by Zara Keane
He eased the pressure and teased her with his tongue, making her ache with need.
Pleasure surged through her chest, and her breasts tingled with awareness. “Please don’t stop what you’re doing,” she begged. “I’m so close…”
Shane brushed his lips over her inner thighs and reclaimed her clit. He applied more pressure this time, sending the spiral of need ever higher. When she came, she clenched her fists and cried out. A wave of pure bliss engulfed her, followed by another and another.
Ruthie sagged against his chest and felt his heartbeat against her cheek. “Wow,” she said between breaths. “Just…wow.”
He drew her close and kissed her on the mouth—hard, long, intensely. In the background, muffled laughter drifted into the shower room.
“Shit,” Shane said, breaking the embrace. He grabbed their towels from their pegs and threw one at her. Ruthie caught it one-handed. “Get dry while I keep the guys out of the locker room.” He wrapped his towel around his hips, blocking the exquisite view of his bare arse, and strode out of the room.
Ruthie pulled her towel around her body and went into the changing area. Shane’s phone lay on the bench beside his sports bag. Her heart lurched in her chest. In her own bag, she had the equipment necessary to clone a phone. Remote hacking had proved fruitless—the Triskelion Team’s security was rock solid—but she might manage it with a live phone. Pulse pounding, Ruthie took a step toward the bench. Shane’s phone was mere centimeters away. She reached out a hand.
The door swung open and she leaped back.
“Sorry. Did I give you a fright?” Shane appeared before her, clad in clean underpants and T-shirt and carrying Flash in his cage. “I told the guys Flash and I were standing guard while you showered.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “Did they believe you?”
“No,” he said cheerfully. “I’m guessing the grin on my face was a dead giveaway.”
Ruthie pulled on her usual uniform of functional underwear, combat pants, lace-up boots, and T-shirt. During training, she’d hacked phones, bugged premises, and eavesdropped on private conversations. But she hadn’t known any of the people she was spying on, and had the advantage of knowing that everyone she tracked deserved to be behind bars.
Shane was different. Shane was…a mad idea leaped into her mind, danced around, and formed the basis of a plan. Maybe there was another way to get information on Shane and his family. A way that didn’t involve betraying Shane. Her heart rate kicked up a notch. If she fessed up during their dinner date, perhaps she could make him understand why she’d agreed to spy on him and his family. With his help, maybe she could glean enough info to feed to the Jarvis Agency, yet not violate the Delaney family’s privacy. It was a crazy scheme, but it might just work.
Still lost in thought, she twisted her damp hair into a bun and held it in place with a large clip. “I’m ready when you are.”
Shane quickly pulled on his clothes and reached down to pick up Flash’s travel cage. The puppy shifted position but didn’t wake. “We’ll go out the back entrance, aka the fire exit.” Shane slid a card from his pocket and held it aloft. “The door is hooked up to an alarm, but I have a key card to disable it temporarily.”
Ruthie slung her sports bag over her shoulder and followed him through the changing area to the fire exit. He slid the key card into the lock and punched in a code. Seconds later, they were outside in the lane. The morning was shaping up to be a warm one.
Shane leaned against the wall, and his cheeky smile made her heart skip a beat. “Same time tomorrow morning?” he asked.
Ruthie shoved a stray strand of hair behind her ear and shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Guilt pressed down on her shoulders. Tomorrow would offer her a fresh opportunity to access Shane’s phone and perhaps his cousins’ phones as well. She had to get him on side and put an end to the subterfuge. “Sure. As long as the early start is okay for you.”
Shane’s phone beeped. He drew it out of his back pocket, and a frown line appeared between his brows when he glanced at the display. “Shit. Something’s come up. I might need to take a rain check on takeout.”
“Oh, okay. Maybe another time.” Ruthie’s heart sank. So much for her cunning plan. She forced a smile to disguise her disappointment.
Shane blew out his cheeks. “The text is from my sister. Something’s up. I suspect that something is Reuben.”
