Dublin Nights Series Box Set: On the Edge & On the Line

by Brittney Sahin

  Of course, if they knew about Anna, they’d probably want me to go to the police. They didn’t grasp how dangerous that was.

  “I’m not having this conversation. I have a meeting in ten minutes if you don’t mind.” I shifted upright and reached for some papers on my desk.

  “You’re going to get yourself hurt or worse.” Ethan turned his back to me. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time you were in that ring?”

  I pushed away from the desk, dropping the papers to the floor as my jaw clenched. I grabbed Ethan by the arm, spinning him to face me. My blood was heated, the anger spiraling through me. “Do you think there is one goddamn day I don’t think about it? That I don’t feckin’ remember?” Breathing hard, I followed Ethan’s stare down to where my hand was gripping the material of his sleeve. I hadn’t even realized what I’d done. Bloody hell. I released my grip and raked my hands down my face, ready to claw at my skin.

  “You’re already your old self again, aren’t you? Sure as hell didn’t take long.” My hands fell back to my sides at Sean’s words, hearing the disgust in his voice. Was he right? Was I him again?

  Ethan lowered his head, shaking it a little at me, which made me feel like the scum on the bottom of some damn shoe. They didn’t bother to say anything else. They didn’t fight like I would have. No, they left me alone to sink back into my seat, to press my hands back over my face.

  My mind tackled memories as they scratched their way up, but I shoved them in some dark corner of my mind, suppressing them. I couldn’t think about my past if I was going to step into that ring tomorrow. I had a fight to win.

  A knock at my door had me jerking my head up.

  Like a breath of fresh air she was. Anna peeked through the glass, and I waved her in. She was just what I needed to squash the pain.

  She slowly crossed the room and stood in front of me. Her red skirt hugged her hips, and her tight black turtleneck showed off her narrow waist and full breasts. “Hi.” Her soft voice was like a gentle breeze on my hot skin.

  I smiled at her. I couldn’t help it. It didn’t matter how angry or upset I was, all I had to do was look at her, and I grinned like an idiot.

  Her eyes settled on my hands. “What happened?” she asked.

  I couldn’t think of a lie, so I said, “I was working out at the gym and hit the punching bag a few too many times.”

  Her lips parted as her eyes continued to linger on my hands, her brows pulled together.

  “You okay?” I straightened in my seat, tucking my hands to my lap.

  Her eyes flashed to mine, and she blinked a few times. “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “Did you need something?” I angled my head and another stupid grin crossed my face.

  “Oh. Yes.” Her tongue rolled over her teeth, which was entirely too damn distracting. I could feel a slow stir in my pants as my cock grew hard. Horrible timing. I scooted my chair a little closer to my desk and tapped my fingers, trying to conjure up a slew of images to help ease my erection.

  It only took one—Donovan’s face.

  “So, do you remember how the kids at the center mentioned they’d like to go horseback riding?” She was holding something in her hands. It was her mobile. She tapped at the screen and slid the phone across my desk.

  I reached for it and looked at a website for a horse ranch. “Where is this?”

  “Just an hour-and-twenty-minute train ride west of Dublin. A place called Tullamore.” She raised her hands up in the air, fisted them and brought them near her lips. Her eyes gleamed. “So, the thing is, they’re closing soon for the season, but when I explained what we wanted to do, they made an exception. They can get us in next weekend.”

  “Next weekend?” I swiped through a few of the photos. “That’s soon.” How could I pull that off? I had to train nonstop until November.

  Her shoulders slouched forward. “Oh.” Her hands dropped, but then she extended her arm out, palm up, requesting her phone back. Instead, I closed my grip around the phone and stared at her soft hand. “I can tell the kids next week that it won’t work out. That they’re closing.”

  “Tell me more about it.”

  Her head lifted immediately, and the excitement was back in her eyes. “Well, they have a great house everyone can stay at Saturday night. Even a big campfire thing we can do that night. And on Sunday we can all ride. They have cowboy boots everyone can use. I figure we can get permission slips to the kids on Monday, and hopefully at least a dozen or so can come.” She paused, her eyes greeting mine like an embrace of two damned souls, and all I could feel was a sharp stab of pain in my gut. This thing between us—whatever the hell it was—was going to end badly if I allowed it to start.

