Chapter Eleven
LIAM
It’s nearly three in the afternoon before Maggie wakes up, wearing one of my mother’s sundresses and rubbing at her eyes as she walks into the living room.
“Hello, sleeping beauty.” There’s not much of an edge to my voice, not like I intended, and one of the reasons there’s not is because she is beautiful, even barefaced.
Her hazel eyes sparkle, even in this situation, and her mouth is this natural shade of pink that makes me wonder if her nipples match.
I’ve got to call some of my backups. It’s been weeks since I’ve had a woman, and that has to be why I’m staring at Maggie the way I am.
“Have you decided if you’re going to kill me?” she asks, but she doesn’t seem afraid, just... curious.
“I told you I wouldn’t harm you.”
“You also said I couldn’t trust you.”
“Touché.” I stand up, brandishing my cup of coffee at her. “Want a cup?”
“Please.”
“Let me guess, lots of cream and sugar.”
She shakes her head. “Just one cream. No sugar.”
I raise an eyebrow but make it for her, sliding it across the table.
She catches it, looking up at me with curiosity instead of fear again. “So, you and Cillian grew up here.”
“In a manner of speaking."
“What is that supposed to mean? Next you’re going to tell me you were never a kid, just sprang fully formed from your father’s head.”
“Like Athena.”
She blinks at me, clearly surprised. “I wouldn’t expect you to know Greek mythology.”
I snort. “What, you think I’m some kind of moron? You don’t become CEO of a business by being dumb and not reading.”
“I guess I didn’t expect a mobster to be well-read.”
“You think I wanted to be a mobster?” I scoff, pouring myself more coffee. I’ve already had too much, my leg jiggling under the table, but I’ve got to stay alert.
I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her, especially now that she’s got Dare wrapped around her little finger.
She frowns. “You didn’t want to be in this life?”
“What I want is irrelevant. I was born into it. It’s not really something you can decline.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“You're an heiress, right? At least, that’s your cover story.”
She freezes. “Cover story?”
I wave my hand dismissively. “You know. The whole Isla thing.”
“Oh. Well, I mean, yeah, it was a cover story, but not because I’m Maggie.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
She huffs out a breath, sitting down at the table. “Why should I? Why should I tell you the truth about who I am when you have me here as prisoner?”
“I mean, I could get it out of you.”
She swallows hard, keeping eye contact while sipping her coffee. “Would you really torture me?”
I stare at her for a long moment, and she stares back.
I finally shake my head. “No. None of us wanted to do this.”
“That’s what Dare said.”
“Guess you got to know him pretty well. Biblically.”
She flushes. “That’s none of your business.”
“I’d say it is my business. Dare is my best friend.”
“I thought Cillian was your best friend.”
“Cillian is my brother. Dare is my best friend.”
She holds out her hands. “Sorry, I got it wrong. Not like you guys really introduced yourselves or anything.”
I sigh, leaning forward and sticking my hand out. “I’m Liam Hayes.”
“Isla. Waters.” She shakes my hand with a firm grip.
I just know she’s lying. Every time her lips are moving.
Even the last name sounds like she made it up on a whim.
But that first name, Isla...
“Where are your parents from?”
She pauses and then sips her coffee again. “My mother is from Jersey. My father is a first-generation Irish immigrant.”
With a surname like Waters? Unlikely.
“Is that why you don’t blink when Dare calls you a ghrá?”
She flushes again. “My father sometimes used Gaelic around me, so yeah, I know the term. It means—”
“Love.”
Maggie looks up at me for a long moment, then looks away. “I think I’m going to go back to my room unless you plan on feeding me any time soon. I’m starving.”
Food. Shit.
I forgot that she’s going to eventually need to eat, and it’s been a whole day since we took her. She must be hungry.
“I’ll cook something.”
I keep the house stocked in case we ever have to use it as a safe house. I’ve honestly thought about expanding the place; it sits on five acres, and I could build a mansion where this house stands.
But in the end, I can’t bear to take down my mother’s doodads, her fairy lights. I can’t bring myself to bulldoze the only place I’ve ever had a mother.
“You know how to cook?”
I smirk. “I know more than you think.”
“That much is becoming clear.”
I head to the fridge, quickly taking out the ingredients for breakfast: French toast, eggs, bacon. By the time I’m finished, Maggie is nearly drooling, staring at me from the kitchen table.
“I take it you’re not a cook."
“Far from it.” She takes the plate from me and digs in with a gusto I would have thought the Marine Corps has when eating.
I fight a smile as she digs into the bacon, nearly growling in the back of her throat.
“I guess it’s good I can cook. You might have eaten me if I didn’t make you something.”
“Oh, you would be so lucky.”
I lick my lips, watching her eat before digging in myself.
It’s good, if I do say so myself, the French toast spongy and sweet with powdered sugar, eggs fluffy, bacon salty.
She clears her plate and a second one, and finally sits back from the table, putting a hand on her belly.
“That was honestly so good, but I’m not sure if it’s because you’re a good cook or I just haven’t eaten in too long.”
“Fair enough.” I start loading the dishwasher, and as I’m doing so, something crashes behind me.
I calmly put down the pan I’m washing and turn around to see Maggie’s ass wiggling at me from the small kitchen window.
I almost bark out a laugh but manage to keep it in, watching her struggle to get out the window.
I walk out the back door, around to the side to see her struggling there, her face flushed as she tries to maneuver her way out.
“You can’t fit.”
“Are you seriously calling me fat right now? This is your fault. If I hadn’t eaten all that French toast...”
“I don’t think a few pieces of French toast made you get stuck. I don’t think any human can get through that window. Besides, wide hips are a sign of fertility.”
“Great. Perfect information to have right now.” She huffs. “Get me out!”
I can’t help but start to laugh.
She pouts at me, glaring with those hazel eyes with the green flecks that keep showing up in my dreams.
“I'll get you out if you promise to be good.”
She snorts. “Fat chance.”
I cross my arms over my chest, not willing to play her games. “Then I guess you’ll just be stuck there forever.”
Maggie wiggles, whining, her face flushed. Finally, as I watch her with mild amusement, she deflates, stopping and hanging in the window.
“Okay. I’ll be good.”
“Good girl.”
Something flashes across her face, but not fast enough that I don’t recognize it for what it is... lust.
I have to admit, that intrigues me. But I will not do anything about it. This woman is a liar and a traitor, and even more dangerous than I thought if she can have us all lusting for her.
But still, I have to unstuck her, I guess, regardless of how much fun it is having her just hanging there. “All right, hold your horses.”
I walk back inside and put both hands on her hips, trying not to look up her skirt. It’s all I need, to pop a boner while I’m pulling her out of this window. That’ll really put the fear of God into her.
She groans. “Hurry up and tug, all the blood is rushing to my head.”
“Should have thought about that before you tried to escape in the dumbest way possible,” I grunt, tugging her.
She pops free after a little resistance, and I almost fall over before righting her.
Her ass presses against me, her back arched, and my dick wants to stand at attention.
“Let me go,” she whispers, but it sounds weak to my ears.
She wants this. She wants me to harden against her. She wants to manipulate me into sleeping with her, just like she did Dare.
“Should I? What if you try to escape again?”
She wiggles, and I hold her tighter against me, locking my arm around her waist.
“Liam, let me go.” She wrenches away from me, and I clear my throat, my ears burning hot.
“Maybe it’s best you do go to your room.”
“Yeah.” She huffs again as she walks into her room, and I lock the door as she shuts it.
What the hell was I thinking? I can’t let her get to me the way she got to Dare. Even if she does have the most remarkable eyes. And an ass I’d just love to spank red.