Popping a chunk of muffin in her mouth, she just resisted the urge to moan with pleasure. They were just as good, if not better than Holden’s. “Why’d you make that face?”
Her host frowned, ever so slightly. “I didn’t make a face.”
“You did. When you said Rowan’s name, your nose crinkled up and your brows drew together. You don’t like him.”
“He’s my nephew. He’s family.”
“That doesn’t mean you like him.”
“I may have to start bringing you to the negotiation table,” Killian grumbled as he scooped up a forkful of eggs. “You are far too observant for my own good.”
She rolled her eyes. Another of those little habits women were always getting spanked for in books, and her clit throbbed at the possibility. “Yes, because I busted my ass to get into law school so I could help a mob boss negotiate the price on his next weapons shipment.”
“That’s not all I do, you know.”
“I know. I’m sure there are drugs involved as well. Maybe a little human trafficking.”
“No. Never.”
Something about his tone had her pausing, looking up at him. A muscle in his jaw jumped, and his movements weren’t as fluid as they normally were.
She’d hit a nerve.
“Never what?” she pushed. “Never kidnap a woman off the street, spank her without her consent, and hold her hostage in your home?”
Again with that jumping muscle as his expression darkened. “That isn’t the same and you know it. You’re here for your protection. I have no plans to let another man within ten feet of you.”
“Why not? Am I not pretty enough for market?”
When he looked up at her, his eyes were so dark they were nearly black, the pupils having all but obliterated the green. “Because if another man ever so much as thought about putting his hands on you, I would kill him. It would be a slow, painful death, nothing as tidy as a bullet to the head. And I wouldn’t outsource it to Lochlan, as much as he would enjoy the job. I would do it myself, so I could watch the light leave his eyes and know for myself he would never touch you again.”
Her breath tangled in her chest. That was not hot.
It wasn’t.
Fuck.
“Still.” Somehow, her voice sounded perfectly normal despite the emotional war raging itself in her chest. “You’re telling me that Killian O’Rourke, one of the most feared men on the East Coast, draws the line at a little human trafficking?”
“I do. The O’Rourkes may be criminals, but we do have our principles. One of which is to do the least harm possible.”
“So selling drugs to kids is fine?”
“We don’t move drugs. At least, not anymore. My father despised them and he was making moves to extricate us from the last of our obligations when he died.”
God help her, she actually believed him. More, her heart ached for him. There was such a mix of pride and sadness in his voice when he spoke of his father, she couldn’t help but be drawn in. “Will you tell me about them? Your parents? How did they die?”
Blinking as if he was surprised to find her sitting across from him, Killian smiled. But not the bright, boyish grin he’d given her when he was trying to cajole his way into her bedroom. This smile was tight at the edges, forced, and she found herself missing that easy, flirtatious smile from before—and then wondering why the fuck she cared. “Perhaps another time. Are you enjoying your books? I would have sent physical copies, but I wasn’t sure what you’d be interested in.”
Heat infused her cheeks at his question. Because yes, she was enjoying her books, more than she was prepared to admit to anyone, but especially him. “The e-reader is fine, thanks.”
His smile shifted, turned mischievous. “What have you been reading?”
He couldn’t know. And yet, that smile said he knew exactly what she’d been up to and exactly what kind of effect it was having on her. “How-to manuals.”
His brows rose, surprise flickering in his eyes. “What kind of how-to manuals?”
“Oh, you know. Kidnapping, torture, murder. Everything the woman carrying a mob boss’s child might need to know.”
