“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” LeeAnn’s stomach churned as she stepped into the exclusive club her friend—and the only person who could ever get her into so much trouble—had bullied her into going to. Her father had expressly forbidden her to go to this place, saying it was a hotbed of “illicit activities.” Whatever that meant. The last thing she wanted to do was disobey her father, so the fact that Benita had gotten her to go to this particular bar was a testament to the fact that LeeAnn was a complete pushover.
“Irish has the hottest guys in Boston! Everyone comes here. How could you not want to be here?”
“Dad says the place is full of unsavory characters.”
“Honey, your dad is an unsavory character his own damned self. Did you ever stop to think that maybe he’s just as bad as his rivals?”
LeeAnn crossed her hands over her chest. “You’re talking about my stepfather, Benita. He’s been really good to me. When Mom died, he could have turned me over to social services. Instead, he raised me like his own.”
Her mother had married Bart Holten when LeeAnn was only three years old. When she’d shown academic potential at even that early age, he’d taken her to special teachers and schools, making sure her mind was stimulated. Though he hadn’t given his wife’s daughter his name, he had taken care of LeeAnn, providing her with anything she’d ever wanted, including the best education and opportunities money could buy. Now, she had a full academic scholarship to MIT. Though she’d done that by virtue of her own hard work, she was always ready to point out that it had all been possible because of Bartholomew Holten.
“He may have questionable business practices, but he’s done right by me.”
“Questionable? You’ve got to be the most naive person I’ve ever met. LeeAnn, do you have any idea—” Benita stopped mid sentence, holding up her hand. “Forget it. Look, go get a drink. Hang out at the bar. Find a hunk to bone tonight. You need it worse than any woman I’ve ever met.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” LeeAnn put her hands on her hips, outrage warring with a bubbly laughter she wasn’t sure she could contain.
“It means you’re wearing a big ole neon sign around your neck that says ‘starving for it.’ Girl, you need to get laid in the worst way.”
With a sigh, LeeAnn answered, “Well, I guess I can’t argue with you there. It’s been a while.”
“A while? Have you even been near a guy since we graduated high school? You’ve thrown yourself into academics. You deal in logic and sciencey shit, LeeAnn. Have you ever thought about trying to let up a little? Get in touch with your feminine side? Or, hey, here’s an idea! How about just finding a cute guy and fucking his brains out!”
LeeAnn couldn’t help herself. Laughter overflowed inside her like champagne bubbles. “You’re too outrageous for words. I can’t promise I’ll get laid tonight. But I do promise to have a good time. How about that?”
With a disheartened sigh, as if she had expected LeeAnn to simply strip down, jump up on a table and shout,
I’m ready to fuck! Who wants first dibs?
“I suppose that will have to do, though you’re probably working on some complicated math shit on a napkin. Go get a drink and loosen up. I see someone I need to talk to.” With a grin, she added, “Won’t take a minute.”
With a sigh, a smile still on her face, LeeAnn sidled up to the bar. Instead of ordering a drink, she turned to face the crowd. Leaning one elbow on the pristine surface, LeeAnn watched everyone around her. The place was so crowded she couldn’t see how people moved, let alone mingled.
Laughter carried through the place and LeeAnn couldn’t help but smile. Despite any misgivings she’d had about coming here, she was glad she had. A night out with her bestie was exactly what she needed.
“Mind if I join you?”
The deep, gruff, masculine voice sent shivers down her neck. LeeAnn turned to find a very large, very intimidating man, who was even now taking a seat next to her. His dark auburn hair was cut close at the neck, leaving a longer mass up top. The shining locks seemed to beckon her fingers under the dim lights. His intense green eyes wanted to snare her attention, making her drown in their depths. He wasn’t what she’d call handsome. His face had too much of a hard, sinister look for that. But he was striking in a dangerous, don’t-fuck-with-me kind of way. He was exactly the kind of man she’d always been drawn to. The kind of man she needed to stay away from.
Signaling the bartender, he ordered two shots. She had no idea of what, though he looked like he expected her to take one.
“Sorry. Hard Liquor and I aren’t very well acquainted.” She gave him a smile. “I’m actually just waiting for my friend to come back.”
“I see.” He gave her a mocking half grin. “Was your friend a slender little dark-haired Hispanic in a red leather fuck-me mini skirt with a ruby belly ring in the shape of a heart?”
A sinking suspicion weighed on LeeAnn. While a few women might match the vague description of Benita, she doubted all of them wore a belly ring like the one Betina did. With a sigh, she said, “Yes. That sounds like her.”
“Well, she left you and went straight to one of my…associates. They left soon after.” He gave her what she supposed passed for a grin but was more a sinister smirk. “Looks like you’re all alone.”
She lifted her chin. “Perhaps. Doesn’t mean I need company. I’ve been doing fine by myself.”
The muscles in his jaw bunched as if he were frustrated. LeeAnn figured he probably wasn’t used to women turning him down. Had he not been so intimidating, she might not have. Unfortunately, she wasn’t all that brave or adventurous. He was way too much man for her to handle and she wasn’t afraid to admit it.
