03 Fighting for Irish

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Table of Contents Other Books by Gina L. Maxwell Dedication Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen

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Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Acknowledgments About the Author In Bed with Mr. Wrong Under the Covers Protecting What’s His Lover Undercover Down and Dirty Wilde Nights in Paradise Seducing Cinderella Rules of Entanglement

OTHER BOOKS BY GINA L. MAXWELL Seducing Cinderella Rules of Entanglement

FIGHTING FOR IRISH A

FIGHTING FOR LOVE NOVEL

GINA L. MAXWELL

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Copyright © 2014 by Gina L. Maxwell. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher. Entangled Publishing, LLC 2614 South Timberline Road Suite 109 Fort Collins, CO 80525 Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com. Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit www.brazenbooks.com.

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Edited by Liz Pelletier Cover design by Heather Howland Photography by Ross Zentner Featuring Adam Von Rothfelder and Brenna Schwartz ISBN 978-1-62266-427-6 Manufactured in the United States of America First Edition January 2014

To all those who have been sexually abused. May you always embrace the fighter inside, love yourself unconditionally, and never accept defeat.

Prologue Turning his ’62 Harley Panhead into the gravel lot of Lou’s Riverview, Aiden O’Brien got his first look at the backwoods swamp bar squatting on the outskirts of Alabaster, Louisiana. From the outside, it looked like a large single-story home that had seen better days. As in before the second World War, if the dilapidated wood siding and cracked

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foundation were anything to go by. The sign above the door was missing letters, the wood darker in the places where the sun hadn’t bleached it, announcing the establishment as “Lo ’s River ew.” He pulled his bike into a spot by the door and used the rubber sole of his boot to kick the stand down. Barely suppressing a groan, he swung his right leg over the seat. Riding from Boston, Mass., was a great way to enjoy the open road and scenic countryside. Unfortunately, it also turned out to be a great way to put his body through hell. A fire had lit in his tailbone somewhere between West Virginia and Kentucky. By the time he’d reached Mississippi, the flames had blazed a path up his spine and settled between his shoulders. As much as he loved

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his old Panhead, it definitely wasn’t designed as a touring bike. Stretching his legs, he had to wonder if “bayou” were French for “broiler.” Now that he no longer had the cooling benefit of the wind, Aiden felt like yesterday’s baked chicken withering under a heating lamp. The whirring of an air conditioner at the corner of the building gave him hope he’d find refuge inside from the scorching rays of the sun. Hanging his sunglasses on the collar of his T-shirt, he pulled open the heavy, weathered door and stepped inside. He supposed it didn’t look all that different from most old bars and taverns. Wooden booths lined the outside of the large room with as many tables as could fit crowded into the middle.

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Each booth sat beneath what passed for lamps but were nothing more than lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling, covered with plastic domes yellowed by time and tobacco smoke. Another room in the back looked to have pool tables and ratty couches for those who liked to drink while wielding gaming sticks that made easy weapons for their short tempers. A solid oak bar ran in a shallow U shape jutting out from the right wall. Since it was only early afternoon on a Tuesday, the place was all but empty except for the lone bartender and four old codgers playing poker at one of the front tables. With dirty clothes, a few days’ growth on their jaws, and about a dozen teeth among the four of them, Aiden wondered if they were homeless or an

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example of Alabaster’s typical residents. Swiping the back of his arm across his forehead, Aiden made his way to the bar. His throat felt like the Sahara and he meant to fix that. Then he’d make small talk and see if the info he’d been given was still accurate. Hopefully it was. Then he could give his friend the good news and be on his way. Not back to Boston, though. It’d taken him making good on a favor to finally get him out of his old neighborhood. Now that he had, he didn’t know why he hadn’t left five years ago when he destroyed his life. And that of his best friend. Maybe he’d travel the country on the back of his Harley for the rest of the summer. Pick the place he liked best and try to open a bike shop of his own. Or work at someone else’s.

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It didn’t matter as long as he got to work on bikes. It was the only thing that distracted him well enough to give him a handful of hours a day where he didn’t relive the worst night of his life. “What’ll it be?” The bartender placed the Mason jar he’d been drying on the shelf behind him, braced his palms on the counter, and waited expectantly. Aiden pulled out his wallet and thumbed out a five spot. Holding it to the man, he said, “Large water and some conversation.” One eyebrow arched as the bartender glanced between the bill and Aiden’s face. Probably trying to figure out what exactly Aiden wanted. A five wasn’t exactly the kind of money someone offered when they were

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poking around for information. On the other hand, it was a big tip for ordering a free drink. Aiden tried to recall how to manipulate his features into something resembling a nonthreatening expression. It no longer came easy to him as it once had. But covering your body in brightly colored tattoos and sporting several piercings tended to make people think twice about talking to you without the counteracting friendly smile. So Aiden would have to fake it if he wanted to find who he was looking for. She wasn’t going to just fall into his lap without a little effort on his part. Thankfully the bartender rescued him and made the first move. The guy held out his hand and introduced himself as Johnny

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Anders. Aiden grasped his hand firmly and pumped it a few times. “Irish.” When Johnny raised his brows in question, he added, “Just Irish.” No one down here, or anywhere, needed to know his real name. What was the point of leaving the past behind if every time you introduced yourself you invited it right back? “Okay, then. Just Irish it is.” Flashing the smile that probably earned him plenty of tips, Johnny grabbed the Mason jar he’d just cleaned and filled it with ice and water from the soda gun. “So where you from?” Behind him, the poker gang exploded in obnoxious complaints. He peered over his shoulder. One man gestured so wildly while shouting suspicions his buddy had cheated that half his beer sloshed onto the floor a few

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feet from Aiden. Johnny hollered at them to settle down and mumbled to himself about another mess he’d have to clean up. Aiden lifted the glass to his parched lips and tipped his head back until he’d drained every last drop of water. He exhaled with heavy relief and pushed it back, nodding a request for a refill. “Boston,” he said finally. He should probably try to speak more than a couple syllables at a time if the goal was to strike up a conversation for info. But before he could give it a shot, he heard footsteps coming from the back hallway marked with a sign that read OFFICES. Pulling her long red hair into a ponytail, a waitress entered the main room and used a mirrored Miller sign hanging on the wall to

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finish the style. She was…stunning. The tightening in his gut, like he’d just been sucker punched in the solar plexus, caught him off guard. Aiden couldn’t think of the last time a female had made his body sit up and beg at first glance. Apparently his dick had no such problem remembering and wanted to prove it. Hoping he appeared casual, he placed his left boot on the metal footrest running the length of the bar so she couldn’t see how tight the crotch of his jeans had gotten. She wasn’t classically beautiful. She didn’t bring to mind formal dresses, stiff up-dos, and dry champagne. More like sundresses, hair blowing in the summer breeze, and the sugary bite of a refreshing lemon—

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Fuck. Aiden rubbed his fingers over his forehead. He must have heat stroke from the last few hours of his ride. Yeah, heat stroke sounded good. He’d go with that. The alternative—comparing a woman to something like lemonade—would mean the demise of his virility, and he could kiss his Man Card good-bye. The living, breathing threat to his recent apathy regarding sex met his gaze in the mirror. She assessed him with a flick of her cool eyes. Something he thought might be mutual interest flared for a moment like a struck match before she doused the flame and looked away. She couldn’t have sent a more clear message than if she’d tattooed Not Interested on her forehead. Feigning his own disinterest, he turned his

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attention back to his water, but he continued to study her from the corner of his eye. She turned and reached over the bar counter for the open beer Johnny must have set there in anticipation of her arrival. Lifting the neck of the bottle to her lips, she took several long pulls. Lucky fucking bottle. Her body willowy and defined, she couldn’t have been taller than five-seven at most. She wore a logoed shirt just like Johnny, but hers had a plunging neckline that revealed the inner swells of her breasts. A stiff black skirt didn’t just hug her ass, it promoted it. The uniform was tight and meant to draw attention. The wrong kind. Images of drunken assholes pawing at her as she served them drinks flooded the space

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behind his eyes. Something he’d thought dead for years stirred in Aiden’s gut. His misguided sense to protect and defend where he had no right. Where this woman worked and the attention she attracted was no concern of his. Actually, that’s exactly what she might be, dumbass. Your concern. He recalled the description his friend had given him. Red hair, small, and covered in freckles. Looks like he might not need to make conversation with Johnny after all. She wasn’t close enough for him to see any freckles, but red hair stuck out like a domestic beer in an Irish pub. “Hey, Johnny,” she said, “think we can claim a measles outbreak or something and shut down for the night?”

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The man snorted. “Are you kidding? Lou would probably tell us to wear gloves and paper masks and keep on serving.” Tying a small black serving apron with pockets around her waist, she sighed and said, “Then I guess we’ll just have to hope time goes fast and nothing gets broken tonight.” “Your constant optimism is what I love best about you, Sydney,” Johnny said. Damn. Wrong name. She gave Johnny a wry grin while sticking an order pad and pen in her apron. “Bite me, Anders.” As the old guys stopped playing to shout their hellos to the waitress, she made her way around the front of the bar and offered her own greetings in the way of smartass

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comments. Aiden started to ask Johnny if he could see a bar menu when he heard a squeal next to him. Her foot had slipped on the spilled beer and sent her on a one-way trip to the floor. Reflexes took over. He took one large step to the left and snaked an arm around her waist, bringing her up short before she hit the ground. Instinctively, her arms had latched onto his neck for dear life, bringing her body flush with his. Somewhere in the background, whistles and catcalls filled the bar for saving the woman, but he didn’t acknowledge them. Or anything else for that matter. His chest felt branded where her breasts pressed against the steel bars in his nipples and sent shockwaves of pleasure to his balls. Desperate to

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derail his train of thought, he focused on her face, now only inches from his. Natural beauty. That’s what popped into his head. Everything about her looked like it had been pulled from one of the four elements. He’d been wrong to think of her hair as merely “red.” Now that he saw it up close, it reminded him of the orange and gold streaks of a sunrise. Blue eyes with a hue of green, like the water in a brochure for the perfect island vacation, gazed up at him with an innocent uncertainty. The rest of her face was variant shades of peach: the lightest being her flawless skin, the darkest being her plump lips, and the feature that used every shade in between… Freckles.

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Looked like he’d been wrong after all. Because despite the wrong name, the reason Aiden left Boston for this Podunk town in the middle of nowhere just literally fell into his arms.

Chapter One TWO MONTHS LATER… Aiden scanned the room of the rowdy backwoods bar and studied the various stages of inebriation of its patrons: drunk, really drunk, and totally shitfaced. The crowd had hit its peak, but Kat MacGregor, who went by the ill-fitting alias Sydney Carter, kept pace between the bar and her tables without any problems.

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Since finding her, Aiden had gotten himself hired as a cooler for the bar and allowed to put together a small team. It had only taken a couple days of observing the damage caused by nightly bar fights to sell Lou on the idea. Especially since they were getting paid just as shitty as the rest of the employees. The bar owner ended up making out in the deal, since he didn’t have to keep replacing beer glasses and tables. Aiden had called his good friend and old teammate, Xander James, and soon after, Xan had loaded up his worldly possessions and Aiden’s other bike and driven down to become part of the team and “find his next adventure.” Aiden had recruited Johnny Anders and a couple of Johnny’s buddies to round out the

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team. Now, on any given night, Lou’s had two coolers working the floor. Usually three or four on weekends, depending on when the full moon came around because the crazy seemed to flow like the beer on those days. The hardest part had been teaching Johnny and the others the difference between a bouncer and a cooler. They kept thinking that their job was to step in once an issue became a problem, which was the job of a bouncer. Coolers were proactive. They did their best to contain things before they became problems, ensuring the bar stayed busy, if a little on the rambunctious side. Xan and Aiden had to shadow them the first couple weeks to show them what they were supposed to look for as coolers. Once

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they got the hang of it, though, there was a lot less broken shit to clean up at the end of the night. Not that a night at Lou’s Riverview was anything close to calm and uneventful, but it was a lot less volatile than before. And if he could make Kat’s environment a little safer for now, then he was satisfied. “Same shite, different night, eh mate?” The British-accented voice of Xander crackled through the comm-link in his ear. Aiden had ponied up the cash for those babies, which had been the deal clincher for Lou. So long as his backup could hear him if he needed them, he didn’t care. Every Friday night was the same. When the people of Alabaster blew off steam from their workweek, the bar became a hotbed for trouble. Emotions ran high, fueled by

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pitchers of beer and rounds of shots. The entire scene was underscored by the classic rock and country music blaring through the sound system. “Always is,” he said absently as Kat whooshed by holding a tray of bottlenecks. Barely turning his head, he followed her with his eyes. The swing of her hips and curve of her ass damn near hypnotized him. Kat made waitressing look like an art form, simultaneously weaving her way through the crowd, delivering trays of drinks, and beating back the locals with her sharp wit and even sharper tongue. As he moved through the land of the inebriated, he searched for signs of trouble and kept one eye on the spunky redhead. She knew how to handle herself and, unlike the

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other waitresses, never called on the coolers for help. But that never stopped him from intervening. There was always a bad apple in the bunch that didn’t use the sense God gave him. If he noticed a potential threat, he’d move in and take care of it before it escalated. If his presence alone wasn’t enough, a wellworded threat against the family jewels usually did the trick. Around these parts, the “family” kind was all they had and they tended to prefer them intact. The first time he’d run interference for Kat with a less-than-polite customer, she’d stared at him incredulously. He’d only managed to stare back, unable to find his words with those light blue eyes turned on him, before she spun on her heel and stormed off.

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That happened a few more times: him stepping in, an awkward staring contest, and a silent retreat. Then, one night after he’d “escorted” a guy out in a chokehold for grabbing her ass, she stalked up to him outside with narrowed eyes and fists planted on slender hips. “I can take care of myself.” Aiden crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t doubt that.” “Then knock it off. The other coolers aren’t as meddling as you. Dealing with a certain amount of crap gets me decent tips. You scowling at every customer who looks at me wrong is cutting into my bottom line, buddy.” Aiden hadn’t considered that the waitresses got tipped better if they let the men

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flirt or paw at them. He scowled. He didn’t want to hurt her financially, but there was no way he was backing off. “How much would you say you lose every time I interfere?” She threw her hands in the air, clearly frustrated. “Five, ten, twenty bucks? How the hell should I know?” He nodded. “Then I’ll give you twenty bucks every time I keep some asshole’s hands off you.” Her brows drew together and the starch left her spine. “I don’t want your money, Irish.” He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. Or his nickname, anyway. Just like she used an alias, he’d stuck with his old nickname from his fighting days. Xander was the only one there who knew his real name—and his secrets—and he intended to

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keep it that way. “Are you listening to me?” she asked. “I want you to back off.” Like hell he would. “Can’t.” “What do you mean you can’t?” He couldn’t tell her that any more than he could back off like she wanted. Couldn’t tell her that his reason for leaving his home on the South side of Boston for Bumfuck Nowhere had started out as a favor owed to a friend and ended up as something else entirely. That from the moment he saw her, his promise to make sure she was okay for her sister’s peace of mind came second to his own inexplicable need to watch over her. To protect her. Fighting the urge to pull her into his arms and chase away the ghosts he saw in her

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eyes, Aiden shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “As long as I’m around, no one touches you without an invitation.” Unable to help himself, he lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “No one.” She jerked back with a barely audible hitch of breath. A flash of something he couldn’t identify crossed her face, and then she darted back inside. After that, she never spoke to him again other than a quick thank you with her eyes whenever he helped her. Nonverbal communication was fine with him, so he always responded with a look of his own, hoping it said, you’re welcome, and not, Goddamn you’re gorgeous, or, I’d give anything to bury myself in you for a night. Since she hadn’t hauled off and kicked him in the junk yet, he figured he’d done okay so

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far. Every day, though, it was getting harder and harder to disguise the heat he suspected simmered in his eyes when he locked sights with her. He couldn’t help it. He liked to think he was a decent guy, but he was far from a damn saint. Her pixie-petite frame and subtle curves were highlighted by her short and tight uniform, and it was all he could do to not mentally undress her. And then mentally fuck her. “Irish,” Xan said through the comm-link. “You got sights on the shit brewing over by the billiards?” “How many times have I told you we call it ‘pool’ on this side of the Pond? You sound like an ass.” “Right, and you sound so bloody

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intelligent with your wicked smaht accent, ya feckin’ Southie.” “Better than being a Yorkie, douchebag.” Some friends drank beer and hugged. Some beat on punching bags and gave each other shit. Aiden and Xan didn’t hug. He located the two already in a heated argument, but his phone vibrated on his hip before he even took a step in their direction. Shit. Very few people had his number. Fewer still whom he could blow off. Checking the screen, he swore under his breath at the text. “Xan, I gotta make a call. Think you can handle this one solo?” “Look who you’re talking to. Of course I can. I can handle anything.” Xander was known for many things. Modesty wasn’t one of them. “Go take your call, but hurry it up. I

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want to chat up this lovely bird who keeps shagging me with her eyes.” “This might shock you,” Aiden replied as he made his way to the back office, “but your sex life isn’t my top priority.” “Neither is yours. You need to stop fucking around and tell—” “Shut it, Xan.” Closing the office door behind him muffled most of the noise from the bar. “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.” He turned off his comm-link and pulled it from his ear to dangle over his shoulder. Aiden hated these calls. They reminded him of things he tried to forget. Like the current double life he was leading. After a couple of rings, a male voice answered. “Hey, O’Brien.”

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“How’s it goin’, Jax?” “It’s been better, man. Between stress from work and planning a wedding, V’s a little more high-strung-OCD than normal. Add in worrying about her little sister, and I’m strongly considering putting an ad in the classifieds for an old priest and a young priest, Exorcist style.” Aiden grinned and leaned his hips back on the edge of the paper-covered desk. “So you’re hoping an update will help soothe the beast, is that it?” “I’m willing to try anything at this point, but I figured I’d call you before the newspaper. So what’s going on in Alligator Alley? Tell me you two eloped and are making babies on a beach somewhere.” “I thought you wanted good news.”

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“Are you kidding? That’d be awesome news. Then we’d be brothers through marriage and we could build the first IrishHawaiian team in MMA. Just think how cool our banner would be. Our logo could be a pineapple with a shamrock cut out of it.” Aiden dragged a hand over his face. He’d almost forgotten how exhausting Jax could be. To outsiders, Jax seemed deceptively calm and laid back, but those lucky enough to call him friend knew the guy had boundless energy that he put into three things: fighting, surfing, and his relationship with Kat’s older sister, Vanessa. Beyond that, Jax was the kind of man you could count on when the shit hit the fan. Which was why Aiden was in his current situation. He owed Jax. A lot.

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He didn’t know the specifics of Kat’s situation except that she’d asked Vanessa for help with something major before disappearing from her last known place of residence. They’d hired a PI, who’d managed to locate her in Alabaster, but Vanessa wasn’t convinced she wasn’t still in trouble of some sort. That’s when he’d gotten the call from Jax, asking him to head down to Louisiana for a couple weeks to see what Kat was up to and if she was okay. But a couple weeks was going on three months of watching out for Kat, whether she liked it or not. He periodically reported in to Jax or Vanessa to maintain the ruse that he’d stayed for them and not for reasons of his own he didn’t care to examine. Aiden shoved his hand into his jeans

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pocket. “I wish I could help, but there’s nothin’ new to report here. Same old, same old, you know?” “Well, I guess that’s better than the alternative of finding out she’s still in trouble,” Jax said. “Listen, I also wanted to tell you that I’m taking V on a cruise tomorrow. We’ll be gone two weeks. She needs to unplug and unwind before she has a total meltdown. I’m concerned for Kat, too, but my first priority is my fiancée and I’m confident you can handle everything out there until we get back.” Aiden nodded. “She’s been out here for six months without any issues. Odds of anything happening are practically nil, so just worry about your girl. I got things over here.” “Thanks, man.”

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“So the big day’s coming up, isn’t it?” Jax’s heavy sigh came through the tiny speaker loud and clear. “I’m not sure. She’s already canceled it and changed the date twice. This cruise was actually supposed to be our honeymoon. She keeps pushing the wedding back with excuses about work or not having things ready, but I know better than that.” “I didn’t peg her for a cold feet kind of girl.” “It’s not about that, brah. She keeps hoping Kat will answer her calls and agree to come to the ceremony.” Aiden swore something stabbed him in the chest at hearing that. He was so close with his sisters. He couldn’t imagine not being at their weddings. Colleen was his Irish twin,

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which meant they had the same birth year. He’d been born in January and she in December. Growing up, she often played the role of “mom” to him and their baby sister, Mary Catherine, when their mother was at one of her two jobs. And outside the house, Aiden protected and looked after his sisters. They’d forever been the Three Musketeers, them against the world. Or what was their world, anyway. It’d been hard distancing himself from them over the last several years, even though it was for their own good. But if he ever had to completely sever ties, it’d be devastating. Aiden rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry to hear that, man. Hopefully a few more calls to Kat about wedding stuff will do the trick.”

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“I have a better idea. Sweep her off her feet, whisk her to Hawaii, and we’ll have a double wedding. I hear they’re all the rage.” “Yeah, right. So not happening, brah,” he said, adding a mocking tone to his friend’s Hawaiian term. “Okay, fine,” Jax said. “Jokes aside, though, man. As far as V knows, Kat has a real bad history with men. I don’t know her, but I know you. You’re a good man, O’Brien. You’d treat her well, and she might even remind you you’re not the piece of shit you think you are. Who knows, you might even fall in love.” Aiden pushed off the desk and clenched the phone hard enough to do some damage if he kept it up for long. “I can’t have that, Jax. You know that.”

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“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said meaningfully. “Killing my best friend’s sister doesn’t exactly make me the lovable type.” “Everyone deserves to be loved, O’Brien. Even you. You’re just too lost in the past to realize it.” Unable to get past the tightness in his throat to say anything else, Aiden disconnected the call. He couldn’t deal with the shit in his head trying to get out right now. It was almost closing time. He needed to focus on getting through the rest of the night, and then he’d go home and work out till he passed out or at least became too tired to think. Total physical and mental exhaustion was his only option for self-medicating anymore.

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As he entered the main area of the bar, he saw Kat arguing with a customer. Pushing his way through the crowd, Aiden approached the four men in the booth, placing himself between the mouthy one and Kat. The table quieted as he planted his feet and crossed his arms. Pinning the drunk with nothing more than a hard stare, he directed his question to Kat. “What’s the problem?” “He’s just arguing over his tab,” she said. “It doesn’t require your services, Irish.” Aiden nearly smirked. She was so proud, this one. He liked that about her, though, and she was right. She could take care of a squabble over a bill. Giving her a quick nod of acknowledgment, he moved out of her way but stayed within earshot.

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“Speaking of servicesss,” the man slurred, “what do you charge for your serviccces?” Kat shook her head and made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Come on now, Karl. Didn’t your mama raise you to never ask a lady about her business unless she offers first?” “My mama run off when I was little, but my daddy taught me plenty on what to do with da ladies.” The group of men erupted in laughter and elbowed one another in the ribs. “I’ll just bet,” she said. “Look, why don’t you pay for the seven rounds you and I both know you ordered, and I’ll get you one last round on the house.” Karl narrowed his eyes, a sneer twisting his lips, and leaned in. “I tell you whut. I’ll

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pay for the six rounds I know I ordered, and instead of a free round, you can show us your titties.” Aiden’s body shot bowstring tight. In one stride, he reached the booth, yanked the bastard out by the front of his shirt, and held him so his toes barely scraped the floor. The man literally trembled. His eyes were so wide he looked prepped for eye surgery and his head was drawn back so far on his neck it looked cartoonish. Aiden had at least twenty pounds of muscle and almost half a foot on the guy. Not to mention the ability to break him in dozens of different ways if the notion happened to strike. “Say that again, asshole,” Aiden growled. “I fucking dare you.” “I was just jokin’, man, I swear!”

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“Irish, I can—” “I got this, Syd. Go back to work,” he said as evenly as possible. The rage bubbled dangerously close to the surface. The last thing he wanted to do was deflect any of that onto her, but thanks to dipshit Karl, he was hanging onto his control by a thread. With a disgusted sigh, she whipped the towel down from her shoulder and strode toward the bar. He waited to make sure she wasn’t obeying her stubborn Scottish streak that no doubt wanted her to come back and stand her ground. Then he took the folded cash he saw in the guy’s front shirt pocket. Aiden set the man down, glanced at the amount scrawled on the paper tab, and thumbed through the bills—mostly crumpled singles with a few fives.

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“You’re still seven dollars short,” Aiden said. “Any of your friends want to pony up the rest and the lady’s tip?” The three other men voiced a chorus of, “Karl said he was payin’,” and, “I ain’t got nothin’ on me.” Aiden kept the money and the tab. Jabbing a hard finger into Karl’s chest, Aiden loomed over him to get his point across. “You’re done for the night, Karl. The next time you come here you’re gonna remember two things: one, you bring enough money to cover your bill and leave a generous tip for whichever waitress busts her ass to bring you your beer, and two, you will treat the waitresses with the respect they deserve. Got it?” Karl nodded with so much enthusiasm he looked like a bobblehead on speed.

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“Good,” Aiden said. “Now go home.” The man and his small posse didn’t waste any time following orders, and that was one more problem solved for the night. Aiden put in the last bit missing so it wouldn’t come out of Kat’s wages, then gave the money and the bill to the bartender for settling. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kat walk down the hall toward the back office and the employee bathroom. He grabbed another bill from his wallet and followed her. “Sydney.” She turned her head just before entering the bathroom. Aiden walked over and stood next to her, unable to say anything. It was always like this for him. Whenever he helped her out on the floor, he had no problems speaking. He might be a man of few words,

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but that didn’t mean he didn’t say everything he needed to get his point across. But when he was alone with Kat, he couldn’t get a damn thing out. He was afraid his “Hey, how was your weekend?” would end up as something entirely different. That opening his mouth to say anything would let out all the things he couldn’t let himself say. You’re all I fucking think about. I wanna feel your body against mine and wrap your legs around my waist. Feel what it’s like to have your pussy squeeze my cock as you come and breathe you in until you’re the only thing inside me. So instead of taking the risk, Aiden simply held out the twenty dollar bill between them until she accepted it. Reluctantly, as always. Holding up the bill, she said, “I told you to

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stop this.” “I know.” Forcing himself to turn around, he retraced his steps toward the bar. “Irish.” He stopped just before entering the main room and looked back over his shoulder. Her face softened, the lines around her blue-green eyes gone. “Thank you,” she said. “For what you did in there.” Aiden nodded and continued out to the bar area. Winding his way through the crowd, he couldn’t help but hear Jax’s parting words echoing in his head. Everyone deserves to be loved. Even you. Jax was wrong, though. As far as Aiden was concerned, he’d lost that right on the rainy streets of Boston five long years ago. The night he’d ended Janey’s life.

Chapter Two Kat’s shitty night just got worse. They’d found her. Two states, six months, and a fake name since her previous encounter with them, and they’d still managed to find her. How didn’t matter. It was why that clawed her insides all to hell. The paper placemat sporting beer stains and a hastily scrawled note shook in her

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trembling hands. Chancing a quick glance around the barely lit employee parking lot behind Lou’s Riverview, she stared at the words again, praying she’d read them wrong. Time to pay up! We got eyes on you & ears with the pigs. You got 48 hrs. Nope. She’d read them right the first time. Roughly translated, it said Antony Sicoli wanted his money in the next two days, or she could look forward to another up-closeand-personal tour of the local ER. Or the morgue. It also told her she was being watched, and Sicoli had already managed to compromise at least one of Alabaster, Louisiana’s

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finest. In other words, Kat MacGregor was totally, and utterly, screwed. Fighting to keep the acid in her stomach where it belonged, she cursed herself six ways to Sunday. She should have known better. She should have dyed her strawberry hair an inky black, maybe hacked off a good twelve inches so it fell to her chin. Should have covered her freckles with caked-on makeup like the other lost souls working at Lou’s for shitty tips and lewd comments. Waitressing at that rundown joint in the cane breaks of Alabaster was the exact opposite of a “dream job.” But Lou paid under the table and didn’t ask any questions, so for someone on the lam like herself, it qualified as the “perfect job.”

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Digging through her purse, she desperately searched for the keys to her shit-brown 1984 Chevy Celebrity, needing to feel the modicum of safety its rusting frame would offer. It might be a piece of crap, but it was the only thing constant in her life from when she left home at the age of seventeen. Well, that and Lenny. Fucking Lenny. She’d known he wasn’t going to amount to anything when they were dating her junior year in high school, but it hadn’t mattered. He had the Celebrity and was willing to take her far away from her house and the shit that went on inside those four walls. So what if his idea of a job was gambling while she worked random waitressing gigs to make sure they had enough to scrape by? Frustrating, but certainly not the

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worst scenario she could imagine. However, the situation they’d barely escaped in Nashville half a year ago had gone from merely frustrating to life-threatening. Lenny screwed up bad when he got himself twenty grand into debt to the biggest crime boss in Tennessee. Hell, Sicoli was probably the only crime boss in Tennessee, and Lenny had still managed to get mixed up with him, of all people. They’d gotten the hell out of Nashville after Sicoli’s guys gave Lenny a reality check message—’cause nothing says “pay up or else” like putting a guy’s girl in the hospital with a few cracked ribs, a concussion, and a swollen face to rival the final scene in a Rocky movie—and ended up in the Podunk town of Alabaster.

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Kat scoffed as she shook the contents of her purse, hoping her keys would rise to the top. What a total misnomer. The person who named this town had either been hopeful for its future or completely blind. There wasn’t anything white or translucent about the place, but rather a palette of greens and browns in the muddy water swamplands of the Mississippi. But even as shitty as it was, Alabaster had proved to be decent as far as a place to lay low. That was until last month when Lenny got arrested for “possession with intent to sell” a fairly large stash of crystal meth. Crystal meth! When she’d finally gotten him to agree to stop gambling, she never thought in a million years he’d get into selling drugs. Not that she’d expected him to get an

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upstanding job this side of the law—after all, that’s why he kept her around—but drugs? Either way, it didn’t matter. By getting arrested, Lenny had indirectly done her a favor. Living on her own for the first time made her realize she could stand on her own two feet. Her entire life she’d depended on someone else to take care of things. But not anymore. Since he’d started his stint at Elayn Hunt Correctional Center, Kat decided to save every penny she could and leave town—and Lenny—before he got out of prison. And she’d foolishly thought things were going well. For the first time in ten years, she’d enjoyed her freedom, the chance to live without worrying about what sort of crap Lenny was up to. But now, ironically, the

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EHCC might as well be a safe house for him while she was stuck out here in the real world with guys who wanted something she couldn’t deliver. Fucking beautiful. Finally, she felt her keys and pulled them out, only to fumble them in her shaking hands and drop them in the dirt and shadows at her feet. Cursing, she bent down to retrieve them when she heard a loud shuffling sound several yards behind her. Her heart raced and the air whooshed out of her lungs at the thought of actually facing Sicoli’s thugs, until she heard the drunken rendition of an Alan Jackson song that accompanied the footsteps. Kat was fairly sure no self-respecting mob muscle would approach a target so carelessly. Or so out of tune.

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Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her keys, stood up, and turned to face Rick, one of the triple-regulars at Lou’s. Meaning he was regularly there, regularly drunk, and regularly an asshole. “Hey dere, Syd the Sexy. You been waitin’ on me?” he asked, bracing himself with one arm on the Celebrity. Having to answer to an alias was bad enough. Rick turning it into a ridiculous nickname was even worse. Considering she’d just worked a double, she was tired, her feet ached, and the muscles in her upper back burned from strain. And that was all before she’d found the cheerful note on her windshield. So dealing with his shit now was almost more than she could handle. “Fuck off, Mullineaux, I’m not in the

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mood. Go sober up in your truck. Which is in the front parking lot, by the way.” Then, hoping he’d take the hint, she turned away from him to unlock her door. “Dere’s no need to be so damn rude, missy,” he spat out, his bayou accent thick and slurred. “You tink yer so much bedda dan de rest uh dem sluts dat work fer Lou, but you ain’t.” His words crawled over her skin like a thousand spiders. She slipped her keys between her fingers and made a fist, creating the self-defense move she’d named after one of her favorite Marvel characters: the Wolverine. Not for the first time—not even for the hundredth—she wished she had actual superpowers. Then she wouldn’t have any problems dealing with scum like Rick

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Mullineaux. Forcing herself to face the threat, she braced herself and said, “Go home, Rick. I’m not looking for trouble with you or anyone else. I just want to work my shifts and be left alone.” “Dat’s just too damn bad, isn’t it? I don’ particularly want to leave you alone.” He stepped in, crowding her back against the door. Before he could lay a hand on her, she reacted, slashing the keys down his cheek, leaving bloody scratches in their wake. “You bitch!” Shoving him as hard as she could, Kat spun around and grabbed for her door handle. Unfortunately, she hadn’t thought her

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escape through. She’d pushed him with enough force to send him backward…where he bounced back from the truck parked next to her and pinned her between his beer gut and the Celebrity, his hands brutally gripping her hips. Instantly, the nightmares she’d kept locked away for years flooded her memory and her old defense system took over. She could feel herself checking out, slipping into that dark void in her mind where nothing existed. Nothing bad and nothing good. Just…nothing. He’d be able to do whatever he wanted now. Her attempts at protecting herself ended the moment he touched her. So while her sanity waited in the void, her body would play possum. All that was left

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was to hope that when the bigger animal was done toying with her, there’d still be enough left of her to drag home afterward.

… Aiden pushed through the heavy steel door in the back of Lou’s as he lit the cigarette already pinched between his lips. The stifling August heat smacked him right in the face and the humidity was so thick his lungs felt like they took on fluid with every breath. He actually preferred the carcinogenic smoke circulating in his lungs to the swamp water–filled air. He’d lived in Boston all thirty-two years of his life and hated winter every time it came around. But he was starting to appreciate the idea of a snowstorm over Louisiana’s

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suffocating summer. Though, he supposed when combined with not having to look his past in the face every damn day, even a hellhole like Alabaster was a step up. He took a long drag of the cigarette and watched the cherry burn brighter in the dark as it ate its way through the tobacco and paper. It was times like this when he wished he could unwind from the long night with a cold beer. But not a drop of alcohol had passed his lips in five long years, and that’s the way it would stay. Fridays were always the hardest. Aiden and the other coolers definitely earned their paychecks those nights. He’d had to prevent four fights tonight and that wasn’t including whatever Xander’s count had been. But, he reminded himself, any night he

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didn’t have to use his fists was a win in his book. Along with Aiden’s “no drinking” policy had come his equally strict “no fighting” policy. No easy feat for an Irish Southie with a temper, who used to earn his living as a professional MMA fighter. As he exhaled a stream of white smoke, he heard the mumbling sounds of a conversation coming from the back of the dirt lot. The dim floodlight over the back of the door barely illuminated the scene. He couldn’t make out much more than shadow figures, but one was definitely a female, and judging from the sloppy movements of the slouching silhouette, the other a drunken patron. Aiden knew some of the waitresses did more than just get some of the customers their drinks. Though he wasn’t fond of the

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idea, he stayed out of their business, just like they stayed out of his. It was the unspoken law of Lou’s Riverview. Having no desire to witness anything he might need bleach to wash his eyes out with later, Aiden dropped his cigarette and turned to head back into the bar. Just as his hand grasped the handle, he heard the man shout in anger, followed by the sound of a scuffle, stopping him cold. He ran toward the couple, counting his strides along the way to remind himself to keep his temper in check. When he got close enough to be sure of what was happening, he clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked. Then, when he realized it was happening to Kat, Aiden damn near exploded with rage. His instincts fired commands to

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his muscles to Superman-punch the asshole into next week, but his brain managed to rein him in just before he lost control. Instead, he grabbed the guy by his neck, yanked him back, and roared as he sent him flying a good six feet to land in a misshapen heap with a loud thud. “Goddamn Mullineaux,” he ground out through his teeth. Aiden crossed to crouch by the unmoving hillbilly and felt for a pulse. He was almost disappointed when it came through nice and strong. After moving the guy to the edge of the parking lot to sleep it off, he left to go check on Kat. She was still pressed up against the side of her car. She hadn’t even turned her head to see what had gone down or where her attacker had disappeared. He looked her up and

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down, trying to see if the bastard had hurt her in any way. Her standard-issue short black skirt was still in place, but the fitted white T-shirt had been pulled from her waistband. His gut churned at the thought of anyone, especially Mullineaux, pawing at her like a piece of meat. Physically, she had the look of young innocence and natural beauty, which put her at odds with her surroundings. But her eyes told a much different story. They clearly showed she was haunted by her past, and in that respect, she fit right in with the rest of life’s misfits who found themselves at Lou’s. “Sydney?” He hated using her fake name, but as far as she was concerned, he was just another work acquaintance who barely knew

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her, and that’s how it needed to stay. “He’s gone now. It’s okay.” Nothing. Shit. She was shaking. She reminded him of the time he and Mary Catherine had found a tiny kitten hiding in a corner behind their school. It had curled itself into a quaking little fur ball, hiding its face like if it couldn’t see the threat, it wouldn’t be real. He remembered how Mary Catherine had crouched in that corner, petting and whispering to the tiny thing until it finally felt safe enough to come out. Aiden had never been the logical and reassuring type. He’d been more of a barely contained powder keg. It had served him well in his professional fights, but outside the cage

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he’d always punched first and asked questions later. Eventually, it ruined his life and the lives of those he loved. Since then, he’d been trying his best to be the exact opposite. He’d managed to keep his temper locked down, and now he hoped he didn’t totally fuck up the calm and gentle thing. Channeling Mary Catherine with the kitten, Aiden eased up behind her, hoping to coax her out of her metaphorical corner. Hesitantly, he reached out to stroke the length of her back. As soon as his palm flattened between her shoulder blades, she gasped as though breaking through the surface of the Boston harbor in February. She spun around and hissed. “Don’t touch me.”

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Seeing her now, with her back plastered against the car and her eyes wide with fear, Aiden wanted to crush Mullineaux’s windpipe with his bare hands something fierce. It had been years since he felt the urge to pull a woman into his arms for reasons other than satisfying the basest of sexual needs, but in the past several months, he found himself wanting to just hold Kat and offer her comfort for whatever she might need. Now was no exception. But he couldn’t give in to the urge for multiple reasons, not the least of which was his refusal to get too close to her. So instead, he held his hands up with palms facing out and prayed the talking part of Mary Catherine’s method worked better than the petting had.

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… “I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear.” The deep voice slid into Kat’s ears and brought the world around her into focus once more. Ahm naht gonna huhrt you, I swea-uh. The Bostonian accent registered in her brain as belonging to only one man. A man who, despite his reserved personality, always seemed to be at her side whenever a customer got grabby or even too bitchy—whether she wanted him to be there or not. A man whose blue eyes could make her feel naked and protected all at the same time from a single glance across a crowded bar. “Irish?” “Yeah, it’s me.”

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Relief started in her toes and worked its way up her body, reawakening her nerves and chasing away the subconscious paralysis she hated more than anything. She started feeling somewhat normal…until she noticed Rick sprawled on the ground behind Irish, and her pulse spiked again. “Hey, don’t worry about him.” Irish stepped to the side, his palms still held out in a nonthreatening gesture, and blocked her view. He pointed two fingers at his own eyes and said, “Stay right here with me, kitten.” Stay with him? What did he mean by that? Before she could do something stupid like swoon over what was most likely a meaningless phrase, the last part registered in her brain. “Kitten?” Oh, no. Had he discovered her

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real name? Was this his way of letting her know? Then a thought crossed her mind that made her blood run cold. Maybe he’s one of Sicoli’s men. “Why would you call me that?” The right corner of his mouth curled up. “What, are you kidding? One minute you’re cowering in the corner, the next, hissing and scratching.” He shrugged one heavily muscled shoulder. “Sorry, it just slipped out. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Kat relaxed a few degrees again and offered a weak smile. “That’s okay. It’s better than Sydney anyway,” she muttered. He slowly dropped his hands to his sides and took a small step forward. “You don’t like your name?” Dropping her chin to her chest, she said honestly, “I hate that name.” Not that it

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wasn’t a nice name, but since she was forced to answer to it instead of her own, it put a bad taste in her mouth. Because she was looking at the ground, she saw his hand coming and didn’t startle when she felt a finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. Less than a foot separated them, and at this proximity she was reminded of just how massive he was. Broad shoulders and a thick chest tapered to a narrow waist somewhere way below her line of sight. He towered over her five-foot-seveninches frame and the bad lighting off to their side made his features all harsh lines and hollowed shadows. “You got a last name, then?” She arched a single brow. “Do you, Irish?” Of course, she knew he did. Everyone had

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a last name. It was more a question of whether or not they chose to use it, and around here, a lot of people went the way of Madonna and Cher. A slight twist up at the corner of his lips. “Guess I’ll stick with ‘kitten,’ then.” Kat tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach. The idea of any man using an affectionate name with her—especially the man whose deep, raspy voice gave her goose bumps every time he spoke—was so foreign that a short, nervous laugh burst out before she could bite it back. He canted his head slightly and raised a curious eyebrow at her reaction. Clearing her throat, she tried to sound aloof. “Whatever trips your trigger.” “You wanna come in for a drink and let

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your nerves settle for a bit?” Suddenly, she remembered about the eyes and ears and thugs and money. All she wanted to do was get to her shitty apartment, down a few glasses of Jack Daniel’s from Lenny’s abundant supply, and sink into an inebriated oblivion where reality ceased to exist. Her eyes darted around the back lot, searching the corners cloaked in pitch for any signs of lurking figures with watchful eyes. “Uh, n-no, I gotta get home,” she stammered as she finally opened the car door and sat behind the wheel. He gripped the doorframe, preventing her from pulling it closed behind her. “You sure you’re okay?”

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Using a lifetime of feigning things she didn’t feel, she pulled up the corners of her lips and showed her teeth. “Absolutely.” “Wait, I think you dropped something.” She looked over just in time to see him squat down and retrieve the crumpled placemat from the ground. “This yours?” Her stomach sank as he opened it up. “Nope, not mine. Thanks again, Irish.” She didn’t wait for his response, just slammed the door, started her car, and got the hell out of there.

Chapter Three Kat probably checked her rearview mirror at least a hundred times, trying to see if any cars were following her, but all she saw was the ambient glow of her taillights as she wound her way through the back roads. She’d obviously seen too many action and suspense movies lately. From now on I watch strictly rom-coms. There wasn’t anything in a Katherine Heigl movie that could

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add to her paranoia. Ten minutes later, she hit the twostoplight downtown of Alabaster. Another five minutes and she was in her upstairs apartment over the local tattoo joint, throwing all three deadbolts and securing the chain lock. Kat sagged back against the door and didn’t even try to stop her knees from buckling as she slid to the floor, a shaking bundle of nerves. Over a decade had passed since she’d felt helpless against the sexual advances of a man, and yet all it took was a single moment for it all to crash in around her. She despised the binding vulnerability that made her weak when she needed to be strong. A target when she wanted to be a weapon.

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Clenching her hands into fists to stop them from trembling, she forced herself to take deep breaths and forget about past threats so she could focus on the new one. Looking around, she studied her small studio for any signs that someone had been there, but as far as she could tell from her current position, everything was exactly as she’d left it. The black futon couch in its upright position still had her leopard-print Snuggie thrown over the back. Her latest movie purchases—her main form of entertainment—were spread out where she’d left them on the old trunk she used as a coffee table, dining table, footrest, and nightstand. The kitchenette to the right looked untouched, its mini-counter bare except for the microwave

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and toaster she used to cook most of her meals. So, she thought, unless they’d done something to, or were still hiding in, her three-quarter bathroom off to the left, her place was uncompromised. For now. Pushing off the floor, she got to work on doing what she could to feel as relaxed and safe as she possibly could in her situation. She poured a full glass of Jack and downed half of it on the spot with four ibuprofen before refilling it and setting it on the wooden trunk. Rolling her head to stretch her neck in hopes of relieving some of her tension, Kat changed into her typical sleepwear: a wife beater tank and panties. She had a window A/C unit, but it only worked when it wanted

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to and Louisiana summer nights were brutal, so the less she wore, the better. As she pushed her skirt off, she sucked in a breath at the tender points on her hips. Glancing down, she saw the four red marks on both sides where Rick’s fingers had bruised her from pressing her skin against her own hip bones. It had been a long time since she’d seen marks like those on her body, and seeing them now threatened to choke her brain with the bile of her past. But she’d be damned if she let it. She had more important things to worry about. Like whether or not she even had a future if she couldn’t figure a way out of dealing with Sicoli’s men. Once she finished dressing, she opened the bottom drawer of her dresser and dug

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out her 9-mil from under all her shirts. She almost never took it out, but Lenny had made sure years ago that she knew how to use one. At the time, she’d thought it was sweet that he wanted to make sure she was able to protect herself. It didn’t take long to realize that using it to protect or cover him had probably been closer to his intentions. A real peach, that guy. She dropped the clip into her palm to check the bullets and then slammed it back up before double-checking the safety and tucking it under her pillow on the futon. She turned on Anchorman because it was already in the DVD player and it was a good choice for anyone who wanted to escape into the hilariously dumb. Unfortunately, even Ron Burgundy and one and a half glasses of

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whiskey couldn’t numb her enough to forget the last hour. Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, Kat rested her head in her hands. What the hell was she going to do? She’d never been the brains of this outfit. Well, neither had Lenny, but he’d always been the leader. He’d say it was time to go and she’d pack up their measly belongings and they’d head out in the Celebrity to the next town Lenny was sure would be both safe and a gold mine just waiting for them. We got eyes on you and ears with the pigs. The idea of Sicoli’s men watching her every move made the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She glanced at the windows looking out over Main Street. The

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dingy white curtains glowed with orange and red from the neon TATTOO sign below her windows. The guys who came collecting in Tennessee last time made it abundantly clear what would happen to her if they didn’t get their money. Sicoli couldn’t let debts go unanswered. It made him look lenient, weak. If the debtor couldn’t pay, he or she was eliminated. And apparently, as far as Sicoli was concerned, she owed the money just as much as Lenny. She was as good as dead. Kat had to try and make a run for it. Tomorrow was payday, though, and she’d need every bit of money she could get. She’d go to work like always, let them follow her home and think she was going to sleep. Then she’d

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pack everything she could in a backpack, wait a couple of hours, and sneak out the back. She’d have to leave the car behind and rely on public transportation or hitchhiking if necessary. Whatever it took to get as far away as possible. She’d be on her own for the first time in her life, her ties to Lenny and her old life completely severed. Even though that had been her goal for the last month, now that it was time to follow through, she felt like throwing up, and her entire body shook with fear. Then again, that could be because she also had the added pressure of a crime boss after her now. Either way, she’d run like hell until she couldn’t run anymore. The cell phone on top of her dresser started ringing, and her head snapped up. She’d

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had that phone for years, though Lenny didn’t know it. She had always left it off and kept it well hidden, but after he got arrested, she’d turned it on and left it out. Not that she ever answered it. Only one person had the number to that phone, and though it killed her to constantly avoid her sister, Vanessa would only try to involve herself, and Kat couldn’t let that happen. She waited for the chirp that signaled a new voice mail and then punched in the code to listen. “Hiya, Kitty-Kat.” Vanessa always sounded two parts happy and one part sad on her voice mails. Like she couldn’t be completely happy because of the distance—both physical and emotional—Kat kept between them. Every voice mail twisted the knife in Kat’s

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heart that had been there since the day Nessie left for college almost fifteen years earlier. “So, I’m sitting here making seating charts for the wedding. I really miss you, Kat, and even though I’m so happy with Jackson, the only thing that could make my wedding day perfect is having you there with me. If you call me, I’ll fly you out and fly you back to wherever it is you want to go, I promise. Just…” Sigh. “Listen, I’m going out of town tomorrow for a couple weeks. I’ll be unavailable by phone, but I’ll call you as soon as I get back, k? I love you, Kitty-Kat. ’Bye.” Hot tears singed Kat’s cheeks as they streamed down her face. Nessie had been Kat’s whole world growing up. A day didn’t go by that it didn’t kill her to not be in her life. And now that her sister had found the

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love of a good man—something neither of them had ever believed existed—she felt even more remorse that she couldn’t be there for Nessie to share in her happiness. Kat returned to the futon and stretched out on her side, hugging the Snuggie to her front and tucking it between her legs. It was too damn hot to wear a thick blanket with sleeves, but she couldn’t sleep unless she was at least holding onto something. When she was a little girl, it had been her stuffed animals or Nessie. Once she left home, she adapted to using the comforter or blanket or even another pillow to clutch in front of her. It didn’t matter, just so long as she didn’t feel so alone. She wiped away the tears and reminded herself that at least her sister had made it. If

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good things were truly possible for people like them, then she was glad they’d happened to Nessie. She was the pure one of the two, and she deserved every good thing the world had to offer. Kat, however, was too tainted by their past. It had touched her in ways it hadn’t Vanessa, and the results had stained her soul irreparably. Though Kat had made peace with that knowledge a long time ago, there were times when she couldn’t help but wish it could be different. That maybe she could find happiness with a man who would never hurt her. Someone like Irish. As her eyes drifted closed, Kat remembered the way he’d gently tilted her face up to his so he could look her in the eyes.

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And it was with that image that she finally, blessedly succumbed to sleep.

Chapter Four Aiden watched as Kat picked up a tray of drinks from the bar and wound her way through the customers, noting her unusually flustered behavior. Usually she worked her tables with an aloof grace and confidence. But at the moment, she reminded him of that kitten again. Her eyes constantly shifted, and she’d been startled more than once tonight. Her actions

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were classic paranoia. The question was, was it due to what happened with Mullineaux? Or the cryptic placemat threat he suspected in fact did belong to her? As though proving his point, she jumped when someone put a hand on her shoulder and she spilled an entire tray of tap beers. Aiden quickly made his way through the crowd, using his broad shoulders to push people to the side when they didn’t move fast enough for him. When he got there, Kat was in the middle of trying to calm a guy wearing a Skid Row T-shirt with apologies as she bent to pick up the broken pieces of glass. From the look of the guy’s pants, he’d caught the majority of the backsplash, and he was wicked pissed about it.

