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“I suppose it’s too much to ask that she absconds on her wedding night.”
“I think the lass might be smarter than that,” Ronan interjects, clapping a hand on Paddy’s shoulder. “Ye’re wanted at the bridal table, Paddy.”
Sighing, Paddy shoots his final whiskey, slamming the empty glass on the bar and striding up to the table, sinking into his chair between Seamus’s new bride and Darragh, Sean Fitzpatrick’s right-hand man.
As we watch, Paddy shoots the bride a lethal look, scooting his chair away from her. Jesus fuck, the lad needs to be careful. He needs to watch his disrespect. Sean won’t like it.
“Enjoy the bar, lads,” Connor says, plucking up his whiskey and nodding as he walks up to the bridal table, dropping into the chair beside Sean Fitzpatrick, grinning at something the man says.
The speeches are short and sweet –or in Paddy’s case, forced –and supper quickly follows. As soon as the food is eaten, Seamus, Paddy, and Connor abandon the bride at the head table, heading our way.
Seamus summons the bartender with a flick of his fingers, plucking up a very full glass of whiskey and turning to me.
“Niall, you’re on guard duty. If the woman so much aslooksat anyone but us, you call me.”
I nod. I’ve only just fucking gotten back to Boston, and now I’m going to be on babysitting duties for Seamus’s new wife? Just grand. I almost miss fucking cunts up already.
Sighing, I snatch a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and make my way to the head table. I’d better introduce myself to my newcharge.
Placing the glass on the table in front of her, I drop into the seat Paddy had been sitting in while we ate.
“I’m Niall Byrne,” I introduce myself, and Ylenia flinches, the blood draining from her face.
Aye, she knows exactly who I am. It’s a reaction I’m used to. I like that Mellie didn’t have the same response a year ago. Even after discovering who I was, she never looked at me like that.
It’s one of the reasons I work so hard to force myself not to take her. She’s pure, innocent. A shining fucking light in my world, and I don’t want to take that away from her. I think it would kill me to destroy her innocence.
“Tiggy,” Ylenia replies, taking a healthy sip of the champagne I brought her. I lean over until my lips are inches from her ear.
“I’m yer new shadow, Tiggy,” I mutter. She shudders. Good. “And I don’t trust ye.”
“Good to know.” She turns to face me, her voice cool and unruffled, which I have to respect the fuck out of. “I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for you.”
I bite back a smile as I study her face. I think I like Tiggy Fitzpatrick. Maybe this guard duty won’t totally make me want to blow my brains out.
I don’t get to say anything further because Sean Fitzpatrick interrupts us, eyeing me carefully as he requests a dance with his new daughter-in-law. She sets down her champagne, taking his hand and allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.
They do a turn about the floor before Seamus cuts in. I reach for my whiskey but barely take a sip before Seamus’s eyes meet mine over his wife’s shoulder. He nods, the order clear in his eyes. Jesus fuck. I guess my socializing is done for the night.
Sighing, I stand, abandoning my drink and meeting them at the edge of the dance floor. Seamus deposits his new wife with me, turning without a backward glance to drink some more with Paddy and lament his current situation.
Tiggy doesn’t complain as I walk her to the hotel room set aside for her and Seamus. With a warning, I open the door, waving her inside.
I have been standing outside the room for all of five minutes when the door cracks open, her head poking out. My eyebrows fly up my forehead. It didn’t take long for her to try to make a run for it. What does she think we’re eejits or something?
Tiggy’s eyes meet mine, and she turns, pointing to her zipper, making her demand. Jesus fuck. I hesitate. I don’t want Seamus to try to kill me for touching or undressing his wife in any way, but she’s not moving. I think it might be worse if he appears and we’re stuck in our weird stand-off.
Gritting my teeth, I reach out, careful not to touch her, and tug the zipper down to where she’s gesturing. With a careless thanks thrown over her shoulder, she disappears back into the room.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I bring up the CCTV app. I don’t bother with the feeds showing the main bar or the strippers. There’s only one feed I’m interested in. Bringing up the shot of the VIP bar, I watch Mellie moving about, smiling and laughing as she serves patrons. Christ, I wish I was there, sitting on the barstool and watching her in person. The black and white feed does her eyes no justice at all.
After two or so hours, Seamus appears, slightly drunk and looking more relaxed than he has all day.
“Did the lass settle in without any trouble?”
I shift uncomfortably, but I don’t keep secrets from Seamus –especially not about his wife.
“She came out and asked for help undressing,” I admit, managing not to stagger as Seamus’s fist crashes into my jaw. “Relax, Fitzy. I only unzipped it halfway, didn’t even see any flesh, and I sure as feck didn’t touch yer wife in any way.”
