The man with the scar came to a stop beside Conall and gently helped him to stand, not that he seemed to need the hand up, it was more as a courtesy—a lover’s touch. I couldn’t help it when my body rushed with heat. I often didn’t pay attention to people around me being sweet with one another, not because it didn’t happen, but I always felt like it was out of reach for me. But now I could have all the sex and touching I wanted, and it seemed I was no longer able to ignore it when other people did even the slightest bit of flirting. I should apologize for staring but didn’t, and I didn’t look away, either.
“You’ve caused a fair amount of trouble.” The tall blond frowned down at me. “I do see what the fuss is about. How did you manage to get some of my best men wrapped around your finger?”
The stranger held out a hand to me, and since he didn’t seem to be trying to kill me, and my butt and lower back throbbed in an unpleasant way, I accepted. He didn’t have any trouble as he heaved me to my feet. It took me a second to stay standing and I had to lean a shoulder against the wall.
“Thank you. I... I don’t know that I have anyone wrapped around anything.”
The man shook his head. “I do. Trust me, it’s true.”
“Who are you?”
The man smirked, and Conall at his side stared up at him in an admiring way. “My name is Killough.”
Excitement leaped alive in my chest, and the burst of adrenaline that flashed through me was like licking a light socket. My brain ran a thousand different directions all at once. “As in Sloan Killough? Mr. Killough.” I grabbed his hand and shook it while his dark eyebrows climbed higher. I smiled at him, then found myself frowning. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Oh, butyoucan touch him?” Conall asked snidely.
“Pet,” Mr. Killough said sharply.
Conall cuddled against his side the way I liked to do with Rowen and Cillian and it had me smiling.
Then a thought blindsided me. “You’reMr. Killough’s pet? You’re a person, not a Tibetan mastiff! Well, those are just the most expensive dogs I researched, but you’renotone.” I couldn’t help how accusing I sounded, but I’d been so certain whatever pet Mr. Killough had would be a pricey pup.
Conall gaped before snapping his mouth shut. “Um, I am not a dog. Right, Boss?” He glanced at Mr. Killough, who only shrugged. “No, I’m all man here.” His lips quirked.
“I have so many questions,” I said, turning my attention back to Mr. Killough. “Was it really you who blew up that meat-packing warehouse? We haven’t seen bombs like that in New York for years. At least, nothing I knew about anyway.”
His face went cold and he extracted his hand from mine. “You’re questioning me about my business?” he asked quietly.
I held my breath, shook my head, and then let out a sigh that puffed up my cheeks. “Mira told me that you went in there with four guns and two knives and bleweveryoneaway in about two minutesflatbecause you’re a world-renowned marksman. And then”—my hands had traveled up to bracket my words the way they sometimes did when I lectured, but I didn’t care—“when everyone was deadexceptDavid Nunzio, you had a shoot-out. And Mira said that you got shot in the left arm!”
Everyone, even some men I hadn’t noticed coming into the hallway behind Mr. Killough, looked down at his arm. He shook it around.
“Andwith the last bullet in your gun, you shot him, but you missed! But it happened in the meat-packing cooler, and the ricochet from the metal cooler caught David.” I stretched and tried to touch my own back where I’d been told the wound happened, but my arm didn’t quite bend that way, and I had to lean forward a little and twist to show them where the bullet had hit. “It went through his back and punctured his heart, so when he looked down”—I glanced at my front, and Conall did the same—“he didn’t even know what had killed him!” I straightened with a flourish. “Because there was no wound for him to see. He fell to his knees and died there in the cold.”
My hands crept up and cupped my cheeks and I tried to stop myself, but I was too excited. “Is it true? Did it really happen that way?”
Conall began to snicker, then let out a sound that was close to a giggle. “That,” he said around a burst of laughter. “That sounds just like him. That’s you, Sloan. No mistake.” He turned and held on tight to Mr. Killough, his body shaking. I thought at first he was scared because he hadn’t heard this story before, and obviously Mr. Killough was entangled with him in some way, but I caught a snort that sounded a lot like more laughter.
“Pet! You are on your way to a punishment tonight,” Mr. Killough said softly, but Conall didn’t stop laughing. I studied him and noted his pretty red collar. My belly tingled and my cheeks flushed warmer. Wasn’t that something people usually used for a bedroom game? I’d read a few books. Okay, they were gay romances that were just this side of porn, but they counted.
“You’re mean to him? You’re supposed to be nice to pets because they trust you to take care of them.” I couldn’t help it. I’d never liked true bullies. I found myself crossing my arms and glaring even though it probably wasn’t wise.
Conall gasped in another deep breath of air, but his smile was brilliant. “Oh, he’s a monster all right. A big one. S—” He broke down in another fit of laughter. “A huge, sexy monster.”
Mr. Killough grabbed Conall’s ass roughly and left his hand there, but he only sighed before he turned to me. “One or two details may not have been as sharp as you’d hoped. Who is this Mira who told you the story?” His jaw went hard, and I couldn’t help but think maybe Mr. Killough did look like a man who could be dangerous.
“Um....”
He sighed and gave me a hand wave that seemed to sayhurry up.
“I helped her get her cat out from underneath a car. She lives in the neighborhood where the explosion happened. She was out that night walking her cat, or trying to, on a pink harness. It was really cute. He ran away that night, too, scared by the bombs. His name is Nemo. He’s an orange tabby. I crawled under the car because she has a bad back, and while I did I told her I teach organized-crime classes and she told me that story. She likes raspberry cookies and bought me two and a coffee as a thanks. And did you? Did you do that? Just like she told me? Oh, you’re a guest. Would you like coffee? Or tea? Cillian seems to like tea a lot. We have a few different kinds. I don’t, but you know, when in Rome... drink tea.”
Mr. Killough blinked at me, then glanced at Conall. “Pet, why don’t you go with Dr. Mifflin—”
“You can call me Vail,” I said, holding my breath.Did he do all those crazy things for real?
“Go with Vail and find me a drink. A real drink.”
