Page 56 of Retribution
Thomas raises his pint. “I’ve already started without you, I’m afraid. Still clearheaded enough to talk business. Connor,” he calls to his shorter brother, who is talking to Finn. “Quick meeting with the lovely Carys?”
Connor excuses himself from his conversation and wanders toward us. They switch to Irish, which seems rude with me and Carys there. The two exchange a few brief comments about how they’re going to approach their conversation with her. They don’t say anything that raises an alarm in me. Otherwise, I’d be going into this meeting with her come hell or high water.
“You okay?” Lorcan’s voice is quiet in my ear.
I ease down my shoulders, relaxing into his side. “Just wondering what they’re saying.”Not true.
“I wouldn’t give Carys a meeting with people who’d screw her.”
“Literally or figuratively?”
One side of his lips quirks up. “She wants to get into literal bed with any of them, that’s up to her. But”—his fingers squeeze my hip gently—“figuratively speaking, I wouldn’t steer her wrong.”
For some reason, I believe him. I press myself closer to his side, and surprise flickers in his eyes. As Carys leaves the room with Connor and Thomas, Lorcan steers me to the other men.
“We speak a lot of Irish.” In my ear, it sounds like he’s apologizing.
“It’s fine.” I tilt my chin to catch his line of sight. “I can handle it.”
“You know Irish?”
“A little.”
Disbelief and confusion mingle in his eyes. “How?”
“My father’s a bit of an academic. He likes odd languages. Taught me and my brother a few bits and pieces.”Not my brother—he was dead by then.
“Full of surprises.”
Half an hour later, Thomas, Connor, and Carys return, laughing. Part of me hopes she got a deal, but another part of me hopes maybe she didn’t. If I manage to get enough evidence on Lorcan and Finn, she might be implicated by association. Agreeing to let her come here was a selfish mistake. I should have kept her out of this.
“Everything all right?” Finn looks between the three.
“She drives a hard bargain.” Thomas gives Carys an admiring glance. “There’s quite a brain in there.”
Finn’s attention lingers on her before shifting away and landing on me. He maintains his stony facade and takes another sip of his beer before something in the conversation beside him snatches his focus.
Carys approaches me and Lorcan, a martini clutched in her hand. “It’s a good day. It’s a good day.”
“Went well?” The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at her.
“Very. Thank you for setting that up.”
My stomach plummets, and I take a big gulp of my drink. “Glad to hear it.”
Connor’s voice catches my ear as he exclaims, “The O’Malleys?”
Finn’s interest flicks to our group and then back to Connor. Lorcan leaves my side to go to them. Right away, the men switch to Irish which means only Carys is excluded from understanding what they’re discussing.
She starts to tell me about the deal she made with Thomas and Connor. I should be listening, but there’s an undercurrent in the other conversation I’m desperate to catch. It’s one of the times when I wish I could divide my brain in half.
Snippets of the conversation are clear, but I can’t figure out the context. A caterer enters the room and whispers in Lorcan’s ear.
“Gentlemen. Ladies. Dinner is ready.” He gestures to the table.
I sit at the far end of the table. Lorcan is at the head on my right, Carys is across from me, and Connor is next to me on my left. Finn takes the other head of the table at the opposite end. Even at dinner, their inclination is to face off against each other.
Liam picks up the thread of the conversation as the soup arrives to the table. He glances between Lorcan and Finn and then says, in Irish, “I can’t believe you’re getting back in bed with the O’Malleys.”