I head to the railing and lock my gaze on the horizon. The hum of the engine vibrates beneath my feet, the music sweepingaway all thought in my head. The wind is harsh against my skin, and my eyes are watering. I feel alive. Truly alive.
“Brilliant.” A masculine sigh floats on the breeze next to me.
I turn and see Mac has joined me, one hand gripping the railing, the other leaning on a cane. He’s dressed in a tailored pinstripe suit, his eyes locked on the sparkling water, a content smile curving his mouth. Despite the peaceful moment, I can see the toll his injury has taken on him in the deep lines bracketing his eyes and mouth, and the carved shadows beneath his eyes. And despite getting stronger every day, his skin is still unnaturally pale.
I turn my attention back to the water. “Yes, she is.”
He chuckles. “I agree the sea is a woman. Irishmen are wary of her. Think she’s unpredictable, cold and dangerous. But the truth is, it’s the storms that come and rile her up. Those are what makes her dangerous.”
His words conjure up an image of Michael. I grip the railing tighter, like I can anchor myself in the present and not slip back into his clutches. “The trick is to outrun the storms.”
I feel him turn to study me. “You ever need a lifeline, love… you let me know.”
My vision grows blurry. Damn wind. Did Killian tell him about me needing money? Probably. My gaze shifts to him, and I force a smile. “Thanks, Mac.” Then I change the subject.
The evening progresses. The guests gather on the top deck to ooh and ahh as the sun dips below the cloud-studded horizon; the dining room opens and begins to serve upscale tapas; the gambling room fills up and the girls work their magic on the poles, mingle and acquire wads of cash.
I’m jealous and not a little angry, wondering why Killian won’t let me dance. I can teach and dance, too. If he didn’t think I was good enough, why would he have me teach? Infuriating mobster. He probably gets off on controlling people. Tellling people no.
That thought leads me down to the bar to order another Hurricane, which I sip as I walk around, keeping an eye on the guests, making sure they’re having a good time. I’ve seen Killian a few times, always deep in conversation with someone, though as soon as I spot him, his eyes snap to me like he can feel my attention, like there’s an invisible thread between us. It’s unnerving.
The time flies by, the patrons get louder, drunker, more money flows. The guards watch the crowd closer, once in a while rescuing a dancer from a handsy client.
At one point, the biotech billionaire, Edward Glazer, corners me at the bar and gets a bit handsy himself. I freeze for a moment. Then I see Killian stalking toward us, but I hold up a hand. I need to handle this myself. I can’t freak out every time a man touches me. The way I slapped Killian really startled me.
I successfully move his hand from my hip as I tell him his blonde companion could make trouble for me and get me fired if she gets jealous. Then I place the bourbon in it that Scarlett has left by my elbow. Smart woman. It’s done. He’s distracted and I slip away, only trembling a little.
But I look up to see Killian’s stock still, his eyes burning, still locked on Mr. Glazer.Geesh.He takes the no-touching-his-employees thing too damn seriously. His gaze sweeps over to me, his jaw muscles working.
“I’m fine,” I mouth.
But he doesn’t look appeased. Instead, he stalks over to one of his guards and pulls him aside.
I roll my eyes as I step into the elevator with my drink and smile at a middle-aged couple whose space I’m invading. I take the opportunity to introduce myself and ask if they need anything. They gush about how much fun they’re having and how Tampa needed new entertainment.
“I’ll be sure to pass that along to Mr. Donnelly,” I say, finding myself weirdly proud of Killian’s accomplishment here.
Chapter 18
Killian
Icouldn’t ask for a grander launch for The Lucky Sinner. While everyone is entertained and spending loads of money, Sully and I have made some important contacts. Still, there’s an underlying current of agitation in my bones. An itch that desperately needs scratching. Halfway through the night, I realize that itch is the smart, curvy brunette with too many secrets and a sassy mouth.
Bleedin’ hell.
I can’t seem to stop myself from looking for her in every corner. Right now, she’s at the bar, her smile lighting up the room as she laughs at something Dominic Breyer of Breyer Wealth Management has just said. My mood darkens. I clench my fists at my side. The prick doesn’t deserve her smile.
And you do?The annoying devil on my shoulder scoffs. Maybe tasking her with keepin’ my clients happy wasn’t my finest idea. I’m about to force myself to turn away when Edward Glazer sidles up to the bar, his attention locked on Sam.
Jezus bleedin’ Christ, didn’t I give these fuckers enough women to drool over?
And then Sam goes still. My eyes flick down to Glazer’s right hand resting on her hip, and a red haze blurs my vision. Every muscle in my body vibrates with rage as I take a steptoward them. But then I meet Sam’s gaze and it’s full of fierce determination. She raises a hand to stop me.
Fighting against myself, I manage to stay where I am and just watch.
Her smile is gone when she looks Glazer in the eyes and says something to him.
Scarlett appears and places a bourbon next to him. Sam picks it up and holds it out. Frazer removes his hand and accepts the drink. Scarlett is getting a bleedin’ bonus tonight.
