Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Gia
I turn around and face Diarmuid O’Hara as he approaches. “Although I was not referring to you, my comment was unprofessional, and I apologize, Mr. O’Hara.” This isn’t the kind of first impression I wanted to make. Diarmuid will be my only ally on the inside, and I want him to like me so he fights to ensure I make it out alive.
I’ve seen photos of him and his brother—they were in the file I received—and both are good-looking dudes, but Diarmuid’s picture has not done him justice. His blue eyes are a deep navy with vast swirling depths, and his thick hair is darker in real life. If it was sunny, I’d no doubt see the evidence of reddish undertones. He’s tall and broad but not quite as tall or broad as Joshua.
“There is no need to apologize, Ms. Bianchi. Calling my brother a prick is a kindness he doesn’t deserve.”
“Wow. I really can’t wait to meet him now,” I joke, extending my hand. “And please call me Gia.”
“Only if you call me Diarmuid.” He lifts my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss on my skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Joshua clenching his jaw. “You are very beautiful, Gia,” Diarmuid says in that singsong voice, smiling as he casts a quick respectful glance over me. “My brother will be tripping over himself to get to you.”
“That’s the plan,” Joshua says in a voice devoid of warmth and emotion. “We’re all set to go on our side.”
“As are we.” O’Hara sends a curious gaze Joshua’s way.
“You can let go of her hand now.”
Diarmuid’s eyes widen as he releases me. “Apologies, Gia. I didn’t realize I was still holding your hand.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t mind.” I flash him a flirty grin.
What the hell, Gia?
“So, um, how will the introduction work?” I ask, my gaze bouncing between both men as they appear to size one another up. I thought they were friends as much as work partners, so I don’t understand where this masculine bullshit is coming from.
“You’re to act as the date of one of my men,” Diarmuid explains. “He’s a regular at the club Liam is attending tonight. You’ll dance and flirt in front of my brother. He won’t be able to resist when he sees you on the arm of one of my guys. He’ll enjoy stealing you from him.”
“I read your report in the files I was given. How does this strategy fit the play-hard-to-get suggestion?”
“Liam’s ego exists on its own planet. He’ll expect you to be attracted to him and to be unable to resist ditching your date for him. Once he knows you’re into it, then you keep him dangling. If you give in too easily, he’ll lose interest fast. He loves the chase.”
“We don’t have time to let this play out long-term,” Joshua says. “Gia needs to gain his trust quickly.”
“I didn’t say the chase had to be long. Just don’t give in the first few times he asks you out, and make him wait to bed you. The more worked up you can get him, the more he might slip up and give something away. Liam is thirty-one in a few weeks, and he’s been talking about finding a bride. Show him you’re marriage material, and you’ll have him eating out of the palm of your hand.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
“I have a couple guys watching out for you. They are close with some of Liam’s men. I won’t introduce you because it’s better you don’t know. But they’ll be keeping their eyes and ears to the ground and protecting you as best they can.”
“I appreciate it. Don’t worry about me. I’m trained and resourceful.”
“I’ve seen your credentials. You’re a very impressive young woman, Gia, and no one is taking you down on my watch.”
“Call me when you’re on your way home,” Joshua says as we linger by the taxi. “And we expect regular reports, as long as it’s safe to submit them.”
“I know the score, Joshua. And I’m a computer science major. I’ll leave no trace.”
“We have faith in you. Watch your back.” He walks off, and I admire the view of his broad shoulders, trim waist, and toned ass before I get a grip and climb into the back seat where my fake date is waiting.
Owen is a nice guy, and we chat casually on the way to the club, and it helps to keep my nerves at bay.
Owen helps me out of the car when we arrive, keeping a firm hold of my hand as we bypass the long line and head straight toward the VIP entrance. He gives our names to the beefcake at the door, and we’re escorted inside.
The club is bustling as you’d expect from one of the most popular hangouts in The Big Apple. It’s been on Elisa’s list and mine to check out and a pang of sadness slaps me in the face that I’m not experiencing it with my bestie.
Owen gets us drinks. A virgin mojito for me and a beer for him. He steers me toward the VIP entrance with one hand on my lower back. “Stick by my side at all times until you’ve snared Liam,” he says into my ear as we climb the stairs to the upper level.
“Got it.”
He stops at the top, turning to face me. “We’ll have to get a bit handsy, maybe kiss a bit. That okay with you?”
Owen is cute, so flirting with him won’t be a chore. I grin as I plant my hand on his chest. “Not a problem, Owen. We’ve both got jobs to do, and this isn’t the hard part.” I brush my lips against his mouth. “We should both act how we would on a real date.”
