Her gaze sharpens. “Yes, it’s what I want.”
“Eamon tracked down the man who shot your adviser, Broussard.”
“Wily bastard,” Eamon interjects with a scowl. “Complete pain in my arse.”
Catriona jerks. “What? You did? Who was it?”
“You sure you want to get involved with these two, sweetheart? Once you do, it’s a slippery slope. Soon you’ll be the one with blood on your hands.” Mara must have been at the bar for a while now. Her eyes are bright, and her cheeks are stained red. We ignore her.
“A gun for hire. Not connected that my contacts can tell. Someone hired him to take out Broussard and follow you.”
“Did he say who it was?” Catriona asks.
She’s leaning so close to me, I can see down the top of her dress practically to her naval. My cock thickens, both at the sight and her nearness. Sleeping next to her has been a lesson in torture the likes of which leaves me aching and desperate every morning.
“The transaction was online, anonymous.”
“So a dead-end?” she huffs and slumps back into her seat.
I already miss the sight of her sweet tits. Lamenting, I gesture to a server for a beer, needing something to wet my dry throat.
“Potentially. An associate of ours will dig deeper. He’s got a fair hand at computers. If anyone can find a connection, it would be him. Speaking of Broussard, how is he?”
“Glad to be out of the hospital, finally. I’m going to go see him tomorrow, actually. Check on how he’s doing. And yes, before you ask, Ren and Stimpy can follow me.”
I assume that means Bren and Tadhg, and I’m pleased she’s not going to fight me on them. Fuck knows I feel better knowing where she is. If something were to happen and she were to be taken?—
“He’s here,” Eamon interrupts.
“Stick close to Bren and Tadhg until I’m done speaking with him.” I press closer under the guise of pressing a kiss to her temple. “If I find you have to sneak off again, at least take them with you, yeah?”
But my teasing doesn’t wash away the tension in her eyes, and I feel her watching me as I leave her. There’s nothing I can do about it. Cian pauses at the entrance to the ballroom on the highest step, where he can lord over everyone below him. Even though most people here in the States have no idea who heis, they still part to give him a wide berth. Can they sense the insidious darkness inside him?
You wouldn’t know it from the outside, like most monsters, because Cian is a good-looking man in his sixties with a trim beard and all his hair. He takes care of his body and dresses in expensive suits. You’d never guess he could kill a dozen men with his bare hands without losing his appetite for dinner.
He rocks back on his heels when he sees me coming toward him. Two men flank him in matching dark tuxedos, the bulge of weapons protruding from their sides.
“Aiden, there you are. It’s been too long.”
“Cian.”
“Let’s go to your office, shall we.” It wasn’t a question.
I seek out Eamon from across the room, and he gives me a nod. But it does nothing to assuage the dread writhing in my stomach.
Cian, the two men, and I ride the elevator to the top of the casino, where my office has a fishbowl view of the whole building thanks to the walls of windows and its central location. Has it really only been six months since he was here, demanding I reap a pound of flesh from Senator Gallagher? It feels like a century.
The two men take up perches on either side of the door as I lead Cian inside and make him a drink to keep my hands busy.
“I’ve heard you have some news for me,” he says, as he accepts the drink.
“I do.” Does he already know? Sweat pops out on my neck.
He gestures for me to go on.
“Senator Gallagher was able to come up with the money.”
“Really? And how did he manage to do that?” Cian drawls.
