinning into darkness.
***
My eyes remained closed, absorbing what I could from my other senses. My fingers wove together atop my stomach while I was on my back, sinking into something soft, something warm.
“Hi.” His voice crackled above me, softly bringing me back. It was an alarm, a violent reminder of the threat. My legs weren’t tied, my wrists were free, and I was livid.
Squinting, I could make out Julian hovering over me, his bottom resting against the side of me…a mattress? Oh, absolutely not. I tore myself from the comfort of the featherbed, frantically kicking and swinging my arms at anything near me, including Julian Molloy. I moved my legs like scissors, hoping to contact some part of him to subdue him with my anger, to hurt him as he hurt me. Julian’s reflexes were quick, smooth, and precise. His hands bound my ankles, but my fists were free, and I pathetically attempted to pound him senseless. My hands, balled into tight wads of anger, repeatedly swung with no direction and without control, hoping to contact him.
“Stop,” he muttered, somehow maintaining his smooth composure while I panted for breath. I kept swinging, my body slashing around against the mattress while he held my ankles. I was flopping over like a fish held prisoner out of water, hopeless and dying.
“Let…” I could barely speak; I was losing air, “me…go.” I kept swinging, flailing, doing anything to escape. The mattress shifted beneath me, distracting my senses. Julian mounted my legs, leaning his muscular frame over me while restraining my arms. I thought I had a chance, I had almost done it, almost hurt him, but he overpowered me. Had I really tried?
“Are you finished?” Even my hips were paralyzed, unable to move beneath his hold. Fucking wizard. I glared at him, using what energy was left to project my rage. I heaved, my chest rising so high in an attempt to catch air that it touched his shirt, grazing the buttons that hung down. No. I’m not finished. I’m going to find that rope and show you who’s boss, Molloy.
“Get off me!”
Julian’s head shook, eyeing me like I was a pathetic child. “You need to stop. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You already are!” I screamed, coughing as my sealed eyes tore open with a flood of emotions. Tears poured down my cheeks, obscuring the vision of Julian towering above me. The scalding drops of my heart seared my skin. My throat ached, a tickling pain that lingered once I stopped screaming his name. Julian’s grasp revoked, releasing the contact of our skin, but his legs still clung to my hips, locking me beneath the unnerving gratification of his muscular thighs.
“You are hurting me! Get off me! Please!” I sobbed, pleading with him and practically ready to confess sins about which I still had no idea.
Julian’s body abandoned me in one fluid motion, turning his back while I caught my breath. I glanced around the mattress, blinking rapidly to clear the moisture from my eyes. It just won’t stop. I’m a blubbering mess. I pulled my knees to my chest, tightly secured by my arms, as I looked to my left, observing Julian against the window. His right arm was across his chest, his hand stuffed under his left armpit while that hand pressed into his temple. He looked stressed. He was irritated. Maybe I’m winning. I wanted to listen, but I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. My mouth gaped, ready to say something that wouldn’t come, but Julian stormed away. His footsteps were powerful and intimidating, just like everything else about him. I worried he left me alone, something he refused to do all day. Day? Evening? What the hell time of day is it? I studied the window for any sign, rewarded only with darkness from layers of snow covering the glass. My heart sank, cracking into pieces.
“Here.” Julian’s returned weight shifted the mattress at my side, sending my body into a figure so rigid I mirrored one of the icicles dangling from his window. I kept my eyes on my knees, unwilling, frightened, and embarrassed. I felt him sigh, the mattress dip as he came even closer to my right side.
“When we came here earlier and I told you to smile…and I wouldn’t let go of you…it wasn’t entirely to control you. I didn’t want your reputation tarnished in the media. That’s what their job is, and if there were someone trying to ruin me, they’d certainly try to destroy you. I do care about you, Aideen. I mean that,” he whispered, slowly wiping a warm washcloth along my forehead while avoiding my eyes.
“Then why would you do this to me? Why would you hurt me?”
“Have I hurt you? Beyond repair?” Julian’s hand fell, carrying the washcloth away from me while his eyes finally found mine, widening with concerned curiosity beneath his furrowed brow.
I turned my face from his, burying it in the soft, feather pillow beneath my head. “When can I leave?”
“We need to discuss that as well,” he told me, heavily sighing as his palms pulled along his face. “The press has reported that you and I are and have been…”
“Please tell me you’re going to say we are and have been secretly planning a business deal and that’s all, because I swear to God, Mr. Molloy, I might throw up.”