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Aiden stepped in front of Kat and got in Skid Row’s face. “Hey, back off, buddy. It was an accident. She said she was sorry.” “Sorry isn’t going to fix my pants, asshole. The dumb bitch should have been looking where she was going.” Aiden flexed his jaw and clenched his fists at his sides. One, two, three… It was a total cliché, but counting was one of his tricks that kept him from going Hulk, smash! on every idiot who pissed him off. That, and staying stone sober. But instead of calming him, the numbers felt more like a countdown to how much longer before he gave in to his inner monster. He needed to handle this differently before that happened. Signaling Xander to deal with the dick who was now insisting he and his friends

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drink free for the rest of the night, Aiden bent down to where Kat was trying to gather the broken glass onto her tray. “You okay?” he asked by her ear. Her body jerked and he could almost see the year of life he’d scared out of her leave her body. “Shit!” she said, dropping a large shard to the floor. He turned her hand over to see a big cut weeping bright red on the heel of her palm. “Come with me.” “Wait, I have to—” “No, you don’t,” he said, yanking off his white T-shirt and wrapping it around her hand. The way it was bleeding, she’d leave a trail all the way to the office. Aiden hauled her up with an arm around her waist and ushered her toward the back, despite her

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protests. Before they got to the hallway leading to the business end of the place, he told one of the bar-backs to go clean the mess before anyone else got hurt. Then he took Kat into Lou’s empty office and closed the door. “Will you please stop?” she said. “I’m fine.” “I’ll be the judge of that. Have a seat.” He grinned when he heard her huff in frustration while he retrieved the first-aid kit. She decided to sit on the desk instead of Lou’s chair, and he didn’t blame her. Lou was a large man, a profuse sweater, and not overly fond of showering on a daily basis. Opening the plastic case, Aiden took out all the supplies he needed and arranged them on the desk. “Let me see your hand.”

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Reluctantly, she held it up so he could unwrap his shirt. Once it was off, he tossed it in the trash. There’d be no saving it. He’d have to pay Lou for a replacement. Although, considering the only part that made it a uniform shirt was the “Lou’s Riverview” in black letters over his left pec, Aiden could just ink up one of his undershirts with a Sharpie and the old man would never know the damn difference. He ripped open several alcohol wipes and gently cleaned the blood from her hand, starting on the outside and working his way in. He tried like hell not to notice how her knees brushed against his thighs or how her soft breaths feathered over his hand as he tended her cut. Or how her long red hair fell like a silky

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curtain on either side of her face and she smelled like lilacs in the spring. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since she left in such a rush last night. Although, if he were being honest, from the first day he saw her working at Lou’s, he’d thought about her a lot more than he should. She was off-limits to him. Though she had a boyfriend, from what Aiden had observed in the month before the guy got locked up, they were about as much of a couple as Aiden and Xander. Aiden had a feeling if he wanted to get between them, her boyfriend wouldn’t even put up a fight. Which didn’t make any fucking sense, because if Aiden had a girl like that, he’d kill anyone who tried taking her from him.

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Hammer, meet nailhead. That whole killing thing was the reason he didn’t allow himself to consider her as anything other than a coworker. Aiden only did no-strings-attached, and there was something about this mysterious woman that told him one night—or even several nights—with her would never be enough. She sucked in a breath through clenched teeth when he carefully swiped a pad over the gash. Glancing up at her, he said, “That’s gonna need stitches.” Before he even finished the sentence, her head shook back and forth. “No, it won’t. Just wrap it up, and it’ll knit itself back together eventually.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, that would probably work if you didn’t need to move

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your hand for a few weeks. But if you wanna keep working, you need stitches or you’ll open the wound every time you move your thumb.” Her eyebrows pulled together, and she drew her full lower lip between her teeth and bit hard. “You afraid of needles and doctors?” “I don’t know,” she said softly, staring at the floor, her face paling beneath her peach freckles.

… “You’ve never been to the doctor?” The way he said dahctah would have made her smile if she wasn’t so petrified of the idea of seeing the inside of a hospital for the second time in her life. And she wasn’t

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about to tell him about her first visit. She shook her head and clamped her teeth on her lower lip as pieces of her past dug their way into the forefront of her mind. It wasn’t that she’d never had any reason to go to the doctor or hospital growing up. But when your parents were the reasons you needed to go, they usually weren’t too keen on taking you and risking a visit from the local authorities. “Okay, tell you what,” he said, lifting her chin to force her gaze to his like he’d done the night before. “I’ll get this wrapped up, and then I’ll take you to the hospital to get it taken care of properly. I’ll wait for you, take you home, and then call Xander to pick me up. That sound all right?” Something in her stomach fluttered as his

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sapphire eyes searched her face for an answer. What was it about Irish that could make her feel things she never thought she’d be capable of? Was it because he was a walking contradiction? On the outside, he looked like a pierced and tattooed-to-the-gills badass you wouldn’t want to meet in broad daylight, much less a dark alley. But if he saw her coming, he opened the door for her. If he thought she was being hassled by a customer, he stepped in. And every time he looked at her, she knew he’d never let anything hurt her as long as he was close. “You with me, kitten?” he asked, his voice soft and deep. Funny. He’d said something similar the night before when she’d started freaking out.

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Stay right here with me, kitten. At the time she’d thought it was meaningless, but now the little girl that still lived deep inside her cynical shell was sighing with starry eyes. Kat would have to be careful to keep that tiny part of herself in check. She swallowed and nodded. “Yes, okay,” she said in response to his offer. A shallow grin told her he was satisfied with her answer, and then he got to work opening up the antibiotic ointment and setting out some sterile gauze pads. While he played amateur doctor, she kept herself distracted by discreetly studying his body. It was amazing, but it wasn’t only due to his four-percent-body-fat physique. The man was a living canvas, covered in vibrantly colored tattoos. When he’d taken his shirt off

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she’d nearly lost her breath. She’d only seen his tattoo “sleeves” up to where his work T-shirts stretched over his muscular upper arms, plus the letters between his knuckles that spelled CAGE on his right hand and RAGE on his left. His left arm was a mural of ocean life. A lifelike octopus started at his shoulder with its tentacles swirling and reaching down his bicep. Everything from sea turtles to sea stars, from tropical fish to colorful coral filled in the rest of his arm, all the way around and down, and all surrounded by vivid blue water. The right arm had an Asian theme with a beautiful geisha over his upper arm and a samurai warrior covering his forearm. But the one she’d never seen before took

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up the majority of his chest. Centered over his sternum and spreading to cover part of each pectoral was a lotus flower in vivid greens, purples, and yellows on a background of bright blue Japanese-style waves that stretched across what remained of his chest. Above that, following the shallow arc of his collarbones and written in fancy script was what she assumed was his last name bracketed by Kelly green shamrocks. Kat had been so lost in studying the designs—not to mention the sexy-as-hell silver barbells he had in both of his nipples, she almost flinched in surprise when he spoke. “Does it hurt?” Did it? Hell, yeah. But when compared to her history of injuries, this barely rated a four on the severity scale. “A little.”

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He spread the last of the ointment. A dark eyebrow hitched up his forehead as he continued his nursing duties. “If either of my sisters had gotten cut like this, they’d have been screaming bloody murder.” She shrugged her right shoulder so she wouldn’t interfere with him placing the gauze pads on her left hand. “High pain tolerance, I guess.” His gaze landed briefly on the three-inch vertical scar that marked her below her collarbones. It was old and most people didn’t notice it. Then again, most people didn’t get as intimately close to her as Irish was now. She wished the uniform shirts weren’t Vnecks that practically put the mark on display, but Lou liked the girls flashing their cleavage, and in reality the more flashing,

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the better the tips. He grunted, though whether in agreement or disbelief, she wasn’t sure. Irish held the pads in place with one hand and reached for the roll of gauze with the other. He wrapped it around her palm and wrist, securing the makeshift bandage in place. “Feel okay?” “Yeah, thanks.” Her eyes settled on his chest again as he busied himself with putting all the supplies back in the kit. “O’Brien, huh?” Blue eyes peered through long, dark lashes for only a heartbeat before lowering to his task again. “Yeah,” he said with obvious hesitance. “You wanna even the score and tell me your real name?”

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Her spine stiffened. “What makes you think Sydney isn’t my name?” “Last night. You didn’t say, ‘I hate my name.’ You said, ‘that name.’ Plus,” he said, pinning her with a knowing look, “you have this thing every time someone uses it.” “A thing? What thing?” “I don’t know, like some sort of reaction. Like someone just insulted you or something.” Great, she thought. So much for using an alias to protect her identity. Good thing she didn’t have any dreams of becoming a famous actress. Apparently she sucked at being someone else. “If it makes you feel any better,” he offered, “I don’t think anyone believes you’re anyone other than who you claim to be.”

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Right. Except him. Oh, and Sicoli’s thugs, who were now here to kill her. She shook her head. “No offense, but being a really observant Good Samaritan doesn’t automatically earn you my trust.” Biting her lip, she looked down at her bandaged hand and felt like she’d slapped him in the face after he so diligently tended to her. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be. You’re right, it doesn’t.” Kat jerked her head up in surprise, but he didn’t notice because he’d already turned to put the first-aid kit away. Opening the coat closet, Irish rummaged around in a box until he emerged with one of the uniform T-shirts the coolers wore. “All right, I’m gonna go tell Xander we’re

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leaving,” he said, pulling the shirt on. “I saw Johnny by the pool tables. I’ll ask him to cover my shift for the rest of the night and then we can sneak out the back.” Sneak out the back… Shit! Being so close to him shirtless had short-circuited her brain to the point she’d forgotten she was supposed to be sneaking out the back of her apartment tonight to escape Sicoli’s clutches. She didn’t have time for the hospital; she had to stick to her plan. Or a slightly modified version where she left early without Irish. Kat nodded in feigned acquiescence and glanced from under her lashes at the locker holding her purse. “Don’t even think about it, kitten.” Her gaze snapped up. “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not letting you get outta this. If

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you get an infection, go septic, and die because of my shitty doctoring skills, the guilt will kill me. And you don’t wanna be responsible for my death now, do you?” His half smile said he was joking, but his eyes were dead serious. Though he had no reason, it was obvious he felt responsible for her and didn’t trust her not to leave. Lack of trust from the opposite sex was something she was very accustomed to. She tried to ignore the disappointment that he was no different than any other man after all. Even if his assumption was accurate. She needed to calculate her options. If she went with him, her plan would be delayed by a few hours and would probably be more difficult, but not necessarily impossible. If she didn’t go with him, then she’d have more

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time to get as far away as possible before taking shelter at dawn. But, if her hand did get infected, she’d have to go to a hospital for treatment, in which case she might as well leave a trail of breadcrumbs for Sicoli to find her. Kat hopped off the desk and crossed to where the employee lockers stood to the side of the door. She grabbed her knitted hobo purse and slung the long strap over her opposite shoulder, then tossed him her keys. Catching them in one hand, Irish studied her for a few seconds. “What?” she asked a little testily. “Now I can’t go anywhere until you get back.” Closing the few feet between them, he placed the keys against her un-bandaged palm and closed her fingers over them. “I’ll

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be back in five.” He trusted her? Kat couldn’t remember anyone other than Nessie ever trusting her before. Staring at the keys in her hand, she felt something tighten in her chest. “Hey, Irish?” “Yeah?” “If you want…” Before she could change her mind, she looked into his deep blue eyes, clutched her hope that this man could be trusted with a death grip, and bit the bullet. “You can call me Kat.” He canted his head slightly. “As in the adult version of kitten?” That made her smile. A little. “As in a shortened version of Katherine. With a K.” Bringing one hand up, he stroked his thumb along her jawline for the briefest of

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moments. “I’ll be back in five…Kat.” Then he turned and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him.

Chapter Five By the time they left the ER, it was after three in the morning. Kat had been petrified in the hospital, though she managed to do a pretty good job hiding it. When the nurse called her name to head back for her stitches, Aiden casually offered to go back with her so she “had some company.” The relief that flooded her eyes before she could feign indifference with a shrug—something he was

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beginning to realize she did often—spoke volumes. She’d done pretty well, all things considered. Though he was pretty sure his hand would disagree. If she’d squeezed it any harder he would’ve been sticking around to get it set in a cast. But ten minutes and twelve stitches later, exhaustion finally beat out anxiety. Or so he’d thought. She may have relaxed somewhat while they listened to the nurse go through aftercare instructions and waited to be released, but as soon as they stepped foot outside those hospital walls, her entire demeanor changed. Her back muscles strung taut under his hand where he guided her across the parking lot. Though she tried to be subtle, he

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could tell she was scanning the area for something, or someone. And when a nearby car alarm went off, she nearly jumped out of her skin. If her skittish behavior at work had been for fear Mullineaux would return, then there’d be no reason for her to still be anxious. Not to mention his gut was shooting up warning flares. He could feel the eyes on him like a scratchy tag on the back of his neck. But who was doing the watching? And why? They pulled out of the hospital parking lot and hadn’t gone very far before his suspicions were validated in the form of a tail. And not the furry kind. “What kind of trouble are you in?”

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She stopped biting her nails and cut him a sidelong glance from the passenger seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Cut the shit, Kat. You’ve been acting nervous all night. I wanna help you, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” She turned in her seat, putting her in the corner of the seat back and the door, and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t think last night is reason enough to be a little off my game today?” “Yeah, I do.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. Still there. “But I don’t think Mullineaux is the reason you’ve been looking over your shoulder.” Stopping at a red light, Aiden laid his hand on the back of her seat and turned to face her. “Don’t look now, but

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I’m guessing your problem is in the Cadillac XLR that’s been tailing us since we left the hospital.” Kat started to twist in her seat and do the very thing he’d told her not to do, but he’d been ready for that. He caught her face with his right hand and leaned in close to make it seem like they were merely kissing. “I said not to look. Now face forward and pretend like you don’t know they’re there. Got it?” She swallowed hard, then nodded her understanding just before the light turned green. Only a few blocks away from her apartment. He had to know what he was up against before he did anything. “Are they here because of your boyfriend?” She didn’t turn her head, but from the corner of his eye he saw her stiffen even

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more. “What do you mean?” “He’s in prison. Are these his buddies looking to cause trouble for anyone they suspect might be taking his place while he’s in the big house?” “Oh,” she said, studying her hands in her lap. “No, I don’t think they care one way or the other about that.” He gave a quick nod. “Good. You want me to lose them?” “You can’t.” “Why not?” “For multiple reasons.” Her tone was changing to one of aggravation. He liked that a hell of a lot better than the defeated one from before. “For starters, Mario Andretti couldn’t lose anyone driving this piece-ofcrap car.”

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“And if that wasn’t an issue?” She shook her head and peered into the side mirror. “There’s nowhere to go where they won’t find me now. Even if I could hide out for a day or two, it would only be stalling the inevitable.” Inevitable. He hated that fucking word. Mark my words, one of these days you’re gonna hurt someone with that temper of yours. It’s inevitable. Joey Patterson, his lifelong best friend, had been right. So goddamn right. And ever since, he’d done everything in his power to make sure it never came true again. “What’s inevitable?” he asked. Keeping her eyes turned to the window was her only answer. Whatever hot water she was in, it couldn’t be anything small.

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Aiden flexed his fingers and gripped the wheel until his knuckles blanched. He barely knew her, but the thought of anyone hurting this woman was enough to trigger his old instincts. He hadn’t felt the need to protect anyone since that night with Joey’s little sister— Don’t go there, asshole. Keep your head in this moment. “Fine, don’t tell me,” he said as they passed the turn to her street, “but we’re gonna do things my way.” “What exactly is your way?” “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I wanna help you.” He glanced over to meet her speculative gaze. “Can you trust me, Kat?” She didn’t speak for an endless half a minute where he counted the white dashes in

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the middle of the road like the ticking of a clock on fast-forward. Finally, she said, “What have I got to lose?” Not the encouraging answer he’d hoped for, but it’d do for now. Keeping to the speed limit, he continued until they got back to Lou’s. If these people were following her now, he could only assume they’d been following her before. Which meant they’d expect her to drop him off at the bar so he could pick up his bike and go home. As he predicted, when Aiden turned into the parking lot, the Caddy kept going. They’d probably turn around a ways up the road, pull off to the side, and kill their lights while they waited for Kat to go back home. He parked the Celebrity in the back and

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turned it off. “Come on,” he said. She got out of the car and met him around the back. “We’re going to hang out at work? I’m no expert or anything, but if I had to guess, I’d say this plan kind of sucks.” A wry grin twisted his lips. “That’s not the plan, kitten. Stay here a minute. I’ll be right back.” Using his keys, he ducked into the back of the bar and grabbed his helmet out of his locker. Usually he rode his Panhead, but he’d been tinkering around with the engine, so lately he rode his Suzuki GSX-R1000. He locked everything back up and crossed to where she stood by her car, arms crossed over her middle like she was trying to hold herself together. “Put this on.” She accepted the royal blue

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helmet and followed him to his bike. “Irish, I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but I don’t understand the point of going someplace new when they’ll just follow me there, too.” Aiden unlocked his seat and retrieved the clear glasses to protect his eyes from the wind, since he didn’t have another helmet. After sitting astride the bike and knocking back the kickstand, he took the helmet and helped her put it on so she wouldn’t tear her stitches. “You’re probably right,” he said, as she sat on the seat behind him. “But they’ll have to catch us first.” He inserted the key, flipped the switch, and pressed the start button. The engine roared to life, and he used the throttle to give it a couple of quick revs.

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Kat leaned forward, pressing the front of her body to his back and sliding her arms around his waist. Though it wasn’t the time or the place, he’d have to be missing a pulse not to feel the hard points of her nipples through their thin shirts, or how her groin fit against the curve of his ass. Stop thinking with your dick. He was looking into things too much. Trying to see and feel shit that wasn’t really there because it’d been so long since he’d had anything more than a superficial relationship. But those were the only kinds he could afford to have. He needed to focus on helping Kat and getting back to that simple and detached way of life. End of fucking story. She tightened her arms and something about the way she held him felt like more

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than just a way to stay on the bike. End of story? Yeah, right. “Hang on tight, kitten.”

… Kat’s stomach fluttered so hard she was positive he could feel it where she pressed against his back. Not only had she never ridden a motorcycle before, but now she worried they wouldn’t be able to shake Sicoli’s watchdogs and she’d only succeed in pissing them off for having to chase her. He turned his head to the side and looked at her from the corner of his eye through the clear wraparounds. “Relax, Kat. If you’re stiff it’ll make it hard for me to turn. All you need to do is lean when I lean, okay?” She nodded, unsure if he’d be able to hear her through the

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closed helmet. As he rode them through the parking lot, she felt a little silly for being so nervous. It wasn’t nearly as scary as she’d thought. They stopped where the gravel lot met the paved road. Kat turned her head to the right and squinted. She couldn’t see any sign of— Headlights switched on about a half mile down. Apparently seeing her break routine was enough reason to drop the espionage thing. Irish revved the engine several times, reminding her of a bull pawing at the ground in warning before charging those who threatened his territory. Then all at once the bike took off in the direction of the Cadillac. Her heart lodged in her throat, and she was fairly certain her stomach lay on the ground back at the

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entrance to Lou’s. Thank God she’d been holding on as tight as she was, or she’d be lying there next to it. Whoever sat behind the wheel of the car must have anticipated their move and put his foot to the floor. The tires spun, kicking up dirt as the ass end of the car swung around to point its nose right at the motorcycle. As soon as the tires caught purchase, it lurched into the street as though trying to cut them off. Kat screamed and squeezed her eyes shut, preparing to feel her bones shatter to dust from the impact, but all she felt was a quick right-left swerve of the bike and then…nothing. Well, nothing different. She still felt the vibrating hum beneath her and she definitely felt Irish’s hard body against her smaller one.

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Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes to see the landscape rush by in a blur of shadows on either side. Laughter bubbled in her chest, but where it came from or why now was an appropriate time for it to surface, she hadn’t the slightest idea. Before she had the chance to let it out, twin beams of light crept up around them. Kat glanced back to find the Cadillac slowly gaining on them, choking her burst of joviality at its source. “Irish!” “I got this!” he threw over his shoulder. Serious doubt filled her veins with ice as the car was now less than two lengths behind them. She had no idea how fast they were going, but surely this couldn’t be the fastest they could go. Weren’t crotch rockets known

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to be fast as hell? Just as she started to contemplate the scraps of knowledge she had about the machine under her, a familiar yellow street sign snagged her attention. Oh, shit. Death Wish Turn. So far they’d been on a complete straightaway, but up ahead lived a hairpin turn that got its nickname twenty-odd years ago when a local teen took it going too fast, wrecked his car, and died. Everyone said he knew better and therefore must’ve had a death wish. Kat’s life might not be caviar dreams and champagne wishes, but she sure as hell didn’t have a death wish. “Slow down! You’re going to get us killed!” Before she had time for a second appeal, Irish leaned deep to the right and she had no

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choice but to do the same. They leaned until she swore they were more than half the distance to the ground, and visions of them falling from the bike and losing their skin to the gravelly back road sent tremors down her spine. But even with the din of gloom-anddoom thoughts racing in her mind, logic stayed in the forefront, assuring her that Irish knew exactly what he was doing and despite their crazy angle, the bike was taking the super-tight turn with inexplicable grace and speed. The Cadillac wasn’t so lucky. The sounds of squealing tires and brakes locking up reached her even through the thick helmet, followed by a crash and crunching metal. She didn’t dare look back. It was enough that the beams of light no longer stabbed the

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darkness around them. Irish let up on the gas, taking them from warp speed to merely light speed, allowing her stomach to settle…ish. She’d always wondered why some women chose to ride on the back of a motorcycle instead of riding their own. But wrapped around Irish with the vibrations from the engine radiating through her body, she understood. Though they were barely more than acquaintances, there was an intimacy in riding this way. The ridges of his abs undulated beneath her splayed hands as he leaned in different directions to move with the bike. Her breasts were pinned against his back, and with her tight skirt riding up her splayed legs, the sensitive area between her thighs

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pressed into his ass. Every move he made was like a sensual touch that shot pulses of electricity through her erogenous system. It made her feel all tingly and needy. And frustrated as hell because she didn’t know what to do about any of it. About fifteen minutes later, they turned off the main road onto a graveled drive that wound its way through a tunnel of Spanish moss hanging from the bordering cypress trees. They came to a stop in front of a small ranch home, almost cabin-like, with dark wood siding and a wide front porch. Off to the left was a garage and an old barn. Irish cut the engine and helped her off the back before doing the same. The way he swung his leg over the back of the bike made her think of a modern-day knight

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dismounting from his armored steed. Oh, hell. Maybe her hand wasn’t the only thing to have been damaged earlier. Her common sense had taken a serious hit, too, if thoughts of him—or any man for that matter—as some sort of white knight come to rescue her from her stone tower were flitting through her head. He helped her out of the helmet, and she prayed her cheeks weren’t as flushed from the ride as they felt. “Come on,” he said, turning to walk up the porch steps. “Let’s get you inside before Hissing Ally wants to investigate the newcomer.” Following him, she tried to run her fingers through the knotted ends of her hair before giving up, snapping an elastic off her wrist

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and throwing her hair up into a sloppy ponytail-bun-thing. “Who’s Hissing Ally?” “A stray with an attitude problem. She hangs out under the porch.” Pulling open the squeaking screen door, he paused and gave her a half grin. “She’s okay with Xander and me because we ply her with chicken, but she’s not real friendly to strangers.” “Maybe she’ll like me,” she said. “I’m pretty good with cats.” He chuckled and opened the heavy door, holding it open to let her in first. “I bet you are.” Kat walked in and looked around, trying to decide if the place matched what she knew of the man. It didn’t take her long to come up with an answer. No.

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If she were a real-estate agent, she’d advertise it as an open floor plan. Mainly because there weren’t any walls in the main living area. The kitchen on the right was sectioned off only by a small dining set sitting in the middle of the room. It looked like it originated from a secondhand store and had then been given to a pack of teething puppies as a chew toy. The living room took up the left half of the room. A couch and loveseat upholstered in buttery-brown leather were placed perpendicular around a gigantic matching ottoman. Scratch that. The ottoman was merely large. The flat-screen TV was gigantic. She briefly wondered if men were known to compensate for certain things with electronics like they did with fancy cars. The

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shirtless image of Irish stood proud and masculine behind her eyes… No way. Along the back wall, three doors were spread out in equal increments as though they should have signs with bold numbers on them, offering people one of three choices like on a game show. “This is nice,” she said lamely. “Xander likes the creature comforts in life,” he said. “Everything in here is his?” “No.” He pointed to the dining set. “That’s my contribution.” She smiled widely. “Ah. So that would make you Oscar.” “Excuse me?” “You know, Felix and Oscar from The Odd Couple.” She waited for recognition to set in.

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When all she got was a hitch of his eyebrow, she added, “It was a Broadway play, movie, and TV show about two roommates. Felix is a clean freak who likes nice things and Oscar is super laid back and kind of a slob.” He braced his feet shoulder-width apart and folded his arms across his broad chest. “Did you just call me an uncivilized slob?” She slapped a hand over her mouth and felt her eyes go wide. He’d helped her more in the last six hours than anyone had in the last six years, and she’d insulted him in less than six minutes of being in his home. Her social etiquette wasn’t merely lacking. It was practically nonexistent. “Irish, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that. I didn’t mean anything by it, honest.” “I’m kidding,” he said, breaking his tough-

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guy routine with a sexy smile. “Besides, the Felix and Oscar thing is pretty accurate. Xan bitches at me all the time.” He hadn’t gotten offended or angry. He hadn’t thrown back an insult of his own or kicked her out of his house to sleep with Hissing Ally under the porch. It was…not what she was used to. She actually had to stop and think how to react. Kat settled on taking a deep breath and giving her muscles the command to relax. The breath went well. Filling her nose and lungs with the spicy scent of Irish’s home helped clear her mind, like hitting a mental reset button. The command to her muscles was blatantly ignored, but she’d known they wouldn’t comply. She couldn’t remember a

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time in her life when she’d ever felt relaxed. Constant muscle pain was her “normal.” The feel of callused fingertips brushing her jawline from ear to chin sent shivers down her spine and goose bumps down her arms. But when those fingertips lifted her chin and his deep blue eyes found hers, the shivers turned to sparks, heating her from the inside out until every goose bump had melted back into her flesh. “Kat?” “Huh?” All coherence had fled her. She’d been lucky she’d made any sort of sound whatsoever. She’d never realized how beautiful he was. And she meant “beautiful.” Because for all of his ruggedness with the tattoos, the piercings, and the ever-present scruff he sported, Irish had very aristocratic

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features. His forehead was wide and smooth until it revealed the three lines that creased from one side to the other whenever he raised his brows. High cheekbones framed a long, straight nose that refuted her assumption he’d lived a life where a few breaks from neighborhood brawls would be expected. His lips were a perfect match, equally full and tempting, and hiding in his barely there beard was a cleft in the center of his chin that deepened when he smiled. But his eyes were the most stunning things she’d ever seen. Almond-shaped and lined with thick black lashes, they would have looked feminine if it weren’t for the hard edge emanating from them. If someone asked her to describe the

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color, she’d call it “fire and ice.” Yes, she knew that wasn’t any color Crayola had ever defined, but that’s what they reminded her of. Sometimes they were an icy blue that could freeze the biggest asshole in mid-swing and cause him to rethink his actions. Kat had thought his eyes were his secret weapon as a cooler on more than one occasion. And other times—like right now—they reminded her of blue fire, the hottest part of a flame, with the power to melt anything in their path. Including her. “Kitten,” he whispered, “you with me?” Nickname, plus three simple words she’d started to believe were only for her, equaled butterflies and warmth in her chest she couldn’t remember ever having before.

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She nodded slowly. “Yes, I’m with you.” “Good.” His hand lowered and wrapped around her good one. “You’ve had a long coupla days. We can talk about things after you’ve gotten some rest. You can have my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.” She’d barely opened her mouth to protest when he held his hand up and started leading her to the door on the left she’d thought of as Door #1. “No arguments. I might be rough around the edges, but I’m not a total asshole.” Kat’s heart raced as they got closer and closer. His bedroom. His bed. His domain. Locked door. No escape. She teetered dangerously between flight or freeze. Most people had flight or fight responses, but she’d learned a long time ago

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that fighting only made the inevitable worse. If she didn’t force herself into flight mode fast, she’d freeze, and then the safety she’d felt so far with Irish would vanish like a morning fog burned off from the sun. Digging her heels in and yanking her hand from his, she said, “No, you don’t understand. I can’t.” He narrowed his eyes as though trying to crack a code on an encrypted message, which was as close to the truth as anything. “You can’t?” She took two small steps back while shaking her head. “I’ll be fine on the couch, really.” “Kat,” he said gently, “I’m not gonna come in there, I swear. I’ll stay out here.” She believed him, she really did. But she

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couldn’t help it. She couldn’t willingly put herself in a position of such vulnerability for bad memories to come crawling out of the shadows to haunt her. “Please, Irish. Just let me take the couch.”

Chapter Six After showering and throwing on a pair of black jersey shorts, Aiden sat at his shitty kitchen table, drinking a cup of black coffee, and tried not to stare at Kat sleeping on his couch. He’d given her one of his shirts to wear, but it lay unused on the ottoman. Her beat-up tennis shoes sat in an orderly fashion on the floor next to her. The lightweight blanket he’d brought out for her was

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wrapped tightly around her and her knees were drawn up to her chest. She looked like a human chrysalis, but he had a feeling she would awaken no different than before: scared, troubled, and extremely distrusting. Please, Irish. Just let me take the couch. When she’d pleaded with him like that, his gut twisted and he wanted to murder whatever haunted those light blue eyes. He lifted his mug and took a big swallow of the bitter brew. Looked like he’d jinxed himself when he told Jax that odds were nil of anything happening with Kat, and now Jax was unreachable for two fucking weeks. He’d have to figure out how to help her on his own. Man, he’d really fucked up. He’d agreed to

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watch Kat for a few weeks and report back to her sister, not get involved in her life. That was exactly the thing he swore five years ago he wouldn’t do anymore. Instead of helping, he only ended up hurting them. Or worse. But despite that promise he made himself five years ago, he couldn’t stay away from a certain red-haired woman with eyes like brilliant topaz. As though they’d sensed his thoughts, Kat’s eyes opened to look at him from across the room. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. Quarter to two. Good. That meant she’d had about ten hours or so. “Afternoon, kitten.” Her arms emerged from her blanket cocoon, and she pushed into a sitting position

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in the corner of the couch. She kept her knees up to her chest. He wondered if that was simply a comfortable position for her or an unconscious attempt to protect herself. She tucked her long hair behind her ears before wrapping her arms around her legs. “Hi. I’m sorry I slept so long. You should have woken me.” “Only been up about ten minutes myself. You sleep okay?” “You know,” she said, her brows drawn in, “I did actually. Usually I don’t sleep much if I’m not in my own place. I must have been really exhausted.” “You want coffee?” “Mmm, God, yes. Black, please.” She unfolded from the couch and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor. Even un-

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showered and sleep-tousled, she managed to look beautiful. For the few seconds she passed through the window’s slanted square of sunlight, she transformed into some kind of sun goddess. Her hair blazed like fiery embers and her freckles looked backlit by the glow of her translucent skin. When the shadows in the room dulled the mystical features his overactive imagination had given her, Aiden gave himself a mental right hook. The typical mental slap wasn’t near what he needed to tamp down the insanity that was becoming a regular thing in his head around this woman. He needed to man the fuck up and see her as what she was: his friend’s future sister-in-law in need of help. Because that was all she could ever be to him.

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Aiden poured her a cup of coffee and set it in front of her. She grabbed it with both hands, blew across the surface for a few seconds, and then took a small sip. Her eyelids slid closed and she made a sound that made him think of anything but drinking coffee. Before his imagination got carried away (again), he decided it was time to get answers. He’d involved himself in something big, and if he had any hope of keeping them both above water, he needed to know what they were dealing with. “It’s time we talk, Kat.” The blissed-out look on her face disappeared. She lowered her gaze, bit the corner of her lip, and drew up one leg to hug to her chest. But then nodded her agreement.

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“Who were those guys tailing us last night? What do they want?” Taking a deep breath, she said, “They work for a man Lenny owes money. We skipped town to avoid his debt, ended up here, and managed to stay off grid.” “Until your boyfriend got arrested and it went on public record?” She nodded. “So when did they show up in Alabastard?” She quirked a brow in his direction. “Not a fan of the city?” “Not particularly, no.” The chipped edge of the table suddenly became of great interest to her. She poked at it with her nail. “I don’t know how long they’ve been here, but they made themselves

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known on Friday night just before I left work.” “The note you said wasn’t yours.” “Yeah,” she said before taking another drink of coffee. “I found it on my windshield.” “How much does your boyfriend owe this guy?” He wouldn’t have thought it possible for someone with as light a complexion as Kat’s to pale. She lifted the mug to her lips and took a fortifying sip as though the strength of the beans could give her the strength to continue the conversation. Apparently it didn’t give her enough to meet his gaze. Boring a hole through the center of the table, she said, “Twenty thousand.” He let out a low whistle. “That’s a decent

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amount of scratch. They charging interest?” Her eyes finally lifted. “Do they do that?” “Depends on who you owe, I suppose.” Her foot still on the floor started bouncing. “Look,” he said, leaning over his forearms on the table. “I’m gonna do whatever I can to help you, but you gotta tell me what we’re up against here.” “Why?” “Why what?” “Why do you want to help me?” Aiden leaned back in his chair, wondering what to say when he didn’t know the answer himself. He drummed his thumb on the table a few times, then half shrugged. “Maybe I have a superhero complex or I’m an adrenaline junkie. Or maybe I find it hard to turn my back on a friend in need.” Even if you’d

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be better off if I did. “You barely know me.” “I know you don’t deserve to deal with the repercussions of your boyfriend’s bad decisions by yourself.” Kat seemed to be turning things over in her head. Probably weighing options and consequences. He drained the rest of his now-cold coffee and tried to practice the patience he didn’t have. Old feelings bubbled just beneath the surface. The ones that demanded he act and make her threat go away by whatever means necessary. “His name is Antony Sicoli,” she said at last. “He used to be a big-time mob guy in New York before he decided he preferred the picturesque mountains of Tennessee. Lenny borrowed money, gambled big, and lost even

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bigger. Now Sicoli wants his money back.” He dragged a hand over his face and scratched his jawline. He’d been hoping she’d say it was a small-time bookie, but he’d known better after what he had to do just to shake the apes the night before. “Then, yeah, you can expect them to want more than twenty grand for skipping town. The mob typically takes offense to that sort of thing. And if I’m not mistaken, the note said they’ve got someone on the inside with the cops and you have until tonight to come up with the money?” “Yeah, that about sums it up.” “How much do you have?” “None. Since Lenny got locked up, all I have is an emergency fund so I could get out of here. Something tells me they won’t be

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amenable to settling with a few measly hundred bucks.” Aiden got up from the table and poured himself another cup of coffee while he let things roll around in his head. That anyone could expect an innocent woman to take the fall for her asshole boyfriend’s mistakes was seriously fucked up. Unfortunately, morals didn’t come into play when dealing with callous criminal bosses like this Sicoli character. The only people who mattered to a guy like that were his own family members. The rest of the world consisted of pawns to move around in his game of making money, and if any pawn dared lose his money, the pawn was taken out of the game. Permanently.

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Turning around, he leaned his hips against the counter and took a sip of coffee. “So what’s the plan?” Kat let out a half-scoff, half-snort sound. The kind made when desperation clashed with hopelessness. “You mean, short of robbing a bank?” Aiden studied her as she got up with her mug and crossed to the counter next to him and placed it in the sink. Then she ran the water and started washing it. He would have told her she didn’t need to do that, but she had the same look Mary Catherine used to get. He could always tell when something bothered his younger sister. She cleaned until you could see your reflection in every surface. As she soaped and rinsed the mug for the

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third time, she said, “My plan was to give them the slip last night and leave town.” Absently wresting his full cup from his hand, she emptied it and restarted her process. He supposed he didn’t need the extra caffeine anyway. “Which,” she continued, “I guess I did, but not in the way I’d expected. Now I don’t know how I’m going to get any of my stuff, or the money, or—” “Kat.” Aiden cut her off before her anxiety reached critical mass. Taking the mug from her, he put an end to her nervous ritual and turned her to face him. “I know it sounds tempting, but you can’t spend your life running from your past.” Yeah. He didn’t miss the irony of him doling out that particular brand of advice. At

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least his past could only haunt him mentally and emotionally. Kat’s would kill her if it ever caught up with her. “I didn’t plan on running forever,” she argued. “Just until I make it to somewhere I can hide. I hear Mexico is lovely this time of year.” “Sweetheart, the devil himself wouldn’t vacation in Mexico in the middle of August.” Crossing her arms and lifting her chin, she said, “That’s not the point.” “You’re right, it’s not. The point is, if you run now, you’ll wake up every day for the rest of your life wondering if today is the day they find you. Looking over your shoulder will become something you do so often you’ll forget which direction is forward. That’s no way to live, Kat.”

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“I don’t have a choice, Irish. What else am I supposed to do?” “Let me help you.” “What? No way. Are you crazy?” “Probably, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” “Forget it. I’m not dragging you into this.” “I’m already in. I got in up to my eyeballs when I put you on the back of my bike last night.” “I know, and now if something happens to you…” Her chin quivered as she did her damnedest to hold back the deluge of emotions passing over her face. She must have decided to go with anger because suddenly, using her good hand, she hammer-fisted him in the chest several times for emphasis with her words. “Damn it, Irish, you should have

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minded your own fucking business!” Aiden banded his arms around her and held her tight as she tried to fight him with an exhausted strength as fierce as the nickname he’d given her. In mere seconds she gave in, accepting his embrace as silent tears fell unchecked over her cheeks and down his chest. One hand tucked her head under his chin while the other slid up and down her back to soothe and hopefully slow her breathing to match his strokes. He surprised himself at how natural it felt to console her, to be there for her. Crying women had always scared the hell out of him. He never knew what to do or say. Normally, he’d awkwardly ask them not to cry or try plying them with things to make

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them smile again. But comforting Kat and holding her in his arms felt so…right. After several minutes, her tears ran dry until she was simply tucked against him, her arms still pinned between their bodies. She whispered so softly, he almost didn’t hear her. “You should have left me alone.” If it wasn’t for the danger she was in, she’d be right. But it wouldn’t be for his sake. It’d be for hers. “Something tells me you’ve been left alone enough,” he said against her hair, his voice coming out as little more than a raspy growl. “I’m stepping in, whether you like it or not, kitten.” She tipped her head back, their gazes

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colliding. With a furrowed brow, she seemed to search for some sign she hadn’t misheard him. Aiden wondered how many people had let this woman down in the past to put that look of uncertainty on her face. He vowed to himself never to be on that list. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Aiden gently held the sides of her face and wiped the last of her tears away with his thumbs. “I’m not walking away from this,” he said. “I’m not walking away from you. Okay?” She nodded almost imperceptibly, but the understanding that dawned on her beautiful face solidified their unspoken agreement. She would let him help her, which meant he wouldn’t have to go behind her back to do it.

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Which was one less lie, one less hidden truth. The lower he kept that count, the better. Aiden watched her gaze skim down his face and stop at his mouth. Now that the other stuff was out of the way, their current situation of a half-dressed, close embrace started stirring things up on a more physical level. Her hands relaxed and flattened on his chest and grazed his piercings. The slight touch on his sensitive nipples sent a shock of heat straight to his balls. Their breaths became shallow and mingled together in the few inches that separated their lips. The smell of coffee mixed with her lilac scent created a potent mix of old and new addictions. His heart raced and stomach clenched, and in seconds she’d know how much he wanted her as his cock grew harder between

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them at just the thought of tasting those sweet lips. He shifted his hands so his fingers splayed into her hair and cradled her head, then he slowly lowered his face to hers. The pulse in her neck leaped. Her lids drifted closed. And though it felt like an eternity, his lips were finally, finally, a hairsbreadth from knowing her kiss. But at the last moment, Kat turned her face to the side. Reality crashed in around him and doused his arousal. Mostly. Aiden released her and stepped back. What an asshole. Not only was she vulnerable and probably not thinking clearly, but she had a boyfriend. Just because the guy was doing time and didn’t come off as much of a Prince Charming didn’t give

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Aiden the right to make a move on her. Not that he was respecting the boundary for the guy’s sake. He could give two shits about him. But he respected Kat, and even if he couldn’t understand her reason, the truth of the matter was she’d chosen to be with Lenny. So he’d keep his hands—and his lips—to himself. He might be a lot of things, but a man who took advantage of a woman wasn’t one of them. Being raised by his mother and helping care for two sisters ensured he acted like a gentleman, even if he’d never looked like one. “Sorry, that was—” Aiden cleared his throat and stared at a knot in the wood floor. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have—”

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“It’s okay,” she said, folding her arms around her middle. “Don’t worry about it; it’s no big deal.” Wanting more and more a woman he couldn’t have was a huge deal. But he’d just have to embrace the blue balls until this thing was over. “Do you wanna take a shower? My sister left a pair of her sweats here, and you can wear that T-shirt I gave you. Not the fanciest of outfits, but at least it’ll be clean.” “That’d be great, thanks.” Aiden nodded, then crossed to the bathroom to get her set up with everything she’d need. Xander even kept extra toothbrushes on hand for when he had overnight guests. Aiden hadn’t needed anything like that. There hadn’t been a woman who caught his

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attention since he laid eyes on a certain redheaded waitress. And at the rate his interest in her was climbing, he’d be lucky to look at another woman ever again.

… Kat finger-combed her damp hair in front of the bathroom mirror and cursed her old habit of turning her face before a man could kiss her. Not that her aversion for kissing had magically gone away, but she could have guided his mouth somewhere else if she hadn’t let herself go on autopilot. God help her, but Kat wanted Irish’s lips on her skin so badly. To know how it felt to have a man like him—a man who cared enough to help a virtual stranger in a

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dangerous situation—touch her. Not as something to be used and discarded. But as though she were his lover. Cherished. Revered. Respected. And she’d been so close. The fresh scent of his soap lingering from his shower had drawn her in like a magnet. Her stomach had fluttered as Irish had bent over her. It felt like five years rather than five seconds for him to close the space between them. She’d closed her eyes and lost herself in the moment. When a sudden chill had settled over her, she opened her eyes to find he’d let her go and taken a step back, glancing everywhere in the room but at her. All thanks to old instincts. Then again, maybe he’d simply come to

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his senses at the last second. Getting involved with a plain waitress in trouble with the Tennessee mafia—if that’s what they called themselves—wasn’t a good idea no matter how you looked at it. She never should have let herself think she could have even a sliver of the fantasy. Stupid, stupid girl. Kat checked her borrowed outfit one more time. What Irish referred to as sweatpants were actually a nice pair of black Capri yoga pants. The comical part was the large black T-shirt that hung to her knees with white block letters across her chest that declared her as TATTOOED AND EMPLOYED. Clothing as a subtle thumbing of one’s nose at those who would judge a man by his cover. If she had to guess, she’d say it was

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either a misguided gift from a concerned relative or a gag gift from a good friend. Subtlety wasn’t exactly Irish’s way. She pictured him giving people the finger if they looked at him wrong. She snapped off two of the several hair elastics she always had on her wrist and used one to throw her hair up into a ponytail. Then she gathered the excess material of the enormous T-shirt at her waist, doubled it over, and used the other elastic to secure it so she no longer drowned in cotton. Sighing, she grabbed the doorknob. She had to face her failed make-out humiliation eventually. Holding her head high, she entered the main room but found it empty. Disappointment at not seeing Irish squashed any remaining embarrassment.

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He must have gone outside, though why he’d willingly go out in this heat she had no idea. Only one way to find out. Slipping on her shoes, she stepped onto the porch and took a second to acclimate to the suffocating humidity. In the distance, heat waves blurred the gravel drive lined with thick layers of moss-draped trees. Clanging sounds came from the direction of the garage. Smiling, Kat jogged down the rickety stairs and halfway to the garage when something in the grass caught her eye and stopped her cold. Five feet away from her, the biggest alligator Kat had ever seen was either sunning itself or laying in wait for a clueless city girl to happen by and offer herself up as lunch. With its mouth wide open and making an

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awful hissing sound, the beast took a deliberate step in her direction. She held her breath for fear even that might antagonize it somehow. What the hell was she supposed to do? Run? Stare it down? Play dead? Hypnotize it with a flute? She’d never watched Crocodile Hunter and couldn’t remember a damn thing from the one time she saw Crocodile Dundee. It took another step. Right then, Kat made a solemn vow to watch as much Animal Planet as possible until she knew how to survive every living species she would ever encounter, and even some she wouldn’t. When she tried taking a step back, the alligator reacted with several quick moves in her direction. Which was when she fucking

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lost her shit and screamed like a little girl. Irish, ever her savior, bolted out of the garage. “Knock it off, girl. Back up!” She willed herself to obey, but the last time she tried that, it charged, so her body refused to comply. He bravely placed himself between her and the reptile, but the last thing she wanted was for him to get eaten protecting her. “Let’s make a run for the front door.” “Nah.” He peered back over his shoulder. “She’s just being bitchy ’cause she doesn’t know you. I told you she doesn’t like strangers.” “Who doesn’t?” He nodded at the alligator. “Ally.” The lightbulb over her head lit up. Her mouth fell slack. “Are you telling me that this

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gigantic lizard threatening to eat me and use my bones as toothpicks is Hissing Ally? You told me she was a cat!” “No, I didn’t. You assumed she was a cat. I didn’t see any reason to worry you after the day you had yesterday. Come on.” Irish grasped her hand in his much larger one and tugged her in the direction of the garage. She did her best to bring her pulse to a healthier rate along the way. By the time he provided a sturdy box for her to sit on and returned to his place on the stool by his Harley, Kat had nearly recovered. Then he leveled those intense blue eyes on her and gave her appearance a once-over. It seemed a normal heart rate would be next to impossible when she was with this man. His gaze hovered over her chest, and her cheeks

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flushed with heat. Trying to draw his attention somewhere else, she gestured lamely to the T-shirt ponytail she’d made. “Um, I hope you don’t mind. I did this to make it fit better. I’m smallish and you’re pretty huge…” He stared at her, not moving, not saying a word. She demonstrated by wrapping her hand around the bunched cotton. “I mean, look. It’s so big I can barely close my fingers around it.” Irish coughed behind his fist as he shifted, like he was uncomfortable on his low stool. When he spoke, his voice came out even more gruff than usual. “Kitten, you’re going to inflate my ego to dangerous levels with all that talk about me being so big.” She squeezed her eyes shut and wished for a hole to swallow her up. “Oh my God. I

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didn’t mean it to sound like that.” A low chuckle caressed her eardrums and slid into her brain. “Relax, I know what you meant. I was just giving you shit.” He was teasing her? God, when was the last time she’d had some good-natured teasing? Probably not since Nessie, which was a lifetime ago. How sad was that? Irish mentioned having sisters. He probably teased them all the time growing up. She wondered if she could drop her defenses enough to remember how to tease him back. That could be fun. Normal, even. And wouldn’t that be a miracle. He’d changed into a holey pair of faded jeans and white tank, both of which were smeared in grease with his shirt sporting the bonus V of sweat in the front and back. His

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hair fell over his forehead in small chunks at different intervals. Needing a distraction before she started drooling, she scanned the garage. A makeshift table made of plywood and construction horses held various tools and gadgets and grease-stained rags. Several buckets held other tools and tool accessories, but nothing seemed to be in any sort of order. “You haven’t been here very long. How’d you get all this stuff?” “This is all my stuff from home. Xander brought it with him.” “How do you find anything you need?” she asked. He glanced around the room as though trying to figure out what she meant. “I know where everything is,” he said defensively as

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he set down one tool and went to grab for another. But just short of picking anything up, he paused, furrowed his brow, and looked around several times. “Mostly,” he mumbled. Kat tried muffling her chuckle, but it didn’t work. He narrowed his eyes at her. “This further proves your Oscar theory, doesn’t it?” “Just a little,” she said with a wry smile, showing him about an inch gap between her thumb and forefinger. “Honestly, though, I don’t even know why that reference came to mind. I haven’t thought about that show since I was a little girl. I used to watch it late at night as a distraction from…” “Distraction from what?” No way was she finishing that sentence, much less that thought. The memories of

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watching the show with Nessie were good ones. But the reasons they watched it weren’t, and she had no desire to revisit them any time soon. Or ever. “Why is your left arm covered in images of ocean life?” Irish arched his brow in a way that told her he recognized the blatant subject change. Luckily, he was nice enough to go along with it. “My uncle lived in the Florida Keys and ran a scuba diving business. He’d send my mom these gorgeous pictures of the things he saw while diving.” He studied his tattoos as though reliving seeing the pictures for the first time. “And, I don’t know. I guess only ever seeing my neighborhood growing up, I was intrigued by the idea that something like

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that existed. It wasn’t just another place, but a whole other world.” Kat understood what he meant. She’d felt something similar. Only, instead of wishing to see dolphins and sea turtles, she’d wished to know what it was like to have loving parents. But that wasn’t something you permanently inked in your skin. “So,” she said, “the tattoos remind you of the daydreams you had as a boy of experiencing that life for yourself. Of the fascination you had with a world other than the one you knew.” He half grinned before turning his attention back to his bike. “You make it sound kinda girlie, but I guess that’s about right.” The sentimentality hung over them like a heavy blanket, making it hard for her to

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breathe. She needed another subject change. Preferably one a little lighter in nature. “You know, I thought about what you said earlier. You’re right. Moving to Mexico is a horrible idea. I mean, look at me. I’d stick out like a sore thumb. But Scotland, on the other hand, is the perfect place for me to blend in. No one would look twice at me there.” “What about your boyfriend?” he said with a quick sidelong glance. “Don’t you think you oughta wait till he can go with you?” She recognized the set-up question because she got it all the time. It was a way for people who didn’t know her well to gauge the circumstances of her relationship with Lenny. Some of them wanted to know their

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chances of getting in her pants. Some wanted to know if they could shake her down for information. Some wanted to know how much she meant to him so they could use her for leverage to get what they wanted from him. The question-asker always had an agenda, and her ability to determine which one they had so she could answer appropriately was a necessity for survival. But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out Irish’s agenda. A voice in her head screamed at her to tell him the truth, if only about this one thing. So she did. “Lenny’s not really my boyfriend.” That got his full attention. “He’s not?” She shook her head. “Well, he was a long time ago, but not for the last…” She counted back in her head. “Eight years or so.”

