Chapter 26
Sean
As the SUV barrels down the road, Mace and I face the rear window, weapons ready.
After a few miles of no action, Dante glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Any sign of them?”
Before I can answer, Daed barges in over the comms, “Drones confirm. No sign of pursuit.”
Holy shit, that was close.
Waiting for the surge of adrenaline to burn off, I hold the shaking Lillian against my chest. With her tucked close, I replay the events of the evening.
How was our cover blown? “Babe?” I wait for her gaze to lift to mine. “Who was the Irishman?”
Lil squirms, tugging her dress over her knees. “James Fitzpatrick, longtime family friend. He mentioned my father’s location. I flinched.”
“Where?” Dread fills my lungs. “Where is he?”
“Here, in Dublin.” She bites her lower lip. “I could’ve gotten us killed.”
“On it.” Daed goes to work, no doubt verifying Liam Boyle’s location. “By the way,” he adds, “Parkhaven investors are pulling their money. Nothing like gunfire to scare off potential partners.”
So, in a half-assed way, mission accomplished—except… no. Something is off. “What about the millions targeted for Rehabo?”
“Gone. I’ll let you know when I find Boyle. Daed out.”
While our resident geek does his research, I search for the piece of the night’s adventure that doesn’t fit.
Then it hits me.
A chill crawls up my spine as I catch Lil’s eye. “Did you notice Pearson’s smile as the guns came out?”
She nods. “And why allow weapons inside the party? Makes no sense.”
Silence settles over the team until Daedalus returns to our comms. “Nothing on Boyle.”
Frowning, Lilly catches my gaze. “Not surprised. Private jet. A fake passport. An LLC to book his stay. My father’s used the same playbook for years. Fitzpatrick’s reaction is all the proof I need. He’s here, and he’s coming for me.”
When she shudders, I cup her cheeks, making sure she sees the determination in my face. “This is the break we’ve been waiting for.”
Her brows furrow, lips pursing. “If we can locate him, sure.”
That’s my girl.
“There can’t be many places that cater to a man of his tastes. Share your intel with Daed. I trust you will find him.”
While they search pricey rentals and hotels, Mace turns in his seat. “Why is Liam so keen on Lillian? Why not her siblings?”
I scoot forward so he can hear me over the Land Rover’s engine. “He wants an heir. Only Lilly is his.”
“And Becca? Why keep her around?”
Ah, so that’s what this is about. The man’s got it bad.
“Leverage.” I scratch the growth on my chin. “To keep Lillian in line.”
While I speak, shards of memories from the jungle resurface from somewhere deep in my subconscious. Me on a motorbike. Lillian glued to my back. Fierce dogs snapping at our heels. An airstrip. A helicopter. An escape worthy of a blockbuster movie.
Too many. Usually, I can keep them buried, but tonight, probably due to the stress, they break free.
Still talking, Mace waves a hand in front of my face. “Bro, you with me?”
“Yup. When we find Boyle, he’s mine.” Last time, I let him slip away. Won’t happen again.
Lil, listening in, pauses her conversation long enough to punch my arm. Hard. “There are laws, Rambo.”
She tilts her head, like I’m going to agree, but I won’t. Liam has the resources to flee the country before the ink dries on a warrant.
No doubt sensing I’m about to say something stupid, Dante intervenes. “Give it a rest, Clark.”
“Good copy.” Hand inside my suit jacket, I sleep lightly, never fully surrendering.
About an hour later, the vehicle bounces over ruts in a dirt road. In front of us, a cottage, probably medieval. No hedges. No trees. Sheep. Long, rolling hills. Dogs. No chance in hell anyone rolls up without us knowing.
Impressed by his choice, I tap Dante’s shoulder. “Going old school, pal?”
He chuckles in the mirror. “Except for the cameras, motion detectors, and a drone. Got a team out there, too.”
Lillian, head on my lap, stirs when the motor stops. “Are we safe?” Her lashes lift, eyes latching onto mine.
“Yeah. For now.” My throat tightens. Sucks she has to ask.
While we wait, armed men pile from the lead Range Rover. Once they clear the building, they allow us inside.
Open space. Fireplace. Modern kitchen. Medieval arrow slits covered in glass. Hallway. A couple of doors, probably bedroom-bath combo. Couch. Dining table. Chairs.
Not much to trip over if a fast exit is required.
Coming up behind me, Dante claps me on the shoulder. “I’m taking first watch. You two get some sleep. Save the fucking for home.”
I toss him a middle finger. “Says the single man who hasn’t had sex for a decade.”
“You two are the worst.” Inside the bedroom, still chuckling, she removes the mic from her chest, followed by the tiny speaker in her ear. Then she’s the one who presses me against the wall. “How about some post-traumatic-stress sex, Mr. Balls?”
“PTSS? Is that even a thing?” Smiling, I remove her ruined dress. As it drops to the floor, my throat dries at the sight of her mouthwatering, naked body. “No underwear? All night?”
She unstraps a knife from her inner thigh. “Panty lines. Can’t have that.”
“Copy.” My cock has officially taken charge of this evening’s agenda. Shrugging off my clothes, my gaze drops to her scratched legs and muddy feet. “When did you lose your shoes?”
“Not just any shoes. Jimmy Choos. I was hoping to keep them.” She slides aside a transparent rice-paper screen, revealing a claw-foot antique tub, sized for two. “Whoa. Check this out.”
“Excellent idea.” I lift her in, running warm water until she’s covered. “Let’s see those feet.”
Once I’m sure they have only a few scratches, I remove my comms, then slip in behind her. Soap in hand, I slide it over her body. Her nipples harden as I pay them extra attention. Resting back, she groans, lifts her legs, and dangles her heels outside the tub.
Knees wide, she moves my fingers down her torso, past her belly button, to her slick need.
When I glide the bar over her clit, she lifts her ass and moans, “Mmm. Feels so good.”
My fucking heart thumps like crazy. “You are so beautiful, babe.”
“More.” Her eyes squeeze shut.
“Not yet.” Picturing water sloshing all over the wood floor, I pick her up, dry her off, and rush her to the bed.
Hips high, on all fours, she peers over her shoulder as I enter her tight sheath. Damn, the first squeeze almost sets me off. With an index finger on her nub, I thrust repeatedly.
As we gather speed, the entire world disappears.
She bucks. I drive.
Skin slaps skin.
“Sean!” The suddenness of her orgasm thrills me.
My balls swell, my center coils. Gasping, I blast inside her, fucking rainbows and unicorns filling my head.
I may be dead, but what a way to go.