As quickly as his ire appeared, it vanished. Cocky grin in place, he held up his hands in surrender. “She wounds me. If I can’t convince you to spend the evening with me, at least have one drink and a dance with me. Surely you can spare me that much attention?”
It went against her better judgment, but if it would get him to leave her alone then she’d do it. “One drink.”
His grin deepened into a satisfied smirk. “Lady’s choice.” He signaled the bartender.
LeeAnn tried to think of something she could down quickly and get this over with. Her usual Captain and Coke would be too much volume. A shot of whiskey would be too much burn. “A…shot of peach Schnapps?”
The bartender nodded, turning to get her order. LeeAnn looked back at the crowd, wanting to be away from the intense male beside her. God, she wished she were braver! By the wicked gleam in his eyes, LeeAnn knew he’d be able to show her a few carnal delights she’d never even dreamed of. And she’d dreamed of quite a lot. When he gave her that grin—the one she was sure had landed many women in his bed—she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like. What did he know that she didn’t?
“Enjoy,” the bartender said with a smile as he placed the shot glass in front of her while handing the man what she presumed was his whiskey.
He raised his glass to her, nodding to her own. LeeAnn took hers, sipped from it. When he held her gaze and downed his drink, she did the same. The sweet liquor burned with a slightly bitter tang but she only grimaced a little.
“Come on,” he growled, taking her hand and pulling her into a corner. The music played, but he didn’t move to the beat, instead pulling her close. His warm, masculine scent enveloped her the same as his strong arms. Through his leather jacket, she felt the powerful muscles of his biceps. For some reason, his warmth and strength made her feel safe, like she was wrapped in a fuzzy blanket of protection. As they swayed back and forth, not really dancing, she found her head spinning slightly from the alcohol.
Except she hadn’t really drunk that much. LeeAnn stiffened, trying to bring herself out of the slight buzz she was feeling. The second she quit being receptive, he started moving her through the bar. Oh God!
“Did you…drug me?” The bartender must have put something in her drink. LeeAnn’s mind tried to skitter to that panicked state where she could fight her way free, or at least make enough of a scene to draw people to her, but she couldn’t seem to get her mind and body to work in tandem. She found herself going with him as he easily led her from the main bar out the back, one arm securely around her as if they were just another couple.
“Yes.” His only response. No explanation. No regret.
“Who are you?” Her heart was pounding, her mind unable to process everything, the dissociation frightening as it built. “What are you going to do to me?”
He put her in his car, fastening her seatbelt before he got in and started the engine. “My name is Fionn O’Shea, and I have no intention of hurting you. The easiest thing for you would be to simply close your eyes and sleep this off.”
O’Shea!
“No! Oh God, no!” Hadn’t her father warned her about this very family? Wasn’t this why she hadn’t been supposed to go to Irish in the first place?
“I’m afraid so. Your father has pissed in the wrong bowl of cornflakes and I’m sorry to say you’re the collateral damage.”
For the first time in his brutal life, Fionn found himself warring with his conscience. The small, curvy woman in the car next to him looked so frightened and confused it made his chest ache. From the second her friend, Benita, had pointed him in her direction, Fionn had been snared.
After leaving his home three days earlier, he’d staked out her home, done some research on her. The woman was about as disconnected to her father’s activities as a person could be. Stupid or willfully ignorant he’d have to see, but considering she was a graduate student at MIT, he didn’t think she was stupid. Naive maybe, but not completely stupid.
As he looked at her, all eyes and fear in the seat next to him, that stupid pang speared his chest again. Why did it bother him that she was so obviously frightened? He’d seen that look a thousand times over the years and had taken nothing but grim satisfaction. If that. Most times, he didn’t feel anything. It was all part of the job.
Now, he felt the need to soothe her, to let her know he wouldn’t hurt her. The dark-skinned beauty was something out of a dream to him. She looked and acted so completely innocent, right down to knowing she couldn’t take the whiskey. Shannon had specifically said he shouldn’t hurt the girl. But what did he do with her?
Instantly images of the encounter with the two call girls filled his head. Only this time, there was only one. And she had dark skin, dark hair, and mouthwatering curves, looking suspiciously like the woman sitting next to him. Lust hit him low and mean like a punch to his gut, harder than anything he’d felt in living memory. Instantly he was hard, straining for her.
Taking slow, deep breaths for control, Fionn tried to analyze his reaction. Yeah, for some reason he was attracted to her. Unnaturally so. Maybe it was her air of innocence, or the fact that she hadn’t readily fallen into his arms. All he knew was there was no way he was harming her. No matter what. At least, not right away. And not unless she begged him to.
It was good she didn’t readily succumb to his charms since she was a means to an end for him and his brothers. If it proved, as Fionn expected, that Paddy O’Shea was behind this power play—for whatever reason—then using this girl might be the only way of getting her father to admit to the old man’s involvement. Of course, if she fell for him, she might more readily aid him.