Ruthie screwed her nose up. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. It’s not like Kaylee to be awake this early. She hasn’t contacted me in months.” A frown line appeared between his brows. “If Reuben’s done something to hurt her, I swear I’ll kick that fucker’s arse. No one screws with my family.”
Ruthie’s drew in a sharp breath at the venom in his voice. The Delaneys were a tight-knit bunch and placed a high value on family loyalty. Who had she been kidding when she’d considered telling Shane she’d been sent to spy on them? He’d be furious. “Does Kaylee want you to go around to her place straight away?” she asked faintly.
“She says nine o’clock, but she’s probably assuming I’m still asleep.” Shane rubbed his neck and appeared distracted. “Listen, before I forget, Siobhan’s birthday party is next weekend. That was what Gen was referring to earlier. Do you want to come?” A pink flush stained his cheeks, lending an adorable vulnerability to his bad guy image.
Ruthie’s stomach lurched. Here was the chance she’d been waiting for to observe the Delaneys en masse, so why was she struggling to respond? Guilt? Desire? A mixture of both? “Which day is the party on?”
“Saturday evening. I can text you the time. Big Mike will also be there.”
Her jaw dropped. “Seriously? When did Dad start hanging out with her?”
Shane shrugged. “A few weeks. Word on the street is that they’re seeing each other, but I don’t know if that’s true.”
Her face stretched into a grin. Dad needed a woman in his life, and he and Siobhan would be a good fit. “Maybe I can try my hand at a spot of matchmaking. Do I need to dress up?”
“I’m afraid so. I’ll be in a suit and tie. Gen and her sister mentioned going shopping for evening dresses, so I guess that’s what the women will be wearing.”
Ruthie shuddered. The last time she’d worn a dress was to her First Holy Communion.
Shane shoved his phone back into his pocket. “I need to get moving. If Kaylee wants me at hers by nine, I need to get some work done first.”
“Go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning if you can’t make it tonight.”
“I’ll let you know either way.”
“And Shane?” She hesitated, her attention riveted by the intensity of his blue eyes. “Thanks for helping me out with the money yesterday.”
He dropped a kiss onto her forehead. “Not a problem. Have a good day, Ruthie.”
Then he disappeared out of sight, leaving her with a racing heart and conflicting emotions. Dammit. There was no use in denying the truth. She was in love with Shane Delaney. Of all the men in the world, she had to fall for the one guy she could never have a future with. How could a connection based on lies flourish into a lasting relationship? The quicker she left Dublin, the better.
One way to ensure her exit from Shane’s life was sooner rather than later was to gather whatever info she could find on the Delaneys. If confiding in him was out of the question, she’d press on and aim to get results fast. And she’d figured out a way to make a start: the shopping trip Shane had mentioned. All she needed to do was arrange to bump into Gen and her sister, Emma Reilly. The Triskelion Team’s security was tight, but could the same be said of Emma Reilly’s? As her firm’s lone private investigator, Emma was unlikely to have the resources to prevent Ruthie finding an easy backdoor into her system.
Ruthie checked her watch. Five-fifteen. It was time to do some early morning sleuthing.
15
Shane hit the accelerator and drove toward his sister’s house. He tugged at his shirt collar. Man, he needed to pull himse
lf together before he arrived. Between the memory of Ruthie in the showers and Kaylee’s text, his mind was all over the place. Ruthie’s sweet taste was still on his lips. She was fucking gorgeous—all toned muscle and feminine curves. On their ill-fated night of passion five years ago, they hadn’t gotten far enough for him to see her fully naked.
The memory of that night weighed on his conscience. Ruthie was right to be pissed that he hadn’t contacted her before he left for Australia. He’d driven by her house countless times and deleted several unsent text messages. Problem was, Ruthie stirred up emotions he’d rather not feel. While he was no player—he left that to Lar and Dan—Shane had hooked up with plenty of women over the years. None of these liaisons had developed beyond the casual booty call stage. That suited Shane just fine. He didn’t do relationships. Wasn’t cut out for them. As soon as a woman showed signs of getting clingy, he ended it, politely but firmly.