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“So why do you tell people you’re together?” Kat shrugged and absently studied her nails. “Easier, I guess. It’s not like I was in the dating pool or anything.” “I don’t get it. Why would you stick with him for so long, then?” “Because I was too scared to live on my own, and I had nowhere else to go.” Wow, that sounded a lot less pathetic in my head. “Nowhere?” he asked skeptically. It was a loaded question, whether he knew it or not. Technically, she could’ve gone to Nessie—how many times had her sister asked her to come live with her?—but Kat never let herself consider the option. Vanessa had been studying to become a lawyer and then working getting her career off

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the ground. She didn’t need her broken younger sister dragging her down in the process. And now that Kat was in serious trouble with a man who made hurting people’s loved ones look like a hobby, she sure as hell wasn’t bringing any of that to Nessie’s door. So that left only one answer to his question. “Nope. Nowhere,” she said. “But since Lenny went to jail, I’ve learned that I can stand on my own two feet. So that’s exactly what I plan to do. I need to live for me now.” A couple of minutes passed before he answered, so she started to think she’d said something to upset him. But then he gave her a warm half grin and said, “I think you living for yourself is a great idea. And if you wanna move to Scotland when this is all

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done, that’s fine. But first we’re going to make sure you’re free and clear of this Sicoli guy, so you don’t have to look over your shoulder. Okay?” “And how do you propose we do that?” “I’m gonna go talk to the guys we ditched.” Her brows knitted together as she waited for him to finish. When he didn’t… “I’m sorry, I don’t get it. What’s the punch line?” “No punch line.” “Irish, after what we pulled last night, you’ll be as good as dead. Besides, how would you even get to them? We have no idea where they are.” “Don’t have to. I’ll go to your apartment. They’ll come to me.” “And then what? Ask them to pretty please tell their boss not to come after me

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anymore?” “You don’t think it’ll work?” Kat’s eyes bugged out of her head. Was he effing seri— A slow grin lifted one side of his mouth as he continued to work on his bike. He was teasing her again. Despite the fact that the subject matter was nothing to joke about, a small dose of giddy spread through her. “Jerk,” she said as she punched him in the arm. Or what appeared to be an arm but actually felt like a two-by-four. He hadn’t even tightened up in defense, he was that solid. She’d never seen him have to throw punches at the bar like Xander sometimes did, but she couldn’t imagine taking a hit from him. He might not be Incredible Hulk bulky, but the guy was all defined muscle and

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controlled power. “Sorry.” He gave her a smirk. “The look on your face was totally worth it, though.” “Glad I could oblige,” she said wryly. “Seriously, Irish. What’s the plan?” “Not much of a planner. Guess I’ll see what comes to me when I get there.” “When we get there. I’m not letting you go there alone. They’re here because of me.” “Exactly. Which is why you’re gonna stay here. There anything I should know before I meet these goons?” “Like what?” “Like anything you may have left out of the story? If I’m gonna be on a level playing field with them, I can’t have any surprises, Kat.” She shook her head. “It’s just like I said.

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Lenny gambled Sicoli’s money away and now he wants it back.” “Okay, then,” he said, grabbing a not-soclean rag to wipe the grease from his hands. “By the end of the night, we should know where we stand.” Kat swallowed hard and took a deep breath to try and settle her nerves. At the end of the night, if Irish was still standing at all, she’d consider it a success. If he wasn’t, it would be her fault and she’d never forgive herself for endangering the only man to have ever shown her any compassion. “Irish…” Her throat constricted, and the words wouldn’t come. “Hey,” he said softly, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees. “Everything’s

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gonna be fine. Don’t go worrying about me, okay? I got this.” She nodded and prayed to God he was right.

Chapter Seven Aiden rolled up in front of the tattoo shop below Kat’s apartment and killed the engine on the GSXR. He glanced around for signs of the guys who’d been tailing her the night before, but he didn’t find any. He’d give it a few minutes and see if they wanted to approach him on the street. It’d be better for him if they did. It was only eleven, so the tattoo joint was still open for business,

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and with those gigantic windows and the street lamp directly above him, it’d be hard for anyone to miss a guy getting beat with bats. Setting the kickstand, he got off the bike and wished like hell he wasn’t wearing his snug leather riding jacket and gloves. They were suffocating him in this weather, but if these guys were from the East Coast and knew anything about the fighting world, they could recognize his tattoos and make him. The last thing he needed was his past colliding with Kat’s present. At least he didn’t need the jacket zipped, since his shirt covered up everything on his chest. He pulled off his helmet and hung it on the throttle handle, then took out a cigarette from the half-crushed pack in his jacket

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pocket. Lighting his smoke, Aiden leaned back on the bike, ankles and arms crossed, looking for all the world like he wasn’t about to step into the lion’s den with steaks tied around his neck. Kat had done her best to tag along, but there was no way in hell he’d hand her over on a silver platter to these assholes. As long as she was somewhere they couldn’t find her until he could figure a way out of this mess, she’d be safe. She’d taken consolation in telling him where she kept her gun and making him promise to use it for protection. Aiden took a deep drag on the cigarette and searched the surrounding area again as he thought about that afternoon. Keeping his distance from Kat was proving damn near impossible. In the beginning, he at least had

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the boyfriend standing between them and that almost hadn’t stopped him from kissing her in the kitchen. But then she’d told him she had no attachments, and it took everything he had not to pick her up and haul her off to his room. He’d fantasized about her for weeks, so the news of her single status had flipped his moral traffic light from red to green in an instant. He shook his head as he dropped his smoke to the ground and crushed it under his heel. The best thing for both of them would be to get these goons off her back and get her to her sister so that he and she could part ways. Then she’d be safe from sharks like Sicoli, not to mention riptides like him who would suck her under the surface faster than she could swim to shore.

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“Sooner I deal with these assholes, the better,” he muttered to himself as he pushed off his bike. Taking one last look around and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Aiden headed into the alley between the tattoo joint and voodoo jewelry shop to the door that led up to Kat’s apartment. He had no plan other than to see how serious these guys were. He needed to know how much they wanted and the latest they’d take it. If he could put them off for at least two week, then Jax could wire the money. Using Kat’s key, he opened the alley door and walked up the dimly lit stairwell. At the top were two apartments. Kat’s on the left and another on the right, which sat over a shoe repair store. In other words, nothing like a rowdy bar

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that would disguise any noise coming from across the hall. For small town cops, answering a call for “gunshots fired” would make them cream their department-issued polyester pants. They’d have the cops crawling up their asses so fast they’d have friction burns. Aiden took a deep breath, cracked his neck, then his knuckles, and let himself into Kat’s apartment. She’d given him the layout so he had a basic idea of where things were in case he needed to know in a lights-out brawl kind of situation, but when he closed the door behind him and flipped the switch, the lights came on without a problem. The problem was the two men standing in the center of the room holding guns with suppressors. Damn. “Oh, good, you’re already here,” Aiden

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shot off. “I was worried I’d have to send smoke signals or something. By the way, how’s the Caddy? Sounded like you maybe scratched the paint.” The goons glanced at each other, communicating in some sort of telepathic mob language, then turned their attention back on him. Goon One narrowed his eyes, giving him a strong resemblance to Christopher Walken. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Whoa. The guy even sounded like Walken. Aiden half expected the guy to demand “more cowbell.” “My name is Sully and my associate here is Vinnie. And you are?” Aiden arched a brow. “None of your fucking business.”

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“I disagree if you’re here on the girl’s behalf. However”—Sully gestured with a roll of his hands, the barrel of the gun drawing small circles in the air—“if you’re not, then you’re absolutely right; who you are doesn’t matter.” The one called Vinnie pulled back on the slide of his gun, chambering a round, and aimed it between Aiden’s eyes. “Smith. John Smith.” Sully offered a smile a cat would flash to a caged canary. “Mr. Smith, as you may or may not already know, we’ve been hired by Mr. Sicoli to collect a debt owed to him.” “Hired? You don’t work for him?” If not, their loyalty was more likely to themselves than to Sicoli. Aiden had a chunk of winnings still in a savings account back home. Maybe

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he could pay them to forget about Kat and tell Sicoli they’d killed her. Sully spoke with a tinge of annoyance. “I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Smith, and the answer is no. We might only be contracted to go after runners, but Mr. Sicoli pays us handsomely for our loyalty. Plus, we get half of whatever money we collect on top of our regular fees, which is why we’re more patient than your average collectors.” Fuck. There went that plan. At least he’d had the presence of mind to instruct Xan to get Kat out of town until Xander could reach Jax if Aiden didn’t make it out of this meeting. From the look of things, he’d give himself a fifty-fifty chance at this point. Not great odds. Aiden planted his feet shoulder-width

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apart and kept his arms loose by his sides. Without the aid of Kat’s gun, the only thing he had going for him was his fighting skills. “What happens if you can’t collect?” A sadistic glint lit up Vinnie’s eyes. The kind that said, I’ve tortured living things since kindergarten and never lost an ounce of sleep. “Why don’t you ask Lenny Marx? Oh wait, you can’t.” Sully elaborated. “Our orders are to come back with either the money or proof of death. After meeting with Mr. Marx in prison, we determined he had no means of getting us the money. Soon after, he met with an unfortunate accident.” If that wasn’t a bluff, then these guys were the real deal, and any hopes he’d carried for bargaining his way out were a waste of

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energy. Though he hadn’t wished death on the guy, he couldn’t deny a small part of him was glad Kat’s ex wouldn’t be coming after her in the future. That is, if he could ensure she even had a future. “So then it should be over. The girl doesn’t have anything to do with it. Marx was the one who borrowed the money from Sicoli, not her.” Vinnie barked out a laugh. “Is that what she told you?” “Marx didn’t borrow money,” Sully added. Unbuttoning his suit coat, he sat on Kat’s futon and rested his gun arm on the back of the couch. “He was contracted as a distributor for the crystal meth division of the syndicate. He moved the product but never brought

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in the earnings. Then he and the girl skipped town.” “Which signed his death warrant,” Vinnie piped in with a wry grin. “Sicoli uses contracts. No matter what you sign on for, you owe him one of two things: completion of your job or your life. Marx knew the score.” “So now you two either do your job or he has you killed, too, is that right?” Sully shrugged a shoulder. “It’s how he operates with everyone. We don’t take it personally.” “Good for you,” Aiden drawled. “I still don’t see what the hell any of that has to do with the girl.” “Considering her name is on the contract, it has everything to do with her.” Aiden’s blood ran cold. “I don’t believe

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you.” “Not that we owe you proof,” Sully said as he motioned to his partner, “but see for yourself.” Vinnie pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it to Aiden. Unlike most contracts that had multiple pages of language you couldn’t understand without an attorney dumbing it down for you, this was a single page of pretty cut-anddry terms. And at the bottom, right under Lenny’s, was Kat’s signature. Aiden felt the cold fingers of betrayal close around his neck like a noose choking the air from his lungs. The seemingly innocent woman he’d been protecting all this time was no better than a common drug dealer. Like Lenny. Like Janey’s scumbag boyfriend.

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Someone who pushed narcotics on kids desperate to fit in or who want to rebel, who then end up dragged into the sordid life of a never-ending addiction with little hope of escape. Goddamn it! Aiden took a cleansing breath and screwed his fucking head on straight. What Kat was or wasn’t had no bearing on his role in this mess. He promised Jax he’d keep her safe, and he aimed to keep that promise. Besides, no matter what she’d done in the past, she didn’t deserve to die. And he couldn’t live with the blood of another girl’s death on his hands. “Don’t look so shocked, pal,” Vinnie snickered. “Just because a bitch is prettier than the other whores on the corner don’t

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mean she don’t spread her legs just the same.” Laughing, he turned his head to share in the moment with the only other man in the room who might find him funny. Aiden’s eyes narrowed on the bastard. Inattention, even a split second, was a point of weakness, and it was all the opening he needed. Rage and betrayal flooded his vision and melted the chains on the part of him he’d kept leashed for the last five years: his darker half. Aiden went for a flying arm bar. He jumped into the air, wrapping his legs around Vinnie’s outstretched arm and dragged him to the ground. The gun went off, but the shot went wild from being yanked around. Then, with the thug’s arm held tightly between Aiden’s thighs, Aiden

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pulled down on the limb until just before the breaking point. Vinnie howled and released the weapon, and a second later Aiden had it pressed against Vinnie’s temple. “I’d stop there if I were you, Mr. Smith.” Aiden froze and bit back a curse. He’d let his anger do his thinking and acted without looking at the bigger picture, which was that Vinnie wasn’t the only guy in the room with a fucking gun. Realizing they once again had control, Vinnie took back his gun, stood up, and pistol-whipped Aiden across the face. His head snapped to the side and pain lanced from his mouth that bore a hole straight to his brain. Aiden tested the severity of his split lower lip with his tongue. Tasting the coppery tang of his own blood

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only fed the animal inside him more, but as he got to his feet, he tamped down the ferocious instinct to do anything other than stand and wait. Sully tsked his disappointment like he would to a naughty toddler. “Didn’t think that one through, did you, Mr. Smith? I should also warn you that if we can’t collect the debt in full, we have special orders to bring the girl back to Mr. Sicoli.” A barely contained fury rolled through Aiden’s muscles. “What the hell does he want with her?” “Well, even though most of his business deals in the pharmaceutical side of things—” Aiden scoffed in disgust. That was one way of saying the man made money from killing people with drugs.

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“—he occasionally dabbles in the skin trade, and clients who come from places where a redhead’s coloring is considered rare and exotic are willing to pay at least double the normal price. Unfortunately, we don’t get a percentage of that cut, so we’d prefer to bring in the money.” Oh, Jesus Christ… The man wanted her for sex trafficking. She’d be sold to the highest bidder for whatever the depraved mind wanted. She’d be kept drugged and dependent on her owner, and her body would be used in the worst ways. Aiden suddenly felt violently ill. He clutched his stomach as it rolled, and he stepped back a few steps until he could lean against the kitchen counter. Images of Kat naked and beaten and high out of her mind

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as some guy raped her churned the bile in his gut. He wanted to throw up, but he refused to give them the satisfaction. Sully checked the flashy gold watch on his wrist then leveled him with a glare. “I’m usually a very patient man, but I’m growing tired of this shithole town. So tell me, Mr. Smith, does she have the money or do we reunite her with her former employer?” He had to come up with a solution and fast. Too bad he wasn’t still fighting. He’d have easily gotten her the money she needed with one event. Holy shit, that’s it. A plan started to formulate. “What if I can get you the money?” Sully raised an eyebrow. “Can you?” “It’ll take me a few weeks to get it, but yeah, I can.”

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Vinnie’s lip curled up in a canine-like snarl. “Yeah, right. Where’ve we heard that before? No dice, asshole.” “You said yourself you’d rather have the money, right? If you give me a few weeks, I can get you double what she owes.” “You can get us forty grand?” Sully asked suspiciously. Aiden nodded. “Forty. But I have a condition I want met.” A chuckle from the leader. “You’re not exactly in the position to make demands.” “You’re right about that, but you’re not on a deadline. And if you give Sicoli the twenty Gs, he’ll give you half of that, plus you’ll have the other twenty I’m giving you. So you each walk away with fifteen grand plus whatever you normally get paid. I’d say that’s not a

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bad deal for sitting around on your asses and waiting for it.” Vinnie looked confused from all the numbers being thrown around, but Sully was quiet and contemplative. Aiden stood his ground and never broke eye contact. He refused to let them see him sweat. They were like rabid dogs. Smelling fear would cause them to attack. “Let’s hear these conditions of yours and then I’ll decide if this is worth my time,” Sully said, crossing an ankle over the opposite knee. “I want you to let her think I’ve convinced you to wait on Lenny getting out of jail. That means stop tailing her and let her come back to her apartment.” “Sure, no problem,” Vinnie jeered. “How

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’bout we book her a nice day at the spa, too, while we’re at it?” Just as Aiden was about to shoot off at the mouth, Sully beat him to it. “Shut the fuck up, Vinnie. Is that all, Mr. Smith? You want her to think she’s no longer in danger?” “That’s it. I don’t want her to see you, smell you, or know you exist.” He shrugged. “I don’t see a problem with that, but I want to be clear about something. Just because you’re the one getting us the money doesn’t mean she’s not our main collateral. So until we get the money, we’ll be keeping tabs on her. If she so much as steps foot outside the county limits, we’ll know it.” “How?” “A couple of weeks ago we placed a tracker in her arm so we could find her if she

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skipped town again.” Chills ran down Aiden’s spine. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.” “You’d be surprised what you don’t notice when someone bumps into you in a crowded bar. Any irritation is usually passed off as a bug bite,” Vinnie said, looking way too proud of himself. He must’ve been the one to stick her with the tracker. Aiden’s blood was reaching the boiling point. He hated being at anyone’s mercy on a normal day, and this situation blew normal out of the water. “If you’ve been able to track her this whole time, what’s with all the obvious tailing? And why didn’t you show up at my place last night or today?” “Intimidation, and once we realized she’d found herself a knight, we knew her hero

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would eventually try to avenge her. So thanks for being predictable.” Sully flashed him a malicious smile, then stood and signaled for Vinnie to put his firearm away. “All right, hot shot, you’ve got a month to get us the money. You don’t deliver, they’ll be adding ‘blunt force trauma’ to your medical records. Then we go after the girl.” “Yeah, yeah. Little mercy, lots of torture. I get the picture.” Aiden opened the door and held it open. “Now get the fuck out. We’re done here.” Sully pinned him with a look that clearly said he was only leaving because he wanted to. “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Smith.” When Vinnie drew up level with Aiden, he studied him so hard there should’ve been smoke coming out his ears. “I can’t shake

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this feeling that I know you from somewhere.” “Yeah, I get that a lot,” Aiden answered tightly. “Guess I have one of those faces.” As soon as the goons crossed the threshold, he slammed the door shut, hit the lights, and strode to the front windows. He watched as the men crossed the street, entered a door between two storefronts, and eventually showed themselves in a lit window facing Kat’s apartment before Vinnie flipped him off and drew the shades. Fuckers were closer than he liked for comfort, but he supposed he wouldn’t expect them to go very far. Whatever. As long as they kept their end of the bargain and stopped toying with Kat, it didn’t matter where they were.

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Aiden grabbed Kat’s gun from her dresser, checked the clip and the safety, and shoved it in the back of his waistband before locking up and heading back out to his bike. Before he started the engine, he found Xander in his contacts and connected the call. In two rings, his friend picked up. “Glad to see you’re alive, mate.” “Me too. Is that underground tournament going on right now?” “The Four by Four? Yeah, we’re in the finals. Three weeks to go. I kicked major ass in it last night, by the way, thanks for asking.” Aiden didn’t have time to pander to Xan’s feelings. “I need you to get me in.” “Let’s pretend for a second, Mr. I’ll Never Fight Again, that my jaw isn’t on the floor while I remind you that the tournament

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already started.” “I heard you the first time. I need in, Xan. Figure it out.” He shoved his phone in his pocket, pulled on his helmet, and took off toward home to get some answers.

Chapter Eight It was times like these when Kat wished she was a part of the technologically obsessed world. She’d give anything to have her cell phone so she could call Irish and see if he was okay. Ever since he’d left more than an hour earlier, she’d paced, rocked, and drove herself mad with worry. She didn’t even have Xander to try and reassure her, since he was

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still at work. At last she heard the faint whine of his bike grow louder. She would have run out to meet him in the shed, but Ally had been playing Guard the Castle on the porch all night. After what seemed like forever, he jogged up the steps and walked through the door. Kat froze in her pacing and did a quick scan to make sure no appendages were broken or missing. “Thank God you’re all right,” she said. “I kept imagining the worst.” “I’m fine.” He pulled off his gloves and riding jacket and set them on the back of the couch. She winced at the sight of his split lower lip. Hopefully that was the worst they’d given him. “What happened? What did they say?” “I gotta get out of these clothes and

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shower. We’ll talk after.” Aiden strode across the room without another word. His terse demeanor stunned her, to say the least, but she told herself it might be normal for him. She didn’t know him that well, after all. “Do you want me to make you coffee or anything?” He emerged from his bedroom holding a pair of boxer briefs and jersey shorts with a towel wrapped around his waist. “No. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said on his way into the bathroom, then closed the door behind him. She heard the water in the shower go on as she started to pace. She could try to justify it, but the truth was that she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t be so cold to her for no reason. He’d never treated her with anything other than care and

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consideration from the day they met. Something was wrong. Steeling herself before she lost her nerve, Kat strode across the room and opened the door wide. “Hey—” The vinyl curtain ripped back to show a very soapy, very colorful, and—holy shit—very well-hung Irish braced for attack mode. “Jesus Christ, Kat, what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, rising to his full height. “I almost jumped you, for fuck’s sake!” He whipped the curtain back to its closed position and snapped her back to the present. For a second there, she’d been entertaining images of his slick body “jumping” hers. She needed to stay focused on the more important issue at hand. Like whether or not

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she needed a new identity and a crash course in speaking Spanish. “You’re freaking me out, Irish. I can tell something’s wrong. You can’t expect me to wait until you’re through showering to—” The water turned off as the curtain slid to the side, yet again derailing her thoughts. He ran his hands forward over his head, squeezing out excess water from his longer hair on top. Droplets of water randomly trailed down his body, highlighting the bright colors in his skin, winking over the silver bars in his nipples, and sliding between the valley of his abs. Irish grabbed the towel off the bar and wrapped it around his waist again as he stepped out of the tub onto the shower mat. “To what, Kat?”

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“Hmm?” What did he say? Snap out of it! “Oh, to hear what happened.” Royal blue eyes considered her for several long moments. Professor Xavier’s telepathy powers would come in handy right about now. Then, not only would she know what had happened at her apartment, but she’d know the thoughts running rampant in his head at her ogling his assets. “Look, coffee this late will keep me up,” he finally said, “but if you don’t mind grabbing me a juice, I’ll be right out.” “Yeah, sure, of course. I’m sorry.” She gave him a weak smile and left the bathroom. Something was definitely wrong. He was acting different. And not in a good way. It must be bad news, she thought as she took a bottle of juice out of the fridge and

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cracked open the lid. As she wracked her brain as to what the bad news could be, Kat tipped the plastic bottle to her lips, sipped…and spit it into the sink. “Blech!” She held it up and shuddered just reading the label. “Cranberry.” “Good for the kidneys,” he said, coming up behind her and relieving her of his juice. “Cranberry juice is so…” She turned to face him, her sentence trailing off at the sight of him as he killed the whole bottle, his throat stretched, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. “…delicious.” His black shorts rode so low on his hips as to almost have no point in being worn at all. It didn’t matter that she’d seen him naked twice no more than five minutes earlier. Somehow this was sexier, with the deep V-

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cut of his obliques disappearing beneath the elastic waistband, torturing her with thoughts of where those muscles would lead her fingers if she traced them to their ends. Irish tossed the bottle in the garbage and leaned back on the counter. “If it’s so delicious, why’d you spit it out?” “Hmm?” Oh my God, you’re like a broken idiotic record around him unless he’s fully clothed. Smooth, Kat, real smooth. “Oh, no, I meant disgusting. Too tart for my taste, I guess.” Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “We still talking about juice?” She shook her head, the errant sections of hair that had fallen from her messy up-do over the harrowing evening swaying on her

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cheeks and neck. “The news.” “Not at all,” he said. “They backed off. They’re gonna wait until Marx gets out and take it up with him.” “Are you serious? You mean I’m free?” “You won’t have to worry about them anymore.” The perpetual fear she’d lived with for so many months finally melted away, leaving her feeling almost weightless. “Irish, that’s great news!” She paused in her celebration to study his solemn face. Her brows drew together with her uncertainty. “Irish? What’s wrong?” “I asked you if there was anything I needed to know about the situation before I went there. You said I knew everything.” “You did.”

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“Really? So the fact that you and your ex worked for Sicoli, what, just slipped your mind? Still,” he said in a low voice, “I never figured you for a drug pusher.” “A drug pusher? I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about! Lenny gambled with Sicoli’s money and lost it. That’s why they were after us.” “But that was only part of the story, wasn’t it, Kat? The part you left out was that the twenty Gs he gambled and lost came from you selling Sicoli’s meth.” She stared, jaw slack and eyes wide, dumbfounded by his accusation. As he pushed off the counter and crossed the room, she continued to plead her case. “This is insane. Those guys probably just said that stuff so you wouldn’t help me or something.”

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Picking up his riding jacket, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. As he walked back toward her, she met him halfway at the kitchen table. “I’ve never worked for Sicoli, and I’ve never had anything to do with drugs.” “Drop the act, Kat.” He opened the paper and slapped it down on the table between them, his blue eyes cold. With reluctance, she lowered her gaze. The paper was a contract for employment with the Sicoli Syndicate and at the bottom, right below Lenny’s, was her signature. “That dirty, rotten bastard,” she forced through a clenched jaw. “He must have forged my signature. If I ever see him again, I’m going to kill him.” “Why would he forge your signature for

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something like that?” “I know exactly why. It’s classic Lenny. After we weren’t a couple anymore, I always suspected he had worried I’d walk away from him one day, but he’d looked at us like we were the modern day Bonnie and Clyde or something. We were a team that worked well together, and he knew he could trust me. So by forging my signature, if things ever went bad, I’d be just as invested in solving the problem as him. Otherwise, I could leave and he’d be left to deal with his consequences all on his own.” Irish didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t react. Kat didn’t know what that meant, and frankly, she no longer cared. Sure you don’t. “Never mind,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.” She turned and grabbed her clothes off the

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couch before heading to the bathroom. While changing out of the borrowed clothes and into her work skirt and T-shirt that she’d thankfully washed while he’d been gone, she reprimanded herself for thinking he could actually be different than any other man. They never saw her for what she was. Only for what they wanted to see. She yanked open the door and almost walked right into him. “What are you doing, Kat?” “I’m going back to my apartment and tomorrow I’m leaving this Podunk town just like I planned. I appreciate what you did, but I’m not going to stand here while you look at me like I’m a piece of trash. I get enough of that from everyone else.” She sidestepped him, gathered her purse

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and shoes by the couch, and set her course. She’d rather take her chances with a pissed off alligator than spend another minute in that cabin.

… Aiden deserved a thorough beating. Before she could leave, he rushed to meet her at the door. “Kat, wait.” She’d opened the door only a couple of inches when he caged her from behind and pushed the door closed with the flats of his hands. “Don’t go.” She stood ramrod straight, tension evident in every muscle. Chunks of red-gold hair skimmed the pale skin of her neck, tempting him to nudge it aside and replace it with his lips. The faint smell of lilacs curled through

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his body, fueling his desire from the inside out. “Why shouldn’t I?” Because I want you in my bed. Beneath me. Wrapped around me so tightly I forget why I can’t have you. He was so fucked. It was dangerous for her to be with him, but it was even more dangerous for her to try and skip town until he could pay off the Wonder Twins. He hadn’t considered she’d still want to leave. “I don’t want you to, for one. And it’s late,” he tried. “Stay the night; give your head time to clear.” Her voice held the telltale tightness of attempting to hold in emotions. “Call me crazy, but I’d rather not stay in the company of someone who thinks so little of me.”

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“That’s where you’re wrong, kitten,” he said, turning her around to face him. Her normally rosy lips were now shades of rubies and swollen. Auburn lashes had gathered into wet spikes from the hurt she refused to let stream down her face. Even when flayed open with hurt, the beauty of her face was flawless. “Look, I’m no good with words, but I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff.” She responded with only silence and stillness. Say something, asshole. Fix this. “Kat, I think you’re a really good person who deserves a hell of a lot more than I think you’ve been given in life. And you’re strong. I think you’re pretty amazing, actually. I have from the first time I met you.” “And I’m supposed to believe all that after you just got done calling me a drug dealer

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and a liar?” He cursed under his breath. What the fuck was wrong with him? He let shit from his past block out all logic or even give her the chance to explain before condemning her. Framing her face with his hands, he gazed deep into her wounded eyes. “I’m sorry. I saw that contract and heard about the drugs and…” He released a heavy breath. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I flipped my shit. I should’ve asked instead of accusing you. I was an asshole.” “Yes, you were.” She locked her scrutiny on his chest as though she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye anymore. He ducked his head to put himself in her line of vision and whispered fiercely, “I won’t doubt you like that again, I

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swear. Forgive me?” She chewed on her lower lip for the eternity of a few seconds, then nodded. Her pupils swallowed the light blue of her irises as she held onto his shoulders. She swallowed hard, drawing his eyes to the smooth expanse of her throat. Her pulse sped up as he traced a finger down her neck. She wasn’t as unaffected as he’d thought. Relief flooded his system and bolstered his confidence. She didn’t hate him. Yet, anyway. All bets would be off if she ever found out who he really was and why he’d turned up in Alabaster. But he’d add that to his list of sins to worry about another time. Aiden dropped his hands to her hips and stepped closer. “And will you stay tonight?” he asked softly.

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“I’ll stay.” One night. He could do that, couldn’t he? Then he could get this need for her out of his system and focus on winning the tournament to free her from any danger. His job would be done, his debt paid to Jax, and he could move on to continue his daily penance and meaningless existence. But right now he wanted to feel alive again, if only for a night in the arms of the woman who’d had his balls on lockdown for months. She was the reason no one else even appealed to him anymore. He needed her, just this once. But he wouldn’t do it without an understanding between them. “Kat, can I be honest with you?” “Haven’t you been so far?” Not answering that one was better than an

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outright lie, right? Aiden was aware of the fine line he was walking. There was little between them that was honest from his end. But at least in this one thing, he’d be telling her the truth. Now he just had to do it without sounding crude or disrespectful, which would be a challenge. He was no smooth-talking Romeo. Meeting her expectant gaze, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for the possibility of getting slapped. “I wanna be with you tonight.” “As in, with me with me?” “Yeah,” he said, amusement lifting a corner of his mouth. “With you with you. It’s been a really long time since I wanted someone as much as I want you.” “Really?” she asked breathlessly.

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“You sound surprised.” She offered a weak shrug and suddenly found interest in the floorboards. “You seem like you’d be more into exciting, exotic-looking women. Like one of those sexy, new-age pin-up girls with the flawless skin and beautiful tattoos.” He almost laughed until he realized she was serious. She had no idea what she did to him. Grabbing one of her hands still resting on his shoulder, he slowly dragged it over his chest and down his stomach until it finally reached his stiff erection straining against the restrictive boxer briefs under his shorts. Aiden groaned as he molded her hand over his cock. The feel of her gripping him nearly redefined the word “premature.” She drew in a quick breath and raised her eyes to

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his. Her cheeks filling with a pretty shade of pink did crazy things to his insides. The more her innocence showed through, the more he wanted her. He couldn’t make sense of it. She was right. Typically he went for the larger-thanlife women who treated every day like it was their own personal thrill ride. Kat was something else entirely. Worldly beyond her years, yet somehow more innocent than she should be. “This is how into you I am, sweetheart. Believe me when I tell you I couldn’t fake this kind of interest,” he assured her. “Guess I was right after all,” she said. “About what?” “Earlier in the garage. I believe my exact words were, ‘It’s so big I can barely close my

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fingers around it.’” He let out a strangled chuckle. The woman he thought didn’t have a teasing bone in her body picked now of all times to prove him wrong. Then again, maybe she wasn’t trying to be funny because she effectively cut off his laughter when she gave his cock a light squeeze. A low growl emanated from deep in his chest. If he didn’t fuck her soon, he’d explode. “I want you, Kat. Wicked bad. But I don’t have anything more to offer you than one night. That’s me being honest. So if you wanna give me the red light now, I’ll understand, but you gotta let me know while I still have use of some of my brain.” “Green.” He furrowed his brow in confusion.

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“What’s green?” Her shy smile revealed so much. “I’m giving you the green light.” Images of all the things he planned to do to her in the next several hours flashed behind his eyes. Anticipation like nothing he’d ever had made his balls draw up tight with a delicious pleasure/pain. Dipping his head, he closed the space between his lips and hers—finally he’d kiss her, taste her—but at the last second she dropped her head back with a sigh and offered up her throat instead. He growled his complaint and intended on rectifying the missed opportunity when her sweet lilac scent drew him in like a bear to honey. Okay, he’d kiss her later. He wasn’t too hard to please. At the moment, he was just plain

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hard. “I want you so bad right now I can’t fucking think straight,” he rasped under her jaw. Latching onto the sensitive place below her ear, he tasted inch after inch of her skin as fallen wisps of her hair tickled his face. Fingernails bit into his shoulders where she gripped him, the slight pain igniting sparks of pleasure that raced down his spine. He kissed lower to the hollow of her throat, then down between her collarbones, until further efforts were thwarted by the damned cotton of her shirt. Grabbing the hem, he pulled it up and off her in seconds, only to be pulled up short by her bra. A part of him said he should take his time, explore her slowly. But as more blood flowed from his brain to his balls, that wasn’t

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the part he listened to. All he could think about was getting her naked and burying himself so deep inside her she’d feel him for days. His fingers attacked the front closure. The plastic clasp snapped from his hurried motions, but he didn’t care. A broken bra meant she couldn’t put it back on, which was just fine with him. He yanked it from her arms and let it fall to the floor as he got his first glimpse. Her skin was like cream accented with apricot flecks surrounding the pale pink nipples of her sweet breasts. Breasts he could spend all night teasing with the pads of his fingers and the tip of his tongue. But not right now. Now he needed to devour them. Devour her. There would be plenty of time to

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torture each other later. Aiden attacked her like a starving man offered his favorite meal. His lips sucked, tongue flicked, teeth scraped. As he kissed his way back up her neck, his hands roamed…and that’s when he noticed it. Something was wrong. Drawing back, he studied Kat’s composure. Her head was turned to the side and her eyes were closed. Not like they’d drifted down in the heat of passion, but like she’d shut them on something she didn’t want to see. Even worse, her hands were down at her sides and clenched into fists. Aiden cupped her face in his hands and gently brought her back to center. “Kat?” Her eyes opened, but they weren’t focused. She could’ve been looking right through him. His

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chest tightened. She was scaring the shit out of him. “Katherine!” That seemed to get through to her. At least enough that she blinked and focused on him again, but her body was still tense enough to be in rigor. “Hey, there,” he said softly. “You with me now, kitten?” She nodded, scanning the room nervously before meeting his eyes again. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He arched a brow. “I don’t know. I was kinda hoping you could tell me. Looked like you went somewhere else for a minute there.” She was getting skittish. Like a trapped animal itching to escape. If he didn’t lighten things up, she’d probably bolt in the next thirty seconds. “Sorry,” he said, “it’s been so

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long I think I forgot how these things work. Was I supposed to take you to dinner before or after I ripped your bra off?” His bad attempt at humor paid off in the way of a small grin. “You’re a moron.” “Oh, there’s no doubt about that, sweetheart,” he quipped. Now that he knew she wasn’t about to take off on him, he dropped his clown act. “Seriously, though. What’d I do wrong? And don’t even try telling me nothing, ’cause I swear I’ll tan your hide for lying to me.” She gasped. “You would not.” He crossed his arms over his chest and arched a brow in challenge. “Try me.” Headlights swung through the windows in the living room with the accompanying sound of a ’72 Nova. He muttered a curse

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under his breath. “Xan’s home.” He reached down to where her shirt and bra lay in a heap by the door and placed them in her hands. “Go on into my room. I have to talk to him for a few minutes, but then I’ll be in.” “Maybe you should just take me back to my apartment.” “Not a chance. I’ll take you back tomorrow if you want, but you’re staying here tonight.” He placed a kiss where her shoulder met her graceful neck, then farther up where her pulse beat a rapid tattoo. He tilted her chin up and skimmed his thumb over her bottom lip. “With me, remember?” “Irish, I don’t—” “Please, sweetheart. Go and wait for me.” Her features softened and, with a resigned sigh, she crossed to his room and shut the

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door behind her. Kat MacGregor was becoming more mysterious by the minute. They say ignorance is bliss, but they also say knowledge is power. There was no way he could ignore the red flags now waving in his head. He had to talk to her. Had to find out what set her off like it did and how to make sure it never happened again. But first he had to talk to Xan about getting him into that tournament, or demystifying Kat would be the least of his worries.

Chapter Nine Kat stood at Irish’s bedroom window, staring through the glass panes at the ghostly scenery. Murky browns and greens of the bayou had turned into hues of gray from the pale moonlight. Cypress trees wept with moss frozen in time without even the barest breeze to give them life. Lifting her eyes, she gazed up into the night sky to admire the waxing moon. She

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exhaled and sagged against the wood frame, imagining the soft illumination wrapping its protective rays around her. As a teenager, Kat had found solace in the moon during some of the darkest times in her life. It passed her window most nights, like a glowing guardian in its ever-changing forms, there to center and ground her. Something that seeing Irish at the bar the last several months had also done for her. No one had had that effect on her since Nessie. But did she dare trust the feeling? That was the million-dollar question. She didn’t see a clock anywhere, but she guessed it had probably been about thirty minutes or so since Irish had left to talk to Xander. She wondered what that was all about. Maybe he was telling him about the

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shitstorm she’d gotten him into. She liked Xander. It’d be a shame to have him hate her. Then again, it wouldn’t matter much anyway, since she was planning on leaving town soon. Hell, if she had the means, she’d be on her way now, but as it was, she couldn’t go anywhere until Irish took her back to her car. God, how embarrassing. She couldn’t believe she’d actually slipped inside herself as he was ravishing her body like she’d wanted him to. Well, maybe not exactly like she’d wanted. Her body had been totally onboard with the ravishing—her wet panties could attest to that—but something had triggered her mind to hop off the Sexytimes Train. Leaning a hip against the wall, she wrapped her arms around her middle,

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hugging herself and the soft cotton of the Tshirt she’d pilfered from Irish’s dresser. Unfortunately, her own arms didn’t offer the sort of comfort she longed for. Ducking her chin to the side, she inhaled the purely male scent deep into her lungs. What was it that had set her off? She remembered him kissing his way down her neck, feeling the rasp of his five o’clock shadow on her sensitive skin, the sensual heat of his tongue. Then he’d pulled off her shirt and attacked her bra so hard and fast he’d broken the clasp. She’d heard the snap of the plastic just before he yanked it down her arms…and that’s when things started to get fuzzy. She remembered turning her face to see the moon out of habit, but they weren’t in

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her old room on her old bed, so when she didn’t find it her eyes squeezed shut. She vaguely recalled his mouth on her breasts, but not much else. Not the techniques he used. Not the way it felt. Nothing. It must have been the intensity that had set her off. With a past like hers, it wasn’t natural to trust a man. Wasn’t natural to believe he’d only take as much as she was willing to give. She’d been just as eager to be with Irish as he’d been for her, but it hadn’t mattered. The minute things became frantic and seemingly out of control, she’d regressed within herself. Just like she had all those times as a teenager. Back then it had saved her. Now it just made her a damaged freak.

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The sound of the door opening in the dark behind her snapped her spine a little straighter. Would he still want to be with her or had he reconsidered? Maybe that’s why he’d been gone so long. He’d changed his mind and was hoping she’d fall asleep so he wouldn’t have to backpedal. Without turning around, she listened to his bare feet pad across the wood floor to her. Strong hands settled on her shoulders, then stroked down her arms to envelop her in the comforting embrace she’d been unable to give herself. Her body melted into his, her softer frame conforming to his ridges and planes. He nuzzled the side of her neck, his warm breath causing shivers to race over her skin. His thumb stroked over the inside of her

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forearm, then paused. He pulled her arm away from her body and turned it toward the window. “Does this hurt?” His voice sounded unusually tight. “What, that?” she asked, looking at the small bump shaped like a Tic Tac. She’d noticed it a couple of weeks ago. “No, not really. Only a little if I press on it. I think it’s a lipoma—a fatty cyst. My mom used to get them.” Cradling her arm, he bent his head and lightly pressed his lips to it in a tender kiss. A kiss meant to soothe and comfort. And miracle of miracles, it did. “Sorry I was gone so long,” he said gruffly in her ear as he lowered her arm back into their embrace. “You don’t owe me an apology, Irish.”

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“Bullshit,” he said, turning her in his arms. “I said I’d be a few minutes, not fortyfive. Things took a lot longer than I expected. So I’m sorry, all right?” His attempt to atone for such a minor infraction made her belly flip and coaxed a smile from her lips. “All right.” “Good,” he said with a short nod of his head. “Now, about before—” “No, let’s not analyze it, okay? I was nervous,” she supplied quickly with a smile she hoped appeared reassuring. “It’s been so long for me, I’m probably re-virginized, and you’re a pretty intense guy.” “Don’t sugarcoat it. I got carried away and scared the shit out of you, is what I did.” Placing his large hands on the side of her head, he gave her a crooked smile. “Can I try again

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if I promise to control myself?” Deep breath in…and out… “Yeah.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, giving her a clear indication of his first move. Anticipation and anxiety collided in her chest, battling each other as he lowered his face to hers. I can do this, she told herself. She could absolutely… Warm breath bathed her lips. Shit! Kat pushed against his chest until he yielded. His eyes probed hers in confusion. “What’s the matter?” “Nothing.” Liar! “Then why can’t I kiss you?” She shrugged. “I don’t like kissing on the mouth. Is that a big deal?” He studied her for long moments. Finally, he said, “Depends.”

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“On what?” “The reason.” She took a step back until his hands dropped, and then crossed her arms in front of her. “I don’t get the attraction of having my face eaten.” “Face eaten. You been kissing zombies?” Zombies, no. But, monsters? Definitely. Trying for sarcasm she didn’t feel, she said, “Very funny.” He crossed his arms over his muscled chest and mimicked her stance as he narrowed his eyes slightly to study her. She imagined what they must look like as they faced each other, leaning on the wall with arms folded defensively. The window spilled moonlight onto the floor like an un-crossable canyon yawning between them.

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At last he said, “Sounds to me like you’ve never been kissed by a man who knows what he’s doin’.” Memories reared up of hot breath, heavy with the stench of cheap whiskey and chewing tobacco, tainting her air and assaulting her nose and lungs. Bruising lips and choking tongues. Sloppy wetness and vile tastes that had starred in her nightmares for years. Turning away from him, she faced the corner of the room. Kat stiffened when his arms snaked around her waist. “Don’t shut me out, kitten.” Irish nuzzled her neck and held her tight. “Talk to me.” Damn him. She didn’t want to talk about any of it. Didn’t want to remember any of it. If he knew about her past, he’d be disgusted. He’d never want to touch her again.

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And she needed him to touch her. She couldn’t explain it. Knew she didn’t deserve it. But needed it all the same. Distract him. Get his blood pumping and he’ll forget all about talking. She turned in his arms and trailed kisses along his chest as her fingers explored the contours of his defined abs. Her lips found one of his pierced nipples and she tongued the barbell before sucking it into the heat of her mouth. He groaned in appreciation, and his strong fingers contracted at her waist. The heady feeling of a power she’d never known before—the power to make a man twice her size heel—gave birth to a desire to take the reins even more. To see how far she could go. Irish cursed, grabbed her arms, and set her back from him. Frustration and probably

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more sexual tension than she wanted to think about tightened the lines in his face. She was way out of her league here. “As much as I was enjoying that, distracting me is only going to get you so far, Kat. Because eventually I’m gonna get wrapped up in what’s happening and scare you again or try something else you don’t wanna do. So unless you tell me what’s going on with you, everything stops right here.” “Fine,” she said as she backed away from him. “We’ll stop, then.” He advanced, his stare solid and unwavering. She retreated farther. Not out of fear that he would harm her but of what he’d pull out of her. No one had ever chipped away at her defenses before—no one had given a damn enough to try—and now she realized

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how weak they truly were. She needed an upgrade and fast, or this man would topple them like a house of cards. When the corner of the room met her back, his arms caged her in, his large frame invading her space and making it impossible to ignore him. With a strength and resolve she didn’t feel, Kat tilted her head up and met his intense gaze. “What?” she demanded. “Tell me.” “Tell you what?” With one hand, he trailed the backs of his fingers across her cheek, a tenderness that belied the rough feeling of his scarred knuckles. “Tell me what happened to put those ghosts in your eyes.” She bit down on her lip. “Please,” she

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pleaded, “don’t make me talk about it.” “Ah, kitten, I’d never make you do anything.” Irish gathered her against him. Though she kept her arms tucked between them, she rested her head on his chest and sank into his embrace. “But that’s why I wanna know things. I don’t wanna do anything to hurt you. You understand?” She nodded. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you into bed.” Kat’s stomach dropped out when she became weightless as he cradled her against his chest. She looped her arms around his neck and held on, checking her distance from the floor as he crossed the room. “Any tighter and you’ll have me in a decent choke hold. You afraid I’ll drop you?”

