Page 65 of His Kidnapped Irish Mafia Virgin

Liam pulled me into his arms, holding me carefully against his chest, and I buried my face against him as relief, joy, and love flooded through me all at once.

The study around us faded into the background, leaving only the warmth of his body and the certainty of his answer.

Liam touched my cheek softly, brushing away the tears I hadn’t realized were there. His eyes searched mine, full of tenderness and something so deep it made my chest ache.

I leaned into him, resting my forehead against his, and felt his breath mingle with mine. He kissed me slowly, carefully, as if he wanted to memorize the moment instead of rush through it. The kiss was gentle, filled with gratitude, relief, and the quiet promise of a future we were choosing together.

Liam guided me to the couch by the window and sat beside me, pulling me close with careful hands. I curled against him, my head resting on his chest while his fingers moved lightly through my hair. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothed the last of the fear still lingering inside me.

He kissed my forehead, my temple, and the corner of my mouth, each touch tender and unhurried. I held onto him tightly, letting myself feel the safety of being wanted without conditions, fear, or hesitation.

His fingers moved to my shirt and undid the buttons. He was gentle when he relieved me of it, making sure my injured arm didn’t move too far.

Because of my arm, Liam turned me gently, positioning me so there was no pressure on it. I felt his hands settle around my waist as he came close behind me.

He paused. “Tell me if this hurts.”

I nodded. His lips brushed my shoulder. Then he held me firmly, and the tenderness between us changed into something warmer and more urgent. I gripped the edge of the couch, my breathing catching as he pulled me closer.

I closed my eyes. There was something deeply intimate about being held that way, knowing he was still being careful with me even as we gave ourselves to each other.

For a while, nothing existed except the wave of pleasure that ran from the top of my head to my toes. I opened my mouth, but whatever I was saying was gibberish.

Maybe it was because of my proposal, but I’d never felt this good with him. My whole body trembled with the intense pleasure I was feeling. That was what love did to me. A moan escaped me before I could catch it.

When it was over, Liam immediately gathered me against his chest, checking my arm before pulling the blanket around us. I rested my head against him, exhausted and smiling. He kissed my hair.

“I love you, Nora.”

I tightened my arms around him. “I love you, too.”

And for once, there was nothing to fear.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Liam

The call came just after midnight, cutting through the silence of my office.

I answered before the third ring, my pulse already sharpening with the instinct that this wasn’t another dead end.

“Liam,” Diggs said, his voice low and urgent. “We’ve got something.”

I straightened in my chair. “Talk.”

“One of our contacts confirmed movement at an old warehouse near the docks. It matches the location we traced through the fixer’s financial records, and the vehicles seen entering the compound are tied to the same syndicate connected to Victor Hale.”

I gripped the phone tighter. “Are you certain?”

“As certain as the sky is blue,” Diggs replied. “Victor Hale was seen there less than an hour ago.”

For a moment, the room seemed to narrow around me. The weeks of searching, chasing leads, and piecing together fragments of information had finally led somewhere real—a location, a target, a chance to end this.

“I’m coming down,” I said. I ended the call and gathered the files spread across the desk. Maps, surveillance photos, phone records, and reports disappeared into my hands as I moved toward the door with renewed purpose.

Victor had made a mistake. He’d stayed in one place long enough for us to find him. Sean was already there when I entered the main briefing room. He stood near the long table with Paddy and Michael, reviewing reports beneath the harsh white overhead lights. The moment he saw my expression, his own hardened.

“What is it?” Sean asked.