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“Me neither. Why is it so easy to kiss you?”
“It’s because I look like Cormac,” he deadpans. “The question is, why is it so easy for me to kiss you?”
“Because you haven’t been laid in three years?”
“True.” He laughs and kisses my forehead. “I want to change that later, if you’re game.”
“Game on,” I whisper, needing it as much as he does.
“Call me kinky.” He smooths a hand across my stomach. “But I find you so fucking sexy like this.”
His visceral confession has my center throbbing, and I’m suddenly worried about the baby.
“Is sex dangerous at this stage?”
“Good sex is good for the baby at any stage.”
“You’re certain you’re still good at sex?” My nipples strain against the fabric of the sweater.
“Very.” Darragh’s confidence arouses the hell out of me.
I can think of so many reasons why I shouldn’t do this, why I shouldn’t get close to Darragh when he holds all the cards in this relationship. The power imbalance is wide enough.
But damn, I need sex, and I admit, the idea of him taking me heats my blood.
Mostly as a big fuck-you to Cormac. My heart aches for the idiot briefly.
“What are you doing about your brother?”
Darragh’s eyes flutter that I killed the mood as he steps away.
“I’m getting his case thrown out on the basis of him going into remanded rehab.”
“Remanded?”
“Forced. He won’t be able to leave.”
“He won’t like that.”
“He gave up that right when he got you pregnant, forced you to commit crimes with him, and made you live in that hovel.” Darragh’s passionate words kick me in the heart.
“Is it that he did it to me, the Russian princess? Or just any woman?”
Darragh thinks about that.
“I know we’re enemies back home. But you don’t know my family. We respect women. Sure, my brothers use sex clubs, escorts, and have one-night stands, but all with full consent. And before they get married. Not after. My father treats my mother like gold. I’m much younger than my brothers, but Kieran had a long-time girlfriend who walked on water in his eyes.” He looks down. “It destroyed him when she died.”
I’d heard about the new Irish king who suffered a terrible loss and refuses to love again. It strikes me how long I’ve been gone.
“I have something I need to tell you.” I swallow, nervous about opening up to Darragh.
“Considering what I do know…” He dumps his ass into a kitchen island stool. “Whatever you’re holding back can’t be worse. Go ahead.”
“Dante Caruso helped me escape. He gave me a fake ID and the phone your brother later stole.” I take a seat next to Darragh. “I know I made what happened look like a kidnapping. But it’s been over two years. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I have a trust fund. Will you get in touch with Dante to—”
“Dante Caruso is dead.”
“What?” My throat goes tight.