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A flush of embarrassment heated her face despite the humor in his eyes. She loosened her grip and apologized. “Maybe a little. Which I guess is stupid. You’re probably strong enough to carry Ally.” He chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but I’m definitely strong enough to carry a little thing like you.” Stopping at the side of the bed, Irish looked down at her with renewed seriousness. “But all that aside…I’d never let you fall, kitten. Not ever.” Naht evah. His words rolled around in her brain, looking for a place to settle and take root. Unfortunately the dark memories grew rampant in her mind like weeds choking out any bloom of trust that tried thriving for very long. She could only enjoy it for as long as it took for history to repeat itself, proving she’d

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been wrong to hold out hope that this time would be different. He gently lowered her onto the bed, then joined her and propped them up with pillows as they lay on their sides facing each other. She kept her focus on his chest, hoping to avoid revealing the riot of emotions that fought within her. Desire, shame, anticipation, anxiety… She couldn’t make heads or tails of what she should be feeling, which she guessed added confusion to the volatile mix. “Hey.” With the side of his finger, he forced her gaze up to his. Instantly, the emotions that threatened to consume her quelled. “You okay?” She nodded. “I’m fine.” Irish expelled a breath as heavy as the thoughts Kat suspected he had tumbling

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around in his head. His dark brows almost knitted together and his lips were set in a straight line. She was afraid to know what he thought of her. “Hey,” Irish said softly. “Like I told you before, I’m no good with words. I don’t know exactly what this is between us, but I do know I’m having a damn hard time fighting it.” “You’ve been trying to fight it?” “Well, yeah.” He pushed up on his side a little and bent his supporting arm to hold up his head. “I mean, I’ve been attracted to you for forever, but I respected that you had a boyfriend. Even though he was a dirtbag who didn’t deserve you.” A little thrill buzzed through her that Irish thought she was at least worthy enough of

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someone better than Lenny. “And after you found out I wasn’t still attached?” “Ah, Christ.” He leaned back a bit and gazed up at the ceiling before resuming his original position, a half smirk playing across his lips. “Pardon my being frank, but it was like giving my dick the green light while my brain kept trying to keep my filthy hands off you. You can probably tell by now my brain’s been fighting a losing battle.” Irish had a no-nonsense way of putting things. He said what he meant, even if what he meant was blunt or crass. That type of talk would probably turn off a lot of women, but his blue-collar roots comforted her. With him, she’d always know where she stood and she didn’t feel like she had to pretend to be anything other than who she was. Or at least

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who she allowed the world to see. “Well, I’ve been wondering for a long time what it would be like to have your ‘filthy hands’ on me. Which is weird because…” Kat trailed off, wondering if too much information was a bad thing. But then his free hand grabbed hers. He kissed the tops of her fingers and then tucked their joined hands to his chest. The moonlight spilling into the room illuminated the honesty in his face as he waited for her to finish her sentence. Not an ounce of manipulation to be found. Only sincere tenderness. A warmth, intangible and yet no less remarkable, seeped into her chest, further softening the barriers she’d erected to keep others from hurting her. Kat couldn’t explain why, but she felt that if anyone could be

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entrusted with the horrific details of her past, it was this man. That didn’t mean telling him would be any easier. She still needed time to work her way up to that step if it ever came. But she wanted to tell him the little truths for now. She took a breath and finished the sentence. “It’s weird because I’ve never desired intimacy with anyone until now. Until you.” “Never?” She smiled as she pictured him puffing his chest out like a proud peacock. She hadn’t considered what kind of an ego stroke that would be for a guy, but she kind of liked the idea of stroking Irish’s ego. She liked the idea of stroking a lot of things on him. “Never.” Irish wrapped his arm around her waist

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and pulled her in flush with his body. Not necessarily in a sexual manner, but a protective one. He seemed to act like that a lot around her. She wondered if he had an innate sense of gallantry around any female or if maybe she might be special. Odds were it was the former. She couldn’t imagine anything about her inspiring anyone to act out of character. He probably helped little old ladies cross streets and retrieved their cats from trees as a hobby. “Tell me the real reason you don’t like to be kissed.” His face was set with a strange mix of demand and plea. The answer swelled in her throat until it hurt to swallow. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. But as much as she wanted to shut down, something inside her

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encouraged her to open her scarred-over wounds. “My first experience with kissing was with a man I didn’t want to kiss,” she admitted, her voice thick with emotions she’d rather not let surface but was helpless to hold at bay any longer. Much like the pain she could no longer balance on the precipice of her lashes. With her next blink, the first of many drops was overflowed, flaunting her secret shame. “He was much older, and for months he gave me these looks and seemingly innocent touches that made my skin crawl. One day he cornered me. His foul breath made my stomach turn, but I had nowhere to go. He put his lips on mine. I tried keeping them closed, but he pressed his thumb and finger into my cheeks to— Then his tongue— And it was

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so— S-so—” She couldn’t complete a sentence to save her life. The nightmares flooded her memory, slicing through the signals in her brain, hindering her ability to speak cohesively. Irish gathered her into his arms, one hand stroking her back while the other pushed the stray hair plastered to her tearstreaked face. He whispered sweet words with his lips pressed to her temple, though he needn’t say anything. A certain amount of calm settled over her just by being wrapped up in his strong arms and his unique scent. With Irish acting as her anchor in the present, Kat took a deep breath and finished. “It was disgusting. Not only was I unwilling, but he tasted like every bad addiction he had and it felt like he was trying to lick my

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tonsils. It made me gag really hard, which I guess he took as an insult. He stopped kissing me, but only because he split my lip open when he backhanded me for almost puking in his mouth.” “Sonofabitch.” His body snapped wiretight, and she felt the muscle in his jaw tic above her eye where his face was still tucked over hers. “Please tell me the next time he tried that shit, you kneed him in the balls before kicking his teeth in.” She was surprised when a chuckle, weak though it was, bubbled past the tightness in her chest. “I probably imagined scenarios like that a thousand times, but no. I was only fourteen at the time and he knew all the things to say to keep me compliant.” Clearing her throat, she did her best to put a verbal

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punctuation on the subject. “So that is why I don’t kiss.” Inside, Kat gave herself a few pats on the back and even tossed some mental confetti. It was the most she’d revealed outright to anyone. She’d never even told Nessie any of that, though she knew her older sister had plenty of airtight suspicions. Though she hadn’t wanted to tell Irish, a very small part of her felt relief. As though just by sharing it with him, it unburdened her, if even a little. But that was all she could do for now. All her energy had leaked from the emotional toll, leaving her body wrung out. The only thing holding her on her side was the embrace of the man next to her. “Jesus fucking Christ, Kat.” He pulled back slightly so he could see her face. Thank

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God it wasn’t daylight, or he’d see the puffy red mess she’d made of it. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Snapping it shut in obvious frustration, he looked up at the ceiling and blew out a long breath through his nose. “Irish?” “Gimme a second.” Deafening silence filled the room and pressed in on her eardrums. Maybe now that he knew she’d been used at such a young age—even though she’d only revealed the tip of the very nasty iceberg that was her past—he wasn’t attracted to her anymore. And she knew all too well how pissed guys could get when you ruined their plans for a good time. Suddenly, the idea of Irish reacting that

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way scared the shit out of her. Not because of anything physically he could do to her in an attempt to assuage his bruised ego—she’d learned how to deal and compartmentalize the physical pain when she was young, no matter how bad—but because she’d thought he was different. She’d thought that maybe he cared for her on some level. Even caring for her as a fellow human was a step above what most people had shown for her. Kat tamped down the dread creeping up that Irish would ever harm her. She knew better than that. Her past might be shooting off warning flares, but her woman’s intuition recognized them as nothing more than bouts of old fear that had no place in the present. But now he probably had second thoughts about getting involved with someone like her

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and didn’t know how to let her down easily after his bold statements earlier of wanting her so badly. That’s okay, Kat told herself. She couldn’t blame him. He’d wanted a hot hookup with a woman who could match his heat in the bedroom. He hadn’t signed on for her kind of baggage. So she’d spare him the need to produce an awkward explanation. It was the least she could do after everything he’d done for her. As soon as she pulled away, his arms tightened reflexively. “Where you going?” “I guess the emotional roller coaster of the last few days is finally catching up with me. I’m really exhausted, but I’d be more comfortable if I slept in the other room again.” When he opened his mouth, she stopped

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him. “Please, Irish, don’t argue.” She gave him a smile with a hint of wickedness to it and hoped it was enough to sell him the line of bullshit. “Despite what my brain says, I think my body would be way too aware of you and I won’t get any sleep.” The part about being exhausted was true, but Kat didn’t think for one second she’d have problems sleeping with him next to her. Something told her she might even have the best sleep of her life lying with him, hearing his strong heartbeat, wrapped up in the warmth of his body. “I’ll agree on two conditions,” he said. She raised a wary eyebrow. “Which are?” “One, you sleep in my bed and let me take the couch.” Well, that was easy. She trusted him

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enough now that she didn’t have the same fears of the night before. Sleeping in sheets steeped in Irish’s scent was the next best thing to having the man himself. To hide her enthusiasm, she released an exasperated sigh. “Fine. What’s the second thing?” He paused before answering, using a finger to trace the scar in the center of her chest. She knew he probably had more questions about her past. About how she got an injury that left her with a thin, puckered line so white it was noticeable against her pale skin. But he didn’t ask them, and for that she said a silent prayer of thanks. She wasn’t ready to delve that deep into her nightmares. Probably never would be. As though remembering he still needed to state his second stipulation, Irish cupped her

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cheek and stared deeply in her eyes in a way that both excited and unnerved her. “Let me kiss you, sweetheart.” His voice was a low rasp. He leaned in closer, the tip of his nose caressing hers, his lips a scant inch away. “Let me show you how good a real kiss can be. Will you let me do that, Kat? Will you let me kiss you good night?” Denying him was futile. She knew every cell in her body would revolt if she even tried to say no. So it was convenient that for once her brain was onboard with her body. Unable to find her voice, she inclined her head slightly. Irish shook his. “Not good enough, kitten. You need to be clear. If we ever take things further, I don’t wanna misunderstand something in the heat of the moment. So get

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in the habit now. Say it.” She swallowed and licked her suddenly dry lips. “Yes. You can kiss me.” Her insides shook, but her curious desire overshadowed the anxiety. Irish moved up and placed a soft kiss on each of her eyes. The tip of her nose. The corners of her mouth. And, finally…her lips. The kiss was gentle, sensual. Light grazes that explored her as much as they touched her. His lips were pliant, molding to fit hers. Kat reveled in such a perfect moment. To most people it would have been nothing more than a simple kiss. But to her, it was an incredible gift. Something she never imagined experiencing. At last, she knew. Knew what it was like to be cherished, revered, and respected.

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“You with me, kitten?” he asked in a whisper between kisses. “Very with you.” In mere minutes his lips had become as necessary to her as air. She hated pulling away, even for the two seconds it took to respond. She could very happily live out her days right here, in this bed, liplocked forever with this sexy man she barely knew and yet somehow trusted more than any other man in her life. His tongue licked a wet path in the seam of her mouth. Kat’s body strung tight and her head jerked back automatically, but Irish reacted just as quickly with a hand at her nape. “Shh, baby, relax. I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first.” His words comforted her that he wasn’t about to press the issue if she called a stop to

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the whole First Kiss Experiment. But at the same time, she flushed with a cocktail of embarrassment and anger. Here she was, a twenty-eight-year-old woman who hadn’t been a virgin for half her life, and she was afraid to let a man truly kiss her because a worthless piece of shit had ruined her all those years ago. Well, Kat was sick and tired of losers dictating how she lived her life. She’d managed to kick her relationship with Lenny to the curb. It was time she started fighting the rest of her demons, no matter how much it scared her. “No, it’s okay,” she said, forcing her body to relax again. “Please don’t…” “Don’t what, kitten?” Meeting his gaze with all the moxie she could summon, she said, “Please don’t stop

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kissing me.” “No problem.” He’d barely finished the words before making good on it, and with his mouth firmly on hers again, her insecurities melted into the heat pooling deep in her stomach. “Kat, open up for me,” he panted. “I need to taste you. We’ll go slow, I promise, just please let me in.” It wasn’t his plea that had her parting her lips, but her own needs and desires mixed with intense curiosity as to what it might feel like to lose herself in a kiss. To lose herself in his kiss. Remembering he wanted her to be clear, she gave him a quiet “yes” and parted her lips. He groaned his approval and held her face as his tongue tentatively explored in shallow

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strokes, giving her time to acclimate to the intrusion. But time wasn’t necessary. Kat was fast learning that this man was like a potent drug: highly addictive and should come with a warning label. She wanted more. Needed more. Digging her fingers into his back, she succumbed to her instincts. Despite her pulse and the intensity of the sensations climbing in her belly, he kept the pace slow and methodical. Their tongues met and glided over each other again and again in an erotic dance. He tasted like heaven with a splash of cranberry juice, giving her a new affinity for the tart flavor. If Ocean Spray could find a way to bottle it, she’d buy stock in the CranIrish line. When he pulled back, she had to force

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herself not to follow him, but the ache she felt at the loss of connection with him shocked her with a dose of reality. She’d just experienced her first true kiss, and it had rocked her to her core. If Irish could affect her so well with a kiss, what could he do to her if she gave him her body? A slight tremor ran through her at the thought. “Wow,” he whispered, clearing his throat. “That was…” “Really good.” Kat mentally slapped herself in the forehead for such a lame description. English was her best subject, so surely she could have spit out something a bit more profound than that. Irish smiled widely, his white teeth bright in the moonlight. “Yeah, it was.” He rolled over and got out of the bed. She settled back

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against the pillow as he leaned over, bracing himself with his arms on either side of her. Then he kissed her again, almost as though testing to see if she’d let him. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the melding of their mouths as they barely interlocked, she embracing his full lower lip while he embraced the opposite. A gentle passion and mutual respect conveyed in one small act. “Sweet dreams, kitten,” he whispered against her forehead before placing a chaste kiss there. And with a lump in her throat and a knot in her belly, Kat watched him slip from the room, even as he made a place for himself deep in a corner of her heart.

Chapter Ten Aiden walked across the gravel drive toward the house. It was only midmorning and already the oppressive humidity was replacing the sweat dripping down his chest just as fast as he wiped it away with the T-shirt balled in his hand. “Hey, Ally-girl,” he said to the gator sunning herself. “Must be nice to be coldblooded, huh? Not even noon and it’s already

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wicked muggy out here.” She hissed in response, which he took to mean, Like I give a shit, asshole. “All right, I’m going. Don’t need to bite my head off.” If anyone should be cranky, it was him. After a night of practically no sleep, he’d gotten up around five in the morning and gone for a long run. Then he’d punished himself for another couple of hours in their makeshift gym, flipping tractor tires, swinging a sledgehammer, and doing other manual labor–based exercises. Rich boys could play with their weight machines all day long, but nothing beat the kind of muscle built with good old-fashioned hard work. But now he wanted to die. Hell, he’d already puked twice. Transitioning from maintenance workouts to training and fight

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prep always sucked. He’d rest for a few hours and go back out for another round in the afternoon and maybe another in the evening. If he wanted a shot at winning this tournament, he didn’t have time to dick around. Which also meant changing his diet, he realized as he climbed the porch steps and the rich scent of pancakes made his stomach growl. He figured Xander must be cooking breakfast—the man had culinary talents to rival an Iron Chef—but the scene he walked in on took him by surprise. Standing at the counter mixing a bowl of eggs, Xander was animatedly telling an elaborate story as Kat tried to flip pancakes while doubling over in laughter. Aiden dropped his sweaty shirt by the door and crossed to the fridge. He grabbed

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two bottles of water and killed the first one before even reaching the kitchen table. “Oi,” his roommate called. “Get your stinky shite out of the room, will you? How many times do I have to tell you not to leave your sweaty clothes lying about the house?” “The same amount of times I have to tell you you’re not my mother.” “Keep that attitude up, mate, and you won’t be getting any of me famous pancakes.” Aiden pulled out a chair and sat at the table as he studied Kat. Her laughter had died as soon as she’d noticed him. Now she flipped the pancakes with way more focus than the menial task required. Her shoulders were tight and when she turned to get more batter, she avoided meeting his eyes.

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Pretending he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, he continued bantering with Xander. “That’s all right. I’m not planning on having pancakes anyway, so I’ll just leave my stuff where it is.” “What? Of course you are; don’t be daft. You love me fucking pancakes. I suppose next you’re going to tell me you don’t want any bacon, either.” For fuck’s sake, did the man wake up without his brain this morning? He cleared his throat and gave his friend a pointed look. Think, dumbass. “Ohhhhhh,” he dragged out. “That’s right, I almost forgot about your new diet. Good job, mate, I’m proud of you for stickin’ to the plan.” Kat looked between the men with a

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puzzled frown. “What are you talking about? Neither of you needs to be on a diet.” Xander was all too happy to explain. “Well, you see, lass, Irish here has gone a bit soft in the middle. See how he’s got a bit of a roll there?” Aiden and Kat both glanced down to see the line of skin folded across his midsection because he was hunched over at the table. He quickly sat up straight, eliminating the supposed “roll,” but Kat had already looked back to Xander. What-the-hell-ever. What did he care, anyway? This wasn’t high school, and he wasn’t in competition for the head cheerleader, for chrissake. “Yeah, he said he wants to trim up like yours truly,” the Brit continued as he pulled

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up the front of his tank and displayed his abs. “I don’t mean to sound cheeky, but come on, can you blame the lad?” Aiden worked out regularly and had kept most of his tone from years ago, but even on his best day he’d never been as cut as Xander in the stomach. The man’s torso looked like something out of RoboCop. Skin draped over an eight-pack of steel. And his obliques were insane; the V-shape was noticeable even under his T-shirts. “That’s not fat, asshole. I’m retaining some water, that’s all.” “Oh, is it that time of the month already, mate? Seems like you just got off your period.” “Whatever,” Aiden said, flipping him the bird. “You’re fucking soft in the head.”

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“If Irish’s middle is considered soft,” she said, pointing to him with a spatula, “I’d hate to hear how mine is classified.” “Ah, but a woman is supposed to be soft, lass, with supple curves that mold to a man’s much harder body. And since I’ve seen you at work in that skimpy thing they call a uniform, believe me when I tell you, you’re perfect just the way you are,” he said with a wink. Kat scoffed and turned back to the stove, but not before Aiden noticed her cheeks flush a bright pink. Still whipping a fork through the bowl of eggs, Xander winked in Aiden’s direction before focusing his attention elsewhere. What the hell was going on? Was Xan interested in Kat? The muscles in Aiden’s jaw

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flexed and his hands curled into fists. He’d never mentioned anything before, but maybe that was because he’d known Aiden was there to look after her and didn’t want to complicate things by bringing her home. But now that she was already here… “Fucking great,” he muttered. “What was that, mate?” Aiden got up from the table. “Nothing,” he said, walking toward the door. “I’m heading back out. I’ll eat later.” He couldn’t even be pissed at Xander. It’s not like Aiden had ever staked a claim on Kat, or ever would. And, assuming she didn’t leave town, she wouldn’t find anyone better than his friend. Whether he was with a woman long-term or just for a night of fun, Xan always treated the girl he was with like

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royalty. Plus, Xander didn’t have a history of hurting the ones he loved. So, there was that. Once inside the barn again, Aiden quickly wrapped his hands and headed over to the heavy bag hanging from the rafters. Though his muscles were still burning, he began putting himself through one of his bag routines, working on his striking and kicking combinations. “Wow, did you guys do all this yourself?” Aiden stopped to look over at Kat standing at the entrance to the barn door. He must’ve really been in the zone; he hadn’t even heard her slide the barn door open and closed again. “Yeah.” Using the back of his forearm, he wiped the sweat from his face as best he

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could. He knew he should say more, but he couldn’t think. She’d stepped farther in where the sunlight streamed in through the dingy window above. The rays lit her from behind like an angel and the dust motes looked like tiny fairies dancing around their queen. “Queen of the Angel Fairies…” and holy shit, did I just say that out loud? “What did you say?” Yep, he did. Christ, she must think he was a wicked idiot or something. “I said Xan is the king of the underground fighting around here. He likes to fight in the underground MMA tournaments out near Sullivan. So when we moved here, we put some things together that keep him in shape for that.” She crossed to a metal folding chair a few feet away from him and got comfortable.

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“What’s MMA?” “Mixed Martial Arts. It’s when you fight using multiple disciplines of fighting, not just one. You ever see the fights on TV when they’re in an octagonal cage?” “Oh, yeah, I guess I have. Those fights are brutal, aren’t they?” “Can be. But it’s not like both guys aren’t in there for the same reason. If one of them wasn’t trained for it or didn’t want to be in the fight, then that would be one thing. But every fighter who steps in that cage loves the feel of getting hit just as much as he loves doing the hitting. You gotta respect that kind of passion.” “Is that why you guys moved here, for the underground fights?” “That’s what Xander’s doing here.”

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“And you?” she asked. He choked back the acid in his throat at the thought of continuing to lie to her. Turning back to the bag, he rolled his shoulders a few times before throwing a combination as hard as he could, then answered her with a half truth. “I wasn’t doing much in Boston, so I figured I’d check things out down here.” Aiden continued to punch and kick, hoping it would deter further questions. He hated this entire fucking situation. Hated that she was in danger. Hated that he was lying to her. Hated that he wanted her a hell of a lot more than he could afford. And he sure as fuck hated that his best friend might want to fuck her, too. Nothin’ like a little salt to add to the wounds. With every strike and every kick, he

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imagined the hard bag of sand as everything that stood in the way of Kat’s happiness and safety. She deserved a better life than the one she was leading, and he wanted to do whatever he could to give that to her. That meant winning the Four by Four and getting Sicoli and his hired goons off her back. That meant giving her the remaining ten grand of the winnings that he didn’t tell those assholes about so she could start over. That even meant possibly watching her get together with his best friend when all he wanted to do was keep her for himself. “Irish!” Stopping, he faced her with his hands on his hips, his breath sawing in and out from the exertion. “What?” “I said, did you ever fight?”

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He stared at her for a few long moments, unsure how much to tell her. As much as he hated talking about his past, he felt he owed her a certain amount of reciprocation for her honesty with him last night. But he was afraid if she knew the whole truth, she’d leave, and he couldn’t risk her doing that until he made sure she was in the clear with Sicoli. The Internet made it way too easy to enter a name and have all your secrets spill out in the form of clickable blue links. But Kat didn’t seem the Googling type. Hell, she didn’t even have a cell phone that he knew of. So he’d give her as much as he could for now. That would have to be good enough. Crossing to the mini-fridge, he grabbed two waters, cracked them open, and offered her one before flipping around the other

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metal chair and straddling it. “I used to, a long time ago.” She took a long pull from the bottle and his mouth went dry watching her throat move. When she’d gotten her fill, she leveled him with those baby blues and asked the million dollar question… “So why’d you quit?” …that he couldn’t answer. Not truthfully, anyway. He shrugged and hoped to God she wasn’t a human bullshit detector. “The sport isn’t made for a long career. It’s hard on the body. So instead of risking a major injury, I quit and became a motorcycle mechanic.” “And doing that makes you happy?” Fuck no. “I like bikes, I can turn a wrench, and it pays the bills. What more do I need?”

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“Oh, I don’t know,” she said with extra sarcasm, “maybe some of that fire I saw in your eyes when you were talking about the sport you so obviously love?” “All right, smarty-pants. What would you be if you could do anything?” “That’s easy. I’d be a superhero.” “Come again?” “You know, someone with superpowers like the ability to fly or read minds or—” “Kat, I know what a superhero is. But you don’t exactly strike me as the sort of girl to dress up and attend ComiCons.” “You’re right, I’m not. But you said if I could do anything, right?” His mouth quirked up on one side. “I did indeed. Okay, kitten, enlighten me. What kind of superhero would you be?”

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“Well,” she started thoughtfully, “as cool as it would be to have any kind of superpower, I would want super strength.” “A little unoriginal, but not entirely a bad choice. Why that one?” Kat began playing with the label on her bottle. She picked at the corner until she could pull it off in little strips. She’d withdrawn a little, like a turtle not completely hiding but not willing to keep its neck all the way out where it was vulnerable. “Kat?” “Because then no one could hurt me,” she answered softly. “If I didn’t want someone to touch me, I could make him stop.” Finally she lifted her head, and the rage and pain he saw in her eyes made the animal in him howl. “And then I’d make him pay.”

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The steely resolve in her voice revealed a little girl who’d been mistreated in ways no one ever deserved. She’d had no way to fight back, no way to protect herself. It was no wonder she longed for superpowers. Unfortunately, even if superheroes existed, she clearly wasn’t one of them. So he’d have to make her the next best thing. “Come on,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “Why, what are we doing?” “Giving you superpowers.” “Oh, good,” she said wryly. “And to think, all this time all I had to do was ask.” Aiden walked to a stack of thick blue mats and pulled them out one by one until he’d made a decent area for them to work in. Standing in the middle of the mats, he asked, “Ready?”

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“For what?” “Your first self-defense lesson.” She hesitated. “Really? You could teach me that?” “Yeah. You said you wanted superpowers, and being able to defend yourself against someone no matter what his size is as close to that as you can get. So, you ready?” Wringing her hands together in front of her, she nodded. “Then let’s get started.” For the next two hours, Aiden worked with Kat on different techniques she could use for different situations. He’d only planned on teaching her one or two, but with every move she mastered, her inner strength and confidence grew right before his eyes. Her appetite for the knowledge of how to

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protect herself was voracious. By the end, she knew all the weak points to strike on a person and how to throw him off-balance almost any way he grabbed her. Except for one way in particular he’d steered clear from, unsure how she’d react to being put in that position again so soon. “This is great, Irish, thank you,” she said. “Anything else?” He hesitated, weighing the options of making the suggestion or not. “You wanna know what to do if someone pins you from behind?” Aiden swore he saw the moment her heart skipped, but she bounced back just as quickly, blinking hard a few times as though trying to clear the image of that night in her mind’s eye.

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“Yes,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Yes, I do.” “Are you sure? There’s no pressure. We can do it some other time if you want.” She shook her head. “No, I’d like to try it now.” “All right. Come over here, then.” Aiden crossed to the sidewall and waited for her to gather herself and do the same. Placing his hands on her upper arms, he gently moved her in front of him. Her body tensed and her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. “We’re going to take this nice and slow, kitten. You won’t retain anything I teach you until you learn to trust me and shake the panic reaction. To start, I’m going to put my

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hands right here.” He pressed them to the wall in front of her face. “Right where you can see them, okay?” She nodded. At least she wasn’t so far into her own fears that she couldn’t still hear him. “Good. Now, when you’re ready for me to do more, let me know.”

… Kat focused on his strong hands wrapped in yards of black fabric and his long fingers marked black from grease stains and tattoo ink. Irish directed her to take slow, even breaths—in through her nose, out through her mouth. After a couple of minutes, she finally managed to regulate them, though she didn’t think it had anything to do with the deep breathing. It was—

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“Atta girl, you’re doing fine. Nice and easy.” —that. His voice. Low and raspy and right next to her ear. She’d bet he could melt butter using only the sound of his voice. The vibrations soaked into her skin and traveled in her blood stream to circulate through her body. A warm tingling bloomed deep in her center. She’d never felt anything like it before, but it felt so good and she wanted more. She wanted more of him. “Okay,” she said with a slight quiver. “You can do more.” Please do more. “It’s important you realize the limited motion you’d have if this were real, so I’m gonna step into you close. But I’m leaving my hands where they are for now.” She nodded for fear her voice wouldn’t

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come out right, if at all. He stepped closer, planting his feet just behind and outside of hers. Little by little their bodies connected. First his chest to her shoulder blades, then the hard planes of his abs molded against her back. Finally he pressed his hips forward, joining them in a most intimate way that should have unnerved her but only made the tingling stronger and spread lower. As she stood pinned between the wall and Irish’s body, the fear that had gripped her in the beginning changed to something else entirely: the excited fluttering feelings she had no idea how to describe or what to do about them. Her knowledge of this was exactly zilch. Though she was the furthest thing from a virgin, she had no past experiences—except from the night before—of this

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to go on. Wanting a man’s touch was new to her. The tingling, the butterflies, and the wetness between her thighs, all new. “You okay?” “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m okay.” Deciding it couldn’t hurt to listen to her body’s instincts, she shut the door to her brain, and all the dark memories she wished she could purge, and let herself simply…feel. Closing her eyes, Kat leaned her head back until it settled into the space between his shoulder and neck. His cheek met her temple, then slid lower to brace against her jawline. The warmth of his breath moistened the skin on her neck, and she felt her nipples draw tight. He groaned low in his chest. “How okay?”

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“Unbelievably okay,” she answered on an exhale. Her back arched, clearly needing something, though she didn’t know what. But then Irish leaned them back just enough to make space for his hands, which molded to her breasts, showing her that he knew exactly what she needed. She sucked in a breath at the glorious friction his palms created as they caressed and kneaded the sensitive mounds. Every touch and every pinch zinged straight to her center, building the heat until she literally pulsed with it. A keening moan filled the air, and it took several moments for Kat to realize it had come from her. She reached back and pulled on the backs of his thighs to bring him even closer. His

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mouth moved to her ear to lick the shell, nibble her lobe, then suck the sting away. “How about now? Still okay?” His voice was barely more than a growl against her neck before his lips trailed openmouthed kisses along its length. He was worried she’d freak out again, that he’d do something to trip her defenses. “Irish, I’m good. As long as we keep things slow, I’ll be fine.” “Believe me, I don’t ever plan on rushing anything with you again, sweetheart.” The way he rasped sweethaht pretty much fried all her brain functions. The butterflies kicked things up a notch as his mouth began the long trip back up the side of her throat and his hands slid down her stomach. As his moved lower, hers went up to reach behind

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and dig her nails into the back of his neck and shoulder. Blissed-out didn’t even begin to describe Kat at that moment… Until his hands gripped her hips to pull her against him. Pain pressed in and blazed a trail right through her center, incinerating the butterflies and tingles and replacing them with a split-second montage of her dark memories. Memories of when there was no pleasure. Only pain. Kat jerked, hissed in a breath through her teeth, and released Irish to close in on herself as much as possible between him and the wall. As usual, there was no easy escape. Except that almost just as fast as she’d regressed, Irish had stepped to her side, giving her the opportunity to do just that. But she

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didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t even mean to freak out and wished she could rewind time and brace herself to avoid the reaction. Unfortunately, she still hadn’t figured out how to time travel to prevent things she didn’t want. She’d been wishing for that her entire life. “Kat, I’m sorry, I did it again—” “No, you didn’t.” The muscles in his jaw ticked and he looked away as though disgusted with himself. Placing a hand on his stubbled cheek, she brought his eyes back to hers. The last thing she wanted was for him to take blame for something others had caused. “Irish, you didn’t, I promise. I’m just a little tender on my hips right now from Mullineaux the other night, that’s all.” Within seconds he grew in mass and size.

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His muscles grew bigger, his frame inches taller, and as he looked down at her, shadows fell over his face, making the angles sharper. Kat’s stomach dropped and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. His words scratched the silence like diamonds on glass. “Did that bastard leave marks on you?” “No, I’m fine,” she said with what she hoped was a convincing smile. “Like hell you are.” Kneeling in front of her, he tucked his fingers into the waist of her yoga pants. She instinctively grabbed his wrists, but she couldn’t form the words to protest when he gazed up at her with those sapphire eyes brimming with concern…for her. “Let me see, kitten. Please.” It was the please that did it. That simple

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word said in his butter-melting voice undid her. If he ever figured out the sort of power he could wield with that one word, she’d be in trouble. She released him and forced her hands to her sides as he gently pulled the waistband down just enough to expose the finger marks in front of her hip bones. His breath hissed out from a clenched jaw, then he laid his forehead on her belly. It was too quiet to tell, but she thought she could hear him counting to himself. At a loss of what to do, Kat wove her fingers into the back of his hair, cradling him to her and pretending she had the right to want him for her own. After several minutes, he got up without saying a word and crossed the gym to rifle around in a metal cabinet. He returned with

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a small jar and once again knelt in front of her. “This will help with the bruising. I’ll be as careful as I can, but it might hurt a little as I put it on.” She nodded her assent and held still while he spread the balm where the purple marred her pale skin. When he finished, he slowly lifted her stretchy pants out and over the bruised areas before letting them shrink back to her waist. Rising, he said, “Why don’t you go back in the house? I’ll be up in a little bit.” “Okay. You want me to heat up those eggs Xander made you?” He gave her a strained smile. “That’d be great. I’m starved.” He might be talking food, but the look in

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his eyes revealed his thoughts were much darker. And it worried her. “Irish?” He placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “Go on up to the house, sweetheart.” Damn him, using that accented endearment against her. “Please.” Double damn. There was no use fighting him. Either he’d already discovered the secrets to manipulating her, or the affection and respect came naturally to him. Either way she was screwed for as long as he kept it up. Until then, she’d be waiting for the other shoe to drop, because no way in hell he’d stay like that for long. Eventually he’d lose the polite affection and start barking out orders instead of bothering to ask, much less use the word “please.” Just like every other man she’d known.

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And that might just kill a part of her she didn’t think she could afford to lose. “Hey, no frowns,” he said, tilting her head up. “No being sad or scared. Not here.” She drew up the corners of her mouth. “I’m not.” His exaggerated exhale clearly said, What am I going to do with you? Nessie had done the same thing with her countless times when they were young. “And I want you to stop lying. There’s no reason to lie to me. I’m never gonna judge, blame, or think less of you as long as you’re honest with me. Deal?” “Honesty for honesty?” He hesitated for half a second, but then answered. “Honesty for honesty. Now go on. I’ll be up soon.” Though his tone sounded relaxed, the

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tightness in his jaw claimed otherwise. Kat opened her mouth to question him, but the darkness had returned to his eyes and the words got stuck in her throat. She swallowed them back and turned to leave. When she reached the door, she peered over her shoulder one last time. He stood tall with his legs braced apart, his upper body marked with tattoos and sweat, his wrapped hands fisted at his sides. A modern-day warrior if she’d ever seen one. He took her breath away, but somehow she managed one more request. “Hurry in, okay?” Irish offered a stiff nod, and she let herself out of the makeshift gym, sliding the door closed behind her. She quickly made her way up to the house, but then stopped on the

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steps when she heard muted thumping and growling filtering through the wooden slats of the barn. The noises brought up the images of Irish beating on that hanging bag again, and from the sound of things, there wouldn’t be much left of it when he was through.

Chapter Eleven Late that night, Aiden and Kat pulled into the small parking space she had behind her apartment. He’d taken her to her car still at Lou’s and then followed her home. Cutting his engine, he swung off the bike and waited for her to get out of the car. She’d tried convincing him he didn’t need to see her home, but he wouldn’t hear any of it. It was bad enough he couldn’t give her a good enough

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reason to stay at his place without raising suspicion. He wasn’t taking any chances he didn’t have to with her safety. When he’d seen Mullineaux’s marks on her earlier, he’d almost lost it. After she’d gone back to the house, he’d had to count to more than a hundred before he trusted himself to not get on his bike and hunt the prick down like the cur he was. Aiden’s mom had raised him to know that a man’s place was to protect and cherish the women in his life. He couldn’t fathom consciously choosing to harm a woman in any way. It was not only despicable, but inexcusable. Unfortunately, Aiden’s actions, though not a conscious choice, had results that were just as devastating. When he reacted to situations without thinking, those around him got hurt.

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Or worse. And there was that harsh reminder of why he couldn’t let himself get too close to Kat. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her while he was trying to protect her. He couldn’t handle another situation like the one with Janey. Not again. Not fucking ever. The sobriety and complete lack of fighting had helped keep him in check the last several years, but the biggest reason he hadn’t had a meltdown was because he held people at arm’s length. If he didn’t care about them, he wouldn’t snap. Simple as that. The night before, he’d convinced himself that he could pretend for one night with Kat. Allow himself to believe that none of that stuff in the past existed. But as soon as he

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glimpsed the skeletons of her past, putting his aside was no longer an option. Comforting her was all that mattered. When they saw each other that morning, it was obvious the sexual tension hadn’t dissipated overnight. Still, he hadn’t meant to act on it. Had even warned himself off several times during their self-defense lessons when it would have been so easy to pull her in and kiss her until neither of them could breathe. As long as he’d focused on the lessons—and the reason she needed them—he’d been strong enough to keep things platonic. But he’d proved too weak when her body signals went from learning to arousal as he stood pressed against her from behind. And he’d tapped out the moment she leaned her head back, inviting him to sample the

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smooth length of her throat, to feel her pulse jump beneath his lips. In seconds he’d been drunk on the taste of her and lost in the moment. Until he’d accidentally hurt her. The last thing Aiden wanted was for Kat to be harmed, mentally or physically, by anybody, least of all him. However, a small part of him had been thankful for the bruises that jerked him back to reality before he took her against the barn wall like a fucking animal. If the night before was anything to go on, that for sure would have set her off. She didn’t deserve that type of careless treatment. He’d never been the romantic type, but something about Kat inspired him to want to care for her, be tender with her. Make love to her. Make love. He’d never used that term

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before, much less done anything close to it. There’d been women he cared about before, but he’d been careful not to throw the Lword around. Now, two days in with this girl and he already had the word in his head, regardless of why. “You don’t have to come up, Irish.” “It’s no trouble,” he said. “Besides, if I didn’t make sure you got in safely, my mother would box my ears.” A grin hitched up the corner of her mouth. “Your mother isn’t here.” “You don’t know my mother. She has a sixth sense for when her children aren’t acting the way she raised us. I’d get a phone call, believe me. Now scoot.” Chuckling, she walked ahead of him toward the door in the alley that led to the

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inside stairs. Aiden’s senses were on high alert, making sure nothing and no one was lurking in the shadows with bad intentions. She unlocked the door and swung it open, but just as they were stepping through, he heard something so quiet he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t his imagination. “Wait a minute.” “What—” “Shh,” he said, holding up two fingers and turning his head toward where he thought the sound had come from. Several long moments went by with nothing. He was about to give up when he heard it again, more distinctly this time: a tiny mewl coming from a dark corner. Aiden crossed the alley and reached down to pick up the scrawny gray tiger kitten. He

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only got it a few inches off the ground when he was pulled up short. The kitten hissed and clawed at his arm until he set him back down. Using the light from his phone, he took a better look. Seemed the frayed ends of the rug the kitten had been laying on had tangled around his back leg. Probably hurt like a bitch, or might even be tight enough to cut off circulation. Aiden stepped over to his bike and retrieved the pocketknife from under the seat. A single slice and he had the kitten free. He squirmed and hissed some more, but settled down as soon as Aiden cradled him against his chest. Kat poked her head around from behind him. “Awww. Is it okay?”

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“He’s purring now, but he’s got some threads wrapped around his leg.” “Oh, you poor little thing,” she crooned, scratching him under the jaw and between the ears. “Do you think his mom left him because he was caught?” “Yeah, most likely.” “Well, let’s get him upstairs,” she said, leading the way again. “We can get a better look at him up there.” “There’s gotta be a Humane Society around here somewhere. I’ll take him there tomorrow.” Kat stopped short. “What? No! I’m keeping him.” Aiden had a hard time fighting a smile. She reminded him of Mary Catherine again, minus the foot stomp and pouting lip.

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Something told him if he argued with her, he’d see those, too. “Okay, then.” He bent down and placated her with a kiss on the forehead. “A kitten for my kitten.” She scrunched up her nose. “That’s a little cheesy, even for you, big boy.” “Big boy,” he said as they walked up to her apartment. “That a fat joke?” The tinkling sound of her laughter echoed in the narrow stairwell. “That comment Xander made this morning really bothered you, didn’t it?” “What, are you kidding? That chucklehead couldn’t bother me if he tried.” Unlocking her door and letting them in, she said, “If you say so.” Aiden looked around discreetly, trying to determine if anything had been disturbed

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since the night before. He wasn’t even sure how the creeps had gotten in, but it didn’t appear as though they’d returned. Kat bent down and shoved a towel under the door. “What’s that for?” “The door has a huge gap under it. If I don’t stuff it with a towel, the A/C ends up cooling the stairwell.” Crossing the small room, she flipped the dial on the window unit, bringing it to life with a rattle and hum. He hated that she’d been living in this dump for so long. He tried to find solace in the fact that in a couple of weeks, he could give her enough money to get a decent place wherever she decided to head after all this was over. But the idea of her being anywhere other than with him wasn’t very conducive for solace-finding.

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Mentally swearing at himself for the momentary departure from reality, he turned his focus on the kitten. “I’ll see what I can do about getting the rest of this string off.” He sat on the futon while she riffled through her dresser. The kitten hunkered down in his lap, apparently deciding that was the safest place to be in this strange environment. “Poor thing is probably starving and I don’t— Oh! I think I have some tuna.” While she went hunting for that, Aiden used his knife and cut through the remaining strands as gently as he could. The kitten made some low growls, warning his rescuer that he wasn’t completely onboard with the plan. But as soon as he was free, the little thing started to purr again.

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“There,” he whispered to him. “You’ll be good as new soon, and then you get to spend the rest of your days in that pretty girl’s lap.” He scratched between his ears and the kitten closed his eyes and leaned into it. “Lucky bastard.” “Okay,” Kat said, hurrying to him. “I put some tuna on a plate and a bowl of water in the corner. Then I bunched my Snuggie up on the floor, thinking he might like that to sleep on. I don’t know, though, what do you think?” He smiled as he stood with the kitten. “I think that sounds good. Come on, we’ll see if he’s hungry.” They took him to the food and barely set him down before his nose was in the plate. “I guess that answers that question.”

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She laughed and sat on the floor facing the kitten, her right shoulder and head leaning against the wall. He did the same on the other side and propped his arm up on a bent knee. With her focus on the little chowhound, he took advantage of the rare opportunity to simply watch her. She’d pulled her hair to the left side and braided it that morning. The thick rope of hair lay against her neck with the ends reaching the top swell of her left breast. Since she was looking down, her auburn lashes hid most of her light blue eyes from his gaze, but he knew they’d be alight with a stolen moment of happiness in watching something thrive under her care. There was a peacefulness in the slight smile on her face and the relaxed set of her shoulders.

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Then something broke the spell. Her brows knitted together and she frowned. “I still can’t believe it’s over so easily.” She raised her eyes to his. “What did you say to them to make them back off?” Shit. He fought the urge to look away from her. “What difference does it make what was said or done? I told you I’d take care of it and I did. You’re no longer responsible for getting them Sicoli’s money.” Kat lifted her head from the wall and stared him down. “Irish, tell me you didn’t pay them off with your own money.” “It’s been a long time since I’ve had twenty grand just lyin’ around.” Kat’s eyebrows rose. “Did you used to have that much money lying around?” He shrugged and said, “I did all right for

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myself when I was fighting. You can make a lot of money if you get good fights that people want to see, and you get bonus purses for things like fight of the night, submission of the night, etcetera. But that was a long time ago.” Not nearly long enough to burn through the kind of money he’d had in his bank account from fighting, and yet in less than a week after Janey’s death, he’d left himself with only a fraction of what he’d had. The rest he’d anonymously split up between Janey’s mother and a donation to the hospital for a new drug outreach program in her name. But barely existing didn’t cost much. All he needed was food, water, and a roof over his head. Kind of like the fur ball there.

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Aiden watched the kitten lick his chops from the first meal he’d had in who knew how long. Kat moved the tiny animal to the bowl of water and made light splashes with her finger to get his attention. After he’d lapped his fill, she placed him lovingly on the blanket. He kneaded it until it suited him, then he curled up and promptly fell asleep. Funny, Aiden thought. Tiger stripes on leopard print. “Have you thought of a name yet?” He kept his voice soft. Probably so he wouldn’t disturb the fur ball’s dreams. Maybe so he wouldn’t disturb the moment with a kitten of a more feminine sort. She looked thoughtful for a minute then whispered, “What’s your middle name?” “I’m not gonna tell you my middle name.

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No guy ever tells a girl his middle name.” “Why not?” “’Cause they use it against us when they’re mad, that’s why not.” Kat whisper-laughed, if there was such a thing, behind her hand. Seeing the light in her eyes egged him on. “We could be watching the game with our pals and they’ll holler across the house, ‘Anthony Michael Hall, you’re in a lotta fucking trouble!’” Still laughing, she asked, “Did you just use the dorky guy’s name from Sixteen Candles?” Aiden couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so big, much less laughed. But it turned out she was more than a little infectious. “He was in a lot more movies than that, but yeah. He was the first guy I could think of with three names.”

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“Okay, then I’ll tell you my middle name and we’ll have equal advantage.” He’d love to know her middle name. He’d love to know everything about her. “All right, but you first.” “Terese,” she said. “It’s a family name. My mother’s aunt, I think. Okay, now spill it.” He let out a resigned breath. “Murphy. Family name on my father’s side. Happy now?” Her bright smile said she was, and damn if he didn’t want to make sure she stayed that way every day of her life. She kissed the pads of her fingers and lightly placed them on the kitten’s head. “Sweet dreams, Murphy.” Ah, hell, the woman was killing him for sure. Rising from the floor, he helped her up and crossed toward the door so he wouldn’t

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have to whisper anymore. He cleared his throat and stuck his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t reach out for her. “I should go. Let you get some sleep.” He opened the apartment door and added, “Make sure you lock up behind me.” “Irish?” “Yeah?” Standing in the middle of the room in that damn uniform again—if he had his way he’d burn that fucking thing and never let her wear anything other than colorful sundresses—she twisted her fingers together and chewed on her lip for a few seconds. Maybe she was nervous about her safety. The only reason he wasn’t was because he knew the assholes were right across the street and they knew she was in her apartment thanks to the

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metal chunk in her arm. They had no reason to bother her as long as they knew where she was and he held up his end of the bargain. “You’ll be safe, I promise. Those guys aren’t coming anywhere near you ever again.” Or I’ll personally tear out their insides. “I know that. I trust you.” Jesus, twist the knife a little more. “Then what is it?” “When you said you could only give me one night…” Just the mention of having her at all had him getting hard in his jeans. “Yeah?” “Well, we didn’t really get that. So I thought maybe tonight you could, I don’t know…stay?” The hand on the doorknob tightened.

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Pressing the metal into his palm until it hurt was the only thing keeping him sane while she nervously asked him for something that both excited and scared her. “You sure, kitten?” She swallowed hard and nodded. Holding her gaze, he closed the door, flipped the locks, and secured the chain before slowly walking to her. His hands moved to her small waist as he stepped in close. Her hands slid up his arms and stopped at his elbows as though she wasn’t sure she should hold him any closer. He hated that there was any space between them, but he’d allow her her baby steps if that’s what she needed to feel safe. Ever so gently, he kissed her lips. She didn’t shy away, but met him with a quiet

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intensity of her own. He let her set the pace and take the lead. He didn’t want to take things further until he was sure she was ready. They came together again and again, sometimes pressing firmly as they breathed each other in. Sometimes touching with no more than a whisper as they teased themselves with the promise of more. It was that “more” that had Aiden’s cock straining for release and his brain fighting it back to wait until she made the first move. Then again, maybe she wasn’t as ready as she’d thought. Pulling back, he cupped her face with his hands to still her. “I don’t want you to think we have to do anything you don’t want. Sex is not a condition of my staying the night. I can just hold you and be perfectly happy with

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that.” “I’m not hesitating because I don’t want to be with you. I know you’ll stop if I tell you.” She lowered her gaze and a slight flush colored her cheeks as she whispered, “I’ve never had that before.” A silent rage washed through him for the horrors she must have endured in her past. “Look at me.” He waited the extra second it took her to obey before speaking again. “No man should ever push you for more than you can give. You have a goodness inside of you, Kat. And that goodness recognizes itself in others. So you listen to that. Trust it. And don’t go near anybody who doesn’t have what you got. You understand?” She took a while to answer, like the concept had to sink in past all the negative

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shit that had built up in her head over the years. Finally, she nodded. He pretended that the need to give her a pep talk like that didn’t break his heart and moved on. “So tell me what you want, sweetheart.” “I want my night with you. But I’m scared I’ll slip inside myself again. I mean, what if I can’t be with a man without doing that? What if somehow I’m broken?” “Baby, you’re not the one who’s broken. The assholes who mistreated you, they’re the broken ones. You did what you had to do to survive them.” Worry etched her face as she shook her head. “But I did it with you just last night and I knew you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. I wanted what we were doing.” She was right. Something had triggered it

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and neither of them knew what. He’d give anything for a psychology degree right about now. “So we’ll go slow and if I see you start to fade, we’ll stop. There’s no pressure, and you can lead. I won’t make a move unless you do.” Again she shook her head. “No, I don’t think— Can…” She took a deep breath and pleaded with her light blue eyes. “Can you lead, but do the going-slow thing?” Aiden wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her close forever so no one could ever put that look in her eyes again. The people who wronged her when she was young should be bound and tortured as they’d done to her, whatever it was. Maybe someday he’d do some hunting, but his only concern now was to give her what she

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wanted—what they both wanted—and show her how good he could make it for her. “Ah, kitten, I can do more than that.” Picking up the end of her braid, he slid the elastic from it and began to unweave her hair. “I wanna make you feel things you never thought possible.” He brushed the goldenred waves behind her shoulders and sank his fingers through them at her nape. “I wanna give you nothing but good things to remember from now on. So the past can never touch you again.” And with that promise, he kissed her. Aiden entered her mouth and stroked her tongue with his, guiding her in the erotic dance. Not fast or forceful, but slow and deliberate. He took his time with each step before progressing to the next. He wanted her

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to feel every moment, every connection their bodies made. They broke apart, their breaths sawing in and out. With every exhale, a measure of tension left her body even as her pulse raced beneath his thumbs. Blue eyes bright with desire caged him. Swollen cherry lips tempted him. He breathed her in, then went back for more.

… They kissed with an earnest restraint. Their breath, erratic as air, became secondary to the need for each other. Hands roamed and groped, but with a slowness that defied their intensity. Aligning their bodies, he rolled his hips, pressing his hard length against her sex. He

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hit a certain spot and a hot spark of pleasure set off deep in her belly. She gasped and her knees buckled for a split second. It was intense, unlike any sensation she’d felt before. And she wanted more of it. Lots more. “Do that again.” “What, this?” He did it again, harder. She swore and dropped her head back as she relished the tingles that zinged along her nerve endings. Irish attacked her neck. Licking. Sucking. Biting. Oh, damn, that feels good. That shouldn’t feel good, should it? Biting should hurt. It would leave marks. So then why do you want him to do it again? Because she was fucked up, that’s why.

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Good girls—normal girls—wouldn’t like it. But she wasn’t either of those things, so there was no use dwelling on it. He reached down with one hand and grabbed her ass. She palmed his erection over the fly of his jeans. He hissed in a breath and bucked into her hand. “Fuck, baby.” She whimpered as her hips rocked back and forth of their own volition, her body clenching on an emptiness that made her want to cry. “Shh, I know. A little at a time, sweetheart.” Irish pressed one of his thighs between hers. Her pelvis rolled forward yet again, but this time she rode the unyielding muscle against her core. She gasped as the friction and pressure eased an ache inside

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her while igniting an entirely new one that tightened by fractions deep in her belly. He rucked up her tight skirt and pulled the elastic waistband of her thong down so it hooked beneath her ass. His talented tongue continued to distract her from her fears as he cupped her bare flesh, each of his large hands encompassing a cheek with his fingertips tucking into her crevice. Wanting to assure herself she affected him as much as he did her, she ran the heel of her palm down the length of his rigid cock. He groaned in her mouth and his hands squeezed reflexively, pulling her ass apart and stretching the delicate skin between. She inhaled sharply at the slight sting and cried out as her womb clenched even tighter and trickled more liquid heat onto his leg.

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He buried his face in her neck with a mumbled, “Jesus Christ.” “What’s wrong?” “Nothing’s wrong.” He pulled back enough to look at her. “In fact, something’s very right.” She furrowed her brow, not understanding. With the pad of his thumb, he smoothed the worry from her forehead. “Stop worrying. Your body’s just telling me what it likes, is all.” “It is?” she asked breathlessly. “Yeah, it is,” he said with a quirky smile. “And the last thing it said was wicked pissa.” Okay, she knew in Crazy Boston Speak “wicked pissa” somehow meant “awesome,” but how could Irish know what she wanted when she didn’t have the first clue? “Well?” she prompted a tad impatiently.

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“Are you going to tell me what exactly it is it’s saying?” “No.” No? “Why not?” “Because we’re taking things slow, remember? And that,” he said with a nip on her lower lip, “is nowhere near slow.” She huffed at the shit-eating grin on his face. He merely chuckled. “I can tell you that your body says it wants me,” he boasted before latching those magical lips to her neck again. Kat knew pride was about to make her eat her size seven shoe, but like a runaway train, she couldn’t stop it. “I suppose that’s possible. Or maybe,” she taunted even as she had to choke back a moan when he hit some special spot below her ear, “I’m just really

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good at faking it.” He eased back, his eyes narrowed to slits, and she swore she heard a growl. “Oh, it fucking wants me, all right. There’s no faking the way your sweet nipples harden every time I touch you.” Proving his point, he dragged his callused thumbs over her shirt-covered, distended buds. Her traitorous body arched into his touch and that sensation of a band twisting in her core tightened. Irish licked the shell of her ear and nipped the edge. The gravel in his voice tumbled through her body until she settled her weight on his muscular thigh. “And you can’t fake how hot and wet you get for me—only me, kitten.” He reached between them and deftly slipped past the silk, doing little more than

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stamping a damp triangle on his thigh. “Right…” The twisting got tighter and tighter. “…here,” he finished as he dragged a thick finger through her soaked slit and glanced over the sensitive nub at the top. She cried out his name and lost the thread as he kept up the assault. With every passing moment, Kat lost herself that much more. Her body felt flushed, covered with a fine sheen of sweat, and her panties were soaked through. Her skin was so sensitive, like her nerves were exposed, and every little sensation was hard-wired to her sex in a strange pleasure/pain. She writhed in frustration. Was she doing something wrong? Maybe part of her really didn’t work right. This needing something was making her fucking crazy!

