“You know my opinion.” Conor sighs and crosses his arms over his chest.
Kaden drains his glass, his graying hair glinting white in the sunlight pouring through the high windows behind him. “You’ve given your opinion. I took it into consideration and made my decision.”
Conor scowls. “The McKibbon name should only mix with others like us. The O’Donnell clan has been angling for an alliance, and you know they’re much more on our level. They’re far more appropriate for—”
“It is my bloodline.” Kaden slams his glass down, his Irish accent growing stronger right along with his anger. “And I don’t want the O’Donnells, Conor. I want Lord Sutcliffe. My daughter will be Lady Sutcliffe. That is what will bring honor to me, to my name, to our family—not to mention the inroads we can make with the London syndicate.”
Conor seems taken aback at the vehemence in Kaden’s voice.
I’m not. I’ve known all along that Kaden is looking for more than just a strategic alliance that would strengthen his position in our world. He’s looking to move into an entirely different stratosphere. I know plenty about him and his aspirations. What he doesn’t know about me, though, is that I’m an O’Donnell.
There’s no way in hell my family is going to let his form an alliance with the Sutcliffes. It’s a foolish aspiration, one that could bring a lot of attention to our corner of the underworld. Kaden is a threat to everything our families built in this country since we first arrived fresh off the boat. He’s reckless, cold, and arrogant. Pride before the fall and all that.
“And you—” Kaden points at me. “I called you in here because I want you to keep my daughter safe and sound. The Sutcliffes are expecting a virgin, and they had better get one.” His brows lower, stormclouds over his beady green eyes. “Keep your dick in your pants, and so help me if you let any man so much as sneeze in her direction, I’ll have your balls in a jar. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” I give him a stern nod.
“Two weeks. We just have to make it two more weeks, and everything will fall into place.” He pours himself another drink.
Conor takes a drag on his cigarette and joins Kaden at the bar cart. They may disagree, but the two of them have been in business together for far too long to let any rancor come between them.
“Join with the O’Donnells?” Kaden shakes his head but pours Conor a drink. “The head on you, Jesus Christ.”
“What are you shiteing on about?” Conor takes his glass. “I’ve given up. Wouldn’t want to stand in the way of having a Lady Sutcliffe.”
They chuckle conspiratorially as I back out of the room.
“Don’t forget what I said, Cillian.” Kaden turns that sharp gaze on me. “Untouched.”
“Yes, sir.” I nod again and close the door as Maria struts up, her long hair swinging behind her.
“Cillian,” she simpers and walks up to me.
“Can I help you, miss?” I can’t stand her, never could. Every time she says something cutting to Cara—I literally have imagined choking her out multiple times. She thinks she’s hot shit, but she’s nothing compared to Cara.
“I’ve been wondering when you’d spend some time keeping me safe. That’s your job, right? A bodyguard?” She reaches out and runs her fingers down my lapel.
I grab her hand and push it away. “I’m here to do a job. Nothing more.”
Her overly-large lips form a puffy pout. “You don’t want to do a job on me?”
“I’m here to protect Cara. Just Cara.” I step to her.
She looks up, her spidery lashes long as she gives me what must be her “bedroom eyes.” I think about crushing her throat in my palm. “And I protect all of her, Miss Maria. So the next time you decide to mention her weight or her eating habits, I’ll have to do my job.”
She blinks, as if she isn’t sure she heard me correctly. “Um, excuse me?”
“No one hurts Cara. Not on my fucking watch.” I step around her and continue down the hall as she sputters behind me.
Her seduction routine may have trapped Kaden, but I’ve got nothing but disdain for that fake bitch. She’s always been jealous of Cara. How could she not be? Cara is everything sweet, pure, and luscious in this fucking world. Curves for days, innocence that can’t be faked.
Fuck. I run a hand down my face as I take position outside Cara’s door. I need to be more careful. Maria’s a snake. Taunting her isn’t a good idea, but I can’t stand the way she treats my girl. Wait, I mean, my client. Cara is not my girl, never will be. In fact, I’m here for completely different reasons and—
Cara’s scream cuts through my inner musings. I’m through her door before I can blink, and what I find inside wipes all rational thought from my mind. Holy fucking shit.
4
Cara
I scream as my vagina is violated. I was so sure my ass would hurt more. I was shocked it didn't. I close my eyes and grit my teeth in anticipation of the pain I know is about to come again.
“Breathe.”
Breathe? Really? I let out another scream, praying this is almost over. I can’t believe my stepsister talked me into this.
I should have known better when she suggested it. I bet she’s downstairs having a grand old time with my father or flirting with Cillian while I’m up here being tortured.
My bedroom door explodes in before my giver of ultimate pain has the opportunity to strike again. I turn my head to see who the hell is bursting in here. I guess Cillian isn’t downstairs flirting with my stepsister after all. The look of rage he’s currently donning quickly contorts to one of confusion.
The woman who is holding the wax strip she just pulled off me turns to see what the heck is going on. I’m sure she’s about to piss herself when she sees Cillian. Everyone else seems to be intimidated by him except for me. I grab the strip from her hand to hide it. Embarrassing much?
“What the hell is going on in here? Are you okay, Cara?” If I didn’t know any better, I would think his concern for me was genuine. But it’s not. I'm a job, and if I die or get hurt it’s his ass on the line.
I sit up and pull the blanket over myself. My sex is throbbing and not in the way it usually does when Cillian is near me. I watch as he stalks closer to the bed, needing to get a closer look.
“I wax her,” the woman tells him as she takes a step back and bumps into my nightstand. “She's all done.”
“Get out,” he bellows at her. The woman quickly grabs some of her stuff and runs from the room. Cillian stomps after her but stops when he gets to my bedroom door. He slams it closed before flipping the lock.
He rests his hand on the door, and his head drops forward as his eyes close. He looks as though he’s trying to get himself under control. I love when he gets worked up over me.
This time I didn’t even do it on purpose. I know my actions sometimes make it harder for him to do his job, but it turns me on to see him that way. Knowing that I can get all that control he has to splinter makes me ache between my thighs.
I don’t know how long we sit like this. I wait until his breathing gets more even before I speak to him.