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Once Ronan parks the car, Mac climbs out and opens Harper’s door, holding out his hand. “Come on, Harper.”
“Where are we?”
Ronan answers without looking at her, “Our apartment.”
“Why am I here?”
“Jesus, would you stop asking questions and get the hell upstairs? We will explain everything once we’re inside,” Ronan snaps.
With Mac’s hand still stretched towards Harper, she reluctantly grabs it and climbs out of the car. The four of us load into the elevator as Ronan swipes his keycard, allowing the elevator to take us to the penthouse. Much like the car ride here, the elevator is plagued with silence.
I’m standing directly behind her and find myself bending forward slightly to smell her hair. I don’t have to bend far, though, as she’s easily five-foot-ten. I inhale her vanilla and caramel shampoo. Of course, she smells delicious.
Finally, the ding of the elevator lets me know we’ve reached the penthouse, and I snap out of it.
The door opens, and Ronan immediately storms toward the direction of the bar because he’s an asshole, and Mac gives her a sympathetic look before following his brother. Last man standing, I guess. I gesture at her to follow me, “Come on Harper. I’ll show you around and then we can talk about what’s going on.”
She looks at me deadpan.
I sigh and run my hand across my beard. “Harper. Come on.”
She still isn’t moving. I see it in her eyes; the shock of three men coming into her place of employment and practically abducting her is finally setting in. I don’t want to have to grab her and drag her out of the elevator. It’s just going to frighten her more. Not only that, but I don’t know if I can handle touching her… at least not yet. After another minute, she finally exits the elevator and follows me down the hallway.
Our apartment is large. I wouldn’t even classify it as an apartment. It’s bigger than most homes and takes up the whole top floor of this building. There are floor-to-ceiling windows all the way around. It’s a bachelor pad if I’ve ever seen one. The walls in the main living area are painted a deep gray that extends over the ceiling. A sizable caramel-brown leather couch sits in the den, two black suede armchairs on either side, and a huge plasma screen TV hangs above the fireplace. The place is almost entirely void of personal touches but has a fully stocked bar, of course.
I show Harper around the main living space as she silently follows behind. I’m not entirely sure she’s listening to anything I’m saying.
I lead her down the hallway past our bedrooms and push open the door to the guest room at the end. Mac was in here all afternoon, ensuring it had everything she might need.
“This is where you’ll be staying,” I tell her as she stands in the hallway. Instead of walking through the door, she takes a step backward.
“I’m staying here?”
That finally got her attention. “Yes, Harper.” I don’t offer any more information, and she has no other questions. Realizing she isn’t going to walk into the room I motion for her to follow me back out to the living room.
Ronan and Mac sit in the armchairs, each with a glass of whiskey in hand, leaving me to sit on the couch next to her, again. Her cheeks are still flushed, whether from being hot or in shock, I’m not sure. I look at her, “Do you want to take your jacket off? You look warm.”
“Oh, umm, sure.” As she peels her jacket off, her shirt lifts slightly, and I can see the pale skin across her stomach. I can’t help but picture what that would feel like underneath my hands.
Stop it, Finn.
I grab her jacket and drape it over the arm of the couch. Ronan clears his throat, “Harper, do you know who we are? Do you know why we’re here?”
She looks at the three of us like we’re the dumbest bunch she’s ever met. “No, I don’t have a single clue who the hell any of you are. If you don’t tell me what’s going on in the next five minutes, I’m grabbing my shit, and I’m walking out that door,” she says abruptly, the bravado she had in the bookstore back in her voice. Glad to know she knows how to stand up for herself. We’re used to people, women especially, being afraid of us. This is a nice change of pace.
Not sure Ronan would agree, though.
4
Harper
Why am I not running from here, kicking and screaming? Why am I not asking more questions? Why am I not scared of them? What the hell is wrong with me?
What could be worse than what I have already gone through? Without warning, my parents died the same day, and my aunt had a stroke right in front of me. I have lost everyone important in my life. I have no more family and no friends… I am alone. If I go out, at least it will be at the hands of three of the most beautiful men I have ever seen.
Sure, they came in and took me in the night, but something in my gut was screaming at me. Even though they are dangerous, I should trust them.
I finally snap out of my internal dialogue when one of them asks, “Harper, do you know who we are? Do you know why we’re here?” I may not be afraid, but I don’t have the patience for this shit. Either they tell me what’s going on, or I’m leaving. I have my own life to get back to, as bleak and boring as it may be. “No, I don’t have a single clue who the hell any of you are. If you don’t tell me what’s going on in the next five minutes, I’m grabbing my shit and walking out that door.”
