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“Noemi, come down and meet someone.” My father’s voice boomed in my ears, echoing inside the hollow of my chest.
I waited for just a second to ensure it didn’t look like I’d been eavesdropping, then glided gracefully downstairs, nearly stumbling on the steps when my eyes landed on one of the most savagely handsome men I’d ever seen. He looked like his ancestors had only recently abandoned their Viking ship to raid boardrooms instead of villages. A heavy brow casting harsh shadows over ocean eyes gave him a foreboding look, while his thick blond hair styled back in a perfect pompadour would get him inside any upscale club. Unshaved scruff on his square jaw contrasted with his perfectly tailored suit the same way he showed just a tiny bit more incisor than appropriate when he smiled. Like the wolf greeting Little Red. Everything about this man was a contradiction. An enigma. He was utterly mesmerizing and perfectly terrifying.
I forced a smile.
“Noemi, this is Keir Byrne, Conner’s cousin. You met his father briefly at the engagement dinner—Jimmy Byrne.”
I tore my eyes from the man, sensing my father communicating an unspoken message. I dropped my chin a fraction to let him know I understood.
This man was important. A power player in the Irish organization.
“It’s a pleasure.” He extended his hand. “I apologize for missing the engagement dinner, but I was otherwise detained.” Hearing his voice up close and the power it wielded sent a shiver down my spine. Every softly spoken word forced those around him to listen carefully. To dance to his tune. The subtle exercise of dominance was impressive.
“As you know,” my father cut in. “Noemi here lost her voice in a tragic accident. Conversations with her aren’t easy, so we can just head back to my office.”
Keir didn’t budge. “That’s not an issue. Conner won’t be here for a few minutes. I thought that might give me time to get to know the newest addition to our family. It’s not every day we take in an outsider.” The entire time he spoke, his eyes held mine captive. Studying. Assessing.
What was he looking for? What did he think he’d find?
I wasn’t too worried because I had no malicious intent—not toward him or his family. Any negativity I felt was reserved for my own flesh and blood.
My father agreed, albeit reluctantly. He’d clearly hoped to make the introduction and be rid of my presence as quickly as possible, but Keir had other plans.
Dad’s lips thinned. “Let’s have a seat in the living room. Noemi, you’ll have to get your pad and paper.” He peered back at Keir. “That’s how she communicates,” he explained as though I were a trained ape. “She should probably learn sign language at some point, but it’s hardly been a priority so soon after her mother’s death.”
I gritted my teeth at the manufactured grief he forced into his voice. As if my father had given one minute’s thought to her death except to cover up what he’d done. Suddenly realizing I was being watched, my eyes cut to Keir. He’d seen the glare I’d shot at my father’s back.
I wondered if it was possible to keep anything from his keen eye. If he was curious about my reaction, I couldn’t tell. He gave absolutely nothing away. The man was the Dalai Lama of calm and control. It was unnerving. Conner was contained, but his composure wasn’t so absolute, at least not when I was around. Like last night. I’d had the sense he was seconds from complete chaos, and I sort of relished knowing I had that effect on him. Keir held so tightly to his reins that I didn’t think anything could rattle him.
Forcing a smile, I tried to rid myself of emotion. If I didn’t feel it, I couldn’t show it.
“There are two more members of the family who would love to meet you,” Keir informed me as he sat on one end of the sofa, an arm draped along the back cushion like a king on his throne. He motioned for me to sit with him. “Paddy and Nana Byrne, our grandparents and the founders of our family. It’s hard for them to get out these days, but they’ve requested a visit. If it’s agreeable to you, Fausto, I thought I could run Noemi over to their house tomorrow to meet them. They rarely get out anymore.”
My heart hammered against my ribs, unsure of what to do.
Keir and I both looked at my father, whose black eyes cut to me.
“I’m not sure it’s appropriate for her to be alone with another man before the wedding.” Dad shifted uncomfortably just as Sante entered the room, inserting himself into our conversation.
“I’d be happy to go with Noemi.” My brother leaned in to shake hands with Keir. “Sante Mancini, Noemi’s brother. You must be Keir Byrne.” He so desperately wanted to be a man and to help me. It broke my heart because he was so clueless. Dad would never agree to us going without supervision.
“That’s kind of you to offer, Sante,” Keir responded. “But surely your father wouldn’t be giving his daughter away if he thought we didn’t have the ability to keep her safe.”
Displeasure deepened the creases of my father’s face. Any argument on his behalf would be a blatant disrespect to Keir and the entire Byrne family. He had no choice but to agree, and Keir knew it.
“Of course, I trust you. But she is my only baby girl. I’d hate to damage her reputation so close to the wedding. If we sent one of my men along with you, that would ease my mind.” Dad tried another tack.
Keir stared unflinchingly at my father. “And I would understand your concern if anyone beyond our two families had asked, but Conner is my cousin. It’s hardly inappropriate for me to aid in escorting her.”
I couldn’t believe Keir was arguing with my father. Most men wouldn’t have bothered pushing the issue, but Keir clearly wasn’t most men. He wasn’t about to back down, and my father must have sensed it.
“I suppose a quick visit to your grandparents won’t be a problem.” His eyes cut to mine, and I wondered what this would mean for me. No doubt I’d find out later once our guest had left.
My hand absently covered the cuff bracelet I’d worn over my right wrist all day to hide the mottled bruising.
“Tell me, Noemi, do you have any hobbies or interests?” Keir asked, putting an end to the debate.
Music. I used to sing all the time but only for myself.I tried to write extra neat, feeling an inexplicable need to gain the Irish mobster’s respect. Something about him induced a desire to impress.
