Chapter 28
AIDEN
Amillion shopping bags are scattered in the living area, ones that I must have missed when I got back to the cottage and realized Catriona wasn’t there.
I hadn’t been thinking straight when I burst inside and found it empty.
I’d been stupid to leave her, even with Bren and Tadhg watching, but the meeting with Niall couldn’t be postponed.
I should have brought backup with me. I’m getting arrogant and sloppy.
And I can’t afford to be. The thought of leaving her alone haunts me worse than Cian’s specter ever has.
“Hope you don’t mind,” she says when she notices where I focus my attention. “I took myself on a little shopping trip today. You’ll be pleased to know how much your money has gone to support the local community.”
If Cian weren’t waiting on us, I’d give her plenty of suggestions, all right.
Tugging her forward by her wrist, I move to the bedroom, where a dress I picked out for her waits with all the appropriate accessories. “You should get changed. Dinner is tonight. I thought we’d have more time, but apparently, he can’t wait.”
Catriona plants her feet, stopping in the doorway to the bedroom. “Aren’t you going to tell me what happened? Is that his handiwork? Why were you late?”
I could lie and come up with something plausible. But… she’s been calling me Aiden. I can’t remember the last time she called me by my first name. Is that all it takes for me to be on my knees for her?
“Aiden,” she barks.
And I know my answer.
She brushes by me and notes the clothes with a raised eyebrow. I move to give her privacy, but she’s already peeling off her sweater, kicking off her boots, and pushing down her jeans. She unclasps her bra and her tits bounce free, tipped with berry-pink nipples already twisted into points.
The sight of her practically naked withers my demands, and I sink to the bed.
My throat goes dry. The thoughts of making her come again come roaring back from where I’d buried them way, way down.
Along with it comes all the emotions I didn’t want to feel.
The fear of finding the cottage empty. The stomach-dropping realization that I couldn’t just push the threat of losing her to the side.
That it would matter to me if she wasn’t here.
How disappointed I am in myself for letting her matter, even the slightest bit.
When I’d found her on the cliffs, I nearly wilted with relief.
“Your man, Devin? Devin Franklin?”
She scoffs, standing only in her light blue panties that complemented her blue sweater. There’s a wet spot that outlines every delicious curve of her lips. It takes every ounce of my self-control to keep from pushing her to the bed so I can feast.
“He’s not my man,” she’s saying, but I’m still talking.
“He followed us here.”
“He… what?” The last is said with a growl.
“I noticed the tail when we left the airport. Thought it was a coincidence until it stuck close until we reached the cottage. I left this morning to see if they’d stayed overnight and if they’d follow me out.
They did.” I keep going, mostly because she’s so shocked she’s standing there, tits out, and I get to look my fill.
It makes admitting my mistakes a little easier.
“He walked right up to me at a pub in town. Admitted your father told him to come, to stop you from asking about your mother.” I manage to tear my gaze from her body. “Want to tell me what that’s about?”
“Why should I?” she challenges, lifting her chin. Defiant. Fuck. I’ve never seen anyone so strong and sexy. This woman hasn’t given me an inch since the day I met her. She’s fought for everything she’s wanted, no matter the cost. Is it any surprise I’m obsessed with her?
But I know if I force her, if I move too fast, she’ll balk, like a colt. She’s brave and determined, but she’s also guarded. And so fucking stubborn. I want her to come to me more than I want to break her again.
“Because he didn’t come alone, someone was with him.”
She studies the dress and the lingerie laid out on the bed.
Mara chose them for me, knowing what would be required, and sent it along before we’d flown out.
She’d also helped me pack a bag for the short overnight stay.
The dress is another in white, this one simple silk with thin shoulder straps.
The lingerie is nude and designed to be practically invisible underneath.
I’m already seething at the thought of Cian’s eyes roving over her, drinking in her bare skin.
It will be a monumental test of my self-control to make it until morning without putting a knife in his gut or a bullet in his brain.
Over the years, I’ve fantasized a thousand different ways for him to die and, despite my extensive education in murder, I’ve never settled on a favorite.
Her feet pad lightly against the wood floors as she crosses the room until she’s standing in front of me. Her nipples are nearly eye level. The mattress strains under my grip.