And then Ruthie Reynolds burst back into his life, reigniting the feelings he’d convinced himself he’d imagined five years ago. In the two days since he’d bumped into her at the pub, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Perhaps he was crazy, but a big part of him wanted to do right by her, maybe try out the boyfriend-girlfriend thing.
His phone beeped with an incoming email, drawing his attention back to his destination. His sister’s text message had inflamed the sense of unease he’d harbored for months about her situation. Shane slowed to a halt at a stoplight and read the text again while waiting for the traffic lights to change.
Hey, Shane. Sorry I haven’t been in touch for a while, but I need your help. Can you come over to my place today? Maybe nine o’clock? Thanks. Kaylee xx P.S.: If you hear from Reuben, please don’t tell him I contacted you.
Why didn’t she want her husband to know she’d sent Shane a message? And why would she think he’d want to communicate with his arsehole of a brother-in-law unless he had no choice?
He’d never seen eye-to-eye with Reuben Kowalski. After Frank had discovered his only daughter had starred in a couple of porn films to support her drug addiction, he’d lost his temper and thrown Kaylee out of the house. In Shane’s opinion, the more sensible course of action would have been to get her into rehab, but Frank was big on image and even bigger on hypocrisy. In Frank’s world, owning a lap dancing club with a not-so-secret brothel in the basement was perfectly acceptable, whereas having a daughter who’d screwed on camera was not.
Within a few months of being turfed out of her home, Kaylee was pregnant by Reuben Kowalski. Rueben had made damn sure Frank knew he was expected to feel grateful that someone was willing to marry his daughter after her checkered past. Shane’s nostrils flared. What a load of sexist nonsense.
When he pulled up outside his sister’s house, the curtains were drawn and the garden was empty of playing kids, despite the lovely weather. The hairs on the nape of Shane’s neck stood on end. Something was very wrong. He locked the car and jogged up the path to the door.
He rang the bell twice, but no one answered. His pulse kicked up in pace. What now? Kaylee wouldn’t have gone out, not after she’d asked him to come over immediately. The request was out of character—she’d never have contacted him unless she was desperate.
Shane ran to the back of the house and banged on the back door.
No response. Shit.
He peered through the kitchen window and rapped on the glass. “Kaylee,” he called. “Are you in there?”
After a moment, the back door opened a crack. “Shane?” Her voice was tentative and laced with fear.
“Yeah, it’s me. Will you let me in?”
His sister stood back, and Shane stepped inside.
“Holy fuck,” he said, his gaze riveted by the scene before him. “What the hell happened?”
Someone had trashed the kitchen. The table lay on its side, and the remains of two chairs were scattered across the floor. The food processor had been hurled against the wall, leaving a sizeable dent in the plaster.
“If you think this is bad,” Kaylee said in a weary voice, “you should see the state of the living room.”
Shane whirled around and took in his sister’s appearance for the first time since he’d entered the house. “My God,” he breathed. “What did he do to you, Kaylee?”
One of Kaylee’s eyes was swollen shut, and an angry red welt showed on her cheekbone.
“Are those ring marks?” he asked in horror, reaching out to touch her.
She flinched as though he’d strike her, and shuffled into the shadows. “I’ll be fine.”
“Where is he?” he demanded, his fingers curling into fists.
“He’s not due back until tonight. And I don’t intend to be here when he arrives.” Her eyes met his. “Will you help me, Shane? I can’t ask Dad, and Greg and Tom are useless.”
“Of course I’ll help you.” And if helping her included beating Reuben to a pulp, all the better. Shane had never warmed to Kaylee’s husband, even though the guy had made efforts to be friendly to his brothers-in-law. Now all he wanted to do to the man was kill him.
Beneath her bruises, his sister looked pale and drawn. Her face was devoid of the heavy makeup she usually wore, and her long blond hair hung lank around her shoulders. Bruises or not, his sister looked as though self-care hadn’t been high on her list of priorities for some time.
