Page 4 of King of Temptation

Definitely not her people. Oh, well. She could still shop around a bit, maybe even buy something and support a local business.

“Stalking me again?”

Goddammit.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in deep before turning to face him, a bright smile plastered on her face. “From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re the one doing the stalking. Something I can do for you, Mr. O’Rourke?”

“Uh-huh.” His dark gaze raked over her, and despite the warmth of the day she suddenly wished her arms weren’t so bare. Not because she had any problem with the amount of skin she was showing, but because she could feel his gaze on her like a physical caress, leaving little fires of need everywhere it touched. “So you just happen to be visiting the bookstore across the street from where my cousin is having a meeting?”

The insult of being accused of something she wasn’t actually doing pricked at her. Not that she could necessarily blame him as she had, indeed, been caught stalking him before. But she wasn’t stalking him now, so it was very rude of him to accuse her of doing so.

She was just about to let him know exactly how she felt about his baseless accusations when his words fully registered. “Killian’s at Charleston Brews?”

As she spoke, she craned her neck to scan the buildings across the street from the bookstore. Her first thought was that it was an odd place for a mob boss to have a meeting, but on second thought, was there really a normal place for such business to be discussed?

It could be a fun little quirk for her next book. A mob boss with an affinity for fancy coffee. Maybe he could even fall in love with one of the baristas. Oh, and then he’d have to kidnap her, because of course his enemies would figure out she was important to him and then⁠—

“Yes. Which you already knew.” The snap in Brody’s voice jerked her out of her fictional world and back to reality.

Reality, where an actual mobster, not one of her fictional heroes, was glaring at her, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he waited for her to explain herself.

Temper sparked in her chest. “I actually did not know that, thank you very much. Contrary to your beliefs, Mr. O’Rourke, my life does not revolve around you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have shopping to finish.”

The bastard had the nerve to glare at her. “Your shirt is right. The sass really is strong in this one.”

“What?” Looking down, she took in the bright pink words, accompanied by matching pink light sabers. With a smirk on her lips, she tossed her hair—or it would have been a toss before she’d chopped it all off on a whim a few months ago—and glared right back at him. “Aw, the big bad mob boss can’t handle a little sass? What happened to showing me how the O’Rourkes handled naughty little girls?”

Considering that her parting shot, she moved to step around him but before she could push past him, his hand snaked out, wrapping around her upper arm.

“You caught me on a good day. But I’m not going to warn you again, Goldie. Stay away from me and my family, or I will make you regret it.”

His words, delivered in that harsh, growling tone, only served to reignite the painful arousal between her thighs.

Apparently body-betrayal syndrome was a real thing. Good to fucking know.

Jerking her arm from his grasp, she returned his glare with a smug smile that she hoped hid the fact her heart was pounding and her panties were soaked. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, O’Rourke.”

Without giving him a chance to answer her, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the shop, her brain already swirling with ideas.

If she was going to be falsely accused of stalking, she might as well earn the allegation. And whatever consequences came with it.

Right after she went home and tried out that box of toys beside her desk.

Chapter 2

Brody

Ignoring the heated glare the shop owner sent him from behind the counter, he watched Goldie—aka Marigold Jane Quinn—sweep down the street toward her apartment building. She only lived a couple blocks from the bookstore, which made it entirely plausible that she had just wandered in, completely by coincidence.

He didn’t believe in coincidences.

And he especially didn’t believe in coincidences with big whiskey-gold eyes and a proven penchant for mischief.

When she was finally out of sight, he made his way back over to the coffee shop, where Killian was just rising from his table to shake hands with Beckett Stone, his financial advisor. “Thanks again for meeting me on such short notice, Beckett. Perhaps I’m jumping the gun a bit, but I figured it’s never too early to start worrying about your child’s future.”

The other man smiled, though it was slightly strained at the edges. Beckett and Killian had the kind of friendship where Beckett had found himself trapped in Killian’s orbit and he still wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

Brody had a feeling his cousin preferred it that way.