He motions toward the table. “Shall we finish our dinner?”
“Of course. Thank you for stepping in there.” I fix my gaze on a spot in the vicinity of his nose. “But this is my hotel, and that disturbance was mine to take care of. I could have handled that situation myself.”
I hate the high, breathless pitch of my voice. I sound like some damsel in distress.
And loathe as I am to admit it…I kind of enjoyed having a hero come to my rescue for once.
“I have no doubt you could have.” Kellin’s gaze burns into my face until I have no choice but to meet his eyes. “But you don’t have to do anything alone, Maeve. Not while I’m here.”
Though intended as reassurance, his promise inspires equal measures of hope and fear.
Chapter 6
Kellin
By the time we sit back down, Maeve appears to have shaken off the entire incident at the bar. A shame that she’s not more off-kilter. An unbalanced target is weak and easier to manipulate.
Though sheisDeclan’s daughter and has probably seen and experienced a lot worse than an encounter with a drunk nuisance.
When I remember her pained whimper after that fucker grabbed her, my hands curl into fists. His timing couldn’t have been worse. Everything was flowing perfectly. After two and a half wine glasses, her guard was slipping.
And then that asshole appeared and caused a scene. Though I have no room to complain. I’m the one who offered him a huge sum of money to pull the stunt. I wanted a setup so I could rush in and rescue her in an attempt to gain her trust. But I never told that cocksucker to put his hands on her.
The second he touched her, I saw red.
I was already behind her, ready to intercede as planned. The moment she cried out, the play changed. The next thing I knew, I had the man by his shirt so I could drag him away.
I’ve never experienced anything close to the white-hot rage that boiled beneath my skin.
Sure, I’ve killed people. But I’ve never wanted—needed—to hurt someone as much as I wanted—needed—to hurt him.
Maeve’s expression when she realized what I’d done, that brief flash of relief…
I don’t understand the protectiveness that reared its ugly head in that moment. Don’t have time to think about the implications.
Once I threw the man in the elevator—with a fist to the gut for good measure—I was hoping Maeve and I could continue our evening where we left off.
But of course, she’s walled up again. Even on a normal night, dealing with that scene would rattle anyone, but given how much effort she’s put in to impress me and my “company”…
Maeve is rightly anxious that our evening might be ruined.
By the time we sit back down, Maeve’s guard seems to have lowered again, though not as much as I’d hoped. Not as much as before that bastard grabbed her.
She still doesn’t trust me.
That’s okay. This is only the first night. I have time.
I can still use this incident to my advantage.
I shift in my seat and reach for my glass. Maeve tenses, her eyes flicking over me.
She’s jumpy. Good.
I give her a sympathetic smile.It’s all right. These things happen.“Still thinking about that mess?”
Her gaze drops to the table. For a moment, she curls in on herself. Then she straightens, shoulders back, chin up. “All in a day’s work. I apologize that you had to witness that.”
Deflecting. A familiar game.
