Chapter Eight Quinn
W ith amusement, I watched Isla shakily pour a tumbler of whiskey. I would’ve wagered a hundred bucks that she’d never had a sip in her life. When she threw back a determined gulp, I held my breath.
Her eyes bulged before the amber liquid spewed from her lips. “Oh God.”
I snorted. “Not your taste?”
“It’s horrible.”
“Why am I not surprised, Little Dove?”
With a curious look, Isla pursed her lips at me. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
“Doves are birds of peace and innocence. Those are qualities you possess.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’d hardly call me dancing in a gentleman’s club innocent.”
“Compared to someone in my world, you are innocent.”
“I guess.” She tilted her head at me. “I suppose I could say you’re corrupting me.”
A growl came from low in my chest as the monster thought of all the ways I could corrupt her beautiful body. I knew I had to get away from her.
When Isla’s blue eyes widened, I said, “Stay here. I need to get cleaned up.”
“I can help you.”
I snorted. “You got squeamish at me just saying the word bullet.”
“I can handle it.” At my continued disbelief, she countered, “I’m a scientist, remember? I’m used to handling all kinds of gross things.”
When I opened my mouth to tell her okay, I quickly shut it. If she was to help me, she’d have to see me without my shirt.
Without my shirt, she’d see the rest of my scars.
I couldn’t let that happen. It was one thing to see them on my face and neck, it was another to see them down my side. Regardless of her initial interest in them, I couldn’t bear to see revulsion reflected in her eyes.
I’d rather take another fucking bullet.
“It’s okay. I can do it myself.”
She playfully rolled her eyes. “Quit being so stubborn and let me do it.”
When she took a step towards me, I stepped back. Throwing up my hands, I snapped, “What is it with you? I said I don't need your fucking help.”
Isla’s blonde brows furrowed. “I’m sorry.” After gnawing on her lip, she said, “I’ll just go.”
As she started for the door, I grabbed her arm. “Don’t go.”
“But you–”
“I was being an asshole.”
She shook her head. “I shouldn't have pressured you.”
“Stop arguing and start helping me.”
With a huff, she replied, “Fine.”
As Isla followed me into the bathroom, I inwardly groaned at the bright lights that were about to highlight my scars. I would’ve given anything to turn them off. To save more than her from having to see them.
With a grimace, I eased the shirt off my shoulders and down my arms. At Isla’s gasp, I froze. When I dared to look at her, she wasn’t staring at my scars. Instead, her gaze was on my still gaping wound. “T-That looks h-horrible.”
I quirked my brows at her. “What happened to being a scientist?”
Crimson dotted her cheeks. “It’s a lot different seeing things in the lab.”
“Does that mean you’re not going to help me clean my wound?”
“Maybe if you can distract me.”
“Shouldn’t you be the one doing that to me?” I countered.
Her shaky hand reached for the gauze and alcohol that I had put out on the counter. “Yes. But in this case, I’m going to be selfish.”
My chuckle was short-lived when she gently swiped the gauze across the wound. I sucked in a harsh breath. With gritted teeth, I said, “The first time I saw you I thought you could be the Irish goddess and faerie queen, Cliodna.”
“Why?”
“Because in our folklore, she was considered to be the most beautiful woman in the world.”
Isla’s hand froze. She jerked her focus from my wound to my eyes. “You think I’m beautiful?” she questioned softly.
I shook my head. “No. I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
Her cheeks reddened. “Thank you, but I think you’re exaggerating.”
“I can assure you I’m not. Every man at this club thinks the same thing I do.”
A nervous giggle fluttered from her lips. “Stop. You’re embarrassing me.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not used to men complimenting you.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Then you must’ve been around more boys than men. Of course, I suppose that should’ve been evident with your lack of orgasms.”
“Quinn!” she admonished.
A laugh barked from me at her outrage. “It’s the truth.”
“Can we please change the subject? I’m more than just my looks, you know.”
“Oh yes, I’m well aware of that.”
She smiled shyly. “What else was special about that Irish goddess besides her beauty?”
“Cliodna possessed three magical birds. It’s said their song was so sweet they could send the wounded and sick into a peaceful sleep.”
“Avian anesthesia,” she mused.
With a laugh, I replied, “That’s right.” I stared into her eyes. “Cliodna’s birds are another reason why I call you dove.”
Isla didn’t respond. Instead, she worked at cleaning the dried blood on my abdomen. When my muscles involuntarily clenched under her fingers, I sucked in a breath. Her gaze shot to mine. “Did I hurt you?”
“It depends on your definition of hurt.”
Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Sorry. I’ll be easier.”
“But I like it rough.”
At her gasp of realization, I leaned in, my blood-stained hands cupped her alabaster cheeks. When I stared into her eyes, desire shined back at me. Dipping my head, my lips brushed against hers. At her tiny moan, I deepened the kiss, my tongue licking at the seam of her mouth.
A shudder went through me at the taste.
So sweet.
So pure.
So addicting.
At the buzzing in my pants pocket, she jerked away from me. “Fuck,” I grunted, as I fished my phone out. “What?” I demanded.
Silence echoed on the line. After a few seconds, a throat cleared. “I’m terribly sorry to bother you, Mr. Kavanaugh. Is Isla with you?”
“She is.”
“Oh, okay. I just wanted to make sure. She hadn’t returned from delivering the receipts to you, and I need to cash her out.”
“I’ll send her back down shortly.”
“Yes, sir.”
When I hung up, I stared into Isla’s expectant blue eyes. “As usual, my reputation precedes me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sarah just called to check on you.”
“Seriously? Why would she be worried?”
“Because you were with me.” I waggled my brows. “The monster.”
“The asshole ,” she corrected with a teasing smile.
A deep chuckle rumbled through my chest. “Right.”
At that moment, my office door whipped open, and Shane stepped inside with one of the doctors on our payroll. “I’d like to go a whole week without having to patch up someone from your clan,” Dr. Feeny remarked with his usual sour expression.
“Mine isn’t as bad as what Callum just put you through.”
Isla glanced between me and Dr. Feeny. “Well, I better go and cash out.”
“Thank you for bringing those files and helping clean me up,” I said.
“You’re welcome. Please get some rest and take care of yourself.”
“I’ll try.”
Smiling, she replied, “You better.”
For a moment, I thought she might give me a kiss goodbye. Instead, she hurried past Shane and Dr. Feeny and out the door. When I saw their questioning expressions, I rolled my eyes. “Don’t fucking ask.