He chuckles. “I don’t date. I fuck.” He waggles his brows, and I roll my eyes. “But I can pretend.”
What is it with made men being complete and utter sluts? I think the Italians and the Irish are more alike than they’d care to admit.
Finding two empty stools at a high table close to the bar, we settle down to enjoy our drinks. Conversation flows easily as we scan our surroundings. It’s busy up here too. All the booths at the back are occupied, and a heaving crowd throws shapes on the large dance floor. Beats thump through speakers from the DJ area downstairs.
It doesn’t take long for us to locate Liam. His crew of ten commandeers two large booths tucked into the corner. Girls have gravitated to the area like flies on shit, and the Irish are lapping up the attention. Buckets with beer, cider, and bottles of whiskey sit on the tables as servers work fast to remove empties and replace glasses.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Owen says after taking a swig from his beer. “Look around like you’re bored. See if you can capture his eye.”
I nod, and he walks off. Licking my lips, I raise my glass to my mouth and toss my hair back as I subtly look around. I angle my body in the stool, sitting up straighter and ensuring he has a good view of my side profile.
I feel him watching me, but I don’t look over at first, casting my gaze around the room. Then I purposely turn in his direction, locking eyes. I dart my tongue out, wetting my lips, before I take a slow drink of my mojito. I look away and look back, deliberately fighting a smile and ensuring he sees it before I break eye contact again. We play this game for another few minutes, and I know I have his attention now. It’s an effort not to squirm at the way his gaze lingers on my chest, but I remind myself I’m just acting. My normal insecurities about my chest have to take a hike for this mission.
The blonde perched on his lap shoots daggers my way. Her big tits are practically shoved in his face as she attempts to reclaim his attention, but I already know she’s just someone he’s picked to screw. She doesn’t fit the profile, so she’s only a temporary distraction.
When Owen returns, I plaster a big smile on my face, giving him my full attention. “It worked,” he says, leaning in to kiss me.
“Like a charm,” I agree, grabbing the back of his head before he can pull away. Our lips collide in a firm kiss, and I angle my head and thrust my chest out as I wind my arms around his neck. Owen is a good kisser, and if this was a normal date, I’d probably screw him later.
“Wow. You’re really going for it,” he says a few minutes later, tugging on my earlobe with his teeth.
“Go big or go home is my motto tonight. I can’t afford to fuck this up.”
“Come on then.” His hands land on my hips as he helps me down from the stool. “By the way, you are fucking gorgeous. I should have said that already.”
“You don’t need to charm me, Owen, but I appreciate the compliment.”
“It’s no lie.” He smirks at Liam as we walk by his table, and I fake big doe eyes when I quickly look in his direction. Liam’s nostrils are flaring, and he’s gripping the edge of the table. I’d say we’ve definitely ignited his competitive spirit.
Owen and I put on the show of a lifetime on the dance floor. I’m conscious not to overdo it. Liam is looking for a lady, not a woman who gives it away to others on the regular, so it’s natural that I slap Owen’s hands away when he gets a bit too amorous.
“He’s watching us like a hawk, and he’s not happy,” Owen says, pulling me into his chest and squeezing my ass. “It’s time to force him to make a move. Are you ready?”
“Born ready,” I quip. I palm his face. “I was pretty nervous coming out tonight, but you’ve helped to put me at ease. Thank you.”
“I got to kiss a pretty girl, and hanging out with you was fun. Trust me when I say no thanks are necessary.” He presses a hard kiss to my mouth. “Maybe some time, when this is all over, we can go on a date for real.”
“I thought you didn’t date?” I lift a brow as we grind against one another, swaying to the music.
“I’d make an exception for you.”
A genuine smile spreads across my mouth. “Rain check then?”
“Yes please.” He moves his mouth to my ear. “He’s probably going to get me thrown out, but I can wait outside to ensure you make it home safely.”
I press my mouth to his ear as I shimmy my hips, conscious Liam is watching. “Don’t. He may want to escort me home, and I don’t want him trying anything with you if he sees you outside.”
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Okay. Let’s do this.” He waggles his brows before turning me around so Liam is getting a front-row view. “I apologize in advance.” Owen’s left hand digs into my hip as he grinds against me from behind. He’s hard, and I’m a little turned on too. When he roughly grabs my boob with his free hand and fondles me in front of everyone, I don’t have to act when I stomp down hard on his foot and dig my elbow into his stomach. He releases me with an oomph as I let the full force of my anger through. I spin around and slam my palms into his chest, knowing Liam is on his way over here without having it confirmed.