“Where are the kids?” he asked, moving toward the living room.
“They’re upstairs watching a Disney movie.”
Thank goodness for that. As Kaylee had said, the living room was a wreck. The luxury flat-screen TV Rueben had boasted about last Christmas was smashed. A bookcase had been pulled from the wall, and its contents spilled onto the carpet. Picture frames were strewn all over the floor in a mad mess of broken glass, ripped paper, and shards of metal.
Shane turned to his sister, and his hands balled into fists at the sight of her bruised and battered face. “Where else did he hurt you?”
“My ribs and stomach,” she said dully. “He kicked me.”
Shane tasted bile. “My God, Kaylee. How long has this been going on?”
His sister dropped her gaze to the floor. “A while.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ve told you now that it’s relevant. I’m sorry to drag you into it at all, but the whole family will be affected.” She squinted at him through her one good eye. “I want to file for divorce.”
Shane’s stomach clenched. Reuben wasn’t going to like being dumped. “Good for you.”
“I’d like you to change the locks for me.” Kaylee pulled her dressing gown tight around her thin body. “This isn’t our home anymore. Not as far as I’m concerned. But I need to be careful, Shane. Reuben’s an animal. Even Adam can’t control him.”
His fingers dug into his palms. His blood boiled at the thought of that big lummox laying hands on his sister. “Is Adam aware Reuben beats you?”
Kaylee shoved a lank strand of hair out of her face. “I’m not sure. Adam knows things have been tense between Reuben and me, and I doubt it’ll be a surprise when I leave his brother.”
Shane’s lip curled. Little occurred in Adam Kowalski’s business that Adam wasn’t aware of, and that included his younger brother’s dubious shenanigans. People in Kilpatrick referred to the Kowalski brothers, but despite Reuben’s strutting about like a peacock, everyone knew that Adam was the man in charge. “I’ll keep you safe, Kaylee. You and the kids. I can handle Reuben.”
His sister’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know if anyone can. He’s been spoiling for a fight for months.”
And using her as his punching bag to vent his frustration. Shane put a tentative hand on his sister’s arm. “I won’t let him hurt you again.”
“It’s you I’m concerned about now that I’ve dragged you into this mess.”
“I can look after myself.” He paused for a moment, weighing his next words. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but we’ll have to tell Da
d. If anyone can keep you out of Reuben’s way, he can.”
His sister stared at him through tired eyes that had seen too much. “I told Dad about the abuse a couple of weeks ago. He didn’t want to know. He just slammed the door of his shithole club in my face.”
Shane’s spine stiffened. So much for his father’s talk of family loyalty. How could Frank turn his back on his daughter when she was in obvious distress? Everyone knew Reuben Kowalski was a mean son of a prick. “Let me get this straight—our father knew what Reuben was doing to you and refused to help?”
Kaylee blew out a breath and nodded. “He doesn’t want a fight with the Kowalskis, especially now that Jimmy Connolly is dead.”
“What does Connolly’s death have to do with anything?” Shane asked, frowning. “Does he suspect the Kowalskis of being behind the hit?”
“That was the impression I got.”
And yet Frank had told Shane that Lar was behind the killing. His hands balled into fists. The conniving bastard. “Fuck Frank. You can always rely on me, Kaylee.”
“I know. And I appreciate it. I didn’t know who else to call. Since I married Reuben, I rarely see anyone apart from my neighbors, and that’s only when he lets me.”
He uttered the question that had been on his lips since she opened the door. “Has he ever hurt the kids?”
She hesitated a moment too long and then shook her head. “No. He’s never hit them. But he is hard on them, particularly on Robbie.”
Shane could picture it well. Reuben and Kaylee had two sons: Reuben Junior, known as RJ, and Robbie. RJ took after his father. He was a rough-and-tumble boy who was spoiled by his father. Robbie was a different build and more sensitive child than his brother. He reminded Shane of himself at that age. He always made a point of chatting with the kid when he saw him because the child was often overshadowed by his more confident brother.
