Getting out of here and pretending none of this ever happened to me is the smartest thing I can do. This man blew up an island.
An island.
Our little staring match is becoming acutely uncomfortable, and I leap off the couch. “I’ll just start clearing things up-”
“None of that!” Sloan scolds. “You’re a guest. Masie and Catriona will clean up while I make a phone call, and then we’ll be out of your hair. Kai, we ordered you Joyless High-Protein Dinner Number Four from that organic place. It’s in the fridge.”
I hastily volunteer to go heat up Kai’s meal. It seems like a better option than sitting here, watching them look at me like they know something I don’t. Of course, they do. They’re from a wildly powerful and rich Mafia family that still manages to do some good and saves stupid girls from getting raped and trafficked. Or were they just angry because these weapons were cutting into their territory?
My head hurts, and when the microwave makes its cheerful‘ding!’I flinch.
“I can heat my own food, lass.”
Kai is standing right behind me, close enough to feel the body heat radiating from his skin to mine.
“Putting the carton in the microwave and pushing a button isn’t particularly taxing,” I say, weaseling sideways to get away from him. “Given that you saved my life, it seems like the least I could do.”
The girls are shouting their tipsy goodbyes from the front hall, and then suddenly, the door slams and the two of us are alone.
Kai grabs a fork and digs into the carton, humming in pleasure. “I feckin’ love this low-fat stir-fry. No one makes it like Sprouts & Seeds.”
This man chased me through the woods in a wolf mask. He got stabbed in the leg while murdering a man right in front of me. Yet all I can think about is how sexy his throat is when he swallows and that smile of genuine pleasure as he plows through his dinner. It’s surreal and intimate and…
“I’m going to go up and take a shower, if that’s all right,” I say hastily. “Catriona showed me where the guest room is.”
He takes a moment, chewing slowly as he makes a slow visual circuit from my ratted hair down to the chipped polish on my toes. “That’s a grand idea,” he finally agrees. A flicker of mischief goes through his eyes. “You’re a bit ripe, no offense.” His eyes are so vivid, the color of the rolling green hills surrounding Glasgow. He hasn’t had a haircut in a while, and the ends are curling against his neck.
Aaaand, I’m staring.
“No offense taken.” I try to sound haughty, but it’s coming out as a croak, and his slow grin is making it clear he’s caught me perving on him. “I’ll just go to bed after I de-stinkify.”
Kai laughs heartily, and the sound is so lovely I wish I could think of something clever to say to make him laugh like that again. Instead, I mumble, “Goodnight,” and lope up the stairs like he’s chasing me.
“Goodnight, lass.”
Turning, I see him leaning against the banister at the foot of the stairs, still holding his carton of joyless high protein takeout.
Chapter Thirteen
In which no dilemma is solved at 2 a.m.
Luna…
Why am I still awake?
It’s not the bed’s fault. The iron four-poster bed draped in blue curtains with an excessive amount of white and blue pillows is the most decadent thing I’ve ever seen. When I sink into the deep goose-down comforter with a little whimper of joy, I swear I hear an angel get its wings.
The nightmare of Morren Island is still in the back of my mind tucked in a box labeled, “You’re going to have to deal with this shit eventually or it’s going to really mess you up.” I try to keep that box closed at all costs.
Tonight, I’m not thinking about the cruel, laughing face of those rich fucks, enjoying the terror and pain they caused others. Nor the fireball that incineratedan entire island.
I’m thinking about Kai. Wally. Demon Mask. He’s so many things, all blurring together into a larger-than-life force of nature.
Why am I here? The entirety of the MacTavish Clan must surely know that I will never breathe a word of what they did. The first reason is obvious: Kai saved me from being raped and trafficked. The second reason? Well, the second breaks downinto a multitude of addendums, like, who the hell would believe me? Worse, what if the police thought I had something to do with it?
“Why were you there on the island, Miss Jones?”
“Did you try to do anything as these people were shot and poisoned?”
