“Beagly is taking meetings with another arms contractor,” he says, “he’s hinting that the new group has a more favorable offer. I’m taking this to mean they’re offering him more bribe money.”
“The name?” There’s a tornado of rage beginning to spiral in me because suddenly, I am certain what he’s going to say.
“Chun Zhang.”
“I see. Thank you for your time, McCaffrey,” I say. “I trust you will champion my contract when it comes up for review next week?”
“As long as Beagly is not there to vote on it,” he says, voice tight with hatred.
“I know about your daughter’s kidnapping, I am sorry for what your family has been through,” I say carefully. “Beagly attended a human trafficking auction three weeks ago. I’ll have the financial transactions, pictures, and video from the auction sent to you tonight. There’s more. Much more.”
“I’ll start with that,” he says, “I want to wipe him off the face of the earth.”
“This information will quite definitely help him on his way,” I agree. “Let me be clear when I say this contract is based on a very legitimate arm of my organization. There is nothing that will cause blowback on you if you shepherd this contract through the committee.”
“Send me the proof,” he says, a little hoarsely and I suspect he’s holding back tears.
“My wife… was kidnapped by a human trafficker,” I offer suddenly. “Twice. She has been so profoundly stoic, but the scars are there on her heart.”
Why did I blurt that out? I never mix personal matters with business.
“I’m sorry to hear it,” he says, empathy clear in his voice. “Then you know why I have to do this.”
I should have revealed Beagly’s interest in stolen women long ago,I think, rubbing my forehead.
“Yes,” I say. “I do.”
***
I can’t seem to focus on paperwork any longer, so I head upstairs, only to find my stubborn bride sleeping in the guest room. I’d had Eileen transfer all her clothes to the dressing room in the master bedroom, and I knew her toiletries were lined up by the second sink in the bathroom.
Sorcha is sleeping differently tonight, curled up in a ball, clutching a pillow to her chest. There are dried tear tracks on her cheeks and I feel a stab in my gut. Could it be guilt?
I haven’t felt guilt for any of my actions since… I can’t remember. As a child, I’d overheard my mother speaking to my father once when they thought I was in bed. She was concerned that I could be a sociopath, because I never displayed guilt or remorse. He’d reminded her that in a crime family, that was a strength, not a weakness.
She did not seem convinced.
I knew she loved me, and my father did as well. Even though he’d left me a mountain of debt and disgruntled allies, but I pulled my empire back together, stronger and more powerful than my father had dreamed of.
Watching my bride sleep, I wonder if that coal-black lump in my chest has a purpose after all.
Gently scooping her up, I carry her into the master bedroom, tucking her in on her side of the bed. Her hand slides across the sheets, as if she’s searching for something. She’s accustomed to my front against her back, spooning her with my arm draped over her waist. Stripping off my suit, I climb into bed, pulling her closer and burying my face in the fragrant silk of her hair.
Chapter Thirty
In which there is so much sex.
Sorcha…
I wake up the way I did nearly every morning when we were on the island, with Alastair’s head between my legs. His eyes are on me, he’s brought me off so many times doing this, watching every expression, categorizing every moan or whimper I give. I know - though he’ll never admit it - that he prides himself on learning my responses better than I know myself.
And he does, because I’m already arching and moaning against his tongue, and when he leans back and slaps my pussy lightly, I come like I’d been programmed to. The surge of heat circles through my pussy, making my orgasm so intense that my toes point.
“Don’t you fucking dare close your eyes.” A low growl escapes his throat as he slides the head of his cock inside me.
“Aye,” I whisper.
“Good girl,” he rasps. He pauses, hovering above me like a dark angel, watching my face. “Invite me inside you.”
