Page 112 of King of Temptation

“Bossy bastard,” she mumbled beneath her breath as she snatched the water from his hand. But she paused on her way back to her seat to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Thank you. That may be the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Heat flashed in his eyes as he lifted a hand to cradle her face. “I love you,” he said simply, leaning in to brush a kiss over her lips. “Now, sit your ass down and drink your water.”

Yes, Daddy.

Brody

* * *

He was fucking exhausted and he hadn’t even done half the work Goldie had during her signing. And even though she’d clearly enjoyed herself, he could still see the exhaustion dragging her down as she sat in the passenger seat, staring somewhat dazedly out the window.

Home, a hot meal, and bed. Maybe a bubble bath, with a couple good orgasms thrown in to help her sleep. They’d be passing right by The Hollow Saint, so he could even pop in and get some of that cheesecake she⁠—

Goldie’s shocked gasp interrupted his train of thought. “Holy shit, is that Rowan?”

Every cell in his body went on alert as he whipped his head to the side to follow her line of sight.

Son of a bitch.

Right out in the open, in broad daylight, stood his cousin’s son along with two beefy Russians Brody only vaguely recognized.

Where was the man Killian had put on him? Why hadn’t they been alerted he was heading to the docks?

Killian was going to have someone’s ass for this.

Slowing the car, he guided it into a parking lot across the street from where Rowan was having his showdown. “Stay here.”

“Fuck that, I’m coming with you.”

Goldie was already reaching for her seatbelt, and he’d spent enough time with her to know that if he tried to force her to stay she’d just follow him anyway. And if she didn’t follow him right away, he’d be checking over his shoulder every thirty seconds to ensure she’d stayed put.

“Fine, but you do exactly as you’re told, the second you’re told. Understood?”

“Sure, as long as ‘what I’m told’ doesn’t involve leaving you behind.”

Reaching over, he fisted a hand in her hair, pulling her close enough he could hear the hitch in her breath as she inhaled sharply. “This isn’t a negotiation, menace. If I can’t trust you’ll follow orders, I’ll be distracted. And being distracted is how people get killed. So are you going to be a good girl and listen, or am I taking you home and calling Reagan to come babysit you while I deal with this?”

“I’ll be good. I promise.”

Sincerity rang out in her tone, and he could see it reflected in her eyes, along with just enough fear for him to be satisfied she’d obey. “Good girl. Follow me, and don’t make a single fucking sound.”

Pinching her fingers together in front of her lips, she mimed zipping them and throwing away an imaginary key, and despite the adrenaline and fury pulsing through his veins he snorted out a laugh at her antics. Together, they made their way behind the building at the edge of the parking lot where Rowan could now be heard shouting at his Russian comrades.

“What the fuck do you mean it’s not what you asked for? You asked for dirt on Killian, I gave you dirt on Killian! Now give me my goddamn money.”

Fuck. There was no way Rowan wasn’t the mole.

This was going to fucking kill Murphy.

The larger of the two Russians snorted and pulled what looked to be photographs from a folder. “We asked for intel, you spineless weasel. Not porn.”

Wait. Porn?

Snatching the pictures from the Russian’s hand, Rowan waved them in his face. “Killian and his wife are members of a sex club! No self-respecting businessman or politician in this town is going to want to have anything to do with Killian O’Rourke once this goes public!”

Oh, fuck no. If he’d taken pictures of Aria at the club, they were all going to take turns kicking his ass. Giving the Russians “dirt” on Killian was one thing. Involving his wife was completely out of fucking order.

“Did he give them pictures of Aria?” Goldie hissed from beside him, echoing his own thoughts. “I’m going to fucking murder him.”