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“Make it stop, Irish,” she begged. “Oh, God, I can’t take it, please make it stop.” He froze. “Make what stop, Kat? Does something hurt?” “Yes, no, shit, I don’t know. I want you to stop and keep going all at the same time. Like everything that feels good also kind of hurts, you know?” Of course he didn’t know. She wasn’t making any damn sense. Squeezing her eyes shut, she covered her face with her hands and prayed for a rip in the fabric of time that would take her away from this humiliating situation. “Oh, God, I knew something was wrong with me.” “Hey, I already told you nothing’s wrong with you,” he said, pulling her hands down, but she remained in the darkness behind her lids. “I wanna ask you something. Come on,

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look at me.” The tone of his voice wasn’t mocking or angry. He sounded genuinely concerned. Taking a deep breath, she obeyed the gentle command and stared up into his tender eyes. “Kat, have you ever had an orgasm?”

Chapter Twelve “I don’t know.” She looked up at him, her brows drawn together in what he suspected was a mix of sexual frustration and concern she was damaged goods. “What’s it feel like?” Holy hell. He knew she’d never found pleasure with a man before, but he never would have guessed she wouldn’t have brought herself to climax over the years. No wonder she was confused. She already

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expected her body’s reactions to be messed up, so it made sense that riding the edge of an orgasm would freak her out. “That would be a ‘no,’ then,” he answered. “But if I had to guess from the way you described it, you were close just now. They’re kinda crazy feeling at first. It builds and builds deep in your gut, right?” She nodded, and some of her worry seemed to disappear at hearing that he understood. “Yes.” “Well, if we don’t stop,” he said, adding a wicked grin, “and I do my job right, all of that builds up to something you’ll want to feel over and over again.” “Oh.” She still appeared unsure. “Do I have to do anything?” “Yeah,” he rasped. “Hold on tight.”

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Now that her nerves were back, he’d have to start from the beginning and earn her trust all over again. Kissing eased her into things, probably built up all those butterfly feelings girls were always talking about. Aiden didn’t mind in the least. Kissing Kat wasn’t any kind of hardship. So he did. He’d never wanted any woman with such a ferocity as he did her. It was all he could do to think straight. The very idea of bringing Kat to her first orgasm, of watching her break apart in his arms, made his dick throb and the tip leak with pre-cum. And he wasn’t just going to give her her first. He laid claim to her first several. If he only got her for a night, he’d make sure it was so intense that she’d measure every sexual encounter by it.

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He would set the bar for her future lovers. Aiden wrapped one arm around her waist, and his other hand snaked between their bodies again to dive beneath the small scrap of underwear. He forced himself to pull away from her kiss so he could watch her unravel as he parted her slick folds with his middle finger. She gasped and her fingers convulsed on his shoulders. “That’s it,” he encouraged, sliding front to back to front again, spreading her juices along the sensitive lips of her pussy. “I’m gonna get you there fast to take the edge off. I promise to take my time later.” He found her swollen clit and circled it with the rough tip of his finger. Her eyes flew wide and her knees buckled for a split second

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before she regained control. “Take your time?” she squeaked, now clenching fistfuls of his T-shirt. “How much time?” “Oh, sweetheart…” Pushing his finger back, he dipped in and rimmed her tight opening. Kat whimpered against his neck. He felt her juices on the back of his hand. The cloying scent of her arousal had his balls drawing up tight with anticipation. He tucked his head down and let his words tickle her ear. “If I had a mind to, I could keep you on the brink for as long as I wanted.” She shook her head. “That would be torture. Why would you do that?” Aiden eased his middle finger into her channel little by little, while the pad of his

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thumb worked her clit. “Because it’s the best kind of torture. Because when I finally let you, you’ll come so hard you won’t know where you end and I begin,” he promised. She threw her head back, lost in the moment. The ends of her golden-red waves caressed his forearm. Her breathing became shallow and a moan accompanied every few exhales. He worked his finger in and out. Jesus, she was so hot and tight. Her walls were already swelling with her building climax. She was close. And getting closer. “Oh, God, Irish. It’s so— So—” “I know, baby, you’re almost there.” His cock jerked behind his zipper, begging for its own release, but he beat his desires back into submission. He refused to take any

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pleasure for himself unless he was certain she was ready to give it. Until then, he’d indulge himself by giving her the sort of experiences a woman deserved. Experiences she should have had long before now, and yet he couldn’t help being glad she’d have them all with him first. “Let go for me. Let it happen.” Aiden plunged a second finger deep inside her as his thumb pressed against her clitoris. With a keening cry, she flew apart in his arms. Her swollen walls pulsated and milked his fingers for endless seconds. Eventually the rapture relaxed her features as she slowly came back to herself, appearing dazed and content. As he pulled out from her body, he studied her carefully. Her pupils were blown, but her

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eyes were clear and focused. “You still with me, kitten?” She gave him a weak nod and sheepish smile. “Still with you.” “Good,” he said, kissing her briefly. “Wait here.” He grabbed the mattress from the futon and set it on the floor, placing her pillow at one end. Then he turned off the lights. He wasn’t giving a show to anyone who might be watching. On the floor, they were out of view from the windows, and he’d still be able to see her with the glow from the tattoo shop’s sign. Holding her hands, he helped lower her then followed her down until he was stretched out next to her, bracing himself up on one forearm. Again he started with more

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kissing, but now he pushed her through the steps much faster. It wasn’t long before he felt her relax, giving him the assurance he could move forward. He trailed his lips down the line of her jaw and kissed down her throat and back up again. When he got to her ear, he let her know his plans. “I’m gonna undress you, sweetheart. I wanna kiss and touch you all over this beautiful body. Can I do that?” She let out a soft moan and arched her back slightly. “I need to hear you say it, Kat.” She turned her face toward him and exhaled a “yes” just before locking their mouths together. That she took even that small of an initiative made him burn hotter. He made quick work of removing her clothes while managing to not rip them off like a

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crazed Neanderthal. He pulled his T-shirt off so he’d be able to feel her, skin to skin, but kept his jeans on in case that would seem too far, too fast for her. Aiden only had a few moments to look his fill so she wouldn’t have time to let her fears creep back in. Slender, with pert breasts and hair flowing around her face and shoulders, she resembled a graceful pixie. He returned to her neck and whispered words of encouragement between kisses. He told her how beautiful she was, how special, how brave. And while he did and said all that, his hand caressed her stomach and inched its way toward her breasts. Finally, he stroked the underside of one as his head dipped down to take the other hard peak in his mouth.

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The previous night, he’d devoured them. Now he teased them. Kat arched her back, a clear sign that she was in the moment, her body encouraging him. He licked circles around her areola and lightly tweaked her other nipple. Logically, he knew a person couldn’t taste like candy, but hell if he knew how else to explain it. Her skin was smooth as silk and sweet and pliant as saltwater taffy. And damn if he didn’t want to eat her up. “Stop,” she cried, her palms pushing against his shoulders. His stomach dropped as his world halted on its axis. Instantly, he lifted up to find her eyes shut and her teeth clamped on her lower lip. “Hey, come here.” He gathered her in his arms and rested his cheek on the top of her

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head. “Talk to me. What is it?” “It started happening. When things get to a certain point, I shut down. It’s like something in me can’t tell the difference between then and now.” Aiden ran a hand down her hair, trying to soothe her as best he could. He wracked his brain trying to find a solution or even a clue of something that would help her get past this. “The big difference between then and now is me, right?” “Yes,” she mumbled into his shoulder, “but my stupid body isn’t getting the memo.” “Hey, your body happens to be one of my favorite things right now, so I’ll thank you not to insult it.” She gave him a weak chuckle and an equally weak slap on the chest. Better

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than tears. “I don’t think your body’s the problem. I think it responds pretty well, if you know what I mean. So, I don’t know, maybe it’s your brain.” “That doesn’t make sense. I know it’s you.” “Yeah, but you’re not seeing me.” She pulled back to look up at him. “I see you just fine.” “Not when we’re doing things. Your eyes are always closed. But what if…” He held her gaze and swiped the rough pad of his thumb across her pebbled nipple. She inhaled sharply, and her pupils blew wide again. “What if you kept your eyes open?” Kat swallowed thickly and licked her lips. “I don’t know.” “Then let’s give it a shot. Worst that can

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happen is you stop me again. Okay?” “Okay,” she whispered. He gently pushed her down on her back with her head resting on the pillow and positioned himself between her legs. Keeping eye contact, he moved down so his head was level with her breasts. “Eyes stay open and on me,” he ordered. With the flat of his tongue, he lapped at her nipple, reveling in the way her breath hitched and her pelvis rocked against his hard stomach. He circled it a few times, then sucked it into his mouth, watching her face as the pleasure replaced the frustration. Experimenting, he nipped the side of her breast. She moaned. He wasn’t a shrink, but until he saw otherwise, his theory seemed to hold water. And,

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holy shit, if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever. Sliding lower, he kissed his way down her soft belly until he reached her bare mound. He stood corrected. That was the hottest thing ever. Tearing his eyes away, he glanced up and made sure she was still following the plan. “You still with me, kitten?”

… You still with me, kitten? His voice rasped over her senses, the low and throaty sound causing shivers to race up her spine. That simple phrase made her knees weak every time he said it. Kat answered with a nod, but then remembered the speaking rule and offered a timid “yes.” She’d never been more “with” anyone in her life. Irish made her more

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aware of her body than she ever thought possible. Until him, it had just been a vessel. A shell to walk around in and use as a tool for basic survival. But the first time he touched her, she’d felt a zing of electricity that breathed life into her cells after years of dormancy. “Good girl.” Positioning his hands under her thighs, he angled her pelvis up toward his mouth. He used his thumbs on the outside of her lips and spread her open to his view. The catch with her keeping her eyes on him was that he wasn’t required to do the same. He could look his fill wherever he wanted, and apparently right then what he wanted to see was right in front of him. Kat had spent a lifetime feeling vulnerable, but this was a different kind of

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vulnerable. It didn’t frighten her or make her wish for superpowers to escape it. The vulnerability Irish made her feel was one of excitement and wonder. Everything with him was new and thrilling with an edge of apprehension for the unknown. But now, as she lay naked in the most vulnerable position imaginable, the edge of apprehension was more of a cliff and she was dangling by her fingertips. Would it feel good? Would he like doing it to her? What if she reacted wrong or didn’t like it? Would he be disappointed? The uncertainty of it all was almost too much to bear. Looking down her body, she watched as he placed kisses on the inside of her left thigh and trailed them down until he was inches from her center, then he repeated it on the

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right. From this vantage point, all she saw was his mussed black hair and tanned muscular shoulders covered with the beautiful art of his tattoos. To see so much power between her legs was intimidating. He paused, hovering over her slick flesh as though committing every detail to memory… Or maybe unwilling to go any further… A fluttering of nerves and insecurity kicked up in her belly. “Irish?” “You’re so beautiful.” Peering up at her, he gave her a firm reminder. “Eyes stay on me.” He lowered his head and held her gaze as he licked one fold and then the other. She forgot to breathe. Feeling the wet heat from his tongue while watching the act was a carnal combination that shot fire through her center.

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She expected his next move to go right up the middle, but he stayed at the top, where his tongue probed and flicked the sensitive bud nestled there. Her hips jerked, and she felt a rush of warmth in her center. Using the flats of his hands, Irish opened her completely. Hunger flashed in the deep blue of his eyes, then he dipped his head and lapped up every drop her body spilled before tonguing her opening like a man starved. Her body writhed on the mattress as though possessed, but his mouth never broke contact. Sensations, indescribable to her inexperienced body, filtered through her in waves that grew more intense with each passing second. She had to fight to keep her eyes from rolling into the back of her head when he pushed two fingers inside her and

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sucked on her clit in pulses he timed with every thrust. Vibrations hummed in her extremities—her fingers and toes and at the roots of her hair—then rushed in toward her center, gathering strength. Was a second time even possible? This was insane. It was—was— “Oh-God-oh-God-Ohhhhh!” Every muscle in her body seized while the blood rushed through her at warp speeds. The inner walls of her channel convulsed involuntarily, ticking off the seconds it took for the euphoria to ebb little by little. Irish kissed his way up her body until his hips were cradled between her legs and his forearms held most of his weight on either side of her head. Despite feeling short of breath, Kat fused her mouth to his.

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Breathing was now a luxury. Kissing him had become necessity. Slow and sultry, they explored each other as though for the first time. Her hands framing his face, their heads moving from side to side to center. Lifting her heavy lids, she found herself gazing into the fathomless blue of his eyes. The connection between them hummed in her veins and sank deep in her bones. Kat slipped her hands down his neck, trailed them over his chest. She fingered his nipple piercings, causing him to suck in a breath and the tendons in his neck to stand out. Watching such a visceral reaction on him from something she did bolstered her confidence. But could she bring herself to use it?

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Making a decision, she reached for the button on his jeans. He stopped kissing her and stared. She wished to hell her hands weren’t shaking. It made it damn hard to strip Irish properly, not to mention convince him that this was something she truly wanted. Leave it to her to make a bumbling fool of herself while laying naked in front of the first man she’d ever wanted. She squeezed her eyes shut. “God, I’m so bad at this.” “What’re you talking about?” “I don’t know how to be sexy. I can’t even get your pants undone.” “Look at me.” She did. “The fact that you don’t know how incredibly sexy you are makes you that much sexier. And don’t worry about getting my pants undone. I’ve

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been doing it for years, and I’m more than willing to help out.” His crooked smile was contagious. “My hero,” she said. Irish pushed himself up to his feet and unbuttoned his fly. The glow of the neon bathed his body in light and shadows. From this vantage point, he appeared even more massive. A giant looming over her with blue lightning in his eyes. He dragged his zipper down. She held her breath and listened to it cut through each of its teeth holding back her ultimate reward. Finally, his thumbs hooked the top and pushed them down and off completely, taking with them the boxer briefs underneath. When he straightened, the breath she’d been holding took advantage of her shock and

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made a break for it. While he retrieved a condom from his wallet and did his thing, she studied his impressive size and briefly panicked about him fitting. She already felt so tight and swollen. As he lowered himself between her legs again, the concern must have shown on her face. “What’s the matter, baby?” “At the risk of inflating your ego to mammoth proportions…” “I like where this is going,” he said. “You’re really…big.” He chuckled and buried his face in her neck. “I’ll fit perfectly.” “But—” She gasped as two fingers slid deep inside her. “How do you know?” “Because you’re already wet again for me.”

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God help her, she didn’t think it possible, but she was. “Your body wants mine. It’ll open up for me, I promise.” Kat dragged out a moan and rocked her hips as he added a wicked twist to his thrusting fingers. How much longer did he plan on teasing her? She’d had enough foreplay. She wanted the main event. “Then prove it,” she said, the challenge clear. He lifted his head and held her gaze. Bracing himself on one forearm, he used his other hand to pull her knee up close to his body. She felt the head of his erection slip into place. Then he flexed forward and breached her entrance one millimeter at a time. The ripples flowing through her gained in strength the more he filled her, the more he

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stretched her. Never had she imagined she’d ever welcome an invasion of her body so completely. Sweat broke out on his forehead, his jaw worked, and his nostrils flared with every breath. The effort it took him to hold himself back was impressive. She was as equally glad for his control as she was frustrated with it. She felt his cock hit the back wall of her vagina and assumed that was as far as he could go. But then he adjusted the angle of her hips and slid in another inch, releasing a keening cry from her lips. “Ah, fuck, that feels good,” he ground out. “Eyes on me, baby.” Kat didn’t realize she’d raised them to stare sightlessly at the ceiling. She refocused on his beautiful, strong face.

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“That’s my girl. Now stay with me. Nice and easy.” He started to withdraw from her body. She wanted to weep. At the loss. At the intensity of the heat swirling in her belly. At the tenderness he offered with every move, every look. He’d been right. She fit perfectly around him, as though her body couldn’t bear not doing the impossible to welcome him, hold him. Every stroke felt better than the last. Every push a new revelation of pleasure. Seconds melted into minutes. Minutes stretched into eternity. An eternity of connecting with this man on levels she never knew existed, never imagined reaching even if they did exist. Irish changed the pace. Still just as

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deliberate, but with an added urgency. Soft grunts came from the back of his throat with every thrust. Her breaths mixed with moans. Fingernails dug into the hard muscles of his back. Kat’s vision started to blur. She was almost certainly suffering from sensory overload. No human could possibly take this immense amount of pleasure and survive. But he showed no signs of slowing, no signs of stopping. She was a goner. There was nothing for her to do but ride the wave and pray she washed up on land somewhat intact. Having had two orgasms only minutes earlier, she recognized standing at the precipice of another. Only this time all she could do was look over the edge. Something held her back from achieving that explosion of

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perfect release and the serene fall back to earth. And the longer she stood at the edge, the more the line between pleasure and pain blurred. “Goddamn, I’m close. I can’t hold back anymore, Kat. I need to feel you come around me.” “I can’t,” she said. “It won’t work.” “Hell, yes, it will.” Reaching between them as he continued pumping inside her, he found her clit with the rough pad of his thumb and rubbed. “Irish!” Her hips jerked hard as a current of vibrations blazed straight up her center. “Aiden.” “What?” “My name is Aiden,” he growled as he pushed into her again. “Say it, Kat.”

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Aiden Murphy O’Brien. He gave me his whole name. And he wants to hear it from my lips. Something new swelled inside her in the vicinity of her heart, but she’d have to process that later. Every available brain cell had been taken hostage for the myriad of sensations firing through every nerve, every cell in her body. “Oh, God, yes,” she cried. “Aiden!” His muscles tensed, becoming smooth skin over stone, as he buried himself to the hilt one last time and succumbed to his release. He pressed on her swollen bud and she followed him happily into the ether. In the minutes that followed, Kat was vaguely aware of him saying he’d be right back. All she could do was lie boneless on the

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mattress. If her life depended on her running or even standing at this point, she’d be a dead woman. Irish knelt down next to her—wearing his damn jeans again—and helped her into his gigantic T-shirt. His scent comforted her almost as much as he did. Closing her eyes, she lifted the soft cotton to her nose and breathed in deep. “Take it easy or you’ll need a lint trap up there.” Lying next to her, he pulled her into his strong arms. He kissed her on the top of her head, ruffling her hair when he spoke. “Everything okay?” Kat sighed and nestled herself farther into his embrace. “Everything is perfect.” Tipping her head up to catch his gaze, she said, “Thank you…Aiden.”

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She watched him swallow thickly, then offer a hint of a grin. “It was entirely my pleasure, kitten. Now get some shut-eye.” Just as she tucked her head on his shoulder, Murphy climbed onto Irish’s chest and curled himself into a tiny ball where their bodies pressed together. She laughed when he grumbled, “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, fur ball.” And with that, Kat awarded that moment as the happiest she’d been her entire life.

Chapter Thirteen He was covered in sweat and smears of blood and not all of it belonged to him. His right eye had started to swell and the cut on his lip from the week before had been reopened. The invisible injuries, like the one over his left rib cage and the one on the inside of his right calf, would turn shades of purple later. And yet he barely felt any of it. Not yet. Not while the rush of adrenaline coursed through

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his veins and fueled his muscles. Not while he still had a job to do. The crowd’s deafening cheers echoed in the old arena, but like the pain, the sound was diluted, nothing more than a muffled din in the back of Aiden’s mind. A fighter couldn’t afford distractions. A fighter was trained to focus all his senses on his opponent while keeping his ears open just enough to hear instructions from his corner. Everything else was a blur, like a lens out of focus. When it was done right, every part of a fighter’s mind and body worked together to accomplish a single goal: win. The air horn blast sliced through the roars, signaling the end of the second round. The ref broke apart Aiden and the other

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fighter known as Bulldog and sent them to their corners in the black octagonal cage. Breathing heavily, Aiden dropped his ass onto the stool and accepted the bottle Xander offered him. He took out his mouth guard and squeezed some water into his mouth. He swished, turned his head to the side, and spit it onto the mat. The next squeeze he greedily swallowed. Xan had fought earlier. He had a gash over his left eye and a swollen jaw, but that was nothing compared to what the other guy looked like. Xan had passed to the next round and would be fighting in a week. Now Aiden had to do the same thing or else— Smack! Aiden’s head snapped to the side before he brought it back to center and glared at his best friend.

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“Do I have your attention now, mate? Because you looked like you’d danced off to La La Land, which is exactly where you’ll end up if you don’t bloody finish that fucker in the next five minutes!” Winning was necessary, which meant focusing was necessary. If Aiden let himself think about anything else—especially the consequences of losing—he was as good as beat. Xander was right. He’d needed the slap in the face. “You’re holding back,” Xan yelled to be heard above the crowd. “Stop pussyfooting around and lay him out!” “Fuck off,” he growled as one of Xan’s fight buddies smeared Vaseline on his cheeks, nose, and forehead. “What do you think I’m trying to do out there?”

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Xander got right in his face and nailed him with a serious glare. “I think you’re afraid to let yourself go and fight like you used to. But I’m telling you, if you keep the animal caged much longer, Aid, you’re going to lose. That guy is no joke.” No, he wasn’t. Bulldog was a few inches shorter than Aiden’s six-four, but he weighed in at 240, which made him a heavyweight. At 205, Aiden fell into the light heavyweight category, but the underground circuit wasn’t concerned with keeping strict weight classes. Aiden glanced across the cage at the other fighter. He was already standing, shaking his muscles out and cracking his neck to either side as he waited to be called out for the final round. Fuck, he was a beast. But he was slow and preferred the ground game. Aiden’s best

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bet was to keep him standing and hope to land a punch just right that would knock the guy’s lights out. The end of the break sounded. He stood and shoved his mouth guard back in. Before Xander picked up the stool and left the octagon, he spoke in Aiden’s ear. “Either you finish him or Kat’s as good as sold to the highest bidder.” So much for not thinking about the consequences. Both men met in the middle, fists in front of their faces as they slowly circled, waiting for the right moment to strike. Xander was right. Aiden had been holding back. Not much, but just enough. Enough to keep himself under control. Then, after the whole situation was over and the smoke

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cleared, he could rein back in this dangerous side of him like he’d done before. But he couldn’t take the risk that that might not get the job done. He needed to let go and drop that last wall. So, taking a deep breath, he did. Like a punch of nitrous oxide in a highperformance racecar, Aiden’s darker half flooded his veins. What he hadn’t let out in more than five years stretched and yawned inside him…then shook off the sleep and bared its teeth. It was done. The beast was unleashed. He stared down his opponent and let him see it in his eyes. Then he attacked. Man to man, they clashed in the middle of the cage like modern-day gladiators. But instead of a shield and sword, their fists were

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all they used to both punish and protect. Though Aiden’s appearance hadn’t changed, his technique had. His strikes were harder, quicker. Bulldog swung and connected a meaty fist with Aiden’s ribs. Pain like shards of glass sliced through his torso. He smiled through the pangs, the kind that if his mouth guard wasn’t in would be all teeth, no mirth. The kind that warned of something unpleasant to come. Aiden answered with a jab-hook combo that rattled Bulldog’s head, but not for more than a couple of seconds. They engaged each other again and again. The man moved like a boxer and hit like a train, but his bulk made him slow. For every punch he threw, Aiden threw combinations of two or three. Still,

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they were pretty evenly matched standing up, and Aiden wasn’t in this fight for good times. So when he saw an opportunity, Aiden shot in at the man’s hips and took him to the ground. Hopefully Bulldog’s jujitsu wasn’t up to par with Aiden’s. He swung his body off to the side, yanked Bulldog’s right arm between his thighs, and slammed the rest of his legs across the prone man’s chest to pin him in place. Pulling Bulldog’s wrist down, Aiden threatened to break the fighter’s arm, bending it back in the wrong damn direction. It only took a few seconds before Bulldog used his other hand to tap the mat three times, signaling to the ref that he conceded the match. Aiden let go, they both stood up, and the ref raised Aiden’s hand as the winner

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while the announcer said his piece. “And the winner, finishing the fight at one minute, thirty-seven seconds in the third round by submission is…Ooooooo’BRIEN!” With sweat pouring down his body and his breaths still coming hard and fast, Aiden aimlessly scanned the mostly booing crowd. Underground tournaments were hotbeds for big-time gamblers, and apparently Bulldog had been favored to win. Looks like he wasn’t about to make any new friends tonight. Fine by him. He had no intentions of being buddies with anyone. He just wanted to win his fights, collect the money, pay off Sicoli, and keep Kat safe with him. He shook his head. Those head shots must have been worse than he thought. He couldn’t keep Kat with him. He was making

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her safe by paying off her bogus debt, then he was sending her on her way with a decent chunk of cash to start a new life somewhere else. That was the plan. Finally, everything was over. The ref dropped his arm and the crowd was getting pumped up for the next fight. Aiden stepped out of the cage and met Xander, who gave him his duffel bag. “Nice finish, mate. Let’s do it a little sooner next time, eh?” “Whatever you say, coach.” Hoisting the duffel strap over his shoulder, he looked up and saw the last two guys he wanted to see: Sully and Vinnie. They stared right at him as they moved through the ebb and flow of the crowd toward him. “Xan, we gotta go. Out the back, come on.”

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Xander glanced in the direction of where Aiden had been looking and needed no further explanation to follow him in the opposite direction. They made their way through the sea of people to the back where the fighters had rooms to get ready in. A quick jog to the end of the hall had them through the back door and out to the car. As Xander steered the Nova out of the parking lot onto the main road, he glanced over at Aiden. “Wanna tell me who the fuckers were we just ran from?” He plunged a hand through his hair and stared out the open window. “Those are the guys collecting for Sicoli. I’m planning on paying them off with the money I get from winning the tournament.” “You mean if you win the tournament.”

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Aiden glared at his friend. “Okay, fine, when you win it. It’s a damn good thing I like the girl. I wouldn’t throw away my chances at starting up my career again for just anyone.” “What are you talking about?” Aiden asked. “How is fighting in the underground tournaments getting you your career back?” “You’ve heard of Victor McManus, right?” “Yeah. He’s one of the most sought-after managers in the MMA circuit. What about him?” “He’s looking for fresh talent. Raw talent. And it just so happens he’s scouting at the Four by Four. He was there tonight. No doubt you made an impression on him.” “I’m not looking to make an impression on anyone, Xan. I’m only doing this to get Kat out of danger.”

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His friend cut him a sidelong glance. “How much of this is to pay off a personal debt to Jax and how much is because you’re falling for the girl?” Aiden disguised a wince by dragging a hand down his face. That question hit a little too close for comfort, and he didn’t want to give the answer any serious thought. He and Xan had already had a frank discussion about keeping his hands off Kat now that Aiden had pissed all over his own boundaries with her. He’d been relieved to hear Xan had never set his sights on her in the first place. “I owe Jax. And it’s not as if I had anything pressing going on in my life. I’ll see this through. Make sure Kat is in the clear and safely back with her sister. Then I’ll go back to Boston where I belong.”

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Though he said the words, he didn’t necessarily feel like he belonged in Boston anymore. His desire to go back to what he knew had lessened more and more as the weeks he’d spent around Kat went by. And after the way the past week had gone, he was having a hard time picturing himself back in his old neighborhood at all anymore. Hearing her call his name—his real name—as she came beneath him had almost done him in. Three words that never should’ve entered his mind had damn near tumbled from his lips in the aftermath of that moment. Thank Christ he’d had enough presence of mind to bite his tongue before he’d made a fool of himself. But a close brush with humiliation hadn’t dampened his libido in the slightest. He’d

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spent the rest of the night alternating between talking with her about the most mundane things and making love to her in new ways. They’d learned little things about each other like favorite colors and foods and movies. Then they’d learned about each other in much more carnal ways. Like what made them moan and gasp and go absolutely fucking mindless. As they’d lain together in the early morning hours, exhausted and spent, she’d kissed his neck before whispering, “Thank you for my night. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.” She’d been saying good-bye. His throat had tightened with a knot of emotions, but he forced himself to focus on the fact that he couldn’t let her leave before he paid off the debt.

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“What if,” he began, his voice not more than a rasp in the dawn, “we could have more than one night? Would you stay?” She angled her head on his shoulder to look up at him, but he continued staring at the ceiling. “Aiden—” Damn, he loved the way she said his name. “—look at me,” she said, palming the side of his face with one slender hand. He did. “You’re the first man to ever treat me as something other than a means to an end. Whether what I feel for you is borne of gratitude or something more, it would be really easy for me to agree so I could have that for a little longer.” She raised her head from his shoulder, and her eyes pinned him with an honesty that shook him to his core. “But I’m

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done being used by men, even if they’re more hero than villain. So if you’re looking for a fuck buddy, I’m not your girl.” Either you break her heart, or they’ll sell her and break her will to live. “I didn’t plan on getting my emotions involved,” he said. “But now that they are, I can’t ignore them any more than you can.” Truth. “I think we should see where this goes.” “I’m afraid of letting myself have a taste of something good if it isn’t going to last. I think I’d rather not know how green the grass is.” “I’m not going anywhere.” Lie. He intended on leaving as soon as she was safe, even though it would hurt her. It made him sick to think how much she’d despise him, but it

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would be better that way. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll stay.” Relief washed through him, but chasing its heels was an oily dread for what he knew would happen in just a few short weeks. He’d done his best to shove both from his mind as he kissed her long and slow until they’d depleted the very last vestiges of their energy before sinking into a deep sleep. The rest of the week had passed with one surreal event after another. They’d taken Murphy to the vet and then the local pet store to stock up on any and everything a kitten could need or want in its nine lives. Kat often watched him train in the mornings, and then they’d spend their afternoons playing with the fur ball at her place before going into work together. And since she didn’t like

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the idea of leaving Murphy alone all night, she stayed at the apartment and he never had trouble finagling an invitation to stay over. In fact, tonight was the first time they’d really been apart since everything started the week before. Usually he was scheduled to work Saturday nights with her, but he’d gotten someone else to cover his shift, then told Kat he gave up his hours because the other guy needed some extra cash. At last Xander and Aiden pulled into their driveway. The crunching of gravel under the Nova’s tires alerted Ally, who opened her giant maw and hissed in protest from in front of the porch steps when the headlights swung over her. “Cranky croc,” Xander muttered.

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“She’s an alligator, not a crocodile.” “Either way, she’s a moody female,” he countered. “Speaking of moody females…” Aiden looked up to see Kat’s car parked in front of the house. He wouldn’t classify her as a moody female, but once she saw him and realized he’d been up to more than just giving a coworker some extra hours, that might change.

Chapter Fourteen The sounds of car doors banging followed by the low rumblings of male voices penetrated the light sleep Kat had managed to slip into. Wanting to see Irish after her long shift at Lou’s, she’d driven over to his place. She’d been disappointed to find him and Xander gone, but she wasn’t his mother. He didn’t need to check in with her or get her permission. As much as the not-knowing stung,

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she’d turned around with every intention of going home to Murphy…until she saw that Ally had moved to the bottom of the steps. Then she hastily decided to hang out and wait for the guys to return. Yawning, she uncurled herself from the corner of the couch and stretched her aching limbs. Kat folded herself back in, wrapping her arms around her legs, when a thought flitted through her mind. Would Irish be upset she’d come over unannounced? Maybe he’d really taken the night off because he needed space from her. Or maybe he’d simply grown tired of her already and wanted to move on but didn’t know how to tell her. Shit! What had she been thinking coming over uninvited? Now she felt ten kinds of

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dumb. She heard Xander ordering the alligator to “quit her bitching,” followed by heavy footsteps ascending the creaking wooden stairs. Kat launched off the couch, suddenly feeling like she had no right to be there, much less lounging on the couch. Clasping her hands in front of her, she prepared to explain her presence, apologize, and make a hasty retreat. But the moment the guys walked through the door, her plan was all but forgotten. Her fingers flew up to her mouth on a gasp. “Holy shit, what happened to you two?” Xander’s eye was cut and his face looked like he’d come from the dentist and forgot to take the cotton rolls out of his cheek. Irish

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wasn’t much better, with a black right eye under a one-inch gash and swollen bottom lip where his healing cut had split open again. Xander cut a presumably innocent glance at his friend. The kind that asked whether he was supposed to make up a story or beat feet. Some women may have missed the “guilty” signals, but she’d become adept at picking up on people’s tells. A perpetual distrust of her fellow man and years of working in bars and diners attributed to that particular talent. Irish gave a slight shake of his head and dropped a large gym bag at his feet. Xan clapped his hands together. “You know what I just remembered? I was supposed to go over to Sandy’s tonight, so I’ll just take a quick shower—”

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A throat clearing interrupted him. “Or I could take one over at her place.” Irish inclined his head. “That’d be good.” “Right, then,” Xander said on his way to the door. “Lovely to see you again, Kat.” “Night, Xander.” They stood there, not moving or speaking until they could no longer hear the roar of the Nova. Finally, he broke the silence. “I need to shower.” “I can see that. Basic first aid might not be a bad idea, either. Want to tell me what happened?” “I entered that underground tournament Xander’s in. I had a fight tonight. Xan, too.” She canted her head. “I thought you never wanted to fight again.” He shrugged one shoulder and she found

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herself resenting the T-shirt for hiding the undulating muscles underneath. “Been reconsidering. There’s this big-time manager, Victor McManus. He’s scouting out there for new talent. Figured I’d give it a shot.” Kat couldn’t stop the ear-to-ear grin from spreading on her face. “What?” he asked. “I think it’s great. I’m so happy for you.” Unable to hold back any longer, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed. He sucked in a sharp breath and cursed as he grabbed her arms to hold her back. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing serious. Just a few bruises.” “Shit, I’m so sorry.” She stared at his torso as though she’d be able to see the damage. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

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“Yeah, I’m fine, but it’d be great if you hold off on giving me any bear hugs for a couple weeks,” he said with a wry half grin. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t give me any of your kitten hugs.” Kat raised an eyebrow. “What are my kitten hugs?” “You know the ones.” He took hold of her hands and brought them up behind his neck, even though the strain on his face told her it caused him pain. “Your arms go up like that, mine go around your waist, and you lean into me all soft and sweet…” He pulled her body flush with his. “Like this.” “Ah, yes, now I remember,” she quipped, gazing up at him. “These are the kind conducive to kissing, am I right?” “Yeah, they are.”

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He bent his head and she noticed a smear of dark red, caked-on blood below his ear. She stopped him with a palm held between their faces. Gingerly touching the area, she winced at the thought of what might be under there. “Does that one hurt?” He reached up, prodded, then scraped off the mark. “Blood’s not mine.” Kat gaped at his nonchalance. “Gross!” Stepping out of his arms, she said, “Your blood and sweat is one thing, but I’m not making out with you while you’re wearing someone else’s DNA.” Chuckling at her retreat, he advanced. “Fair enough. I’m sure you’d appreciate a relaxing hot shower after your long shift. Why don’t we take one together? Conserve water and all that.”

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Sex in the shower? Surely that took some sort of finesse. Some experience. Both of which she didn’t possess. Their relationship was new enough that she still cared whether she made an extreme fool of herself. Beyond that, with her luck she’d cause them to slip and fall and he’d suffer an injury that forced him to withdraw from the tournament, ruining his chances for resurrecting his career. No way could she have that on her conscience. More steps back for her. More steps forward for him. “You’re right. A relaxing shower does sound great.” Thud. The doorframe of the bathroom wedged between her shoulder blades. He’d caught her between a rock and a… Kat glanced down to the bulge behind his

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shorts. Very, very hard place. Swallowing thickly, she met his gaze. “But the look in your eyes says you have other things on your mind than a quick lather, rinse, and repeat.” “So what if I promise that we’ll only do shower stuff, then will you?” Kat studied him, searching for the telltale smirk that meant he was making promises he didn’t intend to keep in order to get his way. But she didn’t see it. The heat left his eyes and was replaced with something else. Something more tender. “Kat, I missed you today. I don’t wanna waste any more time being away from you.” He braced one hand on the wall above her head and leaned in close. The fingers of his free hand stroked her cheek lightly. “Lemme take care of you.”

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If she’d thought before that she had the strength to deny this man anything, she’d been a fool. In truth, she hadn’t been able to deny him from the very beginning. Not when he insisted on looking after her in the bar. Not when he demanded he take her to the hospital for her hand. Not even when he insanely wanted to handle her situation with Sicoli’s men. And she hadn’t a prayer when he asked her to stay and be with him. A part of her said she should be concerned that her will seemed to evaporate around him. She’d spent her entire life bending to the will of others and her conviction to never allow that again was only months old. But another part of her knew Irish was different. He wasn’t like the others. Nothing he wanted

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her to do benefited him. It was always about her. She smiled up at him from under her lashes. “Okay.” He thanked her with a gentle kiss, then took her hand and led her into the bathroom. He started the shower, letting the water warm up while they undressed. It was a relief to peel off the stench of the bar. Since she hadn’t planned the trip, she’d have to borrow some of Irish’s clothes again. The thought of wearing his scent on her skin made her nipples pebble. Then she took in the sight of his naked form—all hard and sinewy with his cock rigid and jutting out from his body—and warmth pooled between her legs. Holding the curtain back, he offered her his hand. Her gaze moved from his eyes, to

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his erection, then back up. An amused, lopsided grin appeared on his face. “Getting hard when I’m around you is inevitable, but that doesn’t mean I have to do anything with it.” When she placed her hand in his, he drew her to him and whispered in her ear, “Yet.” A fluttering stirred in her belly at his wicked promise. To hide her reaction, she slapped his chest playfully and stepped into the tub. He chuckled and followed her in, drawing the plastic lining across the rod. Eager to feel the warm water, Kat moved under the spray. Her lids slid closed on a sigh as she lifted her face to the ceiling. Using her hands, she pushed her hair back from her face. “Jesus.” Her eyes snapped open to find him

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devouring her with his eyes, one hand gripping the curtain rod and the other pressed against the white fiberglass wall. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” She didn’t. She knew she was average, maybe a little better on a good hair and makeup day, but she was no beauty. Only, when Irish complimented her, it never sounded fake or said for her benefit. It was genuine. Real. Just the way he looked at her made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. And she was never sure what to do with that. She sensed the color heating her cheeks and lowered her eyes. Shit! That was a mistake. Seeing his thick erection had only served to make her flush even more. There

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was no way they were getting through this shower without screwing each other’s brains out. There was probably an old proverb that said lovers couldn’t shower together without having sex. Like the one that said men and women can’t be just friends. Stepping back, she gestured for him to take his turn under the water. He rinsed off the grime from his night, being careful to avoid direct contact with the cut over his eye. She picked up the berry-scented shampoo (Xander kept the bathroom stocked with “girl crap” for his frequent house guests) and poured some into her palm. “So,” she said, “did you win?” “Yep.” He scraped the shampoo from her hand into his, then grabbed the bottle from her

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and squeezed out more before putting it back. Pointing his index finger up, he twirled it in a circle, silently instructing her to face the other direction. With the water now sluicing down her front, Irish gathered the length of her hair and piled it atop her head as he worked the soap into a lather. The steam floated around her, caressing her skin where the water didn’t, carrying with it the wafting scent of ripe summer berries. His fingertips massaged her scalp in slow circles, drawing out the tension in her body little by little. Keep talking. If you’re making small talk you won’t want to jump his bones every five seconds. Probably…maybe. “So,” she forced herself to say, “isn’t this where you give me a play-by-play of the fight?”

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“Wasn’t planning on it.” When he spoke again, she heard the smile in his voice. “Why, do you want me to give you a play-by-play?” She thought about that for a second as he turned her around and rinsed the soap from her hair. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in hearing about something that was—whether he copped to it or not—a huge part of who he was. But she couldn’t even imagine Irish bragging like she’d seen so many guys do when trying to impress a girl or their friends. He’d probably say something like, “I hit him, he hit me, then I hit him harder and I won.” Kat almost giggled at her own musings but stopped herself in time. She lost the thread of conversation as he then worked a healthy amount of creamy conditioner into her

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snarls. Finally she said, “How about telling me how you won. It can be by knockout or submission, right?” She was glad she’d paid attention when Xander talked up his fights the other morning when they made breakfast together. Xan was definitely the play-by-play type, but somehow he managed to make his arrogance come off as endearing. A total mystery, considering she found that sort of thing a turnoff. “Or by the judges’ decision if neither fighter finishes it, but yeah. It was close, but I ended up submitting him with an arm bar.” “Congratulations.” He muttered a thanks, then turned her around so he could rinse her hair one last time. “I’d like to come to your next fight.”

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He paused and glanced down at her before refocusing on his task. “I’m not really on my A game yet, you know? Maybe someday.” Kat got it. He wanted to wait until he had his confidence back before she watched him. If she had anything she was good at, she’d probably want the same thing. As it was, though, she’d never had time to explore any interests she did have. That was something she should add to her to-do list. Discover hobbies or possible talents. “God, I love your hair,” he said, running his fingers through the now-silky mass. “This is nothing. You should see my sist—” Kat cut herself off. She’d let her guard down so much around Irish she forgot to keep up the ruse of having no family. Maybe he didn’t catch it.

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“You never told me you had a sister.” She sighed. Of course he caught it. Irish actually listened when a woman talked. Men like him were extremely rare. Actually, in her experience, they were more like unicorns: talked about as though they might exist, but really just a creature of girlish fairy tales. It didn’t matter anymore, she supposed. Irish wasn’t a threat to Nessie. She’d always kept her sister a secret so no one could ever use that knowledge against her. On the seedy side of the tracks in life, people didn’t hesitate to threaten your loved ones to get you to do what they wanted. She’d even convinced Lenny years ago that she’d received word Vanessa died in a car accident. If there was one thing Kat had been adamant about since she was fourteen, it was

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that Vanessa’s life would never be tainted by hers. She’d protected Kat when they were growing up. The least she could do was try and protect her older sister now that they were adults. “I have an older sister, Vanessa. But we don’t keep in contact.” Reaching past her, he grabbed his all-inone shower gel and filled one of his hands with the electric-blue soap. As he made quick work of scrubbing some of it through his midnight hair and the rest over his body in quick, efficient movements, he asked, “Why not? Don’t you get along?” “No, that’s not it. Nessie and I are very close.” Kat crossed her arms over her chest and moved so he could rinse himself from head to toe. “Especially when we were

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growing up. She always protected me, always took care of me.” The clean scent of some scientist’s idea of what the ocean breeze smelled like curled around her. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and drew it deep into her lungs. His sheets and pillowcase smelled like that and she was sure it calmed her better than any expensive aromatherapy ever could. She came back to herself when Irish maneuvered her to stand in front of him, her back to his chest. “So what happened to make you drift apart?” Irish moved the heavy mass of her hair over the front of her left shoulder. Gathering it in her hands, she braided it to keep it out of the way as he began soaping her back.

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“She graduated and went to college in Nevada. She tried calling me, but I didn’t take her calls very often.” His hands slid up and down her back, kneading her sore muscles and lulling her into an almost dreamlike state. She let her head drop forward and closed her eyes. “Why was that?” he asked, his voice a low rasp by her right ear. “Before she left, our asshole of a stepfather went to jail, so Vanessa thought I’d be okay for the next three years. But then Mom got a new boyfriend who made the stepdad look like Santa Claus.” Kat felt his grip tense briefly as he stroked down the length of her arms, but she forgot his reaction when his hands moved to lather her stomach in lazy circles. Leaning her head back on his chest,

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she continued. “So I rarely spoke to her because I wanted her to focus on the new chance she’d gotten at having a decent life. She didn’t need to be stressed out about any of my shit back home.” “You were pretty selfless for being so young. Strong, too.” A stunted, humorless laugh echoed in the small room. “I wasn’t either of those things. But I owed it to Nessie to let her go. She’d had to act like my mother almost my whole life because ours constantly chose her addictions over us.” Flashes of memories from deep in her past crept out from the darkness to close in on her. Her throat was thick with old fear and forgotten ghosts. She took some deep breaths through her nose and forced herself

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to concentrate on Irish’s strong hands now spreading the shower gel over her breasts and up her neck. Placing a soft kiss at her temple, he traced the scar in the center of her chest and asked, “Will you tell me how you got this?” Kat opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She shook her head back and forth a few times on his pec. “I know you have some idea of my shitty life, Irish, but trust me, you don’t want to know the fucked-up details.” His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he turned them to the side so the shower spray hit them both. With him leaning back against the wall, she let her weight sink into him. Between the water running down her front and his body behind her, she felt wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, and yet

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her insides were starting to convulse as though she stood naked in a snowstorm. “I want to know everything about you, Katherine Terese MacGregor. Even the bad stuff.” When she started to shake her head again, he stopped her by tucking his face down by hers. “Hey,” he said gruffly. “I will fight anything—past, present, or future—that tries to hurt you. But I can’t fight your demons unless you show them to me.” “There’s no point. You can’t fight things from the past.” “Sure we can. Look at how we fought your problem of slipping away when we make love. We found a way around it and beat it. So maybe there’re other things we can do to help heal the parts you feel are kind of broken, you know?”

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His point was valid. Sort of. He’d been right about keeping her eyes open during sex. As long as she could see that it was him, her brain didn’t slip into survival mode without her consent. She’d even gotten to the point where she could close her eyes for a few seconds at a time and still be okay. That probably was due to the fact that Irish could win awards for Best Sweet Talker Ever. It wasn’t constant during sex, but she suspected he did it as a way to keep her in the moment with him. Whatever the reason, she loved it and hoped he never stopped. So, yes, he had fixed one problem she’d had as a result of her past. But even still, she didn’t see how telling him the sordid details of what happened to her for the two years between Nessie moving out and leaving with

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Lenny would help her. Her life was what it was. She’d learned to bury it and do her best to never let it see the light of day. “Please, kitten,” he whispered. “Trust me enough to let me in.” Sighing, she rested her arms over his. If it meant that much to him, it was the least she could do. He’d already done so much for her without asking for anything in return and honestly, she cared for him in ways she couldn’t explain. She’d do anything for him. All he needed to do was ask. Even if it meant slicing open ancient wounds. “My mom was an alcoholic and a druggie for as long as I can remember. Nessie said there was a time when we were really young that she was amazing, but I never knew that mother. Nessie was the one who made sure I

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had food, clean clothes, got to school, everything. And when my mom had men over, my sister kept me away from the house or distracted me as best she could.” “Like watching The Odd Couple?” Kat smiled wanly. “Yeah, like that.” “What about your stepdad? What was his deal?” The smile fell from her face. “He was super controlling and sometimes abusive. Most of the time he targeted my mom, but whenever he swung his attention our way, Nessie antagonized him so she would get the brunt, if not all, of what he dished out. He almost never laid a hand on me thanks to her.” “Sounds like you have an amazing sister,” he said with a slight squeeze of his arms. “Yeah, I do,” she said thickly. “That’s why

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I didn’t want her to know how bad things were after she left. I didn’t want her screwing up her new life to come back and try to save me.” A lump formed in her throat and hot tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “It wasn’t worth it; after the first time, there was nothing left to save.”

… “Tell me.” Aiden kissed her cheek in encouragement then rested his forehead against her temple. At this rate they’d both be prunes by the time they got out of the shower, but she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave the steamy sanctuary, so neither was he. “My mom’s new boyfriend moved in after only a week of them knowing each other. He

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gave me the creeps the first time I laid eyes on him. He constantly looked at me like I was a fucking steak or something. After a while the looks were accompanied by touching. A bump here, a graze there. He always feigned innocence, and I was too chicken to call him out on it.” Goddamn it. He knew where this was heading. If Vanessa was anything like him—and he expected she was—she definitely would have come back from college to bury that fucker. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he tried to contain his anger. “You weren’t chicken, sweetheart. You were a kid up against a fullgrown man with no one to help protect you.” “Maybe,” she said hoarsely. “But maybe if I’d pitched a fit, or threatened to cut his balls

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off, it wouldn’t have gone any further than that.” Aiden took a deep breath and asked the question he needed answered and yet never wanted to know. “How far did it go?” Tears streamed down her cheeks, but her voice had become monotone. It was eerie, like an automated, unfeeling account of horrifying events. “He’d been drinking and I’m pretty sure he was high, too, although on what I didn’t know. My mom was already passed out and I’d gone into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. I heard him come into the room, but I ignored him, hoping he’d grab a beer or whatever and go away.” She shook her head slowly, shaking loose more tears that got lost in the water cascading down her body. “But he didn’t go away.”

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Kat started trembling in his arms. Reaching over, he shut off the water and grabbed one of the large bath towels from the rack. He wrapped it around her shoulders before fastening a second around his waist, then stepped out of the tub. With little effort, he picked her up and cradled her in his lap as he sat on the floor with his back against the wall. She drew her knees to her chest and pulled the towel around her so all that peeked out was her head and her toes. With acid churning in his gut and the thirst for vengeance tickling his throat, Aiden held her in his arms while the details of that horrifying night spilled from her quivering lips. She told him how her mom’s boyfriend had stepped between her and the kitchen

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island where she’d been slicing tomatoes. That he’d pulled her in hard and didn’t waste any time groping and fondling her through her nightshirt and pajama pants. She’d actually tried fighting him that first time, striking out to try and do as much damage as she could. But that’s when he grabbed the chef’s knife from the counter, effectively halting all her struggles. Aiden heard the self-contempt in her voice as she recounted how she’d obeyed his every order after that. How she laid on the dirty kitchen floor and let him cut the clothes from her. How she stayed as still as a mannequin for the rest of the time, even when he forced himself inside her virgin body and the pain was almost too much to bear. “He held the knife on me the whole time.

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He didn’t even stop when he accidentally cut me. The blood ran up over my neck and shoulders and dripped into my hair. I remember thinking it smelled like wet pennies.” Aiden watched in agony as more tears streamed from her blue-green eyes, falling silently from the edge of her jaw to the towel below. “I couldn’t get a full breath because of his weight crushing me. The little air I did get was thick with his sweat, stale cigarettes, Jim Beam, and blood. I thought for sure I’d suffocate. Sometimes I wish I would have.” “Jesus Christ, baby, no. Look at me,” he urged with his fingers under her chin. He nearly broke down from the overwhelming despair staring up at him through her watery gaze. “Don’t you ever wish that again, you hear me? Not ever.”