  “It’ll be a bit pricey, though,” she said with apologetic eyes.

  Like money mattered to me. I slid her phone across the desk and she caught it.

  I thought about what to do. I couldn’t let her take the kids without me, but could I risk taking time off from training?

  “Okay.” I reached into my wallet and slid my black American Express over to her. “Book it. Get whatever you need for the trip.” I loved seeing her happy and the thought of that great group of kids doing something they may never otherwise get to do, well, it was worth missing a day of training.

  Her eyes widened as she took my card. “Thank you. The kids will be so excited.”

  “How did last night go without me there?”

  “It was incredible. We spent most of the night just chatting. They’re such an awesome group of kids. It’s too bad you couldn’t be there.” She chewed on her lip for a second, her eyes studying my desk, and a brief thought of pinning her hot body to it—taking her right now— flickered through my mind. Christ, what was wrong with me? “Um, can we keep this trip discreet? You know, not let anyone at work—”

  I raised my hands up in the air, and her eyes landed back on my knuckles. She took a small step back in her black heels, which showed off her perfect, golden calf muscles. “I know.” I waved my hand at her. “Now get out of here, I have a meeting.” My voice was a little throatier than I had meant, echoing the desire that was still planted inside me.

  She nodded and turned, and I forced my attention on my computer screen and away from her perfect arse. “Anna?”

  She peeked over her shoulder at me, her beautiful straight nose and full lips on display. “Good luck at your presentation with John this afternoon.” I had almost forgotten about it. I wondered how she was doing in the program, and kind of wanted to ask John.

  “I’m nervous.” Her voice was small. “But thank you.”

  “You’ll do great. No worries.”

  “You think so?” She faced me head on, tucking her hair behind an ear as her high cheekbones deepened red.

  “Yes. And when you kill it, go out and have some fun. Celebrate.”

  She flashed me her straight, white teeth before turning away again.

  I grabbed hold of a file on my desk and flipped it open.

  “Not too much fun, though, Anna,” I said, and regretted it almost before the words were out of my mouth.

  Chapter Eleven

  Anna

  The smell of oats and barley floated to my nose as I walked past a few pubs.

  The lampposts had cute clovers carved in the stone beneath the bulbs and were illuminated now that the sun had fallen from view. A dark canvas of blackish blue hung as the backdrop for stars that twinkled like diamonds, dancing alongside a crescent moon, which was tipped over on its back. Finally—a clear night.

  The city of Dublin was much more intimate than I had anticipated. People were extremely friendly. Well, barring the two crazed guys from Monday. Overall, however, the city had truly grown on me.

  I rounded a corner and stopped, realizing I had found my destination. Different-colored bricks gave the building a historical, medieval feel. At the center of the building was a large archway with an open wrought iron door. Black-painted barrels sat out front, a nod to the Irish d
istillery days.

  I swallowed my nerves and walked under the arch and over to the outdoor patio, where Rick had texted me he was waiting.

  People were clustered around high- and low-top tables, watching sports on the TVs mounted to the walls, toasting pints of beer. I spotted Rick, Kate, and Narisa, plus another one of the interns—Kate’s partner, Craig.

  Rick looked over his shoulder, spotting me. So far, I’d decided Rick was a pretty good guy. And not bad-looking, either. He was a couple of years older than me and had sandy-blond hair, brown eyes, and a slightly crooked nose. And he had adorable dimples when he smiled. He was sort of a geek trapped in the body of a hunk. He wasn’t my type, although perhaps that was because tall, dark, and off-limits was now my type. But it shouldn’t be. Not with what I had gone through with my ex.

  And yet, all I could think about was Adam.

  Last night I had been sitting around my hotel, perusing the Internet in search of a safe and affordable place to rent, and somehow I found myself doing more research on McGregor Enterprises. I still had a nagging feeling about the men who had accosted me outside Leslie’s apartment and their relationship to Adam.

