Page 33 of Reckless Seduction
I nod as much as I can with the harsh grip he has on the back of my neck.
“Good.”
He lets go of my neck. His mouth turns down slightly at the edges when I ease away from him, but his face remains hard.
“He’s not like that,” I whisper, my hand massaging where he gripped me. Seamus hadn’t gripped me tight enough to bruise, but it still wasn’t pleasant. It also didn’t stop my panties from being soaked through at his sudden display of dominance. My thighs are clenched together beneath the table, and I am glad that no one seems to notice my body’s sudden arousal.
I really need that lobotomy after all.
Maybe electroshock therapy.
“He is,” Kiernan insists lowly.
No. My father is a good man. He’s never been my knight in shining armor, but he is still my father.
“I may not know a lot about his political career, but I know one thing for sure. He’s not a murderer. And he sure as hell isn’t in bed with any gangs. He’s been trying to run the gangs and mafia out of the city. That’s his whole political stance.”
“That is what he sells to the press, Bailey.” Kiernan’s tone is gentle. “Your family has been involved with local gangs since long before your father became a senator. Your own grandfather moved and manipulated many of the gangs in the city to do his dirty work.”
“No.”
“We’ve had proof of it for a very long time,” Seamus says. “We can show you everything. His deals run deep. From embezzlement of charity funds to gunrunning. Even human trafficking and drug distribution.”
Human trafficking and drug distribution.
My father would never be involved in any of that. These people are tainting his name, trying to get me to turn against the man who took me in when my mother abandoned me. The man who kept me when he could have easily given me to the system. Even if he doesn’t want people to know about our true relation, he still adopted me. Claimed me.
“Tell us about his deal with Magnus Knight,” Kiernan urges. “Help us and we can help you.”
I lift my gaze from where it’s been focused on the table to his emerald gaze. He isn’t pleading. Isn’t begging. His eyes are hard, but there is something I don’t recognize behind that stern façade. Something that makes my gut churn with butterflies. Something I refuse to name.
Fuck this.
Two simple words I don’t realize I’ve uttered aloud until Ava chuckles and Kiernan’s gaze darkens murderously. He reaches for me, and in my panic, I do the only thing I can think of.
I hit him with my empty coffee mug and run.
ELEVEN
Shit.Shit Shit.
Kiernan’s heavy footsteps echo ominously against the wooden floors as he stalks after me. His father’s voice calls after him, a stern warning, but he ignores it as he continues on his mission. I turn, just barely, to glance at the monster who haunts my footsteps. His emerald eyes are cold, darkness surging through their crystalline depths.
With frenzied hands, I press the button of the elevator, willing it with all my might to open. Maybe, if I am lucky, it will let me down to the main floor without needing a fingerprint.
Fuck. Why isn’t it opening?
“Mo fraochÚn beag.” His voice is thick with anger, his accent slightly harsher when he utters the familiar Gaelic words that are still a mystery to me.He’s probably calling me his little sex slave or some shit.Panicked, my eyes bulge as his broad, muscled frame strides toward me with determined steps. Backing away from the elevator, I hold my hands up in surrender.
“Wait…” I stammer. “Please. I’m sorry…”
Kiernan’s silence frightens me more than if he were to threaten me. He takes another long step and then another,closing the distance between us with ease. Before I can think to dart away, he bends down and presses his shoulder into my stomach, lifting me.
The world turns topsy-turvy, my hair falling around my face like a curtain.
“Put me down,” I cry out, my fists pounding on his muscled back. Not that it does any good. The man is built like a champion linebacker. How many hours has he spent in the gym to get like this? “Ow.” His hand comes down harshly on the curve of my ass.
Even through the material of my leggings, it burns. Tears blur my vision, threatening to flow. I won’t give him the satisfaction. He doesn’t get my tears. Not when he is the one acting like a brute.