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Her chin trembled as the emotions started bubbling to the surface finally. “Y-you have no idea what it w-was like,” she rasped. “After that he always took me at night, in my bed. I never knew when. Sometimes it was several times a week. There were weeks I never saw him. But every time it happened, I turned my head and focused on the moon through my window. Seeing it brought a certain calm over me. “I learned everything I could about it so that even when I couldn’t see it, I’d close my eyes and think about where it was and why, and it helped me slip away from my ugly reality. Ever since then the moon has held a very spiritual meaning for me. Almost like she was my guardian, helping me through the darkness to find her light.”

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“Did you tell anyone? Vanessa?” “My first thought was to tell Nessie. I knew she’d make him sorry for ever laying a hand on me. He must have known that because he made sure to tell me that if Vanessa found out, she’d drop out of college and end up in the same dead-end life as our mother.” “Bullshit,” he spit with contempt. “He was trying to scare you so you wouldn’t say anything.” “I know that now, but at fourteen the last thing I wanted to do was ruin my sister’s life.” “How long did it go on?” “Oh, he got bored with me after a year.” “A year?” “Yeah,” she said flatly. “I think he became impotent, but I never knew for sure. But then

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he decided just because he wasn’t enjoying me didn’t mean others couldn’t. So for a price, he allowed his friends to visit me instead.” Holy fuck. Horror washed over him, twisting his gut in knots for the young girl in his arms who’d been abused so viciously. How she could bear any man’s touch was a miracle. Aiden pulled her in tighter, though whether it was more for her comfort or his he couldn’t say. “Christ, baby, I’m so sorry.” His voice was barely a rasp due to the golf ball of grief now stuck in his throat. “There’s no reason for you to be sorry; you didn’t do it.” Her behavior since they’d gotten out of the shower had grown more detached. Like she was tucking herself away and leaving a

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robotic shell behind to continue the conversation. He didn’t like it. As much as he hated seeing her cry or get upset, he’d welcome that as opposed to this disturbing…nothing. “Besides,” she added, “it’s over, so no big deal.” “Kat, none of that has anything to do with who you are.” “Yes, it does.” She sprang up from his lap, adjusting the towel under her arms and glaring at him as though he’d just insulted her. “I didn’t fight them! I let them have sex with me. Like a goddamn whore!” Aiden grabbed the towel rack over his head and pulled himself to a standing position. Her hysteria was escalating as she revealed more of the self-deprecation she must have lived with most of her life. To think

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she’d been so violently mistreated made him absolutely murderous. He tried to go to her, to offer her what little comfort he could, but Kat slapped his hands away. “Don’t you get it?” she cried. “Vanessa never would have allowed anything like that to happen to her. She would have slept with a knife, a gun, done something! If I’d been more like Nessie, none of that would’ve ever happened. But I was too weak and scared. I deserved what I got.” “Fuck that,” he growled, grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a quick shake. She’d gone too far. Aiden would sooner chew off his arms than listen to that bullshit. “You never deserved any of it. Not one second of what they did to you. You were just a kid, for chrissakes! I don’t care if you were walking

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around that house naked and shaking your ass. He had no right to touch you. None of them did. You understand me?” Some of the tension leaked from her muscles as she nodded ever so slightly. She sniffed hard and choked back a sob with little success. She hugged herself around her middle and peered up at him with an almost dazed look. Her voice was flat with a sad acceptance. “He took everything from me, Irish. My innocence, my self-respect. All my firsts. I can never get any of those things back. They’re gone forever.” Aiden cupped her face and willed her to believe him. “I know it’s hard not to live in the past. I struggle with that every fucking day. But you’re free now. Free from everyone who’s ever hurt you or held you back. You’re

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so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. I don’t know anybody who could’ve walked in your shoes and come out the other side half as amazing as you have.” A glimmer of hope passed over her features. “You mean that?” she whispered. He made an X over the left side of his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” She gave him a wan smile, but he wasn’t about to get choosy. He’d take what he could get. Using the heel of one hand, she wiped the wetness from her eyes, dragging any remaining mascara down her pink cheeks. “Come on, kitten,” he said, scooping her up in his arms. “Let’s get you to bed.” Like a child, she curled into him, already half asleep from the exhaustion of reliving her nightmares. He carried her into his room

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and laid her in the center of the mattress. After removing her damp towel and drawing the sheet over her small frame, Aiden sat next to her and lightly brushed the hair away from her face that had freed itself from her braid. Her lashes stood out in wet spikes and her lips were red and swollen from crying. If he had any artistic talent whatsoever, he’d paint her tragic beauty, hoping to purge the image from his mind. But as it was, Aiden knew he’d never be able to forget the way she’d looked as she broke down and bared her soul-deep pain to him in the bathroom of a rented cabin in the swamplands of Louisiana. When he was sure she slept, he stretched out next to her and continued to stroke her hairline as the waning moon traveled across

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the sky. To the marrow of his bones, he resented that he couldn’t take away her pain or go back in time and prevent that bastard from ever touching her. He was a hell of a lot better at tearing people apart than he was at putting them back together. God help whoever tried to hurt her now, because there was no doubt in Aiden’s mind…he’d kill them without even blinking.

Chapter Fifteen Kat sat on the trunk of her car and watched Irish roar up the road on his Suzuki. She loved how he looked on it, all stretched out, his body in total sync with the machine as he leaned into the turn that brought him into the parking lot at Lou’s. He parked next to her and swung his leg over in a graceful arc that belied his size. Pushing his sunglasses onto his head, he strode toward her with that

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sexy half grin hitching up one corner of his mouth. Damn, the man still gave her butterflies just by looking at her. There was rarely a moment in the day or night when she wasn’t thinking of him. She wasn’t an expert in the area of romance and love, but just by going on basic knowledge, she’d guess she was falling hard and fast for a certain Southie fighter. “Hey, there, beautiful,” he said as he stepped between her legs. “Fancy meeting you here.” Kat beamed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I know. It’s been forever since I’ve seen you.” “Oh, yeah,” he played along. “It’s gotta be, what, like an hour or something by now.

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Which is pretty close to forever by my standards when it comes to you.” She laughed and eagerly accepted his kiss. He wasn’t kidding. It’d been at most an hour and a half since they’d seen each other. That’s how it had been practically all week. The only time they were really apart was when one of them needed to return to their own place for a change of clothes. They even transported Murphy back and forth, depending on where they were spending the night. Being with Irish was as easy as breathing for Kat. He wasn’t the most romantic guy in the world, or even the most affectionate. But he understood her on levels she wasn’t even sure she knew herself. He was so in tune with her, as though he sensed exactly what she needed and when.

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As for him, he was still mostly a mystery to Kat. She knew only a few things about his background and when she asked questions, he changed the subject or skillfully distracted her with several orgasms until she couldn’t think straight enough for a decent inquisition. As much as she longed to know more about him, she found it hard to complain about his manipulative tactics when they felt so good. “Ready to go to work?” he asked after finally releasing her lips. She raised a dubious eyebrow at him. “That depends. How many tips are you going to cost me tonight?” “Depends on how many assholes try to play grab-ass with you.” She huffed out a breath and planted her

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fists on her hips. “Okay, tell you what,” he said, pulling her in until their chests rubbed together, the friction causing her nipples to pebble beneath the thin cotton of her shirt. “You keep track of how many dickwads short your tips because of me…” Leaning in, he sucked her earlobe into his mouth before releasing it with a quiet pop. “And that’s how many times I’ll make you come tonight.” Suddenly, losing tips didn’t sound like such a horrible thing. With a slight squeak in her voice, she agreed to his compromise, then sealed the deal with a scorching kiss to rival the bayou’s midday heat. After they came up for air, Irish helped her down from the car and grabbed the nylon pack strapped to his gas tank. He used

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it to hold his wallet, sunglasses, and an extra shirt in case some drunk spilled his drink—or his blood—on the one he wore. As they started toward the back entrance to the bar, two guys stepped around the corner. “Hey, there he is. O’Brien,” called the taller of the two, “how’s it going, buddy?” Irish stopped short, grabbing ahold of her arm to pull her level with him. He tensed and angled his body to put himself slightly in front of her. She wondered at his discomfort, since the men obviously knew him. She didn’t think anyone around here knew his real name except her and Xander. “Gentlemen,” he answered. “What are you doing here?” “Don’t be so rude,” the man admonished. “Why don’t you introduce us to your lady

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friend?” The muscle in his jaw jumped. “This here is Sydney,” he began. Kat was relieved when he used her alias. Despite supposedly being in the clear, she wasn’t quite ready to let all her walls down yet. “Syd, this is Sully and Vinnie. They’re—” “Independent agents keeping an eye out for new talent at the Four by Four,” Sully finished for him. That’s when it dawned on her who they were. “Oh, Vinnie!” She turned to Irish. “He’s the one you were telling me about, right? The one who could get your career going again?” Irish shook his head, but he didn’t get a word in edgewise. Whereas Vinnie was apparently the strong and silent type, Sully was

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obviously very used to directing conversations. “You must mean Victor, am I right? He’s the manager on all the fighters’ radars these days.” Victor! Victor…Victorrrrrrr…Macknis? Manis? Something like that. God, she was terrible with names. At least she’d remembered it started with a V. “Yes, that’s who I meant, I’m sorry.” Sully waved his hand dismissively. “No apology necessary. We actually work for Victor. Didn’t he call and tell you we’d be coming?” “No,” Irish said. “Must have slipped his mind.” “Well, no matter. We’re here and we’d like to discuss some business options with you.”

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Irish narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly but inclined his head in agreement. “Syd, take my pack and put it in my locker for me when you go in, will you?” Pulling him toward her, she spoke quietly enough so only Irish could hear. “But I want to hear what they have to say.” “I don’t want you to get in trouble with Lou and I need you to ask Johnny to cover for me for a few minutes.” She opened up her mouth to argue, but he didn’t let her get that far. “Please, sweetheart, go inside. I’ll give you the highlights later, okay?” Kat released a dejected sigh. “Yeah, okay.” Not only did she want to hear what the agents had to say, but she also thought it would be better if she stuck around to make sure Irish didn’t sell himself short to

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potential investors in his career. She didn’t think he’d totally bought in to the idea of getting back in the cage professionally, and she wouldn’t put it past him to subconsciously sabotage any second chances tossed his way. “You know,” she said to them, “he’s been training really hard since entering the tournament and he’s only going to get better. I know Victor wouldn’t regret investing in him. Anyone who watches him fight can see he’s a born champion.” Sully slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks and rocked back on his heels. “Oh, I know. I saw him last Saturday. He fought like his life depended on it.” Vinnie the Silent cracked a smile and eyed Irish. “Or like someone’s did, anyway.” Taking her hand, Irish led her to the back

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door to the bar and opened it for her. “Thanks for the endorsement.” “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He looked down at her, the corners of his mouth tipping up just a bit. “I know.” Kat placed a hand on his chest for balance and raised on her tiptoes. Pressing her lips to his, she hoped the kiss would infuse him with some of the confidence she had in his abilities. She pulled back, whispered a quick “good luck,” then walked into the back area of the bar. The haze of cigarette smoke hung like a veil in the hall, stirring above her as she passed through it. She heard Lou talking to the bartenders in the main room so she slipped into his office. After hanging her purse in a locker, she unzipped Irish’s pack

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to get out the comm-link he used to speak with the other coolers. Just as she was hanging his pack on the hook, his cell phone started to ring. Did he usually carry his phone with him while he worked? Kat chewed on the corner of her lip and waffled on whether to get it or not. The call went to voice mail, so she decided to take it to him so he could see if it was anyone he needed to speak with. As she pulled it out, she glanced at the lit screen. It read “Missed call from V. Maris.” “Maris?” Why did that name sound so familiar to her? She ran it through her head over and over, waiting for something to click. “V. Maris. Victor Maris?” Oh, shit, it’s the manager! Now she knew he needed his phone. Victor probably wanted to hear what

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Irish thought about whatever his guys were telling him. She palmed the cell, shut the locker, and turned to leave the office-slash-break-room when the phone rang again with the same Caller ID. Damn, she thought, it must be important for him to call again so soon. She’d answer it, explain that Irish was still outside speaking with Sully, and that she’d make sure he called as soon as they were done. “Hello, Irish O’Brien’s phone.” Silence. “Hello?” she tried again. “Mr. Maris?” “Kitty-Kat? Is that you?” Kat forgot to breathe and had to steady herself with a hand on the wall. She didn’t understand. Couldn’t make the pieces fit to make sense. Why would her sister be on the

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other end of the line? Why would her sister have Irish’s cell phone number? “Kat, if that’s you, please talk to me.” The woman’s voice was tinny through the miniscule speaker, but it was most definitely Nessie. Kat had listened to that voice in hundreds of voice messages and a handful of calls over the years. Unable to do anything else, she ended the call and stared at the phone. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there—a minute, an hour—but as soon as the shock wore off, Kat stalked back down the hall toward the back door. Betrayal slithered through her mind, making her skin crawl, as she realized that somehow she’d been deceived by the only man she’d ever trusted. Throwing the door open,

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she stepped into the oppressive heat of the night. Irish rounded the corner and came toward her. “Kat, what are you—” She held up his phone. “Why in the hell is my sister calling your phone? Fuck that. How is she calling your phone?” His face fell. “Let me explain.” “That’s a great fucking idea,” she said, her words sharp as knives. “Why don’t you start with how you know her and why she’s in your phone as V. Maris.” “I don’t know her.” The lie had her drawing her arm back to throw his phone at him, but he held his hands up. “I mean, not really! I’m friends with her fiancé, Jackson Maris.” She lowered her throwing arm and let that sink in. That’s why that name had sounded

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familiar to her. It was soon to be her sister’s last name. “You know Jackson?” “Yeah. Years ago he came out to my training camp in Boston for about six months and we hit it off. He helped me out one time, so I felt like I owed him a favor.” A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach and acid threatened the back of her throat. “And this favor has to do with me how exactly?” He shoved his fingers through his hair and shifted his weight as he looked around aimlessly before returning his focus to her. “Look, why don’t we ditch our shifts and go somewhere to talk about this.” “No, I want to know right now. What the hell is going on?” “Your sister was going crazy with worry

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over you after you took off in Tennessee.” Kat drew in a sharp inhale. The fact he knew about what happened in Tennessee meant he’d probably known about her situation with Sicoli before she ever said anything to him. “She hired a private investigator to find you, but she wanted to know more than just where you were, Kat. She needed to know how you were and if you needed help.” “I didn’t involve her on purpose!” Fear gripped Kat at the thought of what could happen to her sister if Sicoli wanted to use Vanessa as leverage. “I didn’t want her getting mixed up in all the shit I was in.” “I know and I get it, believe me. But if I thought for one second that Colleen or Mary Catherine were in trouble, I’d stop at nothing to do whatever I could to help whether they

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wanted it or not. Your sister’s no different.” “It doesn’t give her the right to send in some total stranger to spy on me. And repaying a favor certainly doesn’t give you the right to inject yourself into my life under false pretenses.” The hot sting of unbidden tears blurred her vision, but she straightened her spine and willed them not to fall. She refused to let him see how defeated she felt inside. “I knew you had secrets, but I hoped you’d open up to me in time, like I did with you. I never dreamed you kept things from me because they were about me.” She shook her head, still unable to believe the truth. Or unwilling. “I finally felt I could trust someone. I thought I could trust you, Aiden.” She scoffed and tacked on, “If that’s even your real name. Was any of it ever

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real?” “Kat, please just listen—” “No,” she forced out while taking a step backward. “It doesn’t matter. None of it does anymore.” Retracing her steps, she slipped into the bar again, intent on retrieving her purse and telling Lou she’d gotten sick in the bathroom so he’d send her home. Despite his own lack of hygiene, he was a stickler about his employees not spreading germs. If a flu epidemic went around, there’d be no one to serve beer and stale pretzels to the fine folk of Alabaster for a week. Her original plan of packing up and leaving Louisiana behind sprouted again in her head. She’d give it serious thought tomorrow. All she wanted to do tonight was go

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home, have herself a good cry, and find solace in the only male guaranteed to never betray her: Murphy the Cat.

… An all-out riot could have broken out at the bar that night and Aiden wouldn’t have noticed without the other cooler telling him about it over their comm-link. It was a typical Friday night. The people were packed in like sardines, the juke pumped out one deafening song after another, and the flow of alcohol was constant. But the only things Aiden saw and heard were the betrayal in Kat’s eyes and the hurt in her voice. They played on a constant loop in his head like a form of psychological Chinese torture. Then every once in a while, Sully’s

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opening line to him filtered through to add the icing on his shit cake. “It’s time we play by my rules, kid.” He trusted Sully and Vinnie even less now than he had before. Their impromptu visit to Lou’s earlier had almost caused him to snap. The only thing that kept him in check was Kat’s presence and not wanting to tip her off as to who they really were. Once she’d finally gone inside, though, he’d gotten in their faces and demanded to know what the fuck they were doing there. When he’d ducked them back at the fight last Saturday he had a feeling he’d be seeing them again, but he figured they’d wait to corner him at the tournament, not stroll up to him in the parking lot at Lou’s. Whatever they wanted, he knew it couldn’t be good.

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He’d been right. Turned out Vinnie was a bit of an MMA buff, which was why he thought he recognized Aiden in Kat’s apartment that first night. Once he saw his tattoos, namely the one of his last name, and the way he fought, Vinnie’s memory had been sufficiently jogged. Sully, brilliant bad guy that he was, came up with a genius plan to make a shit ton of money…by gambling on Aiden’s next opponent and having Aiden take the fall. The blackmailing bastards had been busy all week putting bugs in people’s ears about who Aiden was and his record back in his fighting days. If things panned out the way they hoped, the majority of the crowd tomorrow night would be betting on Aiden to win and anyone who still wasn’t sure would have

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time to change their minds when they saw Aiden lead in points in the first two rounds. The more people that bet on him to win, the bigger the odds. So anyone who bets on him to lose will rake in the dough. Though he wasn’t planning on this tournament re-launching his career, the idea of losing at all, much less on purpose, grated on him. But he hadn’t even given it a second thought. He agreed to go down in the third round like they wanted. Anything to prevent Sicoli from tossing Kat into a hell she already survived. She might hate him at this point, but that didn’t change his stance on helping her. Nothing would. As she’d driven away earlier, his instincts pushed for him to go after her. To make sure she got home okay at the very least. If he

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allowed himself the luxury of wishful thinking, he’d go fix things between them and tell her how he truly felt about her. But he couldn’t. It would only string her along even further when he knew he couldn’t trust himself not to hurt her worse in the future. I knew you had secrets… I thought I could trust you, Aiden. If that’s even your real name. Godammit! Aiden slammed his fist on the bar, the vibration like pins shooting up his arm. He couldn’t leave things like that. The thought of her believing that everything between them had been a lie gnawed at him. Just because he couldn’t offer her more didn’t mean that what they’d already shared hadn’t been real. He had to talk to her.

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“Anders,” he called through his comm to the other cooler, “something’s come up. I gotta go.” “The Barrow brothers just walked in looking drunk and ornery. What am I supposed to do if a riot breaks out?” Aiden was already pushing through the back door. He strode toward his bike while digging the keys out of his pocket. “Other than keeping the employees safe and out of the way, let them burn the place down if they want, Johnny. Lou’s got insurance.” Pulling the link from his ear, he threw his leg over and had the engine revving in seconds flat. Breaking several traffic laws on the way over, he made it to Kat’s apartment in record time. He parked on the street and made his way toward the alley that cut

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between the buildings. As he passed the voodoo shop, the mannequin in the window caught his eye and stopped him. It looked so much like Kat it could have been her doppelgänger. That’s when he saw the necklace displayed around its neck. The piece was earthy with elements that reminded him so much of Kat it seemed designed especially for her. When he stepped in to get a closer look, a neon sign that read OPEN sputtered on and the sound of the lock clicking preceded the jangling of bells as a woman in gypsy garb pushed the door open. “Well, don’t just stand there. You’re in a hurry, aren’t you?” She didn’t wait for a response to her cryptic greeting before retreating into the shop. Without knowing why, he followed her. Five minutes later he jogged up the poorly

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lit stairwell of Kat’s apartment with a small velvet pouch tucked into his pocket. Eager to see her, he rapped on her door, ignoring the pain from his bruised knuckles. He waited several seconds then tried pounding a few times with the side of his fist. She wasn’t answering, but he knew she was home. He’d seen her car in the back. “Kat, open up. We need to talk.” Nothing. Not even a “go away” or “fuck off.” He’d rather have her anger than silence. He knew how to deal with anger, how to combat it, defend against it. But this was a whole different animal. Did she hate him? Regret ever being with him? The very thought twisted his gut until he actually grabbed his stomach. Say something, asshole. Fix this.

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“Kat, I’m so fucking sorry.” He rested his forehead against the door and hoped like hell she could hear him. “I should have told you the truth last week. Or maybe even sooner, I don’t know. But I was afraid you wouldn’t let me get within fifty yards if you knew and something in me couldn’t let that happen. “I tried telling myself it was because I agreed to check on you. Because I was repaying a debt to my friend. But deep down I knew that was bullshit.” Aiden pushed out an exasperated breath as he lifted his face to the ceiling. “You became an addiction. I kept time based on how many hours I got to see you in a day, how many more until I could see you the next. I fantasized about laying you down on the bar, kissing every inch of your body, and burying myself inside you

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until you forgot every man but me.” Aiden pressed his hand to the door and imagined her doing the same on the other side, imagined he could feel the warmth of her palm spreading through his. “Then when I finally got to kiss you… God, I think I lost myself to you right then and there. I never expected to feel so much. A big part of me died a long time ago, but one kiss from you and it started coming back.” The silence pressed in on him. Though she still hadn’t said anything, he was certain she stood just on the other side of the door. He could feel her there as sure as he felt the wood that separated them. Curling his hand into a fist, he barely stopped himself from punching the barrier in frustration. Instead, he rolled away from it and let his head drop

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back against the wall. He suddenly felt heavy, weighted down by the lies and untruths and his inability to get through to the woman he cared about more than he knew what to do with. Sliding down, Aiden sat on the dirty cement and rested his arms on bent knees. “All I wanted to do was help you move on to a better life,” he said to the emptiness surrounding him. “I never planned on falling for you. But I did. Hard.” He heard a soft mewling and glanced over to see a gray paw stretched out in search of something. Cold air and a shaft of light leaked from where the towel must have been pulled away by the kitten’s curiosity. Lowering his arm, he stroked the furry leg with his index finger until the little paw grabbed hold

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of it as best he could. “Hey there, Murph. Guess I fucked up pretty bad, huh?” A string of meows and flexing of toes answered him. As though the animal had actually confirmed his fears, Aiden’s stomach dropped. “Yeah, that’s what I figured,” he said, trying to swallow past the lump forming in his throat. “I shoulda let Xander take point on the rescue mission and stayed out of it. I knew better than to let her get mixed up with me, but damn. Every time she looked at me I forgot all the reasons I was no good for her.” The kitten pawed at his hand. Maybe in consolation. Maybe in agreement. “Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. Those baby blues probably do a number on you, too.”

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Thinking of her crystalline eyes reminded him of the necklace he’d bought at the strange shop downstairs. He dug the pouch out of his pocket and slid it to the curious kitten’s paw. “Hey, Murph, do me a solid and give this to her, will ya? I don’t know if she’ll like it, but it reminded me of her.” As expected, Murphy pulled it to him under the door. “Now don’t go carrying that off and hiding it. It’s not for you, fur ball. Sorry, the voodoo lady was fresh outta catnip.” Aiden pushed himself off the wall and started to stand, but he stayed crouched when Murphy’s paw sought him out yet again. As fond as he was of the kitten, he wished it were Kat doing the reaching instead. No you don’t. It’s better she hate you

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and move on than be with you and get hurt. Unable to resist, he let the kitten grab onto his finger one last time. “You’re not making this very easy, little buddy,” he forced out, his voice so gravelly he didn’t even recognize it. “I wish to Christ I could be the kind of man she needs. But I’m not. I’m just a broken-down fighter who ends up hurting the people closest to me, and she deserves a hell of a lot better than that.” He finally let go of the tiny paw and stood up. His eyes burned and started to water until he blinked hard a few times to bring the dingy stairwell back into focus. “’Bye, Murph. I’m taking off after tomorrow’s fight. Take good care of her for me.” Frustrated meows accompanied the sounds of Murphy pawing at the door. Before

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he could say to hell with it and beg her to let him in, Aiden spun on his heel and jogged down the stairs. Just before he pushed through to the alley, the faint echo of a woman’s cry pierced the last remaining piece of his heart.

… Tears streamed down Kat’s face as she continued to sit on the floor, her brain too numb to tell her muscles to move. Listening to Irish through her door had been heartrending and yet she hadn’t been able to let him in. She wanted to forgive him and jump into his strong arms the moment he knocked. But that’s what had her so scared. If she overlooked that today, what would she be overlooking tomorrow?

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She sniffed hard and used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. Her throat had closed up a long time ago from crying, but watching her cat continue to try and get out to be with Irish was only making it hurt worse. “Murphy, knock it off,” she rasped. “He’s gone.” He’s gone. The words began to sink in, their meaning finally taking hold. Oh, God, he’s gone. When she’d left Lou’s earlier, she’d been hurt and pissed as hell. She hadn’t wanted to see or speak to him and fully prepared herself for an Irish Hiatus until she’d worked through the feelings of betrayal and broken trust. But now, faced with the thought of never seeing him again, of never again knowing his touch or the love they’d shared—

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Kat’s breath caught in her chest. Love… Was it really love or was she projecting her girlish dreams of someday finding such a thing onto the first guy who treated her well? Murphy finally abandoned his futile attempts at escape. He rubbed against her legs before laying down by her feet, his head resting on his little paws. That’s when Kat noticed the deep blue velvet pouch with CHASING THE MOON CREATIONS written in gold script. It took her a moment to realize it was the name of the eccentric store across the alley from the tattoo shop. She looked at her gray-striped kitten who’d become the best listener when she needed someone to talk to. “He bought me something. Lenny never gave me anything, not even when we first started dating.”

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Murphy sat up and stared at her expectantly, flipping the end of his tail. With shaking hands, she opened the pouch and withdrew a small card that read, Symbols of the Blue Topaz: loyalty, honesty, clarity of feelings, eternal romance, and love. It couldn’t have touched her more than if it had been from Hallmark. Whatever else was in the pouch, she knew Irish hadn’t chosen it blindly. She turned the pouch in her palm and marveled at the necklace. An antique brass chain held a matching brass crescent moon charm with a crystal bead that reminded her of a bright star. Behind that, a wire-wrapped crystal drop of blue topaz hung at the end of a few inches of chain. In fact, the chain looked to be just the right length to…

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Eager to find out, Kat stood and crossed to the bathroom. After clasping the necklace and centering it on her chest, she gazed at her reflection and got choked up all over again. The moon charm lay between her collarbones and the blue topaz just above her cleavage. Which meant the chain holding the stone hid—or at the very least distracted from—the scar she hated so much. The necklace was perfect. Irish was perfect. Perfect for her. Of course what they’d shared was love. Why wouldn’t she love him? From the moment he stepped foot in this Podunk town he’d done nothing but look after her, regardless of the original reason. When he learned a big-time mob boss had it out for her, he didn’t call it quits. He insisted on helping her and then somehow managed

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to do so when he very well could’ve gotten himself killed. But even more than all that, he’d taken care of her emotionally. It was like he’d plugged into her and sensed when she needed him to slow down or just hold her. When she needed to talk about things, even when she thought she couldn’t. She’d shared pieces of herself with him she’d never given anyone and couldn’t imagine ever giving anyone again. Looking back on the last couple of weeks, Kat realized the only times she felt truly happy and at peace were when she was with Irish. Whether they were making love or watching bad reality TV. All that mattered was that she was with him. She did love him. And hadn’t he admitted to pretty much the same?

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I never planned on falling for you, but I did. Hard. Yeah, he loved her, even if he hadn’t said the words. But instead of staying and working things out, he planned on leaving. Because why? He didn’t think he was good enough for her. Kat fisted her hands until her nails dug into her palms. Agitation had her stalking back and forth in her tiny apartment while Murphy watched like he was at a tennis match. “How dare he make the decision to leave based on the assumption he’s not good enough for me,” she spit out. “Don’t I get a fucking say in this?” Murphy let out a meow, which she took as support to her argument. “Exactly! He’s being bull-headed and such a…a…” She

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stopped and waved her hands in the air. “Man!” Exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the night, she plopped down onto her futon. Murphy ran over and jumped into her lap to rub his head against her face in his favorite form of affection. As she stroked his soft fur, she thought about what she should do. She was tired of men deciding her fate. And even though Irish was the first to do it with good intentions, it didn’t matter. The days of her succumbing to what others wanted from or for her were over. Kat picked up the kitten under his front legs and held him in front of her face. “Tomorrow night, Murphy, I’m going to fight for what I want. And what I want is Aiden ‘Irish’ O’Brien. Forever.”

Chapter Sixteen Xander was silent as he wrapped the white tape around Aiden’s left wrist and hand in a practiced, methodical manner. There was no point in going over the game plan they’d worked on during the week to beat Aiden’s upcoming opponent. He was no longer planning on beating him. The new plan was to make the first two rounds look close, then go down somewhere in the third round.

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Then it would all be over… His short-lived consideration for making a career comeback. The debt owed to Sicoli, plus the blackmail money owed to Sully, thereby eliminating the danger to Kat and her sister. And his brief departure from reality where he entertained the dream of being with Kat…indefinitely. It was that last one that threatened to kill him. He hadn’t gotten any sleep last night and had almost raided Xander’s personal stash of scotch. He’d just wanted to drink until he was so numb he couldn’t feel anymore. But he’d tried that tactic after Janey was killed, needing to erase the memory of her being struck by the car only a few feet away from him, and it hadn’t worked then,

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either. He’d learned the hard way that abusing alcohol was nothing but a one-way ticket to a life of hell. The difference now was that a life without Kat felt like a different kind of hell. The kind that burned him soul-deep. And he doubted anything existed that could put out the flames. “That feel okay?” Xander asked after patting down the end of the tape. Aiden flexed his fingers then made a fist. “Fine.” He nodded for him to wrap his right hand and attempted to turn his thoughts to the present. The room they were set up in wasn’t very big, nor was it the cleanest. But it gave the fighters a place to get prepped and into the zone. Considering the tourney was

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underground, he considered the private space a luxury. Most of the time fighters in secret circuits had to glove up on the sidelines right before they entered the cage. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize how he wanted the fight to go. It didn’t matter if he was taking a fall or not. He still had to walk the fine line of beating the guy up enough to make it look like he was trying without actually knocking his block off for two rounds. Aiden didn’t move when he heard the hinges creak as the door opened, letting in the deafening noise of the crowd echoing down the hall. He expected a runner to announce how much time he had left, but when the door clicked shut, he froze and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

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Kat. He felt her there as easily as he felt his own limbs. Taking in a deep breath through his nose, he reveled in her lilac scent for a brief moment before he steeled himself and opened his eyes. Jesus Christ. His memory never did her justice, but this was almost like seeing her for the first time all over again. She was breathtaking in a cream-colored sundress that skimmed her mid-thigh, leaving plenty of her sexy bare legs to view between her hem and the beat-up cowboy boots she wore. Her unbound hair hung behind her delicate shoulders and graceful neck, which held the necklace he’d given her the night before. Off of her he’d thought it was perfect, but on her it looked even more…right.

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Aiden was glad to see that the small length of chain did in fact lay over her scar and the blue topaz made her eyes practically glow. Or maybe that was the fire she was currently directing at him. He’d witnessed a myriad of emotional states from Kat, but he didn’t recall anger ever being one of them. Until now. “What are you doing here, Kat?” He gestured to Xander to continue taping his hand to give him something to watch other than the rise and fall of her chest with every breath she took. “I came to support you in your fight, watch you win, and then take you back to my place so you can apologize to Murphy for upsetting him last night and tell him you have no intention of going anywhere.” Raising a questioning brow, he chanced a

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quick glance at her. Fuck. He should have kept his eyes closed earlier. Now he was having a damn hard time reminding himself of all the reasons he couldn’t scoop her up and ravish her on the spot. Turning his attention back to the wrap job, he tried to sound as unaffected as possible. “I already said everything I needed to say to Murphy last night. He’ll forget all about me in no time.” “Oh, you think so, do you?” she fired back. “Did you ever think maybe you should ask him what he wants? Or do you always decide what’s best for everyone else?” Xander finished wrapping Aiden’s hand and grabbed the gym bag with his street clothes in it. “I’ll wait outside for you, but we’ve only got a few minutes.” Aiden nodded and watched enviously as

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his best friend received a smile and welcoming hug from Kat. In return, Xan whispered something in her ear to which she replied loud and clear, “Not a chance.” He laughed, kissed her on the cheek, and moved out to the hall, closing the door behind him. Aiden told himself not to ask, but damn if his pride ever listened to him. “What’d he say to you?” She folded her arms across her chest and cocked a stubborn hip to the side. “He told me to take it easy on you because you’re a bloody half-wit.” He scoffed and unfolded himself from the metal chair he’d been straddling. “I suppose you agree with him, is that it?” “Based on your theory of me being too good for you, yes, I’d have to say that I do.”

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“You are too good for me, Kat. Why is that so hard for you to see?” Frustration had him pacing in the small room like a penned lion. “You’re an amazing person with a good heart and you deserve every happiness you can get.” Stalking over to him, she grabbed his arm and pulled him up short. “Then I’m not the only one who has bad eyesight because I can say the same to you, Aiden.” It still affected him to hear her use his given name. Usually she used his nickname except in especially tender moments or when they made love. Now it brought out a Pavlovian reaction in him. One where any time she used it, he wanted to wrap her in his arms and show her just how much she meant to him.

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“Why are you here, Kat?” he ground out. “Because I’m tired of others deciding my future for me. So now I’m going to fight for what I want. And what I want”—she placed her gentle hands on either side of his face and held his gaze—“is you, Aiden Murphy O’Brien. All of you.” Ah, hell, he knew he never should have given her his middle name. He blew out a breath and lowered his forehead to hers, keeping his eyes closed for fear of her seeing the coward he truly was if she looked too closely. “Kat, you don’t know what—” Fingers pressed against his lips cut him off. “Don’t you dare patronize me and say I don’t know what I want. That’s bullshit and you know it.” He couldn’t help the crooked grin from

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cracking his stoic mask. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a force to be reckoned with, Katherine Terese MacGregor?” She rewarded him with a brilliant smile and hooked her hands around his neck. His arms instinctively wrapped around her trim waist and he pulled her against him. “Not even once,” she said, “but I like the way it sounds.” Aiden chuckled, losing himself to the drug of her happiness. A hard knock on the door yanked him back to the present as a pit bull of a man entered the room. He looked like he’d been in the cage more than his fair share back in his prime and had an attitude to match. “O’Brien, you know who I am?” “Yes, sir, Mr. McManus, I do.”

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“Good,” Victor said with a satisfied grin. “I’ll be watching your fight. If you manage a repeat of last week, I’d like to talk about your long-term options. I’ll be in touch.” Aiden barely had time to get out a polite “thank you” before the manager punctuated the almost-conversation with a terse nod and left as quickly as he came. Kat turned to him, excitement shining on her face. “Oh my God, that was so awesome! I can’t wait to see what he has to say after you win again tonight.” Nothing like reality giving him a swift kick in the nuts to remind him of why he didn’t want her at the fight. Not only did his ego balk at her witnessing such a shitty fight, but he had no idea if the Sicoli boys would want their cannoli and eat it, too, and he didn’t

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want to serve her up on a silver platter. “Kat, listen to me,” he said, bringing her hands down in front of him. “I want you to go home, and after I’m done fighting I’ll come over and we can talk then, okay?” “Absolutely not. I’m here to support you and cheer you on. End of discussion.” Xan’s voice bellowed through the door. “Two minutes or you forfeit, mate. Let’s go!” Damn it, he had no time to argue, and to say she was in rare form would be an understatement. Fuck! “Okay fine, but you stay close to Xander, you hear me? I don’t trust anyone in this joint. Promise me you’ll stay with him. No matter what, Kat.” Crossing her heart with a finger, she said, “I promise I’ll stay with Xander.” He wasn’t nearly satisfied with that, but it

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would have to do for now. He had a fight to lose if he wanted Kat off the hook and safe to move on with her life. Whether it would be with him or without remained to be seen. “Then let’s go,” he said, opening the door for her. Before stepping into the hall, she stopped in front of him with the sort of confidence that only came from one thing: love. “You’re going to win. I can feel it.” Bending down, he kissed her lips and savored the tingling sensations curling through his body he thought he’d never experience again. “I hate the thought of disappointing you, kitten.” “It’s not possible,” she said, offering a reassuring smile. Though he knew it wasn’t true, Aiden held

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onto the thought for as long as he could. Apparently no one had taught her not to count her chickens before they hatch. Placing a hand on her lower back, he guided her toward the arena floor and tried not to think about how disappointed in him she was about to be.

… Kat peeked through the fingers she’d been holding over her eyes for the last… She glanced at the huge digital timer on the wall. It felt like they’d been at it for an hour already. Holy shit, only a minute had gone by in the second round? An agonizing minute of watching Irish barely survive inside the black octagonal cage in the center of a howling, bloodthirsty crowd.

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She didn’t understand it. She wasn’t a total imbecile when it came to the sport. She’d caught it on TV a handful of times before she’d even met Irish and watched him train and asked him and Xander a million questions. So why did it seem like something wasn’t right? Not only did Irish look like his heart wasn’t in the fight, but Xander wasn’t even coaching him. The other guy had a couple different people shouting tips and encouragement. As Aiden was slammed up against the cage yet again, Kat turned to yell into Xander’s ear so he could hear her above the din. “Something’s wrong with him, Xan!” The bell signaling the end of round two interrupted any answer she may have gotten. Xander picked up a stool and a bucket

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holding a water bottle, ice bags, and a few other items and raced into the cage. Irish plopped down on the stool, but it didn’t appear as though it was from exhaustion or weakness. He looked…defeated. Kat gripped the cage and stood on her toes to get as close to him as possible. “Irish!” As Xander rubbed the bag of ice on the backs of his shoulders, Irish turned his head just enough to make eye contact with her. Sweat covered his body and dripped from his hair, but he hadn’t suffered any serious injuries from what she could see. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you creaming this guy?” A cynical smile twisted his lips. “Sorry, sweetheart. He’s the better man this time.” She jerked back. He couldn’t have shocked her more if he’d hauled off and slapped her.

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“What the fuck are you talking about? I’ve seen you spar harder with Xander than what you’re doing now.” Something she couldn’t pinpoint flashed in his eyes before he looked away. She squeezed the fence links in frustration until her fingers went numb. His second chance for a career in the UFC was on the line and if he didn’t shape up, it would be gone before— Oh, shit. Is that what he’s doing? “Hey,” she yelled. “You better not be throwing this fight to sabotage your future from some bonehead fear you’ve concocted in that thick skull of yours, O’Brien, or so help me God—” “He has to throw the fight to pay off Sicoli and the dogs working for him.” Xander’s words could have been Greek for all the sense they made. If Irish had told him

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about the situation with Sicoli, then surely he would have mentioned the part about Sicoli being Lenny’s problem now, not hers. Not any longer. Irish said he’d made sure of it. “What the fuck, Xan?” Irish bit out. “She needs to know for her own good. Ignorance isn’t bliss, Aid, it’s dangerous.” “In another five minutes it’ll all be over.” “Maybe,” Xander said, putting everything back in the bucket. “And maybe not. You have no idea.” Kat’s heart beat in her throat as her eyes darted between the scowling men, and she prayed fervently that what she thought they were saying wasn’t actually what they were saying. “What the hell are you guys talking about?” The bell rang again, signaling the end of

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the break and the beginning of the final round. Irish and Xan stood and exchanged meaningful looks as though sharing a telepathic conversation. Irish nodded. Xander clapped him on the shoulder. By the time Xan reached her on the outside of the cage and the third round began, Kat was a bundle of nerves ready to explode. She grabbed at the front of Xander’s shirt. “What’s he doing, Xander? I need to know.” He cut a pointed glance off to the side. “See those two guys over there with the cheap suits?” “You mean the guys who work for Victor McManus? They came to talk to Irish last night at work.” “They don’t work for Victor. They work for Sicoli.” Concern etched his face and his large

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hands settled on her shoulders. “Irish entered the tourney for the prize money. He promised those assholes double what they needed to bring back to their boss so they’d leave you alone. Only then they got greedy and told him he needed to fall in the third round tonight. Or else.” Kat reeled. The world fell out of focus briefly…and then everything became crystal clear. So this was what it felt like to fall down the rabbit hole. The safe world she thought she’d been living in for the past couple of weeks was replaced by one where nothing was as it seemed. One where the man she loved was risking his safety and his career for her. Oh, no. Just like Nessie tried to do. No, no, no. She couldn’t let him destroy his

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future to save hers. It wasn’t worth it. Releasing Xander, Kat turned back to the fight. The crowd seemed to have gotten louder, but maybe that was because now she needed to get Irish’s attention. She screamed his name as the men shoved off from each other and squared up in the center again. “Don’t you dare lose this fight, do you hear me?” He did because his gaze flicked to her before returning to the brute across from him. “This was never your problem! I’ll leave town, and they’ll follow me!” In a lightning-quick move that proved he hadn’t been fighting near his full potential, Irish threw a left-right combo that ended with his fist in his opponent’s groin. The audience empathized with a collective groan as the guy covered his balls and doubled

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over. The ref called a timeout, but Irish was already stalking in her direction. He pulled out his mouth guard with one hand and used the other to point at her through one of the holes in the cage. “Don’t even fucking think about it. You leave town, and you’re as good as dead.” “I dodged them once; I can do it again.” “They have a tracker on you, Kat,” he yelled. “That’s what that thing is in your forearm.” Chills tripped down her spine as she rubbed her thumb over the small bump. That they’d known her every step for weeks made her want to throw up. Instead she lifted her chin and tried projecting a determination she didn’t yet feel. “I’ll get it out.” “Goddammit, listen to me.” Lowering to

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his haunches, Irish got as close to her as the cage allowed. “They know about your sister. They threatened to bring her in to Sicoli if you ran.” All the blood drained from her head. If it wasn’t for Xander steadying her she would have collapsed where she stood. “Kat!” Irish hit the cage with an open palm, snapping her to attention. “Just stay with Xan and let me handle this, okay?” She nodded despite the terror snaking its way up her spine. Satisfied with her agreement, Irish unfolded to his full height. Standing there in his shorts and fingerless gloves, fists and jaw clenched, he looked every bit the warrior she knew him to be. As scared as she was, she trusted him with her life—literally.

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The ref called for the fighters. She watched him turn and walk to the center of the cage, every step taking him closer to the moment that would put an end to her trouble…and an end to his second chance. Kat clasped her hands together and pressed them to her mouth. With Vanessa’s life on the line, she couldn’t afford to think of the down sides for her or Irish. Surely this underground tournament wasn’t the only way for him to regain his place in the world of MMA. Once all this was over, she’d do whatever it took to get him another shot. Then she’d only owe him a couple dozen more huge favors to make them even. The fight resumed. Kat’s eyes darted in a continuous circle: Irish, digital clock, thugs. Repeat. This round wasn’t nearly as active as

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the previous two. The other guy was doing a lot of leg kicks to the inside of Irish’s knee and dancing around, but not much else. Less than two minutes remained on the clock. If something didn’t happen soon, the fight would be over. She leaned into Xander. “Why isn’t anything happening?” “The wanker’s not entirely stupid. He’s clearly won the first two rounds, so all he has to do is survive the third to win the fight.” “Does his deal count if he loses by decision?” Xander shook his head. “Has to be by knockout or submission in the third round.” As they talked, Irish started getting more aggressive. He pressed the fight, punched harder. At one point he even taunted the

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other guy. “He’s trying to make him throw something or go in for a takedown. To do that he’ll have to either piss him off or make him think there’s a chance he’s about to lose.” Those sounded like long shots. Maybe worse than long shots. She’d have more confidence if Xander didn’t look just as worried. He had a shitty poker face. Kat glanced at the clock. Forty-five seconds. Her stomach roiled and acid crept up her throat. She swallowed it down, wincing from the burn. Leaning back slightly she found Sully and Vinnie in the back. Scowls darkened their faces as they took note of the clock ticking down what little time was left in the fight. Sully said something to Vinnie and they started moving toward the aisle,

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keeping an eye on the fight, the clock…and her. Shit! When Irish noticed the thugs making their way to the front, rage flashed over his face. Spitting out his mouth guard, he held his arms out wide and shouted at his opponent. He was clearly antagonizing him, although with the crowd’s deafening shouts it was impossible to hear what he said. The other fighter continued to bounce on his toes, and then winked at Irish with a smug, plasticfilled grin. Irish roared and threw a right cross that had his target spinning around, his face leading as the rest of his body attempted to untwist itself before falling in a boneless heap at the ref’s feet.

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Time slowed to a crawl. She prayed the man would get up and counter with something even remotely convincing so Irish could fake a believable loss. But her prayers went unanswered. The man didn’t move and the ref called the fight, raising Irish’s hand as the winner. Then all hell broke loose. The crowd went wild and some of them rushed the cage to celebrate with the winner. Irish was stuck in the sea of fans that now resembled a mosh pit at a grunge concert, but he still had his height advantage that allowed him to see the same thing she did: the bad guys closing in. “Kat, run! Go! Get out of here!” She never shook her head so hard in her life. “I’m not going anywhere without you!”

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He shouted a string of curses and used his broad shoulders to shove his way through the throng. Kat looked over her shoulder. The thugs were now pushing people out of their way. Xander picked up Irish’s duffel bag in one hand and grabbed onto Kat’s arm with the other. At last Irish emerged, his gloves already off. He jumped and hauled himself up onto the padded top of the fence, then dropped over to the outside. As soon as his feet hit the floor, he dug through his bag as Xan held it for him. Kat gripped his arm. “What are you doing? We have to go!” His still-taped hand emerged holding her gun, which he pointed straight into the air and shot off twice. The mass of fight fans

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panicked. They pushed in every direction for the nearest exit only to tangle themselves up more and more. Irish leaned in to say something to Xander, then grabbed onto her hand and said, “Don’t let go and don’t look back!” She nodded, but she didn’t think he noticed. He was too busy pulling her in the direction of the hall they’d come from earlier. Once they reached it, they broke into a dead run. Their steps echoed in the cement tunnel, making it sound like a posse was hot on their heels. They burst through the metal door at the end, into the gravel parking lot that had already started filling with the panic-stricken fans. “Where’s your car?” Kat pointed off to the right. “Over there in

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the very back.” They took off running again, but they didn’t get far before they heard the men following their lead. Her heart jackhammered against her ribs so hard her chest ached. A second later a gunshot sounded and struck a car next to them. Kat ducked and screamed. “Come on!” Irish pulled her up and wove them through the maze of cars. “I see it. Almost there!” The pandemonium spread over the parking lot. Shouts and screams mixed with slamming doors and spinning tires. Fear had a death grip on her throat, severing her voice. She couldn’t get a full breath. Several more gunshots rang out and peppered the ground and vehicles around them, and still she ran with her eyes locked on Irish. Her

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protector. Her lifeline. With only one more row separating them and her car, he ordered her to go on ahead, get into the passenger seat, and start the engine. The thought of leaving him behind scared the hell out of her, but the fact that he planned on driving the car said he had no intentions of not catching up. Bolting ahead, she grabbed her keys from her purse and unlocked the passenger door as fast as her shaking hands allowed. As she yanked it open, she heard more gunshots. Unable to stop herself, she looked back to see Irish running toward her with Sully and Vinnie close behind. He yelled for her to start the car, effectively ending her frozen-in-fear moment. Seconds later, she watched Irish slide across the hood and then

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fling himself around the drivers’ door she’d opened. Throwing the car into gear, he pushed her head down and took off. They didn’t speak for several minutes. The only sounds were that of the car and their panting as they both tried to catch their breath. When he finally lifted his hand from her back, she eased herself up and looked over at him. Both hands gripped the wheel tightly, the muscles in his arms twitching from tension. Determination and seething anger warred on his face in the set of his brow and the clenching of his jaw. She noticed he never once glanced at the rearview or side mirrors, whereas she wanted to turn full around and watch for any tails. He appeared so wrapped up in his thoughts that Kat wondered if he

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remembered she was there. She was almost afraid to speak, but she had to know what he was thinking. Glancing at the side mirror, she asked, “How long do you think it’ll be before they catch up with us?” “I saw their Caddy as we were running, so I shot their tires out. It should give us a good enough head start until we can get rid of everything they can use to find us.” She rubbed a finger over the bump in her forearm. “Like my tracker,” she said softly. “Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly. “Like that.” He grunted as he shifted in his seat. And that’s when she saw the blood.

