After a while, I wake as we are pulling up the gates of Declan's estate. I take in the vastness of the property and all of the manpower: guards with huge leashed dogs are standing at intervals along the stone wall surrounding the place. The mansion, or better yet, the castle, is at the end of a long driveway, and there are even more guards with dogs around it. It’s perched at the top of a hill, and when we reach the top, I see a stretch of beach and a vast reach of water behind it. I never asked Callum where Declan lived in Ireland. Had I known we would be next to the ocean, I would have brought more books. We pull through a second set of gates that sit a couple hundred yards from the front door. The closer we get to the house, the stronger the security presence seems to be.
“Should I be concerned with the number of men surrounding the property? Are we in imminent danger here?” I ask Cal, and he chuckles.
“No, quite the opposite, actually. Uncail is known for having one of the least penetrable properties throughout Ireland. He’s always dared his enemies to try and step through his front doors.”
“Has anyonedone it?”
“Only a handful have had the balls to try. It didn’t end too well for them,” he says cryptically, and Orin chuckles in the back seat.
“Well, that’s comforting,” I say, shaking my head as I unbuckle my seatbelt. Saoirse and Ronan are stepping out of their Rover beside us. Ronan looks amused, even satisfied, while Saoirse seems flustered, her cheeks slightly red.
We walk through the front doors, passing men standing like mirrored statues on either side, each one holding a matching firearm. Neither of them looked at us, their gazes hidden behind sunglasses and fixed in the distance.
Inside, the stone walls are a light grey color, extending 30 feet to the ceiling, where dark wood arches vault across the expanse. I’m amazed at the scale of it. There’s an eclectic mix of oil paintings along the walls featuring portraits, landscapes, and abstract shapes. Each table throughout the house features a flower arrangement with vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds. My mouth hangs open as I scan the vast space from the entryway.
“Whoa, who all lives here?” I ask in a whisper.
“Just Uncail and Saoirse, if I’m not mistaken.”
“And Laoise,” Saoirse chimes in as she strolls past us, heading towards what looks to be the living room.
“Laoise is here?” Orin asks, his voice strained. I turn to him, seeing a look of confusion on his face.
“Yeah, she started staying here about a month ago. She’d been traveling for a while and wanted to be in one place. She should be in the kitchenhelping Cara finish up dinner,” Saoirse says casually as she drops down onto the sofa in the middle of the giant living room. I turn back to ask Orin why that name sounds so familiar, but he’s already hurrying away.
“What am I missing here?” I ask Cal, seeing that he and Ronan are exchanging looks.
“I’ll tell you later. It’s kind of complicated,” he tells me, begging me with his eyes to let it go. He checks his watch and looks around the room before his eyes land on mine again.
“Saoirse,” he says, holding my gaze, “how much longer do we have until Uncail gets back?”
“Twenty minutes, give or take,” she responds without looking up from her phone. Ronan walks over to where Saoirse is lounging on the couch and plops down heavily at the other end, hoisting her legs into his lap. I feel a smile tugging at my lips and start to make a comment when I feel Callum grab my hand. He leads me in the direction of one of the largest stone staircases I’ve ever seen.
“Slow down,” I say, giggling. “At least stop taking two steps at a time.”
He looks over his shoulder, his fingers still intertwined with mine as we reach the first turn of the staircase, and he yanks me to him. His lips crash into mine, and his hands slide down to my hips, around to my ass, squeezing firmly as his tongue finds mine.
“Cal!” I squeal, and he grins quickly before scooping me up and wrapping my legs around his waist. His lips brush against my throat, and a moan slips from my lips.
“We don’t have a lot of time, but I’m going to use as much of it as I can devouring you,” he says, sounding as breathless as I feel, our chests rising and falling in sync. He pauses at a door, pressing my back into it as he fumbles with the knob. Once he gets it open, it swings wide, and he uses his foot to close it behind him, his lips never leaving mine.
“Fuck, Cal,” my voice raspy, needy. “I’m still mad at you. This doesn’t change that.”
His lips are moving over my throat, pulling another moan from my chest.
“Talk to me, baby,” he says, his voice rumbling against my skin as he slowly lowers me into the middle of the bed. “Tell me where you want to be touched.”
I reach down between us to slide my pants off, but he takes over, pulling them down in one smooth motion. They catch at my ankles, but neither of us cares.
“Just touch me,” I beg, breathless.
“Mmmmm. Where, baby?”
“Anywhere, just please, Cal,” I inhale sharply when his teeth latch onto my nipples through my shirt. “I need you, now.”
A growl escapes his throat, and I lean up on my elbows and watch him slide his pants down.
Fuck, he’s huge.