“How dare you touch me without permission! I’m not some whore you can feel up in public. I’ve got more respect for myself. We’re done, and I never want to see you again.”
Heat warms me from behind, and all the fine hairs on the back of my neck lift.
“Let me handle this, miss,” a man with a deep voice says, and shivers skate over my skin. They’re not the good kind though. His voice exudes arrogance and possessiveness that isn’t even slightly attractive.
I briefly glance over my shoulder and lock eyes with Liam, forcing a little shock on my face before I compose myself. “I appreciate the offer, but I can handle myself.” I hope my apology is written on my face as I lift my leg and knee Owen in the balls.
He curses, bending over and cupping his crotch.
“I can see that.” Liam’s amusement underscores his tone. He sounds nothing like his brother, but I wasn’t expecting him to. Diarmuid lived in Ireland for thirteen years, yet Liam has lived his entire life in New York. There is no hint of an Irish accent in his voice.
“Ouch,” another unfamiliar man says, coming up alongside Liam. I turn to look at him, instantly recognizing him from the file. He’s Rian Murray, Liam’s best friend and reported unofficial number two. “I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.”
“Get rid of him,” Liam instructs, circling his arm around my waist uninvited.
“I don’t like to be touched without permission,” I calmly say, stepping out of his reach.
“I’m just keeping you safe, baby,” he confirms, reaching for me again.
I fold my arms around myself, knowing it’ll push my tits up. “Like I said, I appreciate it, but I can take care of me.” Liam’s eyes lower to my chest, and his pupils darken.
If he continues being this predictable, this should be a cakewalk.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asks as Rian and a couple of other guys haul Owen up and drag him toward the stairway.
“I’m no one,” I say, moving to push past him.
“You’re most definitely someone.” He falls into step alongside me. “I saw you looking at me earlier.”
“You were looking at me first.” I fling my hair over my shoulders.
“I’m not denying it.” His fingers run through my hair because consent clearly means nothing to this guy. I let it go though, content to reel him in and push him away as we start to play this push-pull charade. “You have the most beautiful hair. You’re fucking gorgeous, and I’m smitten.”
I stop at my table and turn to face him. “You don’t even know me. It’s impossible to be smitten with someone you’ve only just met.”
“I beg to differ, gorgeous.” He takes my hand and kisses it. Unlike the courteous way his brother did it, he presses his smarmy mouth to my skin, lingering as he sucks on it like it’s his God-given right.
I yank my hand back. “I thought we already discussed this. I don’t like to be touched unless it’s consensual.”
“Trust me, it will be.” He flashes me a grin, dazzling me with a bright white smile. There is no denying he’s a good-looking guy. He’s got a couple inches in height on his older brother, but he has a similar build, and the same brownish-red hair. His eyes are green to Diarmuid’s blue, but I’d still identify them as brothers in a lineup.
“Wow. I can’t decide if you’re arrogant or confident.”
“Truthfully, it’s a mix of both.”
I grab my purse.
“Let me buy you a drink.”
“I’ve already got one, and I’m not staying.”
“What do I have to do to get you to stay and have a drink with me? I’ll buy you the finest champagne. The most expensive bottle they have.” He lifts his hand and snaps his fingers, and a guy gets up from one of their tables.
“I don’t drink alcohol,” I lie. Diarmuid mentioned Liam doesn’t like women who drink too much and act inebriated. It’s such sexist bullshit, especially since their tables are dripping with alcohol. His eyes automatically dart to the half-finished mojito on the table.
“It’s a virgin. I prefer to stick to nonalcoholic beverages unless it’s a special occasion. I’m concentrating on building my business, and I don’t like losing time to hangovers when I could be out there growing my empire.”
“Smart as well as beautiful? Now I’m intrigued. And this definitely is a special occasion.” He lifts his hand and touches my face. The guy truly has no respect for boundaries. “It’s the night we met. We’re going to remember this moment and tell our kids and grandkids all about it.”
I blink repeatedly, and I don’t even have to act shocked. “How many times have you used that line, and don’t tell me it actually works?”
He throws back his head and laughs. “Never. It’s not a line. I swear.”
Liar.
He takes my hand again, rubbing his slobbery lips all over my knuckles. The guy is aesthetically pleasing to the eye, but he just creeps me out. If I manage to pull this off, it will be the greatest test of my willpower.
“I can’t stay late. I have a project to work on tomorrow.”
“I’ll ensure you’re home at a reasonable hour. I promise.”
I pretend to think about it.
“Say yes, gorgeous. You won’t regret it.”
“Okay.” I drill him with a look. “One drink, and no touching.”
He offers me his arm and a smug grin. “Whatever you say.”