Chapter Seventeen “Oh my God,” she gasped. “You’ve been shot.” Aiden didn’t bother looking at the gash in his side again. The thing stung like a son of a bitch, so he wasn’t likely to forget it was there. “It’s just a graze, sweetheart.” He slid her a wry grin. “I’ll live.” “But it’s from a bullet and— Oh my God,

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you need a doct—” “Hey,” he said, cupping her chin and holding her gaze between glances back at the road. “Don’t go getting hysterical on me now. It looks worse than it is. I can fix this myself. I’m gonna be just fine, all right?” Kat’s eyes were wide and misty, but she blinked back the tears and nodded. He dropped his hand to her lap and threaded his fingers through hers, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “So now what do we do?” Her voice sounded small and uncertain like she had when this whole thing started. Over the last couple of weeks, when she’d thought the danger was gone, Kat had shed that scared persona and become a vibrant woman who smiled easily and laughed often. And now that woman was gone as though

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she’d never existed. Just another reason to end every motherfucker who had a hand in threatening her. “We’re meeting up with Xander to trade cars. He’ll drive yours in the opposite direction and stash it somewhere so they’re thrown off our trail. We’ll hole up in a motel for the night.” She nodded again and remained silent until they met Xander at a busy truck stop on Highway 10. Xan had followed Aiden’s instructions and stopped at Kat’s to grab her some clothes and Murphy. He didn’t know how long they’d be on the lam until he could figure out how to rectify the situation for good, and the last thing she needed was to worry about the kitten. Xander got out of his Nova holding

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Murphy. As soon as she saw his gray fur, she flipped into Mom-mode and scooped him into her arms. While she was busy cooing over the fur ball in the passenger seat, Aiden and Xan moved to the trunk where Aiden’s duffel was stored. “Holy shite, mate, what the fuck happened to you?” Aiden unzipped his bag and took out the pair of athletic sandals and the black wifebeater he’d worn to the arena earlier. Reaching into the front of his shorts, he removed the protective cup from the crotch of his compression shorts, essentially turning them into nothing more than boxer briefs, and dropped it into the bag. Then he carefully slipped his feet into the sandals and tried to ignore the stinging from the cuts he’d gotten

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by running full-speed over gravel. “Bullet grazed me. Mostly their aim sucked, but I let them get too close when I made a detour to shoot out their tires.” Xan whistled and opened up the large first-aid kit to grab the things needed for a quick patch job, something fighters were used to doing themselves instead of going to the doctor for every little thing. Once the blood was wiped clean, they smeared the wound with antibacterial ointment and taped a bunch of gauze over it. He’d have to do better than that later, but it’d do the trick until then. Aiden pulled his tank on, hissing through the pain when he lifted his right arm too far. He gathered more alcohol wipes, ointment, and a big Band-Aid, then tossed the kit in his

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duffel before taking it with him. Xan closed the trunk. As they rounded the side of the car, he said, “Your wallet is in the glove box along with an envelope of cash. There’s a couple grand in there, so don’t go doing anything daft like using your credit cards.” “Thanks, man, I owe you.” “Just don’t get yourselves killed.” “What a coincidence,” Aiden muttered. “That was my plan, too. Do me a favor, will ya? Grab some bottles of water and snacks. I don’t know if she’ll feel faint after this, but if she does, maybe getting something in her will help.” Xan clapped him on the shoulder and headed to the gas-station-slash-diner. Aiden took a deep breath then slid into the driver

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seat, setting his duffel next to him. Kat looked up from petting a napping Murphy in her lap. The peaceful grin melted from her face when she spotted the supplies he held. He resented the need to bring her back to reality, but every minute they delayed put them that much closer to being caught. “We gotta take out the tracker, sweetheart. You ready?” She swallowed hard but nodded bravely. He riffled through his bag and retrieved a large pocketknife and the towel he would have used to dry off with after the fight. “First a gun then a knife. You really come prepared, don’t you?” He smiled, hoping it appeared more genuine than it felt. “Recent events have had me

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thinking more like a Boy Scout, I guess.” After laying the folded towel on the bag between them, he got to work sterilizing the blade with the alcohol wipes. “Okay, put your arm on the towel. You want something to bite down on?” She shook her head. “Just hurry and get it over with,” she said through a clenched jaw. “I want the fucking thing out.” Aiden steeled himself as he peered at the small bump on the underside of her forearm. He wasn’t typically squeamish when it came to blood or gaping cuts, but that was when they were on him or his friends. They were used to sucking up the pain and dealing with shit like that. But the idea of the woman he loved having to deal with it, much less that he would be the one to inflict the pain, was

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enough to make his stomach twist in knots. “Okay, baby, listen to me. I want you to keep your eyes on Murphy. I’ll do this as fast as I can, and then we’re outta here. Deal?” Again she nodded and then cast her watery gaze downward to where the kitten was still snuggled in her lap. He used the fingers of his left hand to hold her skin tight over the oblong tracker no bigger than a grain of rice. Then he guided the tip of the knife to make a small incision over the top. A tiny whimper escaped her throat, but he wouldn’t let himself look up to check on her. If he did that, he’d want to stop, and that wasn’t an option. Setting the knife aside, he used his thumbs to press in on the sides of the incision. Rivulets of blood ran out from the cut to soak into the towel below, but a moment later the

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tracker slid out rather easily. He set it in a gauze square, then quickly cleaned and bandaged the cut. When it was over, he slid across the bench seat and gathered her into his arms. She buried her head in his neck where the wetness on his skin from her tears felt like she’d turned the blade on him. “I’m so fucking sorry, kitten,” he whispered at her ear. “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you like that. I’m gonna make those bastards pay for everything they’ve done to you. I swear it.” She sniffed and pulled back to wipe her face and offer him a weak smile. “I’m fine. A few ibuprofen, and I’ll be as good as new.” Unable to help himself, he kissed her and reveled in the softness of her lips and the way she melted into him. A knock on the

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window by Xander broke them apart and set their plan in motion once again. Aiden accepted the plastic bag of waters and snacks and gave the tracker to his friend, who tossed it into Kat’s car. “Right,” Xan started. “I’ll go stash the car. I’ve already set it up with Anders to come and collect me and Murphy. He said we can stay with him for a few days, no questions asked.” “Sounds good. With any luck, if they show up at the house, Ally’ll put that bad temper to good use.” “Aye, that would be something, wouldn’t it?” Xander walked around and leaned in through Kat’s open window. “Come on, lass, give ol’ Xan a hug.” She did, wrapping her arms around his

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neck and squeezing. “Thank you so much, Xander. For everything.” When she finally released the rough-and-tough Yorkie, his eyes looked suspiciously misty. “It’s been my pleasure, pet.” Kat gathered Murphy in her hands, kissed his little nose, and handed him over to Xander. Feeling the urgency tugging on him, Aiden moved his duffel to the backseat and started the Nova. The engine roared to life, strong and steady, promising to carry them as far as they needed to be safe for the night. Xander had crossed back around to his side. Leaning down, he pinned Aiden with a somber stare. “You know, Aid, maybe you should think about ringing Joey. I know the local law enforcement isn’t an option. Maybe he’d be able to help, or at least tell you of

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someone else who can.” “Forget it, Xan,” he said tightly. “I’m not opening that fucking can of worms. I’ll figure this out on my own.” Xander’s disappointment showed, but he didn’t press the issue. Aiden didn’t like leaving on a sour note with the man who’d been his best friend for the last several years, but he didn’t have time to fix it. He needed to get Kat the hell away from that tracker. And with that single thought riding him, he said goodbye to his friend and drove away.

… “Who’s Joey?” They’d been driving on the highway in silence for the last twenty minutes since leaving the truck stop. Kat was exhausted and

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her arm hurt and she’d reached her limit of playing the Alphabet Game as a means of mental distraction. “We were best friends from the time we were in diapers. Our moms were friends, and we grew up on the same block.” Irish may have decided to appease her need for conversation, but the way his left arm tensed as he gripped the wheel a little harder made her think he wasn’t all that thrilled about it. Unfortunately for him, her curiosity was piqued enough to push for any information he would give her about him and his past. There was so much she wanted to know, to understand. “But you aren’t friends anymore?” The muscle in his jaw jumped. “No.” Tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled

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in warning. Something was telling her to shut the hell up. Maybe it was her intuition, or maybe he was silently praying she’d stop prying. Either way, she ignored it. “Why not?” “It’s hard to maintain a friendship when you kill a guy’s little sister.” Kat sighed. “Damn, Irish, even I know you’re not supposed to date your best friend’s sister. How badly did you break her heart?” “I didn’t break it, Kat,” he said, his voice razor sharp. “I stopped it.” “Yeah, but…you mean that metaphorically. Right?” “I mean for the last five years, she’s been six feet underground, and I’m the one who put her there.”

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“Irish, no.” She shook her head. There must be some mistake. “You could never.” Kat stared at his profile as it blinked in and out of the streetlamps shining through the windshield. He didn’t respond for what seemed like forever and when he did it was flat, lifeless. “Just because you don’t want something to be true doesn’t mean it isn’t.” He glanced in her direction and softened his tone. “You know that.” She did know it. How many times over the years had she wished her reality was something better? Hundreds. And yet it remained just as ugly as it had been the day before. “I don’t understand. How?” “It doesn’t matter how.” Kat turned her body, resting her left arm

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along the seat back. “Of course it matters. Are we talking something like a stabbing? Or something like you gave her a bite of your cashew chicken not knowing she was deathly allergic to nuts?” Irish dragged a taped hand down his extra-scruffy face. Suddenly he looked exhausted. But not the kind he’d have from a long day or a tough fight. The bone-weary kind a person gets when he’s been carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders for too damn long. “I don’t want to talk about it. Nothing can bring her back.” Scooting into the middle of the bench, she used her left hand to lightly massage the base of his neck. “I know, but it’s not her I’m worried about. You’ll be joining her before

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too long if you continue to live with this guilt you don’t deserve.” He scoffed. “I deserve every fucking drop of guilt I have.” “It must have been an accident. You would never hurt a friend intentionally.” “Not for nothing, sweetheart, but you don’t know that.” “I see,” she said stiffly as she resumed her position on the passenger side. The man had a knack for firing her blood, only this time it wasn’t with desire. He was pissing her off. “I guess I have to wonder how much of what you’ve said to me is total bullshit, then.” Irish cut her a sidelong glance. “What are you talking about?” “You said I should trust my instincts when I recognize the goodness in others, but

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clearly you didn’t mean it.” “The hell I didn’t.” “Then you need to acknowledge that I recognize the goodness in you. And, unless you can tell me why I should feel differently, there is no way I’ll ever believe you killed that girl.” He jerked the wheel to the right, barely making the exit they’d almost passed. If not for her quick reflexes, she’d be facedown in his lap right now. Pulling onto the shoulder of the off-ramp, he cut the engine and turned to face her, anger edging his features. “You sure you wanna hear this?” She banished the trace of uncertainty from the back of her mind and met his challenge with a lift of her chin. “Absolutely.” A hint of sadness flashed through his eyes

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before the hardness returned. “Fine. Like I said, our mothers were close friends, so Janey was like my third sister and Joey felt the same about mine. We didn’t live in a great neighborhood, so there were plenty of times when we had to protect ourselves and our sisters. But no matter what, Joey and I never ran scared. We dealt with every bully and badass. Only his way of dealing with things was different from mine.” Kat’s pulse picked up speed, making her cut throb with every beat and her breathing shallow. She dared not move or ask any questions. Irish had finally decided to open up to her. Regardless of whether the decision was borne of frustration or not, she wasn’t about to look the pissed-off gift horse in the mouth.

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“Joey preferred to talk his way out of things. Not that he was afraid to fight, ’cause the guy could throw down if he had to. But fighting was always his last resort. Cool as a cucumber, that was Joey. “Then there was me. I had a short fuse with heavy hands, and I never hesitated to use them. Everyone knew, they fucked with me I’d fuck with them right back. Joey was the peacemaker and I was the brawler, so it was no surprise that he became a cop and I became a fighter.” A semi passed them, rocking the car slightly in its wake. Irish looked over to watch it stop at the intersection and make the turn. Kat held her breath and hoped he wouldn’t change his mind about talking. She couldn’t let it go anymore. She had to know

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why he thought himself capable of killing anyone, much less his best friend’s little sister. Continuing to stare out the front window, he spoke softly. “Joey always said that one day I’d hurt the wrong person if I didn’t learn to control my temper. That it was inevitable. ” His gaze dropped to his hands, still wrapped in the tape, and became distant. As though he could see the past on the overlapping strips of white across his palms. “He was right.” Kat scooted closer and placed her hands in his. He curled his fingers over them, giving a quick squeeze. “Tell me what happened.” He shook his head and started to turn away, but she pulled his hands in until he stopped and looked at her. “Aiden, please.”

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He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “Joey became a cop, but Janey went the other way. She skipped school and hung around with the wrong kids. Got hooked on crystal meth.” Oh, God. Now she understood a little better why he’d gotten so upset at the thought of her having a part in distributing the drug for Sicoli. “But we never stopped loving her just ’cause she lost her way, you know?” “Of course not.” He nodded, almost in relief that she understood. “So anyway, this one night I was celebrating a pretty big win at our local pub. Joey had a shift that night, but I was with Jax and Xander. They were still in training so they weren’t drinking, but I got

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hammered. I saw Janey walk in with a guy I’d heard was her new boyfriend, but I didn’t give a damn about him. I was so happy to see her I gave her a big hug and kiss, and we talked for a long time before I was dragged away for more celebrating. “A little bit later I noticed neither of them was in the bar, but her stuff was still on her stool so I went looking for her. I found her outside getting yelled at in the rain by that asshole. The argument must have been about me because she defended her relationship with me and then said if he was so mad he should just leave and she’d get a ride home from me and my friends. That’s when he…” Oh, damn. She knew what sort of volatile reaction a prick like that would have when challenged. She’d known plenty of them in

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her day. “Let me guess. He hit her.” Irish nodded. “Hard. And I lost it. Usually when my temper flared, it was this feeling of rage that consumed me, drove me. But when he hit her, it was like…like an animal inside me being unleashed. I wanted him to know what it was like to get beat on, and I wanted him to beg for mercy before I even considered letting up. “Xan and Jax didn’t try to break it up—they’d seen him hit her, too, and they knew I wasn’t gonna kill the guy—but Janey…” His deep blue eyes misted over and his throat worked to rid him of the lump she imagined forming there. “God, Janey.” He plowed his right hand through his hair and fisted a chunk until he winced. Causing

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himself pain probably helped release the emotions he’d bottled up inside for so long. Her heart broke for him already. Resting his elbow on the seat back, he kept that fist in his hair and his gaze where she still held his other hand. “Afterward, I remembered hearing her shout for us to stop, begging me not to kill him. But at the time all I heard was the roar of blood in my ears and the sound of our fists meeting flesh and bone. Someone tried getting between us. I didn’t register who it was before Janey’s boyfriend shoved whoever it was out of our way, which was fine with me because I got in another good shot.” Kat’s stomach lurched. She prayed her assumption of how the story ended was wrong, but she already knew it wasn’t. She’d gone

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into this knowing the tragic outcome. All that was left was to listen to how it happened so she could help Irish get past his guilt. He finally lifted his eyes to hers, causing the wall of tears to overflow in a thin stream down his cheeks. “Joey’d finished his shift and decided to come out. I didn’t see him at the end of the block, but I heard him yell Janey’s name. That’s what finally got through to me. I’d never heard him so terrified, so desperate. “I looked over to see her in the road, struggling to get up in the rain. Headlights swung around and landed on her. I tried to get to her but I wasn’t fast enough. She screamed and—” He cleared his throat and swiped at the moisture on his face. He kept his eyes

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averted, looking around at everything in the car and out of it, except for her. Kat wanted to weep for the man she loved. A man so tough he brought men to heel with only a few words and others to their knees when words weren’t enough. And yet for all his toughness, the one thing completely soft on him was his heart. She’d seen him treat women, coworkers, and even kittens with a kindness and tenderness prone to the gentlest of souls. It was that part of him she fell in love with. The part that saw a scarred woman afraid of a man’s touch and patiently retrained her body and mind to not just accept his touch, but to crave it. For that alone she could have loved him. Lucky for her, there were dozens of other reasons as well.

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“Aiden,” she said softly as she cupped his jaw and forced him to make eye contact with her. “It was an accident. Terrible and tragic, but still an accident. You did not kill Janey.” He pulled her hands down and pinned her with a defiant stare. “Yes, I did. He hit her because of me. We fought because of me. And she sure as hell ended up in the street because of me.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. “I didn’t have to fight the bastard, Kat. I could have threatened his life and taken Janey home. Or had Joey and his police buddies stay on him until they busted him for something. But just like Joey warned me, I let my temper control my actions and it led to Janey’s death. It’s no one’s fault but mine she’s gone. It’s why I stopped drinking

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and quit fighting. I’m hard enough to control without getting help from alcohol and a career that feeds the darkness inside me.” “But—” “Don’t you get it?” he asked, his raised voice sending a chill down the back of her neck. “I hurt the people I love the most because they’re around when my shit blows up. It might not be today and it might not be tomorrow, but eventually something will cause me to snap. And when I do, everyone will be in danger. Including you.”

Chapter Eighteen She’d leave him now. Aiden couldn’t have been clearer about the danger she was in just by being with him. Now she would finally understand why he pushed everyone away who couldn’t defend themselves against him. He kept in phone contact with his mom and sisters, but that was about it. He’d never survive if he lost one of them like they’d lost Janey, so he didn’t

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take any chances. As it was, Aiden wasn’t sure how his heart would survive when Kat walked away from him. He never imagined being able to love a woman so completely, so intensely. He knew he’d never be unbroken, but somehow she made him feel like his broken pieces were glued back together. That in itself was something he never thought possible. Kind of made her a little miracle worker, his Kat. My Kat. Not for much longer. Without word or warning, she got to her knees and straddled his hips, wrapping her arms around him and tucking her face into his neck. “You would never, and could never, hurt me like that. I don’t agree with your guilt over Janey, but I do understand it. I’ll

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help you get over it in time, help you heal. You didn’t give up on me, and now I’m not giving up on you.” Unable to summon the strength he needed to push her away like he should, Aiden held her tight, closed his eyes, and lost himself in her embrace. He’d made the decision to stay in Alabaster to keep her safe, but in the process it seemed she was determined to save him. An impossibility? Maybe, but that didn’t make her desire to see him redeemed any less amazing. And he loved her all the more for it. Another semi drove by, making him remember he’d stopped on the shoulder of an off-ramp. He needed to get them to a place to rest for the night. Pulling back slightly, he kissed her soft lips, then lowered his

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forehead to hers. “What do you say we get out of here so I can find us a room and show you just how much I’ve missed you.” “Mmm, I’d say that sounds perfect,” she purred. “Then you’d better get on your side of this bench seat before a certain part of me jumps the gun.” A devilish glint sparked in her eyes and she bit the corner of her lip, giving her a smirk to match. Somewhere in the back of his mind a robot bellowed, Danger, Will Robinson! but the moment her hand snaked between their bodies to squeeze his balls, all his circuits fried. She batted her lashes with a fake innocence that had his dick hardening. Well, that plus the whole ball-squeezing thing. “Would

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this be the part you’re referring to?” “You’re gonna make this an awfully uncomfortable drive for me, kitten, if you don’t keep your hands to yourself.” Stroking up his shaft, she raised a challenging brow. “Not if we take the edge off before we go anywhere.” Aiden damn near choked at the suggestion. The mere thought of her straddling him as he thrust up into her over and over was enough to make his cock punch through both pairs of shorts. “You don’t wanna do that, sweetheart.” Kat frowned, drawing his focus to that pouting lower lip. Jesus Christ, does this woman do anything that doesn’t tempt me? “Why not?” “Because it wouldn’t be the kind of

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lovemaking you’re used to with me,” he said. They’d both discussed several days ago that she seemed to be doing better. That her mind was starting to trust her instincts more to the point where her eyes drifted closed for short periods without it pulling her into herself. But she still had a long way to go and he didn’t want to push her in the wrong direction. “Public sex is never slow and easy. It’s fast and dirty. I don’t want that to trigger anything bad for you.” “It won’t,” she assured him, lacing her hands behind his neck. “Not as long as I can see that it’s you. I’ve never done anything like this; it’ll be a first for me. Please?” He took everything from me, Irish…all my firsts. I can never get any of those things back. They’re gone forever.

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Maybe they aren’t gone after all, Aiden thought. He couldn’t give her back things like her first kiss or her first time having sex, but he could give her firsts she probably never even thought of. Whether it was her first time having sex in public or her first baseball game, he selfishly wanted to be the one to give them to her. He slid his hands up her bare thighs but couldn’t feel her like he should because of the tape on his hands. He’d had more important things to worry about earlier and figured he’d cut it off when they got to their room. But there was no way in hell he’d sacrifice the feel of her on his palms if he could help it. Using his teeth, he worked at the wrap until he tore a decent chunk to grab. As he

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unwound it from his hand, he did his best to mentally prepare her. “Listen very carefully, Kat. I wanna fuck you so badly right now I can barely think straight.” One hand free, one to go. Again he bit at the tape until it ripped and he had an edge to grab. “This is gonna be fast and hard. I want your eyes on me at all times.” Her breaths were shallow and quick and the scent of her arousal drove him that much closer to insanity. Finally the entire length of tape joined the rest somewhere in the backseat. “Eyes on me, and you tell me right away if anything gets bad. Got it?” She nodded. “Words, Kat,” he reminded her. “Promise me.”

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“I will, I promise.” She’d barely gotten the words out before he crushed his mouth to hers. His tongue plunged inside and dominated her with forceful strokes. Licking and suckling, he ate at her like she was his last meal with only seconds to enjoy her. He fisted his hands in her silken hair and pulled, giving him better access to feast on her arched throat. But it wasn’t enough. Aiden still felt starved for her. Reaching beneath her dress, he grabbed her ass with both hands. She moaned and rocked herself over his erection. He hissed in a breath and nipped at the cord in her neck in retaliation. Grasping her panties, he rent them in two, baring her sweet pussy. True to his word, Aiden didn’t tease her or go slow.

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Instead he reached from behind and thrust his fingers deep inside. She cried out and dug her nails into his bare shoulders. Pulling out more of her juices, he slicked them over her swollen lips, then slid the wet tip of his middle finger up and circled her tight hole. She gasped but pushed back against it instead of lifting away from it. That small involuntary act conjured depraved desires of plunging deep in her ass to feel her constrict around him until he lost his mind. Then again, if he didn’t bury himself in her pussy in the next thirty seconds, there wouldn’t be any left of it to lose. Kat grabbed the sides of his face and yanked him back to her hungry mouth. Their tongues danced and fought for control. His timid kitten had become a voracious tiger

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laying claim to him as much as he did her, and it made his cock steel-hard. Still, despite her forward nature, he felt a thread of reserve about taking her this way. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it or had ever had reservations of this kind with any other woman. But Kat wasn’t just any woman. She was special in every way and deserved to be treated with tenderness and love. He’d never forgive himself if he ever made her feel cheap or used. “Last chance, baby,” he forced out. “I want this just as much as you, believe me.” He narrowed skeptical eyes at her. “I know what you need,” she said, a saucy smile twisting her mouth. “You always make sure I use my words, but what you need this time are the right words.”

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Her hands roved down his chest, the sound of her nails dragging along the cotton of his tank making his skin underneath envious. Aiden licked his suddenly dry lips and swallowed before asking, “And what would the right words be?” She leaned in, closing every millimeter of space deliberately and slowly, until he felt the hard points of her nipples graze his pecs and her sex rocked over his painfully hard erection. Whispering against his ear, her warm breath sent tingles down his spine that wrapped around his balls. “I want your cock. Hard, deep, and fast. I want you”—she paused to lick up the outer shell of his ear before enunciating the last three syllables for emphasis—“to fuck me.” Those words sounded dirty normally, but

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coming from her lips they sounded more carnal than anything he’d ever heard. And damn if it didn’t make him wicked hot, burning up the last thread of his restraint. Growling a curse of his own, Aiden freed himself from both pairs of shorts, then lifted her up and slammed himself into her tight heat in one swift move. Kat cried out, throwing her head back to expose the elegant curve of her neck. He held her in place with one arm around her waist and fisted his free hand in the back of her hair. Scraping his teeth up the length of her throat, he felt her tremble. Her nipples pebbled and rubbed against his chest. His mouth watered and he resented not having the time to taste and tease them like he wanted. Promising himself he’d get the

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chance later, he feasted on her lips and drank of her tongue like the starved man he was. Unable to hold back any longer, he wrenched himself away and held her gaze as his hands guided her hips up and down his slick shaft. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders as she took her cue from him, took control, and proceeded to fuck him into oblivion. Damp strands of hair stuck to her face and her skin shone with her desire in the pale moonlight. A mix of heavy breathing, grunts, and gasps accompanied their frenzied actions and filled his ears with its sweet music. Sweat dripped from his brow and his entire body was strung bow-tight as he desperately tried to hold off his own climax bearing

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down on him like a runaway train. He wanted to go over the edge with her, but if she wasn’t ready to go soon, he’d be making the trip solo. “Lean back, baby,” he said, gently pushing her back until her shoulders rested against the dashboard. The position was perfect for the angle he wanted, while the windshield prevented her from dropping her head back and losing sight of him. “Now keep your hips up and let me do all the work.” Bracing his feet on the floor and his shoulders on the seat back, Aiden had just enough room to almost completely withdraw before lifting his hips and burying himself to the root of his cock. He felt the flared head rub over the ridges of her G-spot, causing the nerve-rich flesh to shoot lines of white-hot

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fire straight to his balls with every thrust. When the bottom of his tank started to get in the way, he yanked it up over his abs, then used one hand to hold the skirt of her dress so he could see them join together. “You look so fucking amazing.” The sight of her swallowing every inch of him over and over, the way her pussy hugged him tight and bathed him in her juices was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen. If he didn’t make her come soon, he’d lose his control along with his mind and a good amount of his male pride. He called on every ounce of his training to keep up the maddening pace he should have been too tired and too injured to do at all. Using the thumb of his free hand, he found her swollen clit and worked it the way he

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knew made her crazy. Kat’s breaths escalated to pants, her eyes became bright and dilated with passion. At last, he felt her body begin to tremble as the walls of her pussy gripped him tighter with the approach of her climax. “Christ, baby, you’re killing me,” he rasped from a dry throat. “I can’t hold back any more. Let me feel you, Kat. Let me feel you come.” With his forefinger and thumb, he gave a light squeeze and tug on her clit as he drove up into her hard and deep. She cried out, his name like a plea on her lips for him to follow her over the edge, which he happily obliged and welcomed the intoxicating release exploding through his body. Pulling her in, he held her as the tremors of her orgasm wracked her body and her sex milked every

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last drop from him. As they floated back to earth together, he reveled in the way she sank against him, her energy wrung out, and let him support her while she gathered her strength. It spoke of trust. Of contentment. He’d give anything to be able to remain buried inside her with her snuggled safe in his arms for all eternity. Headlights glaring at him from the rear and side mirrors snapped him back to the here and now. When the car passed them, he gently coaxed her to life. He tipped her chin back and gazed into her eyes, searching for signs he’d been too rough with her. “You okay, kitten?” A dopey smile spread across her face and subsequently melted his heart. “I’m perfect.” “Not gonna argue with you on that.” He

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kissed her one last time, then reluctantly unseated her from his lap, setting her off to the side. Reaching down to take care of the condom, he froze. There was no condom. Oh. Fuck. Panic set in like an icy brick in his stomach. He arranged his clothes and slid across the bench to the driver seat and gripped the wheel. From the corner of his eye, he watched Kat smooth her hands over her hair and down the front of her dress. He wasn’t concerned about giving or catching any diseases because they’d already both been open about their pasts, but what if she got pregnant? An image of her belly rounded with his child flashed in his mind and sent him into a cold sweat. The puzzling

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part was that he didn’t totally hate the idea. In fact, he almost swore he kind of liked it. Shaking his head to clear the crazy thoughts that had to be from one of the best orgasms of his life, he steeled himself for her reaction to the news. “Kat…” “Hmm?” “I didn’t use a condom.” Her motions stilled and her head whipped to the side. “Oh, wow… Huh… Okay, are we ready to go? I’d love a hot bath before we get to round two.” “That’s it?” Aiden couldn’t believe it. Why was she so accepting of his irresponsibility? Dark thoughts crossed his mind. She was used to men affecting her life without regard to her feelings or future. Unacceptable. “I was careless. It’s not like I don’t know that

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Xan has a stash of condoms, lube, and cuffs in the glove box for chrissake. You should be wicked pissed at me right now. I fucked up big, Kat, and you’re the one who has to deal with the potential consequences.” Scooting across the seat, she placed her hands on either side of his face and pinned him with a look that stopped his rant long enough for her to talk. “Enough. There’s no sense in worrying about something until we for sure know it’s an issue. And it was just as much my responsibility as it was yours. In fact,” she said with a grin while threading her fingers in his hair, “this time it’s more on me because I seduced you into it.” His hands released their white-knuckle hold on the steering wheel to pull her in closer. “Are you saying you have the power to

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make me so crazy I can’t think straight, kitten?” She gave him a fake look of pity. “Oh, Irish, I don’t have to say anything. I think I just proved it.” “Hell yeah, you did.” Aiden couldn’t stop his smile. Damn if she didn’t charm him right out of a panic attack when she was the one who had every reason to be upset and worried. From the very beginning, he’d set out to rescue her, and yet every day she saved him from himself little by little. No doubt about it, she was his angel. “All right, fine. We’ll table this conversation now under one condition. That we don’t take any more chances, and you promise to tell me as soon as you know either way.” Kat held up her right hand. “I promise.

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But that was two conditions.” “Math was never my best subject. Now what do you say we get off the road and into a room.”

Chapter Nineteen Aiden stretched out on the chaise longue in the corner of the room, his arms hooked over the back behind his head. Thanks to the open design of the room, only a large archway separated the bedroom from the large bathroom, giving him the perfect view of Kat soaking in a Jacuzzi bubble bath surrounded by candles. Originally, he’d planned to go to the first

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hole-in-the-wall motel he found, but at the last minute he gave in to his need to see her indulging in a little luxury. He knew that after tonight there was no telling how long they’d be on the run until he could figure things out. He wanted her to have at least one night of worry-free pampering. When they reached the Princeton Suites, her jaw fell slack as she stared wide-eyed at the opulence of the marble floors and massive chandeliers. As he suspected, she’d never stayed in anything nicer than a Motel 6. Once inside their room, he’d watched with a smile on his face as she discovered different amenities like a kid at FAO Schwarz at Christmas time. Seeing her in a state of giddy, childlike wonder had filled him with a

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sense of rightness. One he never expected to find. Kat exhaled and tipped her head back, her long hair piled high. Steam from the bath dampened the tendrils that framed her face. Her skin glistened in the glow of the candlelight and he could just see the swells of her breasts before they disappeared into the frothy bubbles. It didn’t take much for his imagination—or memory—to fill in the view beneath the water. However, it took a hell of a lot for him to stay put and let her enjoy the experience to her heart’s content. She looked positively regal, surrounded by the luxury of the taupe marble and gold faucets. The massive antique mirror hanging over the double sinks gave him twice the eyeful, making him twice as turned on.

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Aiden shifted on the seat and adjusted himself under his shorts. He might have the willpower to keep his distance, but there wasn’t enough willpower in the world to keep him from getting hard when it came to Kat MacGregor. Never had Aiden been so consumed by a woman. Emotionally, physically…completely. Kat made him feel things he never thought possible. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he could fly and stop speeding bullets. He felt invincible. He felt like her hero. She’d wanted him to join her, but he’d had to decline. As soon as she ran the water, he’d gotten to work. Concealing himself off to the side where she couldn’t see him, Aiden had stitched the torn flesh together as fast as

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possible. He muffled his pained grunts and growls with a washcloth stuffed in his mouth. A couple of times, it hurt so badly he thought he might pass out. It took deep breaths and an iron resolve to remain conscious and keep going. He’d stitched a cut on Xander once, but sewing himself up was something else entirely. It stung like a motherfucker, and he hadn’t wanted to get piss-drunk to dull the pain like Xan did. Aiden probably would’ve made an exception with his “no alcohol” rule, but he wanted to keep a clear head and stay sharp. They’d have to be on the road early tomorrow. Once the ugly patch job was done, he’d popped some ibuprofen, showered quickly, and slapped on some ointment and a clean

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bandage. He’d checked the locks on the door and made sure the front desk had instructions to call the room if anyone asked about them. Aiden didn’t think any of that was particularly necessary tonight, but better safe than sorry. Now he sat in nothing but his thin fighting shorts with his dick trying to pitch a tent while he waited for her to finish relaxing in the tub. He hoped like hell she didn’t take much longer. He had plans for her tonight.

… Stepping out of the large Jacuzzi tub, Kat was hyperaware that Irish watched her with a predatory gaze, making knots tighten deep in her belly. She felt what he saw. The soap

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bubbles sliding down her naked body, her nipples puckering from the chill of the air and the heat of his stare. He looked so damn sexy lounging on a white linen Victorian chaise. His rough masculinity contrasting with its graceful curves and elegant brocade trim. His shorts rode so low on his hips she could see where his dark trail of hair from his navel turned into the trim thatch around his erection. The colors of his tattoos stood out against the light fabric, making them almost three-dimensional under the glow of the dim recessed lighting. Someone who didn’t know him well would think he was relaxed and unaffected. But she noticed the finer details. The cords in his neck strung tight, the hollows of his cheeks deepening as he worked his jaw in

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impatience. Then of course was the obvious and very large bulge in the crotch region of his shorts. All signs he was poised and ready to pounce. Signs that triggered reactions within herself that continued to surprise her. It was a heady feeling knowing he wanted her as desperately as she wanted him. Using a plush towel that felt like drying off with an expensive teddy bear, she made every movement a demonstration of superslow motion. Starting at her neck, she dragged the towel down over her breasts, then plumped them up for no other reason than to torture the man. His hands went to the waistband of his shorts, then pushed them down and off. Palming his erection, he started to stroke it almost lazily, though his eyes burned with hunger. He raised an

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eyebrow as if to say, Now who’s being tortured? Touché. Not to be outdone, she moved lower over her flat belly and past her bare mound. Then Kat faced away from him and placed one foot on the small step leading to the tub. Making sure to bend at the waist, she pushed the towel down the length of her leg in one smooth motion. She felt air caress the lips of her sex where she was now wet for reasons other than the bath. “I didn’t know you had such a sadistic side to you, kitten.” “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said while pulling the towel up her other leg. “Come here,” he said, his voice deep and

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commanding. Not bothering to hide her smirk, she exited the open-concept bathroom. The soft pile of the carpet flowed up around the edges of her feet and between her toes. The floorto-ceiling windows took up the entire outer wall of the room. Luxurious and heavy drapes the color of wine reminded her of curtains framing the stage of an opera house. And considering she could see her reflection perfectly in the glass, she looked like a onewoman show. Kat briefly wondered if she would find a sticker in the corner that read “objects may appear sexier than they are” because the woman staring back at her seemed confident, alluring. The kind of woman who could bring a man to his knees, proverbial or otherwise.

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So let’s give it a shot. When she reached the bottom of the chaise, Irish dropped his feet to either side on the floor. Heat flushed between her legs at the sight of his erection jutting thick and proud from his body. She knew how smooth and hard it felt in her hands, her sex, and even her mouth. Remembering how much she enjoyed pleasuring him, she crawled up the chair. That’s when she noticed the bandage and was reminded of his wound. She’d seen it stitched up when he took a shower. “I’m still mad you didn’t let me help with that,” she said, frowning. “Does it hurt very badly?” He shrugged one muscular shoulder. “Nothing I’m not used to.” “Well, maybe I can help you forget about

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it.” “Oh, I guaran— Fuuuck.” Apparently he’d lost his train of thought when she dropped her head and licked the clear, sweet drop of pre-cum from the tip of his cock. Encouraged by his reaction and hiss of breath, she took him in her mouth as far down as possible. His hips jerked, and he ground out another curse. She loved hearing how she affected him. Every grunt, every curse, heightened her pleasure as though she were the one on the receiving end. Unfortunately, after only a few strokes, he stopped her and pulled her up. Kat didn’t bother to hide the pout at having her toy taken away. He chuckled. “As fantastic as that feels, I have other plans for tonight. And they don’t involve me coming in less than

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thirty seconds.” “You’ll recover in a minute or two,” she argued. “You’re extremely virile.” “Not that fucking virile.” With a sweeping move, he flipped them over, reversing their positions. “Now just let me lead, will ya?” Kat settled against the backrest and rolled her eyes. She was about to fire off a smartass remark when she felt his hot tongue between her legs. “Oh!” Opening wider, she wove her fingers in his hair and tried to remember to breathe. The angle of the chaise allowed her the perfect view of Irish as he made love to her with his mouth. He lapped at the wetness coating her lips, then probed her vagina with deep strokes.

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“I love the way you taste.” Replacing his tongue with a thick finger, he knelt up to hover over her. He swirled his finger deep inside her, then pulled it out and watched intently as he ran the tip over her bottom lip. “Like warm honey.” Slowly she ran her tongue from one side to the other. His pupils engulfed the deep blue irises and he groaned in approval before capturing her in a breathless kiss. Kat tasted herself as their tongues met in an erotic dance and she moaned her approval when his hand returned to her dripping sex. This time he penetrated her with two fingers, thrusting in and out, sometimes adding a twist that had her hips jackknifing off the couch. He added his thumb to her clit, and the tingling knot in the pit of her stomach

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started to spread outward. “Watch me, baby,” he whispered and gazed down at his hand. “Watch me make you come.” She whimpered as he eased a third finger in, stretching her to capacity. It felt so good, and the sight of his fingers sinking into her was such a huge turn-on. Everything in her tightened more and more as he fucked her. She expected a slow build, but what she got was a short fuse on a stick of dynamite. Her nipples tightened until they ached. Moans escaped with every exhale, her breasts rising and falling with the heaving of her chest. She fisted her hands at her sides. Just when she couldn’t take any more, he used the rough pad of his thumb to circle her sensitive clit.

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“Oh, God, I’m— I— Uhhhhhn!” Her orgasm rippled through every cell in her body. Back arched, her insides spasmed around his fingers as the rest of her flew somewhere high in the heavens for what seemed like hours. As she floated back to herself, Irish’s deep voice slipped through her post-orgasmic haze. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he mumbled while devouring her neck and shoulder. “Come on back to me. There’s more where that came from.” “If you’re trying to kill me, I approve of your methods,” she said. The soft sound of his deep chuckle spread over her like a warm Sherpa blanket. She wanted to burrow deep inside and never leave its soft cocoon. “I might try to fuck you

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into a deep sleep, but that’s about it.” Then he tipped her chin up with a finger and met her gaze with serious eyes. “There’s no life for me anymore without you, Kat. I’ll protect you until my very last breath. I swear it.” The intensity with which he spoke those words touched something deep in her heart she’d thought long dead. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t know how to verbalize all the things he made her feel. Especially coming down from an explosive orgasm while still pressed together in their naked forms. Brain functionality at the moment was minimal at best. She watched his hungry gaze roam over her from top to bottom. Taking a deep breath, he released it with a shake of his head. “You know, when I’m not with you I

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sometimes think my mind must be exaggerating how beautiful you are. That no one can be so flawless, so perfect.” “Irish, I’m not—” A finger pressed against her lips for a moment. “To me, you are,” he insisted. “It’s like you were made just for me. An angel plucked from my fantasies and given life. And somehow, when I wasn’t looking, you came to mean everything to me.” Her throat tightened with the emotions now welling in her eyes. Irish had saved her from a dark world where despair ruled, and patiently led her into a world of light and possibilities. And love. At least on her part it was. She might be too afraid to risk scaring him off with the L-

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word, but it didn’t change the fact. His arms wrapped around her and drew her in until their bodies were flush from chest to hips. Dipping his head, he claimed her lips in a tender kiss that took her breath away and left her reeling. It took her several seconds to open her eyes after he broke the kiss, but when she did she found herself looking up at her future. Black hair in need of a cut, heavy-lidded blue eyes complete with varying stages of bruising, full lips with a forever-healing cut on the bottom, and enough dark scruff on his jaw to give him an I-don’t-give-a-fuck image. And he was all hers. Screw it. She’d promised herself that she was done letting others dictate her actions and she didn’t want to go one more minute

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pretending she didn’t love him with all her heart. The possibility that Irish wasn’t ready to hear it, be damn— “I love you, kitten.” Her eyes blew wide. “What did you say?” “You heard me. I love you, Kat. More than my own life.” Stunned silent, Kat opened and closed her mouth several times like a fish out of water. To hear those words coming from anyone, much less the man she loved in return, overwhelmed her. She didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted the salty tears and Irish used his thumbs to wipe them from her cheeks. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it back,” he whispered. “I just needed you to know.” “But I do. I mean, I know I don’t have to

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say it back, but I want to because I do. I love you so damn much.” He smiled wide. Not the kind weighed down with the years of guilt and sadness he’d carried around. No, this smile was radiant and freeing and she planned on making it her personal goal in life to make sure he wore it as often as possible. Her man—her fighter—deserved nothing less. Throwing her arms around his neck, Kat kissed him with all the things she wanted to tell him. He met her with equal force, their tongues colliding and sliding over the other between their fused lips. His hands roamed in erratic patterns like a butterfly indecisive on which flower to land on. Finally he settled on her breasts. The rough skin of his masculine hands

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sent shivers through her as he dragged his palms over the tight peaks of her nipples. With an encouraging moan, she arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward like a decadent offering. One Irish wholeheartedly accepted. Using his fingers, he tortured one of her nipples while the other received it from his mouth. On one side pulling, tweaking, pinching, and rubbing. On the other licking, suckling, circling, and biting. Each action caused a reaction at her center like electric currents traveling in a circuit from her breasts to her clitoris. The result was the wetness coating the inside of her thighs. Finally, he gave her a reprieve and lifted his head. “Stand up, baby.” The command took a second to make it

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through the pleasure-induced fog clouding her brain. Irish rose and helped pull her up, then turned her to face away from him. She now stood next to the back of the chaise, which came up to her belly button. Sliding his hand down her right thigh, he said, “Place this foot up on the chair. Yeah, just like that.” The position opened her up, the cool air stirring against her wet sex. They’d never made love this way because, although she’d gotten much better, she still worried about not being able to look into his eyes if she felt that familiar pull from her subconscious. Twisting to the right, she looked over her shoulder. “Not that way,” he said, directing her chin to the left to face the window. “Look there.”

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The recessed lighting above them illuminated their reflections almost as perfectly as a mirror. She watched him grab a condom from the floor, tear it open, and smooth it down his thick erection. Holding her gaze in the window, Irish positioned himself directly behind her, his foot braced on the chair next to hers, and nestled his erection in the slick folds of her sex. With slow, short strokes, he rubbed her sensitive clit with the flared edge of his cock head, shooting arrows of desire straight to her core. Kat tried pulling forward an inch—just enough for him to slip inside—but he had a firm grip on her waist and held fast. “Please, Aiden,” she managed between breaths. “I need you.” “You want me inside you?”

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“So much.” Without hesitation, he positioned himself at her entrance and eased forward. Her inner walls were still swollen from her last orgasm, making her channel tighter and incredibly sensitive. She moaned, a shudder of desire rippling over her skin as she adjusted to his size. A mix between an exhale and a groan rumbled from his chest as he finally seated himself completely. She tipped her head back on his shoulder. He kissed and nipped at the spot below her ear. Wrapping his arms around her rib cage, he began an achingly slow retreat, then pressed back in to the hilt and whispered, “Being inside you feels like coming home.” Her melting heart warred for dominance

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with her quivering sex. Hugging his arms in front of her, Kat turned her head and found his mouth with hers. He kissed her with a sensuous reverence, worshipping her with his full lips in a soulful prayer. As the pace evened out, they broke apart and she bent at the waist to lie across the back of the chaise. She studied him in the window. Inked muscles bunched and flexed with every movement like living works of art. Head bent and focused on where their bodies joined, shaggy black hair hanging forward, his hips thrusting behind her, revealing glimpses of his hard shaft with every withdrawal. He was a perfect male specimen in every way. Kat’s breathing became shallow to match his. He continued to move slow and steady.

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Every nuance was felt, every sensation doubly intense. The rough fabric grated deliciously on her stomach, breasts, and nipples. Once again she started the climb to another climax, but just before she reached the crest, he pulled out, leaving her empty and aching. She protested with a pained whine, but he shushed her in soothing tones that promised the absence was only temporary. Then Irish dipped his fingers in her vagina and rubbed her juices onto her puckered rosette in a circular motion. She gasped and would have jumped ten feet in the air if he didn’t have her pinned between him and the chair. But despite the shock, she couldn’t deny the tiny thrill she got from him touching her in such an intimately taboo place. He repeated the process, this time adding

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a little more pressure with the pad of his thumb, causing a small whimper to escape her lips. Irish’s ghostly blue eyes peered at her in the window with a banked fire. “How about here, Kat? You want me inside you here?” She tensed. “I’m not sure,” she said honestly. It was one thing to enjoy a little assplay, but completely another to go all the way, wasn’t it? And yet… His left arm snaked under her ribs. It made a comfortable support between her and the back of the chaise while allowing him to knead and tease her right breast. Meanwhile his other hand was still creating magic with her pussy and anus. “You said your first time had been taken from you. But I can give you a different kind

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of first time. I can make it good for you.” Irish placed a sweet kiss at her temple as though punctuating his tender offer of sharing an experience that would be theirs forever. Something no one could ever take from her. “What do you say, sweetheart? Will you let me claim you like no one else has?” “Yes,” she replied softly. “I’m yours.” “Stay right like you are and let me take care of you.” He picked up a tube from the inconspicuous spot he’d gotten the condom earlier. “This’ll be a little cold at first.” She inhaled sharply when the cool gel hit her hot skin, but a second later all she focused on was how good his finger felt as he rubbed it on. She sensed the presence of an erotic arrow

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nocked on a bow string, ready to be pulled tight and released to shatter all previous notions of the ultimate pleasure. The anticipation and the carnal vibrations now singing in a part of her body previously untouched made her wet all over again. Using more of the lubrication, he placed the pad of his thumb against her puckered flesh…then pushed. She tensed at the intrusion, her body instinctively rejecting it. “Just relax, baby. It might feel uncomfortable at first, but it’ll pass,” he promised. “When I push in I want you to exhale and push out. Understand?” She nodded. He tried again, and this time she did as he instructed, allowing him as far as he could go. The duality of sensations, both strange

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and rousing, confused her body. Like it couldn’t decide between This isn’t my thing and Holy hell do that again. Kat held still and focused on breathing as Irish set a slow rhythm with his thumb, massaging more of the gel inside as he continued to open her with gentle tugs on her outer walls. At last, the pleasure overcame the foreign feeling and all she wanted was more. She tilted her hips up in a silent plea that evoked a growl of appreciation from her lover. “Damn, you look good like this, baby,” he rasped. “Can you feel how open you are for me? So vulnerable. So trusting. I’ve never been so hard in my life.” Ahv nevah been so hahd… God, what his accent did to her. It might not be cultured or

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sexy like the French or Italians, but it turned her on something fierce. As did the fact that she could indeed feel how open he’d made her. He could easily insert two fingers and scissor them inside her, the motion driving her crazy. “Then let me feel it,” she practically begged. He turned his face to the window and locked onto her with heat flaring in his eyes. “Make love to me, Aiden. Claim me.” “My pleasure.” He grabbed the base of his shaft, prepared to guide himself into her at last, when she stopped him. “I want you bare.” “Kat, we talked about this.” She straightened, bringing their bodies flush, and looked up at him over her left

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shoulder. Cupping his face with her hand, she offered a wry grin and said, “Unless I missed something in health class, there’s no way to conceive this way.” Unable to resist his mouth when it was so close to hers, she drew him down for a passionate kiss that stoked the embers until the flames of desire burned bright again. “Please,” she managed around the kisses. “I don’t want anything between us.” A deep sound rumbled in his chest and shimmied down her spine. “You’re killing me, you know that? Bend over.” She eagerly followed his command while he disposed of the condom and squeezed some lube into his palm. In the window, his reflection stroked his cock a few times to coat it with the gel before fisting it and

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stepping close behind her. He fitted the smooth head of his cock to her rear entrance and began to push. She bit down on her bottom lip as he stretched her hole. He was much bigger than two fingers and the slight burn had her holding her breath and wondering how in the hell he was going to fit. “Keep breathing, baby,” he encouraged softly. Kat exhaled, remembering he’d also told her to push out. He grunted as the flare of his cock head pushed past the tight ring, and he sunk in another inch. “That’s my girl.” As he continued the slow push forward, he reached around and rubbed her swollen clit. A rush of wetness broke free from where the tingling knot gathered strength in her belly.

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The fine line between pleasure and pain blurred until one no longer existed without the other. Finally, she felt his thighs flush against her ass. He’d filled her up completely, joined with her perfectly. Not just with her body, but with her heart and soul as well. She’d been broken until the day he interjected himself into her life. There would never be another man for her. She knew it as sure as she knew her name. He leaned over, blanketing her with his muscular torso, and spoke in a low voice next to her ear. “Now I’ve claimed you in every way possible. Only me, Kat. No one can take that from either of us. You’re mine, and I’m yours.” Reveling in his loving proclamation, her

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lids drifted shut. “Always,” she promised. Tears of utter happiness escaped beneath her lashes and transferred to him when she nuzzled his cheek, the soft scratching of his beard like hundreds of tiny fingers lighting over her skin. “Then open your eyes,” he whispered, “and watch me love you.”

… Aiden stood tall and withdrew slowly from the hot sheath of Kat’s ass. She let out a blissful mewl and tilted her hips, seeming to now crave what she previously feared. He palmed her cheeks and spread her apart, watching her swallow his bare cock. To see her welcome him like this, to feel her body grip him like a lover’s embrace, burned him

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up inside. Melted the last layers of ice around his heart. He set a slow and steady pace, sliding in and out with fluid strokes. Transcendent pleasure vibrated up his shaft and into his balls. Sweat from the effort it took not to come too soon covered every inch of him. The sounds of their lovemaking soothed his soul like no music ever could. Strained breathing, soft moans, feral grunts, and the whispers of flesh sliding on flesh. All of it perfect. She was perfect. Perfect for him. Reaching back, she covered his left hand with hers. “You feel so good. God, I’m close. So close.” Aiden knew that already. He could tell in

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the way her brows furrowed. The way she bit her lip and fisted her hands. The way she kept trying to manipulate his tempo to get him to go faster, harder. But he held her firm. They’d finish this the way they started. And they’d remember every stroke, every touch. Every moment. Again he leaned forward to hug her back with his chest, snaking his left arm beneath her and cupping her right shoulder. His other hand reached over her raised thigh and found her dripping sex with his fingers. Instantly, her swollen channel sucked at his two fingers. He felt his cock through the thin wall of tissue as he continued the easy back and forth motion with his hips while cradling her in his arms.

