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SAOIRSE
HE DOESN’T RECOGNIZE ME.
That thought keeps repeating as William—Connor—leads me back into the main room and tells his men he’s heading out for the night, ignoring their jokes and wolf-whistles as he gives his man Jacob instructions. I hardly hear any of it, though, because my mind is whirling with what’s to come.
I’d been afraid of facing down a second rejection tonight, from Liam’s brother, no less. In a way, he’d already rejected me once before without a thought when he fled Boston. Now, though I have every intention of being the one to turn the tables on him tonight with my head held high, I couldn’t help the nagging worry all the way here that he wouldn’t want me.
I’dwanted Liam. I’ve wanted very little in my life. The first thing was to go to college. I’d managed that by begging for it, insisting on it, bargaining with my father until I got noteverythingI wanted—I didn’t get to live in the dorms or join a sorority or go to many parties—but I got what I wanted most, the education and the degree. And the second was Liam.
But I refuse to beg for a man or bargain for love and desire he doesn’t want to give me. If Liam walked away, I’ve told myself, again and again, it’s his loss, not mine.
I don’t know whether to feel hurt or glad that Connor doesn’t recognize me. It’s part of the plan, of course, that he doesn’t—it might not work if he had—but what man doesn’t recognize the woman he was once supposed to marry, even if I was years younger at the time?
He’s leading me towards the door, and I shove the thoughts aside. The first stage of the plan has worked—Connor is going back to the hotel. In theory, the rest should be easy—get him up to my room, where my father is waiting, and then the jig will be up. Connor will know who I am and why he’s there, and my father can lay out the situation in Boston.
I feel a small flicker of guilt. Looking around the warehouse, it was easy to see how well Connor has remade himself, straight up from the rainy cobblestoned mud of the less reputable London streets—a far cry from what he left behind. And a tiny part of me, one that I can’t listen to too closely, whispers thatperhaps we should leave well enough alone.That maybe Connor is happy here, on his own, without the McGregor legacy dragging him down.
But it’s too late for all that.
We step out into the cold drizzle, and I shiver, remembering my leather jacket in the car with longing. I don’t dare go get it, even though it’s idling on the other side of the building. I can’t give Connor a chance to rethink this or change his mind—I’ve gotten him aroused and thinking with his baser instincts, and I have to keep that momentum going.
He notices, though, glancing at me. “Here, have my jacket, love.” He shrugs out of it before I can tell him no, I’m fine, draping the heavy leather over my shoulders. “It’s a bit big for you, but the wind will get fierce once we pick up speed. Better me cold and unprotected than you. Besides,” he adds with a wink. “I’m sure you’ll warm me up quick enough once we’re in your room.”
I smile at him, tilting my chin to look into his piercing blue eyes. “Oh, I plan to,” I tell him softly, as seductively as I can manage, but the tremor of desire that runs through the words is real.
The weight of the jacket settles over me, and it smells like him, like worn leather and tobacco smoke and engine oil, with the spice of his cologne sunk deep into it. I breathe in as he hands me the spare helmet, and the scent of him filling my nostrils sends an undeniable warmth through me all the way down to my toes, a throb of desire rippling through me.
I hadn’t expected towanthim like this. My heart is pounding as I straddle the bike behind him, and not just because of my nervousness at getting on a motorcycle for the first time. Without his jacket, I can see the gun in a back holster above his jeans, and a small thrill of fear runs through me, reminding me that this man is dangerous. He’s not someone to trifle with, yet that’s exactly what I’m doing.
But that’s not the only reason I can feel my pulse hammering against my throat, making me gasp for breath as I settle in behind him.
This close to him, I can feel the heat of his huge, muscular body radiating through his wet t-shirt and mine, as solid as the leather seat between my thighs. I feel another shiver run through me as he speaks in his gruff, English-accented voice.
“Feet there, love,” he says, indicating. “And wrap your arms around me, tight. Lean in a little with me when I do on a curve; otherwise, just hang on. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he adds, and for some reason, I believe him without hesitation. “I wouldn’t die happy without getting you in the sheets,” he adds wryly. Then, as the vibration of a laugh passes through him, rattling against my chest, he fires up the engine, and I feel a different vibration altogether.
It’s like straddling a living thing, an analogy that sends my blood racing because I suddenly want to be straddling him more than ever. The engine thrums through my body like the pulse in my blood, making me feel alive, breathless. My arms wrap tightly around his solid midsection, and I brace my feet, my cheek pressed against his back. I can feel the ruffle of his hair against my forehead as he puts the bike in gear and smell his pine-scented shampoo. I feel as if I’ve slipped over into another world, one where I really am the girl I dressed up as tonight, the kind of girl who could get on a motorcycle fearlessly with a man like Connor, take him back to her place and fuck him with the type of confidence I’m not certain I’ll be able to muster when it comes right down to it.
There are many things I’m confident about—my intelligence, my looks, my ability to hold my own in this world that wants nothing more than to make me a pawn—but not pleasing a man. I don’t even know where to begin, and I’m half certain that we’ve only made it this far because my reaction to Connor is both so thoroughly unexpected andreal.
I want him. I’m not making that up. And as he pulls out onto the rainy London streets, picking up speed as we head towards the hotel, I’m grateful that I only have to get him up to the room before we’re not alone anymore.
If we were alone for longer than that, I’m not sure what would happen.
---
Connor pulls up to the front of the hotel, tossing his keys to the valet carelessly. “Take care of it,” he says, helping me off the back as I unbuckle the helmet. “In the meantime, I’ll be taking care ofyou,” he murmurs next to my ear, his breath warm against the shell as I shiver all over again, my pulse skipping a beat in my throat.
We walk through the gilded revolving doors of the hotel, Connor’s jacket still enveloping me, and he whistles beneath his breath. “Fancy place you picked for a hookup,” he says with a grin as we stride towards the elevator. “Trying to impress me?”
“Maybe.” I give him a flirtatious grin. “Maybe I just like the contrast.” The elevator doors open, and we step inside, my body close to his as I push the button for my floor. “Rough, dangerous man in a luxury hotel. There’s something to that, don’t you think?”
“Love, I’ll fuck you anywhere you want,” Connor says, his voice thickening as the elevator starts to rise. “I’d have had you up against the wall in my warehouse earlier. I almost did,” he adds, moving towards me, the muscular bulk of him filling the space of the elevator. It suddenly feels smaller than before, the air thick and hot, the leather jacket too warm. I look up at him, my heart pounding, and he’s so close that I could touch him, pushing me back against the wall of the elevator.
“I’ll agree, though,” he continues, his hand sliding down my arm. “The allure of having you in a soft bed, with the whole night in front of us, was too good to pass up. And now—” Connor looks down at me, his gaze piercing mine as he leans into me, his muscular body dwarfing mine in a way that feels terrifying and arousing all at once, “—now I don’t think I can wait a second longer to kiss you.”
I open my mouth to tell him to wait, to put him off somehow, but it’s too late. His mouth comes crashing down onto mine, hot and fierce and demanding, and it steals what little breath I had left as I gasp, and he takes full advantage.
This is my first real kiss. Connor McGregor, in an elevator in London, and he doesn’t even know who I am.It feels as unbelievable as the ride here did, as if it’s happening in some other universe, to some other person, and that’s what gives me the nerve to reach up, my fingers tangling in his shirt as if to push him away, but instead, I just end up pulling him closer.
