Page 26 of Sins of the Father
I call room service, then perch on the bed. I need to copy the drive's contents, but Cillian won't leave me alone. My laptop is on the small coffee table, but I know he will ask what I am doing or worse see his drive andknow.
Through the bathroom door, Cillian's voice carries—loud, harsh words about "shipment" and "interference" filter through, nothing specific.
I need a plan. I could say I want to shop before the meeting, but he might want to come with me. I need him to leave me here, but I have my doubts he will, not after last night.
The bathroom door flings open. Cillian walks out with a towel around his waist, water drops on his chest. He looks worried, and aggitated.
"Problem?" I ask.
"Change of plans. We are going back to Boston tonight."
"What happened?"
"Business." He watches my face. "Nothing for you to worry about."
I stand up. "After last night, Iyou don’t think I can handle business."
His mouth curves up. "You are a feisty, stubborn woman." He says. "Where did you learn that?"
The question hides deeper meaning. I stick to my story. "My father was stubborn, must be in my genes."
"It is annoying," he growls, tucking hair behind my ear. "But such a gid damned turn on, you make my cock hard with that sass."
My heart speeds up. Does he suspect? I lean into his touch as distraction, hoping he leaves my boobs, and bra out of this. "Not all woman will just roll over at your feet, you know."
His thumb traces my jaw. "You did, last night."
"I did not roll over." I say, remembering how he held me above him.
His phone rings. He answers with irritation. "I told you I'd call back." His face darkens as he listens. "When?"
I move away, straining to hear details. Whatever has us racing back to Boston might help me get a copy of this drive.
Cillian ends the call. "Our flight leaves at two. Meeting still happens, but shorter."
"I'll pack," I say.
He walks to me, cupping my face with surprising gentleness. "About what happened?—"
I wait.
"I don't mix business with pleasure," he says. "Last night was an exception."
"Adrenaline," I suggest.
"More than that." His eyes hold mine. "But it’s complicated."
A knock at the door saves me. Cillian goes to answer, and signs for breakfast.
While he tips the server, I touch my bra, feeling the drive. It might be the justice I have been looking or, the answers. Yet as Cillian turns, catching my eye with a look that heats my skin, I face an unwelcome truth.
I'm in bed with the enemy. And I want to do it again.
CHAPTER 12
CILLIAN
Three days since New York, and Orla has been acting unlike herself. She arrives earlier. Stays even later. But gets less done. Her phone vanishes when I walk in. She avoids my eye contact. She is up to something—something shady that I will not like.
