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CONNOR
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,this woman will be the end of me.
I’m still astonished that the stuck-up princess had the balls to come into my warehouse alone and unattended again, after everything that happened last night, knowing that if I took her virginity, this whole ridiculous ruse could be upended.
I suppose I should be flattered that she thinks highly enough of me to trust that I wouldn’t force her, but at this point, she’s gotten so far under my skin that all I am is pissed off.
I hadn’t really thought she’d come there to fuck me, the way I’d insinuated, but I’d enjoyed teasing her. Enjoyed getting a rise out of her, feeling the way she responded to my kiss so quickly—right up to the point that I remembered I couldn’t actually fuck her without tying myself down to everything she represented. Then I got pissed off all over again, along with what’s rapidly becoming a chronic case of blue balls.
She’d surprised me again by agreeing to get on the bike. I thought for sure once she was able to drop the seductive lady-of-the-night act, she’d go back to relying solely on her driver for transportation, as I’m sure she’s been doing her whole life.
Yet another thing I’m not interested in being saddled with again.The thought of going from place to place in the confines of a dark, luxurious Towncar with a driver squiring me around sends a shudder to my core. One of the best things about my new life here was the acquisition of my bike, the open air, and the absolute freedom it affords me.
Freedom.That’s all I want, and I can feel it being pulled away from me, bit by bit. That’s exactly why I’d given that speech to Saoirse about what to expect from our marriage,ifwe’re married. I know I’d shocked her, but I’d meant what I said.
Did you? Did you really? Are you going to be able to handle knowing another man’s hands are on her?
The thought gives me a pang of jealousy I’d neither anticipated nor wanted.It’s just because you haven’t had her,I tell myself as we stride to Graham’s room.You'll lose interest once you’ve fucked her, just like all the others. You won’t care what she does after that.
I’m so lost in thought that I almost don’t see who’s there at first when Graham opens the door. When I do, it takes me a second to recognize the man standing there. He’s older, like we all are, a scruff of stubble decorating his chin, a small scar next to one blue eye, his body rangier and more muscular than when we were kids. But it takes only a moment for me to recognize him. After all, we all grew up together, and he was practically Liam’s other brother.
Especially once you abandoned him.
I ignorethatlittle voice especially, pushing my way into the room as I pin the other man with a glare. “Niall Flanagan. What’re you doing with yourself these days? And more importantly, why the fuck are you in London?”
“I’m here on Liam’s behalf,” he says coolly, matching my glare with one of his own. “He’s become aware of what Graham and Saoirse are up to, and he sent me to try and—negotiate on his behalf.”
“Bloodynegotiations,”I swear aloud, and Niall raises an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
“Never mind.” I run a hand through my hair, casting an irritated glance at all three of them as I stride further into the room. “What has my brother sent you to say?”
“He wants me to fill you in on the good he’s done for the Kings while he’s held the seat. The things he’s accomplished since he took your father’s place. The alliance he’s created—”
“An alliance I hear he promptly fucked up when he married the Russian girl.” I open the minibar despite Graham’s protest, pulling out a shot of scotch and pouring it into a glass. I toss it back in one gulp and open another.
“You know those cost money, right?” Graham looks at me pointedly.
“You got rich, thanks to my family. You’ve destroyed my peace here in London. You can buy me a fucking drink.” I take a sip of the second scotch, looking back at Niall. “So my brother has sent you here to sing his praises?”
“To suggest that maybe things are better as they are.” Niall holds my gaze, his own chilly. “And I’m inclined to say the same.”
“You’re at the table now? I didn’t think the Flanagans were Kings.”
“They’re not,” Niall says flatly. “I’m your brother’s right hand. And I’m loyal to him, as I’m sure your men here are to you. There’s no need to leave this all behind and come home, Connor.”
“Except that the table wants my brother dead if I don’t.”
“There’s been—negotiations.” Niall frowns. “It’s been suggested that if Liam chooses to pass on his seat to another son of the table, instead of his future children with Ana, he might hold it.”
“Now wait one bloody second,” Graham snaps. “None of that was discussed—”
“It has been since you’ve been gone. Not every conversation requires you, Graham.” Niall glares at him.
“I have to say, since I’ve heard what’s going on, I’m not as inclined as you are to think my brother is deserving of the seat.” I take another sip of my scotch. “I’m unhappy, for instance, to know that he agreed to let Viktor Andreyev execute our father.”
“Something, the two of you, can hash out,” Graham says sharply, “when you return to Boston.”
