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“She’s not your responsibility.”
“She’s like a daughter to me.”
I don’t know exactly how old Fiona Rogers is, but she’s not a kid.
“Why?” I demand.
“It’s complicated.”
“No, probably not. Just like why I won’t let you leave, the answer is pretty fucking straightforward.”
Irina exhales softly. “You’re different tonight.”
“I haven’t seen you in weeks. I worried you might be dead. Apparently, that shit’s a big deal for me, but not for you.”
Irina’s blue eyes lose their edge, turning soft and sad. “I thought you’d reject me when I got here.”
“Because you work for that asshole?”
“Among other things.”
“What things?”
“You’re so sexy, Eagle. I see the way women look at you. I know I’m lucky to keep your attention.”
Her inability to see her worth digs at my resolve. I get the urge to back down and take her to bed. We can talk later. No more questions.
Rubbing my forearm raw, I mutter, “I feel unsettled.”
“Maybe we can...” She trails off before gesturing to the king-sized bed in the corner of the large room.
“If I fuck you, I won’t be able to hold the line.”
“Or you might think more clearly.”
“No, I’m struggling enough now.”
“Why?”
“I told you.”
As Irina studies my face, I feel her pulling me apart and examining everything I hold important. Finally, she says, “I don’t think you really believed I was dead.”
“Okay, then,” I mutter and shrug like a pissy kid. “I thought you’d been a lie. Or you’d lost interest.”
“After Marky Rogers died, I couldn’t pretend I wanted to see a movie or go to the mall. There was no way to sneak over here.”
“Why can’t you just tell them the truth?”
“How would I explain I’ve fallen for a biker who rides with the club they view as an enemy?”
“Is that what they tell you?”
“I put some things together on my own. They don’t really talk to me. I’m usually in the guesthouse with Fiona.”
“And you can’t leave her.”
“Iwon’tleave her, Eagle.”
