Page 37 of Niall

“Yes.”

Suddenly, he crowded me against the counter. “Want to have an even better evening?”

My breath caught in my throat. “Yes.”

He nuzzled my mouth. “Good. Let’s start now.”

CHAPTER TEN

ANNA

The next morning, I met Una downstairs. I insisted on going down myself. Niall wasn’t happy, and we agreed on him taking the elevator to the lobby and staying put. I turned as I got out. “I’ll see you later.”

He frowned, glowering and unhappy. “You have your phone?”

“Yes.”

“You know who the men are?”

I resisted rolling my eyes. “Yes.”

“You’ll—”

I cut him off with a shake of my head. “I’ll kick your arse if you don’t stop acting like a mother hen.”

A grin pulled at his lips. “Arse?”

“It’s catchy, you and your accent.” I giggled. “You mix it up all the time. Feck, fuck. Idiot, eegit. You get more Irish.”

He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me close. “Stop saying fuck,” he hissed. “Or feck. You know what it does to me. You’re going to get more Irish,” he said with a leer.

I couldn’t help my chuckle.

“I’m gonna catch you later and show you my arse.” He pressed a kiss to my neck. “Maybe play with yours,” he added in my ear, making me shiver.

“Stop it.”

He nibbled on the skin, swirling his tongue along the same path. “And I’m not a hen. I’m a great big co⁠—”

I covered his mouth, and he laughed behind it, kissing my palm.

Then he stepped back. “Later, Polly.”

I was still laughing as I walked toward Una. I knew without a doubt he had watched me cross the lobby before stepping back into the elevator. That as soon as he got to the office, he would look at the monitor. I also knew Finn would have one focused on this area the whole time we were here.

I sat down after hugging Una. She looked better today, her bruises fading. Niall had kissed and counted every one of mine last night, insisting there was one fewer. Then he made sure by kissing them again. He was pleased and informed me they were disappearing under his magic mouth.

I couldn’t disagree about the magic his lips and tongue could do.

I poured myself a tea, glancing at the laptop Una had on her lap. “What are you doing?”

She smiled. “Ordering kitchen stuff.”

“Oh, fun.”

She patted the seat beside her, and for the next while, we sipped tea as she ordered baking trays, bowls, and a new mixer. Measuring cups and spoons. Cute tea towels and oven mitts. We skipped over to the décor side, and she added a blanket and some toss cushions.

“For now,” she explained. “It’s so sterile.”