Page 84 of King of Temptation

“Lochlan is in love.”

There was little in this world that shocked Brody O’Rourke anymore. But that single sentence had him staring at his twin cousins, one of whom was scowling at the entire room while his brother cackled maniacally beside him.

“I am not in love,” Lochlan growled, the hints of their homeland that were ever-present in all their voices thicker than usual. “It was just a fling. A one-time event that will never, ever be repeated.”

Brody lifted his whiskey glass to hide his smile. “Nobody broods like that over a one-night stand, cousin.”

“They do when they find out the one-night stand slept with the wrong brother,” Tiernan crowed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he clutched his stomach.

From the other end of the couch, Murphy snorted and shook his head. “Serves you right for sleeping with a girl half your age.”

“She’s the one who broke into my hotel room!” Sliding further down in his seat, Lochlan somehow managed to scowl even more fiercely.

That little piece of information had them all sitting up straighter. “You didn’t tell me that,” Killian snapped, his voice and eyes sharp despite the whiskey.

“It wasn’t relevant. None of this is relevant.”

Shaking his head at his cousin, Brody sighed. “Jesus Christ, Lochlan. You’re an O’Rourke. Of course some woman breaking into your hotel room is relevant. What did she want?”

“My dick, apparently. Or rather, Tiernan’s dick.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Brody prayed for patience. “All right. Walk us through this from the beginning.”

Everyone including Tiernan went quiet, and Lochlan sat up a bit straighter. “There’s not much to tell. I went to that reunion like Killian asked, to see if Josh Miller knew anything about the Russians quietly buying up real estate around the docks. Which he didn’t, because he’s a fucking moron.”

“Where’s the girl come in?” Murphy asked, the wheels in his mind clearly already turning. He might not be as involved in the day-to-day of their operations anymore, but he was still their best strategist.

“She just hopped up on the bar stool next to me and we flirted a bit. I gave her my room number and when I walked in a couple hours later, there she was. Nearly naked, calling me Daddy, and practically begging me to fuck her.”

“Did you have anything in your room she could have been snooping through?” Murphy pressed. “Any electronics? Notes from Killian?”

“I’m not a goddamned amateur, Murph. The only thing I had in my room was clothes.”

“Doesn’t mean she couldn’t have been looking for more,” Killian pointed out.

“I doubt it.” When everyone looked his way, Tiernan shrugged. “We already told you, she’s Becky’s daughter. She thought it was me in that hotel room. It’s just some fucked-up revenge plot.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Holding up his hand, Brody leaned in. “Tiernan’s ex-fiancée’s daughter seduced you in a random hotel and you don’t think that’s really fucking suspicious?”

The twins shared a look, and Tiernan raised a hand to run a finger over the scar above his brow. “That was twenty years ago,” he said, the corners of his mouth dipping down into a frown. “No way she’s been holding a grudge that long.”

Murphy rolled his eyes, his patience clearly wearing thin. “If she wasn’t still hung up on you, her daughter wouldn’t have chosen you for her supposed revenge fuck. There’s something more to this story, and you two need to figure it the fuck out.”

“Murphy’s right.” Voice cold as the ice in his whiskey glass, Killian looked around the room, his gaze locking on each of his cousins in turn. “Find her, and then find out what the fuck she knows that we don’t.”

Brody

* * *

He returned home in a much more somber mood than when he’d left. A mood that wasn’t helped in the least by the scatter of dishes and boxes of junk food all over his kitchen island.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep without cleaning up first, he sighed and reached for the dirty dishes.

“We were going to get those in the morning.”

Without bothering to turn, he shrugged off his cousin’s assurances. “You know I can’t go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink.”

“They weren’t in the sink,” Reagan shot back with the smug sarcasm she’d mastered rather early on in life.