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We walked through an open white door, and I found myself in the Dining Room. Through the glass that covered two walls, I could see the groomed rose gardens and paved pathways that led to bird baths and marble fountains.
I was on the far end of the table, and across from me sat Eoghan Green. The strange off-brand copy of my Brit. His short, blonde hair was longer than I anticipated. It was parted on the side and waved over his forehead, then ending with a slight curl around his ears. He wore a dashing gray-blue suit, and he was toying with a whiskey glass in his hand.
“Welcome to my home, Miss Legaspi.” His voice was throaty, but there was something in the way he sang the vowels that gave away his Irish origins. His bulging, brown eyes gave him the appearance of a snake.
Keep your face numb.I reminded myself. I lifted my chin in acknowledgment ,then looked at the other occupants of the room.
To his right was Martin from the other day. He smirked at me in amusement. I pulled my eyes to the man on Eoghan’s left and Ifoughtto keep myself from gasping. It washim.Cian.
I kept my breathing steady and tore my gaze from his icy blue eyes. I felt their cold burn on my cheek as he studied me, his hand on the table relaxed, waiting.
“Eoghan,” I said with a smirk, going for casual. “Can I call you Eoghan?”
“Sure,” he said, smiling in amusement, and with a wave of his hand, dismissed my guard escort.
I strolled over to the window, my hands casually going into my pocket. I looked out at the garden and spied two cameras on either side pointing towards me. Brett had a clear line of sight to me. That gave me comfort, and confidence.
I gave the cameras the barest nod. Brett would see it. Then I turned and put a hand on my hip and in my most delicious, arrogant voice said, “You have something of mine. I’d like it back.”
“Oh?” Eoghan feigned shock, his eyebrows lifted high. The British man…myBritish man… was glowering. I saw the tension at his fingertips as he tried not to clench his fists. “And what might that be, love?”
I raised a brow at the term of endearment. “My coach.”
Eoghan leaned back in his seat, bouncing a little on the backrest. He chuckled, and bit his lower lip.
“Well done.” He slowly clapped exactly three times before his hands came down on the table. “But finder’s keepers.”
I crossed my arms and tilted my head.
“Now, now,” I said playfully. “I found him first.”
“I found him last.” He looked satisfied.
My smile faltered, but then I tilted my head.
“Here’s how this is going to work.” I told him, raising my hand to the level of my shoulder, out to the side. I put up one finger. “You’re going to give me LeBlanc. Then,” I put up a second finger. “You’re going to let me walk out of here with him.” Then I put my palm face up and shrugged. “That’s it. That’s all.”
He let out a low, almost maniacal laugh.
“Are you threatening me, lass?” Then his smile melted away as if he had removed a mask. He stood up quickly, the chair falling back and bouncing against the floor. In a flash, a gun was in his hand and pointed right at me.
It was a .40 Smith & Wesson, black and matted at the handle with a silver slider. I stared down the barrel of the gun. My face was numb. Just as Brett had taught me.
Slowly, ever so slowly, my British man got to his feet. The blazer of his dark gray suit was unbuttoned.
“Eoghan,” He said slowly, as though soothing a skittish horse. “Put it down.”
Eoghan and I ignored him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warned.
“For fuck’s sake, Rose, shut up,” said the Brit. I flashed him an angry look before my face settled back into its neutral position.
“For one, if anything happens to me, then your power grid will go out.” I smiled as though I was giving him the best news possible. “The lights will turn off. So will your cameras and all the security features you have.”
“What the fuck?” Eoghan said through gritted teeth.
“Rose!” Cian said in warning, but I paid him no mind.