“Am I that revolting to you, Aideen?” I couldn’t believe the maliciously entertained grin spreading against his mouth, parting his perfect lips. Perfect lips.
“What did your brother mean before? He threatened you about telling me what he knew.”
“Nothing,” Julian snapped, “Liam doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m not one to apologize, Aideen, so don’t expect it.” Wow. Quick change of attitude. And to think, I actually stopped crying.
“We’re off to a lovely start then, aren’t we?” I sneered, pulling my body from Julian’s side and lifting my feet over the edge of the mattress so they would rest on the floor. With my hands balancing my body against his mattress, I let out a heavy groan, allowing the day to leave my lungs while it remained intertwined with the strings of my heart. Julian’s laugh was warm, a condescending but lovely sound from behind me.
“I gather most relationships don’t involve so much hostility,” his quipped as he wandered around the room. I didn’t care to watch what he was doing; I merely sat on the edge of a mattress in his home, with no hopes of returning to my life. Damn Elliott.
I had so many questions but didn’t know which Julian could answer or if I even wanted him to know I had those thoughts. I stood, slowly spinning around to observe my surroundings. Everything was white, blindingly bright and crisp in the dark space.
“Is this your bedroom?”
“Yes.” Oh my God. Shit. Gross. Gross? Girlfriend, you need your head examined. Again.
“You brought me in here when I fainted?”
“Yep.” Why? Pervert.
“A couch would’ve been sufficient.”
Julian stepped out from another door across the room. “Liam would never have left if you weren’t in here.” Jealous much? For some obscure, awful reason, I smiled. Smiling. I don’t do that shit. I studied Julian as he crossed the room, having changed from his dress shirt and slacks to a crisp, black shirt and matching suit. There was so much darkness crossing his room that my lungs ached; the demonic delight with his blinding smile left me breathless.
Julian paced back and forth, completing tasks that were routine to him and confusing to me. His back was to me while the tail of his suit coat lifted as he stuffed a small wallet into the pocket of his pants. Okay, he does work out. I can tell. He would definitely win in a fight. It was when Julian approached me again that I glanced up into his deep eyes, his fist lifting my chin to his capturing gaze. I wanted to look away, desperate to think of what to say, but I couldn’t do either. I couldn’t speak, and my eyes wouldn’t flinch.
“How’s your head, Aideen?”
“Fine, actually.” He nodded in approval of my response, releasing his hold of my chin and stepping toward the small table between his bed and the wall, inches from where my head previously rested. The reflective metal captured my gaze, catching my short breath in the confines of aching lungs. Julian’s gun,
his intimidation tool of choice, had been inches from my head the entire time. It was the epitome of his tactics. Maybe he just keeps it there. Yeah, right. As I watched Julian’s suit coat again lift, I pondered a thought. Why would Julian carry a gun? Ever? Why would he have a gun, keep rope, kidnap me, and possess entirely unwarranted authority?
“The Senate, huh?” I looked at Julian, transfixed with how naturally he adhered the silver to his hip.
“In a sense,” he replied, his eyes sparkling while he passed a knowing smile.
Chapter Thirteen
Julian’s knee pressed into the edge of the mattress while he leaned down to study my expression, entirely aware of my astonishing deductive reasoning skills.
“I won’t admit anything.”
“I know.” I swallowed. “I didn’t ask anything.”
“Good girl.” I still hate you and your damn smile. Julian continued preparing himself, adhering the gun to his hip, meticulously placing each stray hair on the gloriously decorated top of his head, and all for what?
“May I go home now?”
“Unfortunately,” he muttered, his back still to me, revealing only the rear of his silhouette, “no.”
“Where are you going?”
Julian spun around, tightening the knot of his tie while looking past his nose at my body resting against the side of his mattress. “We may be together on the outside, but in here, right now, you’re to know nothing.”
“I know enough.” I glanced away, hoping the distraction would help rebuild my confidence, but as I further considered my surroundings, I barely processed a thought. Inhaling a shaking breath, my head lifted toward my intimidating new best friend.
Julian studied me thoughtfully, his right eyebrow lifted in critique of me. “You know nothing. You’re a guest here. Remember that while I’m away.” A guest? I guess that’s better than “the help.” Guests can make themselves at home, right? Ice cream, bubble baths, and on-demand movies, here I come.