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Turning his head, he studied their reflection in the window. Standing where someone could see them gave the act an edge of exhibitionism. But he also felt a little like a voyeur. As though he were watching another couple making love. There was still a small part of him that didn’t believe he could ever be so fortunate. “I love you so much, Aiden.” Except there was that. It was his name on her lips. Kat knew exactly who he was, and she still dared to love him. She was stronger than she knew. Stronger than even him. Tears fell from the corners of her eyes and her voice sounded watery with emotion. He held her tighter. Moved a hair faster. A touch harder. His actions intensifying as his love

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did the same. “Feel how much I love you, Kat.” He watched her reach out to their mirrored images. She trailed her fingers lightly down the side of his face, across his jawline, and over his lips. He swore he felt the gentle touch as though his reflection and he were tangibly connected. Moisture gathered in his eyes, causing his vision to blur. Blinking it back, he spoke in a voice gruff with emotion. “Come with me, baby.” He had about half a dozen thrusts before he lost control of his own climax. His balls drew up tight and fire gathered in the base of his spine. He glanced his fingers over her engorged bud, already so sensitive, and felt her come undone in his arms.

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She cried his name as her orgasm took her, and his body followed her into the ether, where desire consumed them in wave after wave, and he emptied himself into her for the second time in as many hours. An eternity of seconds passed before he had the energy to move, but he finally kissed her shoulder and raised himself up. Her breaths were deep and even, her eyes closed peacefully. With little effort, he cradled her in his arms and carried her to the four-poster California king bed. After cleaning her gently with a warm cloth, he pulled the silky sheet over her and slid in beside her. Instinctively, she curled around him, tucking her head into the place between his shoulder and chest that cradled her perfectly. Then, holding her close, he placed a last kiss

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on her forehead and drifted off to sleep, hoping he’d get to do it all over again in his dreams.

Chapter Twenty Wearing her outfit from yesterday—minus the undies that were somewhere in pieces in Xander’s car—Kat followed the heavenly scent of salty bacon and sugary syrup through the main lobby. As exhausted as she was from the night of lovemaking Irish had treated her to, her stomach woke her up bright and early, demanding its own satiation.

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She’d opened her eyes to the beautiful colors of his tattooed arms wrapped firmly around her and exhaled in contentment. Never had she felt so safe, so loved than in the arms of a fighter. She’d almost woken him to ask if he’d like to join her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Life had etched itself on his face, often causing him to appear older than his thirty-odd years. But sleep seemed to bring him peace and his features softened. For as rugged as he was, Irish was equally beautiful. Kat choked back a laugh. She was pretty sure he’d put her in a headlock for even thinking it, so she’d keep that little nugget of opinion to herself. No reason to emasculate the man. At last, she found breakfast heaven. A

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buffet line overflowed with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, fruit, and at least a dozen other items that made her mouth water and stomach growl. She placed her hands over her middle to muffle the sound and walked to the start of the line. She’d eat quickly and then load a plate to take up to her Sleeping Beauty. Twenty minutes later, she sat back in her chair with an inward groan. Her eyes had been bigger than her stomach, but it somehow found room for the eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and the biggest damn waffle she’d ever seen. Which she’d proudly made herself in the gigantic waffle-ironflipper-thing. Glancing down her body, Kat smoothed her hands over her full belly. “Damn, I’ve got

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a food baby in there.” She let out a soft gasp. Baby…I could be pregnant. “With Irish’s baby,” she whispered as the thought lifted the corners of her mouth. She’d never wanted children before. Never wanted to bring them into the life she led. Children deserved a stable home with parents who loved them. She knew she would—unconditionally—and do whatever it took to keep them safe, but she never imagined being with anyone who would feel the same. But Irish would. He’d protect and love his children with the ferocity of a lion. Kat stood, anxious to get back to their room and the man she wanted to be with, always. She’d bring him up a tray of food and let him eat before attacking his sexy, naked

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body. Maybe she’d even hide the condoms. The more she thought about it, the more she warmed to the idea of having his baby. With a sly grin, she made her way to the juice counter and poured a large glass of cranberry juice for him. She used to cringe at the smell, knowing how tart it tasted, but now it made her think of how it tasted on him and caused her to salivate. Yummy Cran-Irish. “Here,” a man said, “let me help you with that so you don’t spill.” “Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ve got—” Shit! The helpful gentleman who took the glass from her was a smiling Vinnie. He sipped the juice and made a face. “I’m more of an apple juice fan myself.” Are you waiting for a fucking invitation,

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Katherine? Get the hell out of here! Go, girl, GO! Heeding her subconscious, Kat spun on her booted heel to make a run for it, but Sully blocked her path. His smile was all teeth and no warmth as he held out the side of his suit coat just enough for her to see the holstered gun under his arm. Her mouth dried up and the room felt like it was closing in on her. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go for a little walk,” Sully said with a jerk of his chin toward the elevators. “And don’t get any ideas that’ll get your boyfriend up there killed.” Vinnie grabbed her upper arm, his meaty fingers bruising her for sure as he steered her through the hotel. “Any commotion from you is the signal

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to cut our losses with him and split with you.” Oh God oh God oh God, what now? Kat gave herself a mental slap. She had to remain calm, keep a clear head if she was going to figure a way out of this. The elevator opened and they stepped into the car. Sully swiped a key card and punched the button for the penthouse level as the doors slid shut on the polished tile and chandeliers of the lobby. “I cut the tracker out of my arm.” Sully glanced at the bandage on her arm. “Yeah, we figured that out. You got guts, I’ll give you that. Vinnie passes out when he gets cut.” “Hey, Sul, why doncha blow me? I told you my blood sugar was low that day.”

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Kat ignored Sully’s chuckling and Vinnie’s belly-aching and talked over them. “So then how did you find us?” The laughter died and the men got serious again. Sully looked insulted. “We’re not small-time thugs, princess. Once we found your car nose-first in a swamp we had a BOLO out on his motorcycle and his buddy’s car. And with Sicoli’s PD connections in every Southern state, it didn’t take us long to get word on your location.” Damn it. They should have kept driving last night. Drove until they reached Mexico and never looked back. But just because she left the country didn’t mean Sicoli would stop searching for her. She didn’t know much about him except that he was dangerous and extremely prideful. He’d never stop

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sending people after her. He had the funds to do it and by now it wasn’t only principle, but it was personal. The longer she evaded him, the worse she made him look. Kat finally realized this would never be over. Not until Sicoli was satisfied that the debt owed him was paid in full. And that wasn’t Irish’s problem. It never had been. Still, she’d allowed him to insert himself in the middle of her mess and now he might end up paying with his life. She couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t. Before she knew it, the elevator granted them access to the penthouse and she was once again being ushered toward her room. Strange how fast things changed. Only a few minutes ago she’d been anxious to get here. Now she’d do anything to never reach that

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door. Digging the heels of her boots into the carpet, she brought them up short. “Listen, guys, I’ll make you a deal. If you take me to Sicoli right now, I swear I’ll come quietly. I won’t fight you, and I won’t try to escape. Deal?” The men gave each other sidelong glances, then Sully spoke. “Let me get this straight. You actually want us to take you to Sicoli now?” She nodded emphatically. “Yes. But only if you leave Irish out of this from now on. I don’t want him involved anymore.” “Well, then, I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news,” Sully said. “The good news is we’ll take you to Sicoli.” Relief trickled through her just as a sense

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of dread began worming its way to her stomach. “The bad news is,” Vinnie finished as his partner used the key card to open the door to her room, “we’ve already involved your boy some more.” Sully entered first. His tall frame prevented her from seeing anything until the door slammed shut behind her and he moved off to the side. “Oh my God, what have you bastards done to him?” She tried lunging for Irish but the men held her back while she struggled to break free. Irish sat on the bed, his body slumped forward as much as his outstretched arms allowed with his wrists cuffed to the bed posts. His bare torso was covered in red where it

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was obvious he’d been beaten—drenched in sweat and marked with bleeding cuts. She knew that whatever they’d done he’d fought them the whole way. It’s who he was. He was a fighter. Her fighter. My fighting Irish. He lifted his head from his chest and her breath left her. His right eye was swollen shut and his lower lip had been split open again. A torn piece of the bedsheet worked as a gag. It was more than she could stand. “Let me go!” “It’s all right, boys.” She heard the third voice come from the corner of the room, but she didn’t spare it a thought. The moment she felt her freedom she raced across the room and leapt onto the bed. Irish hissed from the jostling. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered, gingerly

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crawling the rest of the way to him. Kneeling before him, she pulled the gag from his mouth and held his face in her hands. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry.” “Did either of those motherfuckers touch you?” His voice was hoarse but no less deadly. The animal he claimed lived inside of him was starting to surface. Muscles bunched and released and he looked ready to walk through hell if he had to. “No, I’m fine.” Every cut, every drop of blood, every bruise they’d given him was because of her, and still the man’s first concern was if she’d been harmed. It was too much. Tears fell unbidden, blurring her vision and frustrating the hell out of her. As terrible as he looked, she didn’t want anything preventing her from seeing him clearly. “God, look

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what they’ve done to you.” “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I feel much worse than I look. No, wait.” His brow furrowed in concentration before he added, “I mean I look much worse than I feel.” Something between a sob and a laugh burst from her as she smoothed back the sweat-plastered hair from his forehead. “Now I know you’re hurt bad. You can’t even be sarcastic right.” “Nah. I’m golden,” he said with a weak grin. “Just so long as I know you’re okay.” Holding his face, Kat pressed her lips to his. She couldn’t help it. She was desperate for the connection and to reassure him of her love. It probably hurt his cut, but he leaned into the kiss anyway, seemingly just as desperate.

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“All right,” she heard from behind her. “That’s enough. It’s time to get down to business.” Looking over her shoulder, Kat found the unidentified third man sitting in the wingback chair in front of the desk. Dressed in a charcoal gray suit with red tie, he sat with one ankle resting on the other knee and hands steepled in front of him. He looked like a therapist listening to a patient as opposed to what he really was, someone who’d obviously at the very least watched a man get handcuffed and beaten. “Who the hell are you?” A deceptively charming smile spread over his face. “I’m the man who is here to make sure your debt is collected and the hassles you’ve caused are well compensated for.”

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Kat was so sick of hearing about the debt she supposedly owed to some asshole wannabe Godfather. Sick of dealing with the hired thugs he kept sending after her to make her life a living goddamn hell. It was bad enough when they’d threatened her pathetic existence back in Tennessee. But now she had a man who made her life a fairy tale in comparison to what it was before. Someone to live for and love. And she’d be damned if she was going to let them take it away from her without a fight. Climbing off the bed, she stood with fists on her hips. “And what makes you think you’ll do any better than those two?” “Because, my dear, I’ve decided to subscribe to the old saying, ‘If you want something done right, you have to do it

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yourself.’” Chills raced over her scalp and down her spine as her arms fell limp by her sides. The proverbial monster had stepped out of the closet. “Antony Sicoli,” she whispered. “The one and only.”

… Aiden vibrated with fury. He’d been careless and now Kat was in the middle of an extremely volatile situation. All he had to do was keep her safe until he could figure out how to put an end to everything. But he hadn’t even been able to do that. He’d let how he felt for her cloud his judgment. Maybe alcohol hadn’t been his problem all those years ago with Janey. Maybe he just didn’t have the ability to think clearly when

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his emotions were involved. How fucking ironic was that? The more he cared for someone, the less he kept her safe. But when it came down to it, the reason why didn’t matter. All that mattered was that people close to him always got hurt. And this was no exception. Sicoli hadn’t yet divulged his plans—he’d been a little preoccupied with beating the living shit out of him—but Aiden had a pretty good idea of some possibilities. And none of them were good. When he’d woken up to Sully and Vinnie cuffing and gagging him, he’d been so relieved that Kat hadn’t been in the room. He’d had hope that she’d stay gone long enough for Sicoli and his goons to make their threats or do to him whatever they had planned and

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then leave before she returned. But then Sicoli ordered his men to go find her and, for the first time, Aiden prayed like hell that Kat had finally gotten smart enough to leave him. That she’d taken the keys to the Nova and skipped out on him and never looked back. Unfortunately for her, she’d only gone down for some breakfast. And here he was, failing to do the only thing he’d wanted to do since he’d discovered Kat was in trouble: protect her. Kat took a step forward, placing herself between Aiden and Sicoli. “Listen, I’ll pay you back however I have to, but you have to leave him out of it. He has nothing to do with any of this.” “The hell I don’t,” Aiden ground out. “I’m

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the one who fucked up the new agreement, Sicoli. Consider her debt and whatever else as mine now and cut her loose. She’s not gonna make you the kind of money I can.” “Oh, don’t be so sure of that, my friend.” Sicoli’s gaze slid over Kat’s body like a wolf admiring a lame sheep. “I could make quite a deal of money on her with the right customer.” The chains on the cuffs rattled as he yanked on them until he felt the metal bite into his flesh and the trickling of warm blood on his forearms. Glaring at him with his one good eye, Aiden promised, “Over my dead body, asshole.” “Yes. It will be,” the man agreed. “Because I’m giving you one more chance to make me a shitload of money, O’Brien. You fuck up

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again and not only will I kill you, but I’ll be forced to use your girlfriend to settle the debt for both of you.” Aiden watched Kat pale even as she squared her shoulders and faced the demon threatening to send her into her worst nightmares. “Then why wait when you can skip all that and go for the sure bet? Take me and end this fucking thing already.” “Kat! Shut the hell up!” She swung her gaze to him, her blue eyes swimming in the tears he knew she prayed wouldn’t fall. He hated yelling at her, but if Sicoli took her up on her offer, she’d be lost forever. He’d have no way of finding her. No way of saving her. “This was never your fight,” she said to him. “I can’t let you risk your life for me

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anymore. I love you too much.” Behind her, Sicoli got to his feet and crossed to the foot of the bed. “This is touching and all, but you’re both forgetting that I’m the one making the rules here. So this is how it’s going to work.” Sicoli gave a signal with his hand. Sully drew near with a roll of duct tape while Vinnie grabbed Kat by the arms and hauled her away from the bed. Shit was about to get real and he had no idea how to stop it. “You’re going to fight the championship fight in the Four by Four on Saturday. This time you will go down in the third round. And to make sure you do, I’ll be holding on to the girl until it’s over.” “Don’t worry, Irish,” Vinnie sneered as he dragged a meaty paw down Kat’s neck to her

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breast and gave it a hard squeeze. “I’ll take good care of her for you.” Kat elbowed Vinnie in the solar plexus then back-fisted his face when he instinctively hunched forward, just like Aiden had taught her in the barn that day. Before Vinnie knew what hit him, he’d had the breath knocked out of him and a swollen lip. Unfortunately the hit hadn’t been hard enough to incapacitate him. He recovered from the shock quickly and backhanded her across the face, knocking her to the floor. Aiden saw red and struggled against his restraints as he roared with an all-consuming rage. “You motherfucker, I’m gonna—” Before he could describe his plans to choke Vinnie with his own intestines, Sully landed a cross-punch that damn near

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snapped Aiden’s head off. He heard Kat scream his name and beg them not to hurt him anymore as the pain lanced through his skull and the coppery tang of blood flooded his mouth. He’d just barely spit it out when Sully slapped a length of tape across his lips. Aiden felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. The beast inside him raged. His nostrils flared and his chest heaved with rapid breathing. If it wasn’t for the metal cuffs restraining him, he’d have torn each of them limb from limb for making Kat cry, much less trying to take her away. As Vinnie yanked her back to her feet, Sicoli adjusted his shirt cuffs under his suit and doled out parting instructions. “If I were you, O’Brien, I’d focus on what you need to do this weekend in the fight. You do that,

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and all this will be over. I’ll take my money and my associates and neither of you will ever have to see me again.” Placing his fists on the mattress, Sicoli leaned in, staying just far enough away that Aiden couldn’t head-butt him into next week. Cold gray eyes revealed the black soul of a man who viewed others as pawns he could use and manipulate to his advantage. “You even think of double-crossing me and I’ll toss that bitch to the wolves until there’s nothing left of her. Understood?” Aiden gave the barest hint of a nod. “Good,” he said with a couple of pats on Aiden’s cheek. “Then I’ll see you Saturday. The key to the cuffs is on the desk. Housekeeping will make their rounds in a couple of hours.” Sicoli turned and signaled to the other

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men. As they prepared to leave the room, Kat tried desperately to keep eye contact with him. She apologized to him over and over as she cried. He cursed the tape over his mouth that prevented him from telling her it was going to be okay. That he would save her. But all he could do was watch as they took her away from him. It took three hours before a woman from housekeeping entered the room. Thankfully she didn’t scare easily. Instead of running screaming from the room as he’d expected, she muttered a few choice words in another language and rushed to help him. Once he was free, he hurriedly dressed—which wasn’t easy, since his arms were numb—and grabbed his wallet and keys from the room safe. He took out two

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hundred dollars and gave it to the maid for her help and her discretion, then gathered the rest of their things and prepared to hightail it out of there. But before he could start the drive back to Alabaster, there was one thing he had to do. Picking up the phone, he dialed a number and held his breath while it rang. After four rings, he was about to give up when a voice as familiar as his own came over the line. “Patterson.” Aiden’s throat constricted, making it hard to answer. “Hello? Anyone there?” He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Hey, Joey. It’s uh—” “Jesus Christ,” he cut in. “Aid? That you?” Aiden peered over his shoulder. He was uncomfortable enough making the call; he

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didn’t need an audience to add to it. But the maid was busy stripping the bed of bloody sheets while humming to herself. “Yeah, it’s me.” “It’s been, what, five years? You were wicked good at dodging me. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.” He tensed his jaw and immediately regretted it when a sharp pain struck him like another punch. Between his injuries and talking to his ex–best friend, Aiden needed some Vicodin and a Glenlivet. “I know. I was a huge coward. Believe me, you couldn’t have done or said anything to punish me more than I did myself,” he said, gazing out the window. “But I still shouldn’t have denied you the opportunity to try. It’s your right.” “You’re such a fucking asshole, you know

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that?” Finally, the anger Aiden expected had seeped into Joey’s voice. “You think I don’t know that what happened to Janey was an accident? You loved her like a sister. You woulda never hurt her on purpose.” Aiden frowned. “So then why all the attempts at getting ahold of me?” “Because I’d just lost my sister, and I needed to grieve with my best friend, you selfish fucking prick. I needed you, but all you could think about was yourself and your guilt.” Holy shit. Aiden reeled. Joey was right. He’d been a selfish coward, only thinking of himself—his guilt, his pain—when he should have been concerned for the man who was like his brother. Regret stung the backs of his eyes.

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Pressing his thumb and forefinger against his closed lids, he strained to get his words past the lump in his throat. “Joey, I’m…I’m so goddamn sorry, man. You’re right and I don’t deserve it, but I hope that someday you can forgive me.” A sigh came through the receiver. “I forgave you forever ago, Aid. You just never gave me the chance to tell you.” Aiden felt like he’d finally broken free of the steel band that had been slowly squeezing the life out of him since the night of Janey’s death. He took a deep, cleansing breath for the first time in forever and vowed to himself to be a better man going forward. “Thanks, man. I’m gonna make it up to you, I swear.” “Fuck that shit,” Joey said. “I don’t need

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you to bake me cookies or wax my car. I just want my brother back, you feel me?” “Yeah,” he answered, relieved. “I feel you.” “Good. Now how ’bout I meet you at Paddy’s for a beer?” “I’m not in Boston, Joey. I’m in Louisiana,” he said, staring at Kat’s purse. “And I need your help.”

Chapter Twenty-One The week had passed at an agonizing crawl. Aiden had barely slept and spent most of his time training in the barn. He took out his aggression on Xan and Johnny and the punching bag until they’d all given up, the guys verbally and the bag physically when it broke under his constant abuse. Though his friends tried to keep him calm and stop him from thinking the worst, he

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couldn’t help but picture Vinnie with his fucking hands on Kat, bringing her worst nightmares to the surface all over again. He’d never prayed so hard in his life, but he was willing to try anything to keep her as safe as possible until he could hold her in his arms again. An hour ago, he’d listened to Joey go over things one last time on how they planned to take Sicoli down and rescue Kat. Joey had pulled him aside back at the house and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Remember, your job is to look like you’re keeping the deal. If she’s not with Sicoli in the arena, she won’t be far. He’ll want her close by in case things don’t go his way. She’s his leverage.” Though he believed in his friend and the plan sounded solid, Aiden had a hundred

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different things that could go wrong running through his mind. “We’re gonna get her back, Aid, I promise you.” “Yeah, but what condition will she be in when we do? They’ve had an entire week to do God knows what to her.” “You love her?” Aiden nodded. “So hard it scares me.” “Then you’ll get her through whatever she needs to do to help her heal. Just like you did before.” Aiden narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t gone into detail with Joey about his relationship with Kat. He hadn’t wanted to talk about her while she was being held captive because it only made him more volatile. “How do you know what I did before?” he’d asked

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skeptically. “Because Xan has a big mouth,” Joey answered with a smirk. “Come on, it’s showtime.” Now Aiden paced in the dressing room at the arena, taped and ready, waiting to be called out for the fight. Xander sat in the corner spinning a role of tape on his finger and bouncing his leg up and down at nerveracking speeds. Time was moving so slowly it might as well be going backward. When the door opened, he expected it to be someone to lead him out to the arena for the fight. Instead, he stared into the steel-gray eyes of the man he’d fantasized about killing a dozen different ways. “What the fuck do you want, Sicoli?”

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Dressed down in a pair of suit pants and a polo shirt, he still managed to look like a million bucks. He tsked in faux disappointment as he slid his hands into his pockets. “Such hostility, O’Brien. I’d think you’d be in a better mood considering this entire mess will be over within the hour.” “That’s what you get for thinking,” Aiden said as he pushed each of his fists into the other palm to crack his knuckles. Sicoli smiled, not fazed in the least by the snide remark. “I suppose you’re right. I just came by to tell you good luck.” “Where’s Kat?” he demanded. “Sully is watching her for now. You worry about your performance and I’ll worry about the girl.” He turned and opened the door, but before walking through it, he paused. “Oh,

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one more thing. There’s been a change on tonight’s card. Seems your original opponent broke his leg and couldn’t compete.” No doubt he lost a fight with a crowbar. Aiden crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that so. And who have they found to replace him?” “As luck would have it, Vinnie happens to be a trained MMA fighter. But don’t worry, he probably isn’t all that good, since he never made it to the professional circuit like you.” Sicoli grinned from ear to ear. “Then again, that doesn’t really matter, since we all know how the fight will end. Right, O’Brien?” Aiden clenched his teeth and his muscles clamped down around his bones. The animal inside howled his desire to attack, to shred the man from limb to limb. Sicoli was strong,

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but he was a street fighter, nothing more. Aiden could have him in a rear naked choke in seconds, then squeeze like an anaconda until his windpipe crushed under the pressure. But he had to keep his inner beast caged. Going vigilante wouldn’t do anything but stick him with a murder rap. He refused to give in to his temper and let the bastard win. The last time he lost his shit, Janey ended up losing her life. This time, he’d let Joey do things by the book. “Right, Sicoli.” “Then I’ll see you after the fight.” And with that, the crime boss left the room with a toosatisfied smile. Xan clapped a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, then helped Aiden into his

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gloves. “Don’t let him get to you, mate. We’ve got the upper hand. You’ll have Kat back before you know it and that wanker will be behind bars.” He shoved his mouth guard in and said, “Let’s do this.” During the entire walk down the hall and into the arena full of cheering fans, all Aiden thought about was getting Kat back. He searched the crowd as he made his way down the aisle, but with everyone jumping up and down, it was impossible to see anyone in particular. As soon as the ref finished rubbing Vaseline on him and cleared him for fighting, he ran into the ring and immediately turned his attention to the audience. Scanning the sea of people, he found Sicoli sitting in the

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front row on the opposite side of the cage, where Vinnie would be cornered. But Kat wasn’t with him. Sicoli grinned like a fucking fox. He knew Aiden wanted to see her. The bastard enjoyed keeping him on the edge, holding her safety over his head. Rage boiled in his blood and hatred fueled his adrenaline pumping through his body. Holding eye contact with Sicoli, he started to bounce from side to side and shake his arms out, trying to stay loose for the coming battle. Vinnie was announced as the replacement fighter, which most everyone booed. Being an underground tournament meant that things didn’t always happen by the book, but apparently bringing in a totally new fighter instead of bringing up one of the others from

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earlier rounds wasn’t appreciated. Unfortunately, that all worked to Sicoli’s advantage. The more people who bet on Aiden to win, the more money he’d make when Aiden actually lost. As Vinnie entered the cage, Aiden had to hold himself back from launching into a ground-and-pound on the bastard’s face. All he could think about was the way he’d touched Kat in the hotel room and what he might have had the opportunity to do to her all week long. The ref called them to the center of the mat. As the ref started running through the rules, Vinnie took his mouth guard out and leaned in with a sneer. “I want you to know, I enjoyed the hell out of your redheaded bitch. I like it when they’re helpless.”

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The comment was like clamping jumper cables to Aiden’s high-voltage battery. Sparks lit up his muscles as his right fist connected with Vinnie’s cheek. The ref stepped in, pushing Aiden back and reprimanding him for not waiting for his mark. Vinnie had been knocked back a few steps, but he righted himself without problem and smiled as he replaced his mouth guard. At last, the fight officially started, but even though Aiden finally had the okay to hit the asshole, he couldn’t go balls-to-the-wall. Instead he had to leave himself open for hits and pull his punches, but not enough that the crowd would think he was losing. He never realized how difficult it would be to throw a fight. There was a delicate line he had to walk, and it was almost more taxing

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to do that than it was actually fighting. The first round was pretty even, with both fighters remaining on their feet. The second round had a mix of stand-up and some grappling. Vinnie surprised Aiden with his skills in jujitsu. He’d assumed the thug didn’t know much, since he’d gotten the arm bar drop on him in Kat’s apartment. But then again, the guy had no idea who Aiden was at the time and wouldn’t have been expecting someone to try something like that. By the end of round two, both of them had given each other plenty of injuries. Vinnie was sporting a swollen eye with a cut on his cheekbone from Aiden throwing an elbow when he had him pinned on the ground. Aiden had a cut above his right eyebrow from trying to duck one of Vinnie’s hooks

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that kept dripping into his eye. That wasn’t including the red rib cages and lower backs on both of them that would become bruises later from continuous body shots. During the short break, neither fighter had a corner man to come in and ice them down, offer water, or stop the bleeding. Sully, the only other person in Sicoli’s party, had the unfortunate job of holding Kat hostage. And Xander and Joey were hopefully in the process of finding and rescuing her. The bell rang and the ref called them back to the center. This was it. The last round. If his boys couldn’t find Kat before the end, he’d have to take the fall so her life wasn’t at risk. Joey had tried to reassure him that Sicoli wouldn’t kill Kat because of her worth to him in his sex-trafficking business. But

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Aiden had seen Sicoli’s temper that morning when the man took his frustrations out on his body before they brought Kat in. If Aiden didn’t deliver, he wouldn’t put it past him to fly off the handle and give Sully kill orders. And there was no way in hell he was gambling with Kat’s life. The ref gave them the signal and the clock started counting down from five minutes. Five minutes he had to allow the man who molested Kat to kick the shit out of him. Five minutes that would determine whether the trust he’d put in Joey paid off or only placed Kat in further danger. Aiden threw the occasional halfhearted punch, but mainly left his guard down and took the hits Vinnie gave him, which were no love taps. The man had an arm like a cannon.

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Luckily, Aiden didn’t have a “glass jaw” and could take a hell of a lot without going down. The crowd didn’t hesitate to announce their displeasure in the turn the fight had taken. Boos and angry shouts echoed in Aiden’s ears so loudly he couldn’t even hear Vinnie’s taunts anymore. Aiden glanced at the clock. Panic struck him the same time as Vinnie’s fist connected with his ribs. White-hot pain lanced through his side as he collapsed to the mat. The booing grew louder as Vinnie started showboating with his arms in the air as though he’d already won. Aiden double-checked the clock and confirmed his earlier fear: time was running out. Less than a minute remained of the fight. But he couldn’t give up yet. He needed to give Joey as much time as possible.

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Aiden got his footing before slowly unfolding himself while holding his left side. He was certain he had a few cracked ribs. It hurt just to breathe, much less move. But he couldn’t focus on the pain. He had more important things to worry about. Stepping closer to Vinnie, Aiden brought his fists up in front of his face, silently telling his opponent he was ready for more. Vinnie growled, obviously pissed he hadn’t been named the winner by now. Too fucking bad, asshole. I’m not going down for you yet. Fueled by anger, Vinnie threw punch after punch, forcing Aiden backward until he was stopped by the cage. Vinnie leaned into him and tried grabbing him in a way that he could slam Aiden down on the mat. Vinnie had the brute strength to do it, but Aiden

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was taller and was able to keep his center of gravity where he needed it to make the takedown difficult as hell. So while Vinnie continued to soften Aiden with body shots to try and take him to the mat, Aiden just held his ground and watched the clock tick down with a sick feeling in his gut. Thirty seconds… He should have turned the bayou upside down and looked for Kat. Twenty-five seconds… He should have snapped Sicoli’s neck in his dressing room and then searched for her. Twenty seconds… Her fate—whether it was slavery or death—was on his hands. Tears sprung to his eyes.

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Fifteen seconds… He loved her…and he’d failed her… Through the din of the crowd, he could almost hear her crying his name. His real name. Vinnie threw a cross punch to the face, knocking his head to the side…and that’s when he saw her running down the aisle and, yes, screaming his name. “Aiden!” He blinked hard several times, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating. When he noticed Xander and Joey running behind her, he realized it was no trick. She was safe. With the renewed strength of ten men, Aiden shoved Vinnie away from him as the clock ticked on nine seconds. Aiden pulled his right arm back, fueled by all his feelings

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of hate for men like Sicoli and his thugs who did nothing but spread their evil through drugs and abuse of power, then rocketed his fist toward Vinnie’s jaw. BAM! Aiden felt bone shatter beneath his knuckles and watched Vinnie’s eyes roll into the back of his head before he bounced off the fence and landed on his face. When he didn’t move a single muscle, the ref called the fight with two seconds left on the clock. The crowd went ballistic, but Aiden was too concerned with a certain crime boss who was now pushing his way to the back of the arena. “Joey!” he called while pointing in the direction Sicoli had fled. “That way!” Joey nodded, tossed a pair of cuffs over

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the top of the octagon, and took off after him as Xander ran back from the way they came, probably hoping he could cut Sicoli off from another way. Aiden turned back to Vinnie, who was getting help from the ref to sit up as he regained consciousness. Aiden brushed the ref to the side and said, “Thanks, but I got this.” He hauled Vinnie’s ass over to the fence. Taking advantage of his dazed state, Aiden cuffed one of his wrists, then passed the other through the links of the cage and back to slap on the other wrist. “There,” he said, as he thought of what horrendous things he could have done to the woman he loved. “Now who’s helpless, motherfucker?” Again, Aiden pulled his arm back, ready to

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pummel the last breath from his body. “Aiden!” He froze except to turn his head toward the voice that was like a balm on his broken soul. She had dirt on her dress and yellowing bruises on her arms. Her eyes were shadowed with dark circles and her hair was disheveled. But even so, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Vinnie coughed as he laughed, bringing Aiden’s attention back to him. “What’s so fucking funny?” “Irony.” Breathing heavily, the man glared at him with one eye and said, “I know your story, Irish. You may have saved her today…but you’ll be the one to hurt her eventually. Just like that poor girl back in Boston.”

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For a split second, his old fears sparked inside him. Aiden looked over at Kat, who stood with her arms crossed over herself as though trying to offer herself comfort. His heart swelled and for once, the animal inside him was more concerned with protecting and loving her than it was avenging her. Lowering his fist, Aiden said, “Have fun in prison, asshole. Make sure you hang on to that soap.” He had a moment of satisfaction when Vinnie’s eyes blew wide with fear, then he rose and strode toward the woman he loved more than life. She launched herself into his open arms, and he wrapped her up as tight as he could without crushing her. Her body trembled against his, and all he wanted to do was get her away from the madness surrounding

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them. Hooking an arm under her legs, he held her close and made his way out of the cage, through the crowd, to the back. As soon as they passed through the double doors to the hallway, he saw Joey and Xander walking toward him with a handcuffed, dirty Sicoli. “You got him,” Aiden said for Kat’s benefit. “It’s finally over.” “Aye, we tackled the bastard in the parking lot,” Xan boasted. Kat had kept her face tucked into his neck, but now she lifted her head to look at the man who’d terrorized her for months. Joey had a grip on Sicoli’s arm and yanked him to a stop as Aiden approached. Joey gave Kat a sympathetic look and said, “He won’t be able to hurt you or anyone else

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now.” Tightening her arms around Aiden’s neck, she asked, “How long before he gets out?” “He’s not getting out, sweetheart.” Aiden threw daggers with his eyes at Sicoli. “Joey, here, is with the FBI now and he’s taking him in. Turns out he’s wanted for racketeering and sex trafficking in the state of New York.” “Among other things, which is why he’s been hiding in the Tennessee mountains for the last decade,” Joey said. “He’ll spend the rest of his life in prison, Kat, I promise you.” She nodded and laid her head down on Aiden’s shoulder again. She looked boneweary. He needed to get her home, but first he needed to know she was okay. Giving the guys a nod of thanks, Aiden took her into the dressing room and locked the door before

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carrying her over to the couch, where he cradled her in his lap. Stroking her hair, he steeled himself for the answers to the questions he had to ask her. “What happened when they had you, sweetheart? Did they… Did Vinnie…” Godammit, he couldn’t even say it. She leaned back and stared up at him, her blue topaz eyes like fathomless pools. “No, Sicoli didn’t want ‘damaged goods,’” she said softly. “He wouldn’t let them touch me.” Aiden heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Christ,” he whispered as he pulled her into a tight embrace. He blinked back the tears that came from holding her in his arms again. “I can’t believe it’s finally over.” “Believe it, kitten,” he said, gruff with emotion. “And I’m not gonna let anyone hurt

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you ever again, I swear it.” She maneuvered herself until she sat astride his lap and held his swollen, bloody face in her delicate hands. “Does that mean you’ll stop fighting me? That I can keep you without having to worry you’re going to push me away ‘for my own good’?” “I’ve come to realize you’re a tough opponent, so I’m tapping out.” Aiden smiled, cracking the dried blood on his face. “I’m yours for as long as you want me, kitten.” “Good. Because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t intend on ever losing you. I love you, Aiden.” “Ah, sweetheart, I love you, too,” he whispered against her lips. “So fucking much.” Unable to hold back any longer, he

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captured her lips and kissed her for all he was worth. Breaking the kiss, Kat stood up. “Come on. I want to go home.” As she crossed the room, it hit Aiden that he’d come so close to never seeing her again. Never having the chance to watch her take command of a room full of drunken hillbillies or make love to her as she gazed into his eyes and touched his soul. A short time ago, his life had been dull and monotonous, and he’d had no intentions of changing it. Now he couldn’t imagine life without her in it. She brought him joy and spontaneity. And, miraculously, love. With a hand on the doorknob, she turned and tilted her head with a curious look on her face. Then she asked him a simple

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question that held a lot of weight. “You with me, Irish?” Aiden grabbed his duffel in one hand and met her at the door. He kissed her then answered honestly. “Yeah, kitten. I’m with you.” She smiled, entwined her hand in his, and they walked toward the parking lot and their new life…together.

Chapter Twenty-Two Vanessa was right. Kat loved Hawaii. She’d never been a fan of the busy city life and had always dreamed of living in wide open spaces with lots of nature and little civilization. Oahu was just that and then some. Taking a break from the wedding festivities, Kat stood on the beach with the ocean foam lapping at her bare feet and the hem of her bridesmaid dress. As she gazed up at the

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full moon casting its light over the watery horizon, she reflected on how quickly her life had changed over the last few weeks. And how much more it would change in the months to come. After Sicoli was apprehended, they had decided to leave Alabaster and head up to Aiden’s house in Boston. She’d gotten to spend time with his mother and sisters, all of whom she adored, and according to Aiden they felt the same way about her. His mother had actually pulled her aside one day and thanked her for “bringing her son back from the dead.” She’d responded with, “We brought each other back.” They also hung out with Joey quite a bit. It made her really happy to watch them reconnect as they recounted old stories and shared

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new ones with each other, like how Joey went from Boston PD to the FBI or how Aiden saved a spitting-mad kitten in a dark alley. Then it was her turn to make familial amends. Aiden had finally convinced her to call her sister. She’d been so distant from Nessie for so long that the idea of talking to her, much less seeing her again, had made her nervous. But as she’d dialed the number, Aiden sat with his arm around her, offering his strength and support, as always. Now they’d been living in this tropical paradise for three weeks as she reconnected with her sister. They’d spent every day together without fail. Some days were spent finalizing all the details for the wedding and sometimes they lounged on the beach while

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watching Jackson try unsuccessfully to teach Aiden to surf. Sometimes they talked about their childhood and what Kat had endured after Nessie left home. Those conversations were always difficult, but in the end they were cathartic as well. Over the last few weeks, they’d gotten to know each other as women who were far different from the scared children they had once been. Now that she had her sister back and the man she loved by her side, Kat couldn’t ask for anything more in life. “Hey, Kitty-Kat, you okay?” Turning, she saw Vanessa approach in her elegant satin sheath wedding dress. Her sister was even more beautiful than she had remembered. Poised and graceful and utterly

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classy. At least until you put a beer in her hand and a dartboard in front of her. Kat had enjoyed seeing Nessie’s wild side when the four of them hung out at Duke’s Waikiki. That girl could do half a dozen shots of tequila and still hit a bull’s-eye without flinching. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just enjoying the view,” Kat said. “I’m going to miss it.” “I wish you weren’t leaving so soon.” Nessie took hold of Kat’s hands. “Are you sure you have to go back to Boston?” “We talked about this. Aiden already gave up his life once when you and Jax sent him after me, and I want him to have more time with his family. Plus, he already owns a house there, so it only makes sense.” Vanessa sighed in resignation. “All right,

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as long as he allows me visitation rights whenever I want them,” she said with a wink. Kat laughed. “I’ll make sure of it.” “Good,” she said as she linked her arm through Kat’s and turned toward the ocean. Kat still couldn’t get over the fact that she had her sister back. After so many years of keeping Vanessa at a distance to protect her, every time they were together, even the littlest thing would make her emotional, and she wasn’t sure how to process it all. “Nessie, I know I’m not the greatest at expressing my feelings, but I want you to know how incredibly happy I am for you.” Kat felt her sister’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet them for fear of breaking into a blubbering mess. “It’s so obvious how much Jax loves and cherishes you

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and…I’m so glad you found each other, that’s all.” “Oh, sweetie.” Vanessa gathered Kat into a hug and held her. “Thank you. That means so much to me. But I want you to know,” she said, pulling back to look her in the eyes, “that even as much as I love Jackson, without you my life wasn’t complete.” Her green eyes started to mist over, provoking Kat’s to do the same despite her attempts to lock her tear ducts down. Vanessa continued. “You’ve always been the missing piece of my heart. There are no words for how I feel now that I have you back. I love you so much, Kitty-Kat.” Damn her for making Kat cry. A few tears were all it took to undo the hard work the staff had put into transforming her into a

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worthy bridesmaid for her sister’s wedding. Now she was all stuffy and probably had a red nose and puffy eyes with running mascara. But even at the risk it would make things worse, Kat pulled her sister into another hug and whispered, “I love you, too, Nessie.” “Hey, Irish, you ever fantasize about doing it with sisters?” “Nah. I’m pretty content with the one I’ve got.” They broke apart to find Aiden and Jax walking up to them, looking dapper in their casual wedding wear. As soon as he was within striking distance, Vanessa playfully backhanded her new husband in the chest. Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the scowl from her face.

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Aiden smiled at Kat and she stepped into his embrace. Looking up at him, she raised an eyebrow and said, “Only ‘pretty content,’ huh?” Bending his head, he spoke softly in her ear. “It wouldn’t be right to tell the guy on his wedding day that I have the better sister.” She chuckled. “You’re such a good friend.” Jax must have overheard her because he said, “If he was such a good friend, he’d stop fighting me tooth and nail on the details of our joint business venture.” Aiden cut the other man a look that would make most cower, and Nessie let out a disgusted sigh. Kat turned to her brother-inlaw. “What business venture?” “I want to open an MMA gym with him, but he’s dragging his feet.”

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“I’m not dragging anything. You’re like an antsy kid on a road trip.” Kat held up her hands. “Whoa, what are you guys talking about?” A splash of water doused the side of Jackson’s white linen pants and shirt. Kat tried not to laugh at the shocked look on his face as he turned to his smug wife standing in the surf. “You said you’d give him time to discuss it with her,” Vanessa accused, one hand on a hip and the other keeping the bottom of her dress dry. “He’s already had several weeks,” Jax argued. “He needed a fire lit under his ass.” Jackson’s entire demeanor changed to determination and utter wickedness. As he pulled out the drawstring on his pants and

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wrapped it around his hands, Vanessa’s eyes blew wide. “Jackson,” she said evenly while taking a step to the side, “remember when I told you I’d get you back for stuffing wedding cake up my nose?” Another two steps. “We’re even now. It’s done.” Jax advanced. She retreated. “Jackson Thomas Maris, I am in my wedding dress.” He winked at her with a devilish grin and said, “Run, little rabbit. Run.” Vanessa let out a scream mixed with laughter as she picked up her dress and took off down the beach with her husband hot on her heels. “I’ve decided those two are crazy,” Aiden said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can’t argue with you there. Now, why

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don’t you tell me about these plans you’re making with Jax?” Aiden hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his cargo pants and looked out over the black and silver waves. He half shrugged and said, “They’re not really plans. Not yet, anyway. I was gonna talk to you first to see what you thought.” Kat moved in front of him. “Okay then, talk to me now.” He took a big breath and said, “I thought maybe we could take the winnings from the Four by Four and invest in starting our own gym with Jax. He wants to open one here and I thought it would be a way to earn a living while still working on getting back into the game, so to speak.” “But what about your house in Boston?

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And being around your family and Joey? You just got that all back.” He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her in close. She ran her hands up his strong arms and rested them on his shoulders. “I’ve already spent my whole life there, and I’ve seen how much you love it out here. You need to be with your sister, and all I need is to be with you.” Again with the tears! For the love of all that’s holy, this is getting ridiculous! “Besides,” he added, “we can always go back to Boston for long visits and whatnot.” “Well, then we should probably schedule a couple of visits in the next six months or so. After that it might be tricky for a while.” His brow furrowed. “Why’s that?” Butterflies kicked up in her belly and

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nerves almost had her changing the subject, but she took a deep breath and bit the bullet. Linking her hands behind his neck, she locked her eyes onto his and said, “Because I’d imagine it’ll be difficult flying that distance with a baby.” Aiden’s jaw went slack, and he may have even stopped breathing. Kat’s heart beat like a bass drum in her ears as she waited for some sort of reaction from the man she loved. At last, he stammered a few words. “Hhow did—? When? How long?” “I’d say approximately six weeks. Remember the quickie in the Nova?” “But that was just once.” “Yep,” she agreed, her nerves growing. “Oddly enough, that’s all it takes.”

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Holding her at arm’s length, he stared at her still-flat belly in childish wonderment. “We’re having a baby,” he said softly. Then his eyes flew up to hers, and he practically shouted with a smile, “We’re having a baby.” Laughter from nerves and excitement and relief bubbled from her chest. “Yes, we’re having a baby.” With a whoop, he hauled her up around her waist and spun her around a couple times before setting her down gently. “Goddamn, you make me so happy. I suppose now I’ve gotta make an honest woman out of you and propose, huh?” “I wouldn’t care if we never got married,” she said honestly. “Just so long as you never stop fighting for us and our family.” “Not ever, I swear.” Framing her face in

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his hands, he kissed her under the moonlight with more tenderness than she ever thought possible. “For the record, though, I wanna marry you real bad. Change that Scottish last name of yours to a proper Irish one.” She chuckled. “Oh, yeah?” “Yeah. So whatdya say?” he asked as he swept her up into his arms. “You with me, kitten?” With tears in her eyes and her heart in her throat, she nodded. “Now and forever.”

Acknowledgments As always, first and foremost, I’d like to thank my amazing husband and wonderful children who sometimes have to sacrifice their wife and mother so that I can follow my dream. Liz Pelletier for her editorial brilliance, her unwavering support, and for always going above and beyond for me, no matter the circumstances.

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KP for being my BFF and taking turns with me talking each other off of ledges. Jamie Burch of Chasing the Moon Creations for designing a beautiful, one-of-akind necklace for Irish and Kat. Thanks for letting me be picky. Adam Von Rothfelder for his enthusiasm of naming him as my inspiration for Irish, playing the part of Irish on the cover, but most importantly for his friendship. My mother, Michelle Bisbee, for being a one-woman promotion machine. My sister, Tricia Bisbee, for helping me more ways than I can count with more things than I can list, and for being my very best friend. My aunt-in-law, Sharon Macella, for always being there for me and treating me like

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her own. My cousin-in-law, Amber Wetherell, who has become one of my biggest supporters and great friends. Kristin Anders and Angie Hocking for testing out scenes and giving great feedback. Cecily White for putting on her psychologist hat and working with me to ensure I understood and accurately depicted how someone with a background like Kat’s would have dealt with situations in both the past and the present. Annie Blackburn for being so supportive, my Cajun translator, and #1 Irish fan. Robin Covington for her unintentional inspiration with a certain love scene. Ross Zentner for using his photographic talents to shoot the cover.

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Brenna Schwartz for playing the role of Kat on the cover. Tarrah Spooner, the owner of the real Lou’s Riverview, which is actually in Jefferson, WI, and a really great small town bar my family has gone to for years. And last, but certainly not least, every member of the Maxwell Mob. Your loyalty and friendship mean more to me than I can ever say. #WorldDomination

About the Author New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Gina L. Maxwell is a shameless romance addict with no intentions of ever kicking the habit. Growing up she dreamed of helping people escape reality with her acting abilities, until college when she realized she had none to speak of. Another ten years passed before she discovered a different means to

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accomplishing the same dream: writing stories of love and passion for addicts just like her. Thanks to the support of her amazing family, Gina is now the Boss of the world’s first organized romance mafia, the Maxwell Mob, and living her dream of bringing a little romantic fantasy to the world, one steamy novel at a time. www.ginalmaxwell.com Join the Maxwell Mob Buy Kat’s Necklace here!

Also releasing this month... The blind date from hell is about to get hotter...

IN BED WITH MR. WRONG the first book in the new Out of Uniform series by New York Times bestselling author Katee Robert

Air Force Pararescuer Ryan Flannery avoids his hometown at all costs, so he’s not thrilled when he’s set up on a blind date…until meets mousy librarian Brianne Nave. Her sweet curves and kissable lips are like a siren’s call, but her smart mouth? Not so much. How can two people have so little chemistry outside the bedroom when they fit together so perfectly in it? Stranded in a cabin by their

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friends, they’ll be forced to find out—if they don’t kill each other first.

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Then...unleash your inner vixen with the following Brazen titles you may have missed!

Opposites don’t attract. They ignite.

UNDER THE COVERS a Maverick Montana novel by Rebecca Zanetti

Juliet Montgomery fled to Montana to escape her not-so-law-abiding family, but when someone back home finds her in the small town near the Kooskia reserve, sexy sheriff Quinn Lodge must push aside his own demons—and try to contain his explosive attraction to Juliet—to keep her safe.

Amazon | B&N | iTunes She’s running from the law, and the law wants her bad.

PROTECTING WHAT’S HIS a Line of Duty novel by Tessa Bailey

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Sassy bartender Ginger Peet just committed the perfect crime. Life-sized Dolly Parton statue in tow, Ginger and her sister flee Nashville. But their new neighbor, straightlaced Chicago homicide cop Derek Tyler, knows something’s up—something big—and he won’t rest until Ginger’s safe…and in his bed for good.

Amazon | B&N | iTunes He’s undercover. She’s in over her head.

LOVER UNDERCOVER a McCade Brothers novel by Samanthe Beck

When Kylie Roberts is forced to step into her twin’s sexy stilettos, she isn’t prepared for

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the dead body in the parking lot, or the ridiculously hot detective assigned to the case. It’s only a matter of time before long nights filled with sensual promises take Kylie and Trevor’s undercover operation under the covers…

Amazon | B&N | iTunes He was a dare she’s never been able to resist…

DOWN AND DIRTY a Dare Me novel by Christine Bell

When she’s dared to jump into bed with an old flame, self-professed infatuation junky Cat Thomas knows she’s screwed. She’s never been able to resist her brother’s sexy best

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friend, so after one hot night together she does what any sane woman would do—sets him up on a dating site before she does something stupid. Like fall in love with him again.

Amazon | B&N | iTunes He’ll guard her body all night long.

WILDE NIGHTS IN PARADISE a Wilde Security novel by Tonya Burrows

Former Marine Jude Wilde’s motto has always been “burn bridges and never look back.” But when Wilde Security is hired to protect district attorney Libby Pruitt, the woman he loved and left, Jude can’t ignore the heat—or the animosity—sparking between

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them. With her life on the line and a grudge to break, can he win back Libby’s heart?

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Enjoy more stories by NYT and USA TODAY bestselling author Gina L. Maxwell! He’ll teach her the art of seduction...for a price.

SEDUCING CINDERELLA a Fighting for Love novel

Mixed martial arts fighter Reid Andrews needs to reclaim his title. Lucie Miller needs seduction lessons to catch the eye of another man. They agree to help each other, but by the end of their respective trainings, Reid and Lucy might just discover they’ve already found what they desire most…

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Seven days. And seven rules to break...

RULES OF ENTANGLEMENT a Fighting for Love novel

Pretending to be engaged to Vanessa MacGregor isn’t so bad. But while acting like they’re in love in public is doable, once they’re inside and heating up the sheets, the line between pretend and reality begins to blur. Especially when Jax is presented with the ultimate challenge—Vanessa has seven rules that dictate her future, and he only has seven days to make her break them if he wants to be in it.

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