Page 46

“We've got a problem.” His voice tells me everything I need to know before he even says it. “Someone knows you were at the auction. Someone knows you won the bid. They're not happy about it, Torin. They're looking.”

Let them fucking come.

“Who?” I ask.

“We don't know yet, but my bet's on the Boston Irish. Maybe they ran facial recognition software. But Declan's been working it hard, and you know he still has connections in Boston. He caught a few texts. The good news is they have no idea where you are.”

I nod, even though he can't see it. “Good. That means I'm going to hit those fuckers where it hurts.”

I turn so my back is to the window and I can see the room. She's still at the table, still eating, but her gaze has shifted. “How close are they?” I ask.

“Close enough that you're going to have to move. Not today, maybe, but soon. They're not going to let this sit. Whatever network was running that auction, whoever paid to have her on that block in the first place, they had resources, and now they know someone pulled her out from under them.”

“Right,” I say. I don’t tell him I suspect she has a tracker. If she hears me, she might freak out. “What do you know about the Espositos?”

She sits up and turns toward me without any pretense on her face at the sound of her family name. I keep my voice even.

“Nothing yet,” Seamus says. “Declan's been in contact with Lorenzo, but Giuseppe hasn't returned his calls. I suspect he might want nothing to do with us now that we're not marrying his sister, but we're not convinced they’re innocent. You know that men like them would do anything for a price.”

I do know it. I know it all too well. I am one of those men.

“That's it for now. Listen, though, if you haven't told her who you really are, it's time. You need her on your side now.”

“That wasn’t the plan.” I don’t like deviating from the plan.

“I know, but the sooner she isn’t fighting you, the better.” He pauses. “How would you say that’s… uh… going?”

I hold her gaze as I answer. Her fork is down, her sheet pulled up tight against her body. Her face is neutral, but her eyes are not. I look at the faint mark of my fingerprints on her neck and the empty plate on the table.

Well. It’s going well.

“Feisty as hell,” I tell him. “Stubborn as stone. Doesn't want to hear a word I say.”

A hint of pride and a ghost of a smile cross her face.

He actually chuckles on the other end of the phone. “In other words, she's perfect for you. Docile would put you to sleep.”

“Fuck off,” I tell him. She's still staring at me. “I’ve got it handled, I promise.”

“I’m sure you do.”

She gives me the finger without breaking eye contact. I click my tongue and wag one back at her. Christ, I like her.

“Right, stay in touch. Declan's going to reach out to you. Stay safe, brother.”

I hang up the phone. She shivers a little.

“You cold?”

“Little bit.”

I walk silently to the closet and find a spare blanket still in its packaging on the top shelf. I pull the plastic off, shake it out, and bring it back to where she's sitting. I drape it around her shoulders and tuck it in at the front without making a thing of it.

It's a gray day in Boston, but it's gorgeous, the leaves outside the window burning in hues of orange, red, and yellow.

“The foliage is a lot prettier here than it is at home.”

“Where's home?” she asks.