  But everything appeared on the up-and-up when I checked out the company’s history and credentials. Of course, if there was something illegal going on, would it be listed online for all to see?

  But as I searched, I stumbled upon other tidbits. I discovered that the pro-football team Adam’s family owned was pretty much Adam’s baby. And there was a match tomorrow night. Adam was probably heading to Italy for the weekend.

  I tucked away thoughts of Adam, however, as I faced my coworkers.

  “Hey, Rick. Kate. Narisa. Craig.” I tipped my head to them each as they huddled together by the bar. It was actually a nice night tonight—nice enough to be outdoors. But too cool to go without a jacket.

  I looked down at my jeans, boots, and leather jacket, wondering why I hadn’t dressed up more. Kate and Narisa were on a different playing field than me right now in their they-must-be-freezing-their-asses-off skirts and barely there tops. Did they miss the memo about it being the end of September in Ireland?

  Of course, I’d learned right away that landing an Irishman was more important to Kate than landing an Irish job. At least the woman knew what she wanted—I’d give her that.

  “Sláinte. May God wreak havoc on you both next week, so the rest of us fools have a chance at the job,” Craig said, winking a blue eye at me. Both Rick and I laughed at his toast.

  I was still completely elated that Rick and I had won the presentation pitch yesterday. It had been Rick’s idea to celebrate, but he had been tied up last night, so a couple of us had made plans to get together tonight. Rick had recommended this pub, even though Kate had wanted to hit up the Guinness Storehouse. Rick, a native Dubliner, had insisted the Storehouse would be far too touristy. Of course, the sign outside this bar said it was the oldest pub in Ireland, so I had to assume there’d be a couple internationals inside here, as well.

  “Thank you.” I took the glass of dark beer that Rick handed me.

  “You rocked it, mate!” Rick elbowed me and clinked his glass of amber liquor with mine. A few drops spilled on my hand.

  “You too,” I answered. “Everyone did.” I smiled at my new friends, hating that we were in a competition against each other. It made things a little awkward.

  Rick raised his glass again. “But one more toast!” A mischievous smile tugged at his lips as he placed one hand over his heart. “To quote the great, well, somebody—‘Here’s to women’s kisses, and to whiskey, amber clear. Not as sweet as women’s kisses, but a darn sight more sincere.’”

  Kate, Narisa, and I looked at each other at the same time, trying to stifle our laughter. “Say what?” Kate flicked her wrist in the air. “Are the stereotypes real? Are all the Irish either poets or fighters?”

  Despite the crowd of people gathering near the bar, Rick swooped to one knee and took Kate’s hand. “Yes, my lady.” He drew out the words like a lullaby, and we girls couldn’t stop ourselves from laughing.

  I realized that I’d misinterpreted Rick. He was straight edge and all business at work, but outside of the office, he was cool, confident, and quirky.

  “Ah, mate.” Craig shook his head as Rick stood and Kate pulled her hand from his and fanned her face, chuckling. “Why does it have to be one or the other?”

  “‘The reason the Irish are always fighting each other is they have no other worthy opponents.’” Rick sipped his golden-brown whiskey.

  “Oh, please.” Craig tipped his head back and laughed. “Get your own material, man.” He shook his head. “He’s been spouting quotes all week at work, driving me bloody nuts.”

  Really? He hadn’t done it to me. Maybe he was shyer around the opposite sex—well, maybe until alcohol was in his blood.

  “You’re a walking Hallmark card,” Kate joked.

  “Um, I’ve never read a Hallmark card like that,” Narisa pointed out.

  “Then you’ve never gotten a Saint Patrick’s Day card, I take it?” Kate asked, her eyes wandering now, scoping out the crowd.

  “Nope, can’t say I have.” Narisa smiled as Rick bumped his hip into her side, his eyes playful. Oh. So he had a crush on Narisa, which is why he’d been joking with Kate. Misdirection and all.

