Page 87 of King of Temptation

“And I’m telling you to drop it. Unless you want to spend your time writing lines instead of getting an extra hour of writing in. Understood?”

She absolutely did not want to do that. “Fine. But we’re not done talking about this.”

The grip on her face tightened, sending her heart racing when he used his hold on her to force her head back. “Is that how you answer me, menace?”

Yeah, she was definitely pushing her luck. And as tempted as she was to continue pushing just to see what would happen, she really didn’t want to write lines all night. “No, Sir.”

“Then try again. Are you going to stop arguing with me about this, Marigold Jane?”

God, she hated how much she loved it when he got all bossy like that. Hated the way her pussy clenched at the low growl of his voice, the way her blood heated when he demanded her obedience.

But she did love it, and she wasn’t keen to earn herself a trip over his knee or the lines he’d threatened her with, so she swallowed her pride and gave him the words he wanted to hear. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, dipping his head to capture her lips with his. And for a few blissful seconds, she forgot she was mad at him, forgot he was shutting her out of family business, forgot everything but the feel of his lips, hard and demanding on hers.

By the time he lifted his head to grin down at her, she could barely think straight enough to remember why she was supposed to be annoyed with him. “Behave yourself tonight and when we get home I’ll eat your pretty little pussy until you come more times than you can count. Deal?”

Now that was a deal she could get behind.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Goldie

* * *

They left her in what Killian had called the parlor. Reagan had made sure she had plenty of snacks—ridiculously unhealthy ones that Brody had grumbled about for a solid five minutes—a whole bottle of wine, and a place to set up her laptop. Realistically, it was all she needed and she should be grateful for the extra hour of writing time.

But she couldn’t help feeling like a child who’d been plopped in front of the tv to keep her busy while the adults talked. Especially since Brody had threatened her with his belt if she left the room before he came to get her.

She’d tried to shake it off, and she had actually gotten a decent amount of work done in the first half hour of her confinement. The longer it dragged on, however, the more it nagged at her that she was being left out. That she wasn’t to be trusted with whatever it was they were discussing in there. The more she thought about it, the more Brody’s explanation of keeping her out of the loop to keep her safe sounded like complete and utter bullshit.

Just when she’d worked up enough of a head of steam to go marching into Killian’s office and damn the consequences, the sound of voices in the hall froze her in place. Curiosity, her favorite deadly sin, overrode righteous indignation as she crept toward the door.

“I don’t understand why I have to come make nice with Killian.” A man’s voice, one she didn’t recognize. The whiny tone scraped over her nerves, setting every single one on edge. “He’s the one who threatened me.”

“Which he only did because you disrespected his wife, in his home, Rowan.”

Murphy. She was sure of it. And his son, Rowan. She’d heard bits and pieces about him, enough to know the other members of the family weren’t fans, but she hadn’t actually met him or his girlfriend yet.

“Oh come on, Dad. You saw the way he let her talk to me! He lets her walk all over him and somebody needed to tell him the truth.”

Well, that was one mystery solved. Rowan was apparently on the outs with the head of the family because he’d insulted Aria.

From what she knew of Killian, and the mob in general, Rowan was lucky to still have his tongue.

Have to remember that one. Would make a great scene in one of my books.

Tucking that little plot bunny away for later, she pressed her ear more firmly against the door to listen.

“Aria is a member of this family, and the mother of Killian’s child. You will show her and Killian the respect they are due. Starting with a meaningful apology to both of them.”

His demand was met with stony silence, and after a long while, someone sighed.

“Rowan, I’m asking this as your father. Not as an O’Rourke. Our family has suffered enough. Please don’t ask me to watch you walk away from us, on top of everything else we’ve lost.”

“All right.” Rowan’s voice had gentled considerably, and Goldie was left feeling as though she was eavesdropping on a very private moment. “I’ll do it. For the family.”

“Thank you, son. I’m going to let Killian know we’re here and see if he’ll speak with us. Wait here.”