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Cillian smirks. Lieutenant O’Reilly chuckles behind me.
“Sixfigures? You’re missing a couple of zeros there, my dear. I suppose Mr. Kildare was too modest to tell you the full extent of his generosity.”
Wait, what?
He reaches past me to clap a firm hand on Cillian’s shoulder.
“I have to thank you personally, Mr. Kildare. We’re going to put that thirty million to good use.”
What. The. Fuck.
“I have no doubt you will, Dan.” Cillian smiles coldly, his eyes lancing into me like venom-tipped knives. “You know, I hear violent crime is on the rise these days in our fair city. Stabbings and such.”
I swallow as his eyes captivate mine, unblinking.
“Bunch of fucking savages out there, I’ll tell you, Mr. Kildare,” Lieutenant O’Reilly sighs sympathetically. “Just the other night, actually, they found a couple of low-lifes in a chop-shop garage. Seems to be gang related. Two shot, one with his throat cut. One poor bastard had his hand drilled clean through by a goddamn press drill, can you imagine? And a couple of other apparent low-lifes got cut just the other night by the corner of 11thand West 44th.”
I go cold.
That’s my block…
“Terrible,” Cillian murmurs, shaking his head, but keeping his eyes glued to mine all the while. “You just never know who or what’s out there, waiting to stab you in the back.” His eyes narrow. “Or the side.”
I swallow thickly as he turns to flash a winning, practiced smile at Lieutenant O’Reilly.
“Well, lieutenant, if you don’t mind…”
“Oh, no, of course, Mr. Kildare. Enjoy your evening, and thank you again for your generosity.”
“Of course.”
“Pleasure to meet you, miss,” Lieutenant O’Reilly says politely before turning and hustling away.
I gasp as Cillian instantly grabs my hand and my waist. Before I know it, I’m whirling as he spins me out onto the dance floor. I try to pull away, but his grip is like iron, digging into my flesh and yanking me hard against his chest.
I tremble as my eyes lift to see him towering over me as he pins me to his rock-hard body.
“Please,” he smiles thinly. “I’m begging you. Try something stupid.”
I gasp again as he suddenly twirls me in time with the waltz music coming from the small orchestra across the room. Then I’m choking on my breath again as he yanks me back hard against his chest.
Suddenly, his hand leaves mine, darting to my hair.
“Ow!”
I wince as he grabs a handful of it before plucking the clasp from my dark locks and yanking it free. He gives it a quick flick, glaring at it when a blade doesn’t slip out.
“Happy?”
He says nothing as he slips it into his jacket pocket, turning to eye my hair as it tumbles around my bare shoulders.
“Were they out of blonde?” he says in a clipped, dark tone, the Irish lilt to it teasing over my skin.
My heart skips as he twirls me once more, bringing me back against his chest again afterward.
“Hiding behind cops, are you?”
He smiles and arches a brow.