  “Well, I hope the fighting thing is just a stereotype. I’d much prefer poetry.” A chill licked my spine, and I cringed. I hated fighting—more than hated it. But I didn’t want to think about that right now. I didn’t want to spoil my good mood.

  “Inside or out?” Craig asked. Judging by how both Kate and Narisa were trembling, I figured we’d be going inside where live Irish music blared.

  “In!” Narisa shouted.

  We left the bar and walked through the courtyard. We passed by a tall, wooden post, which had dark brown signs as its branches, each one pointing the way to a different city and providing the distance in kilometers beneath each name. I chuckled at the sign for the North Pole, which was just below the word “bar.” “Bar” was a whopping seven meters away. I hoped no one drank so much that they needed guidance to find their way inside the bar.

  Once inside, my eyes were drawn to the elderly musicians in the back of the pub. It wasn’t what I’d been expecting. They were rocking it out with violins, not guitars, which was pretty cool. The Irish tunes relaxed me as we made our way through the swarm of people in search of a table.

  The interior of the pub was as unique as the exterior. More signposts decorated the gray blocks of stone that made up the walls. Strips of dark wood supported the ceiling.

  But I halted in my tracks and stopped following my group as they made their way to one of the empty tables. My feet planted firm to the ground as my eyes fell upon a guy leaning with his back to the bar. His eyes swept over my body as I studied him. There was no way I could forget his face. He had pinned me to Les’s apartment building.

  The man’s cold eyes gleamed with something sinister, and I stepped back, bumping into Narisa who had been trailing behind me. “Sorry,” I muttered, my eyes breaking the caged hold of the man’s. When I looked back over, he was gone.

  “You okay?” Narisa asked.

  “I, um.” I didn’t know what to do. Had I been seeing things, or was it a coincidence that the thug from the street was at the bar?

  I placed a hand on my abdomen. “I’m suddenly not feeling so well. I think I’m gonna bail.” I handed her my nearly full beer glass and looked over at the others who had taken a seat at the table near the back of the bar. “I’m sorry. Can you tell everyone I need to jet?”

  Narisa’s brown eyes found mine and she nodded. “Okay,” she said as if she wasn’t sure, but she also didn’t know me well enough to push.

  “Thanks. See you Monday.” I didn’t wait for her response, but turned around and went back out the way I came in, scanning the crowd for him.

  I darted under the archway and out to the street, throwing my hand up in th
e air. I looked over my shoulder one last time and froze. The guy was off to the side of the pub, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He was looking straight at me, but he didn’t approach. He didn’t say anything.

  I ripped my gaze from his as the sound of tires breaking near me had me looking to the street.

  A cab. Thank God.

  I flung open the door, tucked myself safely inside, and sputtered out the name of my hotel.

  “How are ya tonight?” the cabbie asked as we pulled away, and I scrambled to find my phone in my purse, not wanting to look out the window.

  “I’m okay. How are you?” I softly asked as I scrolled to Adam’s number.

  “Oh, an American? I love America. I haven’t actually been, but I think the country is just amazing.” He was older. His eyes found mine in the rearview mirror with a softness that gave me a sense of safety. I smiled back at him and relaxed a little, but kept my hand tight around my phone. I stared down at Adam’s name, wondering if I should call.

  Chapter Twelve

  Adam

  A blend of hip-hop and rock music flowed through my earbuds. I leaned against the cement wall and closed my eyes, allowing the grit of the voices and the hard pounding beat to pump me up. Honestly, I didn’t even need to follow my old ritual of music before the fight. I was raring to go already.

  I opened my eyes and raised my fists, throwing a few punches in the air.

  I was in the back of the room away from the audience waiting for my turn in the ring. Mine was the next fight, and I’d heard that the bets had been pouring in since Donovan had announced I’d be fighting. But no one knew whom I was fighting—all Donovan was saying was that I’d be in the ring. He was playing up the mystery, the sick bastard.

  The energy rolled off me in waves as I tilted my head back and pushed the hood from my head. I unzipped my jacket and pulled it off, dropping it to the floor. Standing only in sweats with the cold concrete beneath my bare feet brought back memories. The good and the bad.