Fionn narrowed his eyes as he sped down the highway. What if he could seduce her into helping them? She would ultimately pay the price, but then, she was already caught in the middle of this tangled web just by being her father’s daughter. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. The more his cock liked the idea. The only question was, could he make her want him enough for her to help him nail her father?
Once he’d seized on the idea of having her, Fionn found he would settle for nothing less. The curvy little beauty next to him was his. Whether she wanted to be or not.
She was still in a wide-eyed trance when he pulled into his garage, closing up and setting the alarm. The sight pained him, but he ignored it. Just like he ignored everything in life he didn’t want to acknowledge. Just like he’d done throughout most of his childhood. As he lifted her from the car, she whimpered, obviously unable to do anything else.
“Relax, little love.” He used his best soothing voice. Funny. He’d only ever used it to calm people before he killed them; now he was using it to attempt to truly allay her fears? Not that she was buying it.
“What’er you gonna do to me?” she slurred, the ketamine swallowing her.
“Nothing,” he said, truthfully. “I’m only going to put you to bed so you can sleep this off. Nothing more.”
She closed her eyes before lifting them again. It looked as if the effort took all her strength. “Don’t…believe…you.”
“Then you’ll be pleasantly surprised when you wake unharmed and untouched.” It baffled Fionn that he felt the need to reassure her even though he truly hadn’t decided what he was going to do with—or to—her yet. All he knew was, the instant the words left his mouth, he knew he meant them. The only question was how could he get rid of her father and keep the woman at the same time? His brothers weren’t going to like this, but Fionn knew they’d accept it. What one wanted, the others provided.
Fionn needed to call Shannon and let him know it was done, but he knew LeeAnn wouldn’t truly go under until he got her someplace quiet and dark where her mind would be lulled into oblivion. That thought made him scowl. Why, after all these years, was he suddenly going soft? And over a woman? No. Women catered to him, not the other way around.
With an angry snarl, he snapped, “Call Shannon,” at the car, grappling for control of himself for the first time since he was a boy.
“That didn’t take long,” his brother said by way of greeting.
“I’m nothing if not efficient. I’ll hold her until you tell me different.”
There was a pause. “You all right, Fionn? You sound…stressed.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Fionn sighed. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“You sure? If there’s something going on, I can handle this.”
“No. I’ve got it. Though, babysitting a spoiled little rich girl will seriously try my patience.”
“No doubt. I’ll be in touch. Just keep her out of sight for a couple of days.”
Oh, he’d keep her out of sight, all right. Unless he changed his mind when she woke, Fionn would keep her tied to his bed. That’d definitely keep her out of sight.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into his garage. LeeAnn struggled in and out of consciousness, but refused to go under and stay there. She was a fighter—he’d give her that.
Scooping her up into his arms, Fionn took her inside and straight to his bed. Once there he had a moment to wonder why he’d taken her to his bed instead of one of the many guest rooms, then swore under his breath. This was so unlike him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her side. Not while she was so sick, especially when he’d caused it.
Frustrated beyond belief, Fionn found himself removing her shoes, top, and pants. Beneath the cashmere turtleneck and jeans that molded her body like a lover’s embrace, he was godsmacked by the curvy figure her garments had only hinted at. Sure those jeans had made him ache to shape her backside with hands, but the sheer beauty of her body unveiled was… There were no words. All he wanted to do was spend hours exploring it, tasting it, finding out what made it tick, what made it come. But he couldn’t. Not yet.
Tucking her beneath the covers as gently as he might a babe, Fionn simply looked at her, watching the rise and fall of her chest as the drug kept her sedated. How would she react when she woke? Would she be frightened? Pissed? If she was smart, she’d be terrified.
Recalling her earlier fear, Fionn found he didn’t want her frightened. Which was ridiculous. Fear equaled respect. It was the one thing he’d learned from his father and the man who’d raised them, Danny Sullivan, and the main reason he’d become so deadly. Until the day Danny Boy had beat Fionn nearly to death, Fionn had feared the man. Feared his father. But instead of the fear the big bastard had thought to reinforce inside the young boy Fionn had been, that beating had unleashed a fury so terrifying it froze the fear inside him until it shattered. In its place, the fury raged like an arctic storm, quelling any lingering emotion other than anger and hate inside Fionn. Only his brothers inspired anything other than mild disdain now. Harsh emotions were focused on Paddy O’Shea and Danny Sullivan. No one other than his brothers had ever proven to deserve any positive emotion from him. He loved his brothers with a strong, abiding love born of fire and pain. Love from his brothers had shown him there was no one in this world he had to fear. Fionn didn’t fear Paddy O’Shea, but the old man would do well to fear him.
Which brought him back to LeeAnn Bates and her father. The old man was behind Bart Holden’s bid for power. Of that there was no doubt. He was testing Shannon. Well, that was OK. He’d find Shannon more than up to the task, and Fionn at his back in the shadows, just like the avenging angel his brothers had always accused him of being.