At the end of the table, Lochlan and Tiernan both grinned and shared a look. “We have some ideas,” Lochlan said.
They spent the better part of two hours discussing the plan over dinner, then dessert before he sent everyone home. Reagan slipped away somewhere, giving him the privacy he needed with his woman.
Standing at the bottom of the stairs, he gave in to the need to touch her, to reassure himself she was real and unharmed and here. “How are you feeling?”
“Pissed off.”
“Oddly enough, I picked up on that,” he said with a low laugh, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks as he cupped her face. “But then, you’ve been pissed at me from the moment you learned who I was.”
“I was. I’m not now.”
Hope unfurled in his chest. “Oh?”
“No.” Moving in, she slid her arms around his waist, her head tilting back, inviting him to touch and taste. “I still don’t approve of your methods, but after today I understand why you reacted the way you did. And I’m genuinely sorry I didn’t take your warnings seriously at first. Forgive me for being a stubborn, self-righteous idiot?”
“You weren’t an idiot. It’s impossible for most people to truly understand the life we lead and the danger inherent in it without having lived it themselves.”
“I’m starting to see that,” she murmured.
“Aria…” Again the words he wanted to give her burned on his tongue. But perhaps he was more of a coward than he was willing to admit, because he once more held them back. “Come to bed with me. Not for sex,” he assured her when her brows furrowed. “I just want to hold you. To know you’re safe.”
Those stormy blue eyes searched his face, as if looking for any hint he might be trying to trick her. Apparently satisfied with what she found there, she nodded.
“All right. Take me to bed, O’Rourke.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Killian
“I’m still a bit surprised you agreed to this.” Amusement wound around Aria’s words as she allowed him to help her into a long peacoat the same shade as the dress she’d worn to dinner two nights before. He’d decided he enjoyed the way she looked in jewel tones, his own priceless gem, and he’d possibly gone overboard buying her things, especially seeing as how both the seasons and her body were changing with every passing day.
But he couldn’t seem to help himself when it came to her, and so her closet grew increasingly more crowded.
“As you said, we need to make a statement.”
Turning in his arms, she quirked a brow up at him in a rather impressive mimicry of the look he so often found himself giving her. Either he was rubbing off on her or Reagan was giving her lessons. Both options seemed equally plausible.
“I did say that. I just wasn’t expecting the statement to be ‘Here we are, come take another shot at us and our child.’”
Despite the evenness of her words, fear rippled beneath them. Hearing it, he pulled her more tightly against him, dipping his head to capture her lips in a slow, comforting kiss.
“You have my word nothing will happen to you or our baby,” he murmured when he lifted his head again to stare down into her stormy eyes. “We have an army at our disposal, and every single one of them would lay down their lives to protect you.”
“You do realize that only pisses me off more, right? The thought that I can’t even leave my home without a fucking army?”
Did she realize she’d referred to his house as her home? He had a feeling she didn’t, and he wasn’t going to ruin the moment by pointing it out to her. “I know. But that’s good.”
“It is?”
“Yes. Anger, at least a little bit, keeps you on your toes. Too much and it can cloud your vision, make you sloppy. But just the right amount can help you stay vigilant, prevent you from getting complacent.”
Tilting her head, she raked her gaze over his face. “That sounds like the voice of experience.”
“It is. I’ve been angry every day of my life for the last decade.”
Grief darkened her eyes. “That pisses me off, too. Regardless of what you’ve done, of what your family has done, you didn’t deserve that. None of you did.”
Knowing how she felt about the things he and his family had done, those words did more to ease the grief he carried with him than anything else over the past ten years had. “We should get going. Don’t want to be late for our reservation.”
