Page 54 of Shattered Veil
“About?”
“The rooms you secured for us.” He pulls at his tie.
“Is there a problem?” Not that I can do much about it.
“There was only one bed.” His voice gets low.
“I know,” I say, nodding. “They saved ones with two queen beds for families and gave me ones with a king and sofa.”
“There wasn’t a sofa, and I’m pretty sure that bed was also a queen-size.” He clears his throat. “I’ll post outside your room and nap against the wall if I get tired.”
I exhale, knowing I would never make a guard sleep on the floor. Ella nailed it on the head earlier. What’s the point if they’re exhausted and stiff?
Stiff.
I hide a chuckle. Two months working for Lachlan and he’s got Trace and his brother, Rhys, trained like attack dogs who will turn away comfort.
Trace clears his throat and looks over at Ella, who’s plopped down into a wing chair and sipping from a can of soda.
“It’s none of my business, but you and Ella...” He must have seen something in my eyes because he doesn’t finish that sentence.
“You’re right. It’s none of your business.” I suck in a breath and harness the right way to feel about Trace’s intrusive and assuming words.
Griffin, Connor, and Shane work for my brothers and me. We’ve been aligned withthoseQuinlans for decades. They are as close to being our brothers as any other souls could be. Kieran was supposed to marry their sister, and we would have been bonded by that vow.
Norah Quinlan dying suddenly broke that alliance in name only, but spiritually, the Quinlans were always a top tributary family over any other Irish clan in Astoria.
Breaking the tension, I say, “Trace, I’ll stay in Ella’s room. It’s been a long day. We all need our sleep.”
Not that I plan to get any sleep if she’s next to me.
“I’ll tell Ella about the arrangements.” I give a squeeze to Trace’s arm. When I stand to get the feeling back in my legs and Trace doesn’t follow, I ask, “Are you coming?”
“I heard a man on the food line mention he’s a Marine who lost both legs.” Trace lifts his pant leg, showing me scarred flesh. “I was lucky. I’d like to buy the man a drink and see if he needs to talk. Opening up helps.”
It makes me wonder what the hell Trace went through with the Irish Defences that he would seek out an American stranger to talk to.
“You’re officially off duty, Trace. Shane hacked into all the cameras. We’re safe.” I shuffle toward the television area, hiding a smirk.
Trace wants to spend his night hanging out with a fellow wounded warrior, while I’ll be in the room next door, balls-deep in a woman I’ve been dying for since I left her in that hotel room in Los Angeles.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Balor
Istroll toward Ella who’s watching a wall-mounted television on the opposite side of the lobby. Away from all the food. Away from me.
I can’t stop thinking about her. Or whacking off in my shower to the memory of her mouth every damn morning. Because every morning, she wakes me up as part of her job and then leaves the bedroom.
It’s time to be honest with myself. She’s the real reason we’re still in this town. My brother’s helicopter pilot has enough skills and could have made the trip. The idea of being snowed in like this, pushing the world and my responsibilities aside for another night alone with Ella pulses through me, my cock aching for her.
Every time I set eyes on Ella, my axis shifts. There’s something there. Something hidden, drawing us together, and I don’t know what it is.
But I’m her boss and pursuing this obsession with her might turn into a nightmare HR lawsuit. For all the precautions my brothers take to stay off law enforcement’s radar, to shatter the carefully constructed veil we live behind for sex is something I’ll never live down.
But, Christ, look at her. I’m shockingly aware, with the snow falling, trapping us in this moment, my busy world can stop. Maybe I can get out of my own way and take what I want if Ella is willing to submit to me for one more night.
A dark chuckle tickles my chest.One night. Yeah, right.