“What happened next? How did he hurt you?” Against my command, my body sways toward her like I’m a plant and she’s the sun. I nuzzle between her breasts, hands going to her hips to tug her against me. The scent of her arousal teases my nose.
“I’ll tell you if you tell me why you keep asking him about your mother.” I give in, kissing the soft, creamy skin and feel her breath catch under my lips. “What is it you think you’re going to find?”
She tries to hedge, moving away from me, but I catch her by the hips so she can’t move an inch.
Her glare doesn’t deter me, and I hold her there until she bites her lip and shifts from foot to foot.
Either she can start to trust me—even if I don’t deserve it—or we can keep this dance of blades until one of us falters.
I have time, either way.
My fingers tighten on her skin, and I force myself to gentle. I won’t push her in this. No, I want her to come to me. To give this piece to me.
“I’ve been looking—” She pauses, gulps, then takes a deep breath. “I’ve been looking into my mother’s death. I know it wasn’t an accident.”
That’s my girl. “And you think Devin had something to do with it?”
Her lips twist. “Broussard, he’s not my adviser.”
“He’s not,” I say with deadly calm.
“He’s a private investigator.”
“A private investigator.”
“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?” She tries to put her hands on her hips and realizes I’m still holding her, then crosses her arms over her tits. I frown at their loss. “We have reason to believe Devin was present the night she died and lied about it, among other things.”
“I knew I was right when I put a tracker in your ring. Devin probably followed you straight to him the day he was shot.”
“You put a tracker in my ring?” she shrieks. “When?”
“You’re damn fucking right, I did. The day after they put him into the hospital. And apparently for good reason. Running off, putting yourself into trouble. It’s a full-time job just keeping you alive.”
“There are so many things wrong with what you just said, I don’t know where to start.”
Before she can work herself into a lather, I distract her with, “What would his motive be?”
She sends me a scathing look when she’s unable to jerk free of my grasp. If she’s not careful, she’s going to wind up with bruises peppering her thighs.
It sidetracks me for a moment of blazing-hot need.
Catriona has a body that’s stolen so many hours of sleep, I’d wondered if I could die from it.
Unique in every aspect, her curves, freckles, dimples, and skin are so soft, all I could think about is seeing it blushing red and bruised from my punishing hands.
Because oh, how I wanted to see her painted in my marks. Mottled with my whorls and loops. Necklaces and bracelets gifted on her skin, semi-permanent, tender and aching. A reminder for the next time she tries to sneak away from me like she did that night.
“I don’t know, that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out with Broussard,” she says, when I’m able to focus on her. “I found my mother’s phone at the estate during Halloween and—”
“You sneaky little witch. That’s why you were there that night? I could have killed you when I found you.”
“I didn’t have another choice. There were no other leads. The police were stonewalling me. My father wouldn’t hear anything I had to say, and Elizabeth pretends it never happened. What else did you expect me to do?”
“Stop risking your life, for one.”
She waves this away. “I knew it was the last place her phone could be, and I was right. I found it. Broussard has been helping me go through it to find leads.”
“I’m sure.” I’m not jealous of an ancient old man. I’m not.
Catriona levels a look at me, and I don’t know if she realizes it, but she’s shifted closer. Her nipples are close enough that I could wrap my lips around one. “Now tell me what happened. Did he go home?”
No man could withstand these circumstances.
With a hand on her spine, I pull her forward, take one nipple between my teeth, groaning as fire shoots through me.
I lave her nipple with gentle flicks, teasing with my teeth, until she knots her fingers in my hair and exerts inexorable pressure until I release her so I don’t cause her harm.
She tilts my head back. “Don’t distract me, Aiden O’Connor. Be a good husband and tell me what happened.”
Fuck. She ruins me.
I crack a smile. “Husband. I like it when you call me that.” Her fingers twist, and I wince. “Fuck, fine, woman. I had him out back with a gun to his head when someone came out of nowhere with the knife. I got knocked into the wall and passed out. They were gone by the time I woke up.”
The fingers in my hair go slack. “They could have killed you. You were passed out with no one there to protect you, and they could have fucking killed you. You go on and on about me having bodyguards and threatening to put a tracker on me, yet you walk around with all these people after you.”
I wince. “It turned out alright.”