Page 118 of Retribution
Lorcan’s expression turns heavy, and he shakes his head. “It’s the first time I’ve given a shit if someone gets caught.”
Rising, I cross the room and put my arms around his neck. “I doubt that’s true.”
He doesn’t meet my gaze and instead brushes a kiss across my forehead. “I think I should go alone.”
“You’re not going alone. You need someone to watch your back.”
“It’s not my back I’ll be worrying about.”
“I can—”
“Yes,” Lorcan says, pulling away. “I’m well aware that you can take care of yourself.” He raises one eyebrow and rests his hands on his hips. “This is—it’s new to me. I’ve never been with a woman who understood the business and who was…”
“Amazingly competent?” I arch my eyebrows, a teasing smile playing at the corners of my lips.
Unease and humor war in the depths of his eyes. “Experienced.”
“What sorts of women do you normally sleep with?”
Lorcan purses his lips and looks at me under his lashes. “Did you really just ask me that?”
“Why not?” I move to the kitchenette and pour myself a glass of whiskey. “I suppose I should know where your parts have been before.”
“Does it mean I get to ask you that question?”
I sip the drink and angle the glass at him. “Answer mine first, and we’ll see.”
He chuckles and comes forward, plucking the glass from me and swallowing a taste of whiskey before returning it. “I like uncomplicated women. I told you that.”
“And yet?” My thumb caresses his cheek.
“And yet I seem to have fallen in love with an amazingly competent woman who is incredibly complicated.”
My stomach dips. “All I heard was amazing and incredible.”
“Ay.” A smile touches his lips, and when one side of his mouth quirks up, his dimple peeks out. “You’remy a chroi.”
His heart.My own heart squeezes. My father called me that. Words bubble up into my throat, but I can’t say them. They’re there. Until he knows everything, I can’t say it. I need to be sure. There’s a chance he aided in the murdering of my family. Can I get past that? Would I want to? Even if I did, can his love for me overshadow his love for Finn once he knows the truth?
“I like the idea of being your heart.” I glide my hand to his chest.
His eyes light. “You know that one?”
My throat is tight, and I clear it. “My dad used to call me that.”
“Used to?”
My mistake causes a frisson of fear to shoot through me. It’s a slip but not dire. I can salvage it. Careless mistakes will get me killed. I’m losing sight of too many things.
“We’ve drifted apart.” Glancing at the clock above Lorcan’s shoulder, I say, “We should go. Don’t want to be late.”
“You’re sure about that knife.” His hand rubs my thigh and the almost imperceptible groove left by it.
“I’m sure I don’t want to be defenseless if they’re as ruthless as you say.” If anything in my files at the start of this was true, the Russians aren’t going to be impressed with our questions.
It’s a sprawling estate on the opposite side of Boston. The house sits low and squat surrounded by huge iron gates. While Finn and Lorcan’s place is also gated, it doesn’t have the grandeur and the sense of luxury spewing out of every nook and cranny. The Russians don’t mind flaunting their fortune. I half expect to see the onion domes protruding from the roof, but they haven’t gone to that extreme. The giant balls on the stone pillars around the gates are the closest they come to that level of decadence.
“Impressive,” I mutter.