Page 27 of His Kidnapped Irish Mafia Virgin

“And you’re still staring at me.”

“I am n—”

The words disappeared beneath another kiss, and I laughed against his mouth. He pulled me closer, and for a while there was nothing except his warmth, my breathing, and the quiet rhythm we found together. Liam turned me gently onto my side and slipped an arm around my waist. We were in perfect harmony. I enjoyed the strength of his arm around my waist and the way his muscles flexed as we moved.

And his breathing sounded like music in my ears. For years, mornings had meant listening for danger. They’d meant calculating exits, remembering where I’d hidden my money, and wondering whether someone from my past had finally found me.

Now I was lying in his arms, here by my own will and desire, enjoying his warmth. He smiled again at me. It was such a small thing, yet somehow, it felt like everything.

I don’t know how long we stayed in each other’s arms afterward. Time seemed to lose its shape between quiet laughter, lazy conversation, and the comfortable silence that settled over us whenever neither of us felt the need to fill it.

Liam would brush a strand of hair away from my face or steal another kiss, and every time he did, I found myself smiling before I even realized I was doing it. It felt strange how quickly something that should have felt awkward had become so natural.

Yesterday morning, I’d still been wondering whether I truly belonged here. Now I was lying beside him with my head resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. I traced circles across his chest with my fingertips, following one of the faint scars that disappeared beneath my hand. He looked at me and chuckled.

“You still haven’t run away,” he said.

“I might,” I said. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

“I appreciate the warning,” he said.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

I’d just settled against him again, perfectly content to waste another hour doing nothing, when the bedroom door opened.

“Boss, I need you to—” The words died in Paddy’s throat as he froze in the doorway. For one long second, nobody moved. Paddy’s eyes widened before years of discipline erased every trace of surprise from his face.

“My apologies, boss,” he said. He turned so quickly that he nearly walked straight into the doorframe, but he caught himself at the last second and stepped into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him with quiet precision. The click of the latch echoed through the room. I stared at the door, and then I slowly turned toward Liam.

“Oh...my God,” I said. For a heartbeat, Liam said nothing. Then the corner of his mouth twitched. “No. Don’t you dare,” I said.

That was all it took. He burst into laughter. Not the restrained chuckle I’d become used to hearing from him, but genuine laughter that seemed completely beyond his control. He leaned back against the headboard, rubbing a hand across his face as though he was actually trying to stop, which only made it worse. I picked up a pillow and threw it at him.

“This isn’t funny, Liam! You’re enjoying every second of this. God, that’s embarrassing. I can never look that man in the eye again!”

“You’ll be surprised how quickly this becomes yesterday’s news,” Liam said.

“I don’t want it to become yesterday’s news. I want it never to have happened!” I said. He laughed again, and I buried my face in my hands. “That was the most embarrassing moment of my life.”

When we came downstairs, Paddy was waiting in the sitting room with a thick brown folder resting on the coffee table. Paddy stood when Liam entered and acknowledged both of us with the calm professionalism he always seemed to have. If the interruption upstairs had embarrassed him in the slightest, there wasn’t any sign of it on his face. I found myself envying that kind of self-control, because I was still avoiding looking at him for more than a second at a time.

“Boss. My apologies again,” he said. “Miss Walsh.”

Liam shrugged as he walked past him. “Forget it. I forgot to lock the door. Let’s leave it there.”

“If you say so,” Paddy said. That seemed to settle the matter. Liam sat on one side of the sofa, and I lowered myself beside him, trying very hard to convince myself that nobody in the room remembered what had happened upstairs.

Judging by the amusement still lingering in Liam’s eyes, I was the only person making that effort. He reached over absent-mindedly and squeezed my hand. His attention shifted completely a second later.

“What have you got for me?” he asked.

Paddy picked up the folder, opened it carefully, and spread photographs and printed documents across the table between us. The easy atmosphere that had filled the room moments earlier disappeared so quickly that it almost felt as though somebody had switched it off. Liam’s posture changed. The relaxed man who’d teased me upstairs was gone, replaced by the one who always seemed to notice everything.

“We’ve been working two investigations simultaneously,” Paddy began. “We needed to confirm the two incidents were connected: Miss Walsh’s kidnapping and the letter reaching this house. The methods were different enough that there could have been two different teams of people trying to reach her.” I looked from the photographs to Liam, then back to the folder again, trying to make sense of what Paddy had just said. For a moment I wasn’t even thinking about what the documents contained. My mind had stopped at one word: investigations. It caught me off guard. Until that moment I’d honestly believed Liam’s men were simply protecting me by watching the house, checking vehicles, and making sure nobody got close enough to grab me.

I hadn’t imagined that while I’d been trying to convince myself my life had settled into some kind of normal, they’d been quietly pulling everything apart behind the scenes, following leads I didn’t even know existed. I leaned forward before I realized I was doing it.

“You’ve been investigating this?” I asked.