Page 116 of King of Temptation

“Oh my god,” Aria managed breathlessly, clutching at her stomach as giggles continued to pour forth from her mouth. “That’s like something out of a cartoon. I can’t believe that worked!”

“She’s lucky it did.” That same ice Brody had seen in his cousin’s eyes now coated his voice, and Aria straightened, her mouth dipping down into a frown as she stared at her husband. “You could have gotten yourself killed, Marigold. What were you thinking?”

Pulling Brody’s jacket more tightly around her, she met Killian’s gaze, her eyes still flashing with righteous anger. “I was thinking there was no way I was going to sit by and watch the man I love die.”

“She has a point.” Reagan shrugged when he turned his glare on her. “Just because she’s a woman doesn’t mean she’s incapable. You would have done the same, or worse, if the situation had been reversed.”

“That’s not the point. And it has nothing to do with her being a woman and everything to do with her being mine. I’m an O’Rourke, and the O’Rourkes protect what belongs to us.”

Reagan raised a brow. “And you want her to be an O’Rourke. Ergo…”

“I can’t wait for you to find your own babygirl so I can throw this whole conversation back in your face,” Brody grumbled. From the corner of his eye, he saw Naomi look up, her cheeks turning pink before she looked back down at her patient.

Before he could do more than fleetingly wonder what that might mean, Goldie stepped forward, drilling a finger into his chest. “Reagan’s right. If it comes down to getting my ass beat or losing you, I’ll choose the spanking every goddamn time.”

Her voice broke toward the end, and guilt stabbed at him. The need to comfort, to soothe, to assure her he was still alive took over and he pulled her into his arms, and it felt like his heart might actually break when the shaking started.

“Shh, menace. I’m right here. Nothing bad happened. Daddy’s right here, baby.”

“I was so fucking scared,” she whispered, the bravado drained from her voice. “I couldn’t do nothing, Brody. I couldn’t just stand there and⁠—”

“I understand.”

Pulling back, she stared up at him through tear-soaked eyes. “You do?”

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you, to keep you by my side for the rest of this life and whatever comes after. It isn’t fair of me to expect you to do anything less for me.”

Confusion flickered in her eyes, but she inclined her head in a regal motion he imagined she’d picked up from Reagan. “Well… good. Because I won’t.”

Yanking her close, he ducked his head, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he dropped his voice to a low growl. “You are still going over my knee the second we get home.”

“Worth it.”

Chapter 41

Goldie

She did not, in fact, go over his knee the second they got home. Shortly after that particular decree, Naomi had announced the bullet was still lodged deep inside Rowan’s shoulder and he’d need surgery. Which required calling her brother and some of his motorcycle buddies to help move Rowan to Naomi’s private clinic.

Between that, the twins showing up to dispose of the Russians—which, by some miracle, they’d managed to do before anyone innocent passersby had spotted them and called the cops—and Brody insisting Naomi check Goldie over before he’d let her leave the clinic, they’d both collapsed in bed pretty much as soon as they’d arrived home.

Now, however, something had woken her. Shifting in the dark, she turned to face Brody, her eyes struggling to force themselves open.

“No. No, no, no. Goldie.”

It was the sound of her own name, ripped from his lips and filled with terror that catapulted her back into the waking world. “Hey. Hey, I’m right here. I’m right here.”

Even in the dim light, she could see his eyes fly open. Could see the remnants of fear in the pale gray as he reached for her.

“Fuck.” Burying his face in her hair, he breathed deep, his entire body shuddering beneath her. “Need a minute.”

“Okay,” she assured him softly, pressing her cheek to his chest. “Take whatever you need.”

For several long minutes, they lay together, her half on top of him while he breathed through the lingering terror. When his breaths finally seemed to come more easily, she lifted her head. “Will you tell me about it?”

He didn’t want to. She could see it in his eyes that the last thing he wanted to do was burden her with his nightmare. And she was just about to tell him not to worry about it, despite how badly she ached to comfort him, when he spoke.

“It wasn’t anything special.” His voice was still rough, thick with sleep and emotion. “Just reliving the events of the day. Seeing the men I killed, watching them die all over again.”