Chapter 19
DOMINIC
Rory is still scouring the streets for his runaway bride.
No one, bar my brothers and staff, knows where Aoife O’Shea is, or why.
Everyone knows I have a woman. It’s the talk of The Syndicate.
But no one can know about the wedding. Not yet.
Because Mama K will insist we run it by Frankie.
I’ve been dodging her calls all week because even though Aoife is softening around me, she’s still nowhere near ready for that interrogation.
Since the kitchen incident, I’ve tried not to flirt with her. Not to terrify her. To remind myself that her being in my house is for her protection. Not my sexual perversions.
But there’s no denying that with every passing day I’m becoming increasingly infatuated with my fiancée. I find myself making excuses to leave work, to watch her make dinner, to steal an extra hour or minute with her any damn time I can.
Tonight, when I finally get home, Aoife is in the kitchen, preparing dinner.
She spends hours poring over recipes and meal planning.
Tonight, the scent of garlic and thyme wafts through the air as I stride towards her.
Her glossy blonde hair is pinned up on top of her head, and she’s wearing a pale yellow dress that showcases her tanned shoulders.
Her back is to me as she works, humming along enthusiastically to a song playing on the radio.
I recognise the music. It’s an Irish band called Amber.
And if the uninhibited shimmying of her ass is anything to go by, Aoife is a huge fan.
I love how comfortable she is in my kitchen. It’s like she’s lived here for years instead of weeks. I love coming home to her. To this domestic bliss.
But there’s an end date on this.
And already, a house without Aoife in it seems bereft.
I shrug off my suit jacket. ‘Evening.’
‘Hi.’ She spins to face me.
I dump my jacket on the back of one of the stools at the island and make my way to the fridge, fill two glasses, and peer over her shoulder. The scent of her perfume steals into my senses. It takes every bit of willpower I possess not to sink my lips against her neck.
‘Steaks?’ I eye the food in the pan.
‘Yes, I hope you like them.’ She bites her lip with a perfect blend of vulnerability and determination.
‘I’m sure they’ll be gorgeous.’ Everything she makes is. ‘You don’t have to cook for me every night.’ I pass her the wine. Our fingers touch, and that familiar energy crackles between us.
‘I like cooking for you,’ she admits. ‘Besides, it’s not like I’ve got much else to do.’ She shrugs and offers me a small smile.
‘That’s about to change.’
Her eyes snap to mine. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Your job at Fernbank. You start at the end of August.’
‘I do?’ She squeals, throws her arms around and squeezes me.
I stiffen—everywhere—then smooth my palm over the length of her spine. She startles, jumping back, clutching her chest. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be,’ my lips split open in a small smile as I rest my backside on the kitchen counter beside the cooker. She’s relaxed around me since our conversation the other night. The stolen glances she fires my way no longer alternate between looking like she wants to fight me or fuck me.
No, now she simply looks at me with a combination of curiosity and longing.
‘How did you swing that?’ She stares at me in open wonder.
‘I made a phone call to the principal. Her husband served time with Ciaran a few years ago.’
‘No way.’ Her tone is incredulous.
I huff out a breath. ‘She assured me that if I made a hefty and public donation to the school, your new surname wouldn’t be a problem. They’ll take all the help they can get.’
‘Really?’ She beams at me, and it stirs something in my sternum—something warm and gratifying.
It hits me then, just how much I want to make her happy.
I want her to beam at me like that every damn day.
Like I hung the fucking moon. And not just because I want to get into her lingerie again, which I absolutely do, but because when she smiles at me like that she makes me feel something that I haven’t felt in a long time, she makes me feel like I’m a good person.
I’m not.
And I don’t pretend to be.
I’ve accepted that I’m going straight to hell. But when those big blue eyes bore into mine, for a while… I forget all the horror I’ve seen and done. I forget there’s anything else in the world but her and me.
‘You’ll have to take security until our mutual friend has been dealt with. But they’ll wait discreetly in the car park and escort you to and from the premises—if that’s what you still want.’
‘It is. More than anything.’ Her irises flare like she just thought of something else she might like more.
She only has to say the word. I’m biding my time because I can’t have her freaking out on me again, but make no mistake, I want her. And I will have her—but only when she’s ready.
‘I told you, you don’t need to work while you’re with me, but I’ll never take your independence.’ I swirl the wine in my glass. ‘Not when you fought so hard to gain it.’
Her eyes well and for an awful second, I think she might cry, but no, it’s worse. She reaches out and touches my torso, and the way it makes my chest ache, she may as well have torn it right out of my ribcage.
‘Thank you,’ she whispers, tearing her fingers away, turning her attention back to the food.
‘It must be hard for you, being cooped up here all day.’ I mutter gruffly. She’s barely left the house since she got here.
‘It couldn’t be any easier. I feel guilty for doing nothing.
’ She shakes her head with a sad little sigh.
‘I’ve never had time to read or relax. My entire existence has been a whirlwind.
An uphill battle. This is the first time in my adult life that someone hit the pause button.
It’s disturbing how quickly I’ve adapted. ’
‘I’m glad. I know you wouldn’t have chosen this, but it will solve our mutual problem. How are the wedding plans coming along?’
‘Everything is in order.’ She nods.
‘I’ve given the list of guests to the wedding planner. Is there anyone you want to invite?’ I know she doesn’t have any living family other than her father, but surely there’s someone who would show up simply for her?
‘There’s only one.’ She shrugs. ‘Abby, my friend.’
‘The friend you still haven’t called yet…’ I arch an eyebrow but don’t push her for a reason. ‘The invites will go out at very short notice. It won’t give people a lot of time, but that’s the whole point.’
‘Will he know?’
I don’t need to ask who he is. ‘No. I specifically asked the wedding planner to keep them vague. Dominic and Aoife cordially invite you to their wedding, etc.’
Relief inches over her features. ‘You’re sure The Shelbourne is safe? I mean, it’s a complete fuck-you, right?’
‘That’s the whole point, sweetheart.’ I grin at her.
‘And you’re always safe when you’re with me, remember.
’ Instinctively, I touch her arm, and that same fizzing sensation shoots up my fingers.
I drag them from her and shove my hand in my trouser pocket.
‘I checked the credit card on the banking app. You didn’t book a honeymoon. ’
‘It felt… wrong.’ She admits, twisting her lips.
‘Why?’
‘It seems like a waste when the whole thing is a farce.’ She motions to the clothes she’s wearing. ‘Plus, you’ve already spent so much.’
What’s not a farce is how much I want to kiss her again. To taste her. To touch her. To make her mine, properly mine.
‘You’re about to become a Kincaid, in front of my entire family, friends, and acquaintances.
We’re going to have to convince them that this is real between us, if you want the protection of The Syndicate.
That includes going on honeymoon. Besides, when the news breaks, it’ll be safer if we’re out of the city. ’
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. ‘I don’t have my passport.’
‘I do.’ I take another drink. ‘Cathal went to your house right after I brought you here.’
‘You’ve thought of everything.’ She smooths a hand over her dress, and my eyes are drawn to the womanly curves of her body.
‘I’ve thought of lots of things.’
Her eyes swim with heat and hunger. She knows exactly what I’m referring to. That adorable blush creeping into her cheeks again proves it.
‘I’m taking you away for a couple of weeks until the dust settles. It’s non-negotiable. Leave it to me. I’ll surprise you.’
‘You already are,’ she says quietly.
I push myself off the counter, while I still can, because while she’s looking at me like that, I can’t stop fantasising about all the other ways I’d like to surprise her—naked.
I stalk out before I do something stupid like pin her down and fuck her into next week.