Page 45 of Mine
‘Why?’
‘It seems like a waste when the whole thing is a farce.’ She motions to the clothes she’s wearing. ‘Plus, you’ve already spent so much.’
What’s not a farce is how much I want to kiss her again. To taste her. To touch her. To make her mine, properly mine.
‘You’re about to become a Kincaid, in front of my entirefamily, friends, and acquaintances. We’re going to have to convince them that this is real between us, if you want the protection of The Syndicate. That includes going on honeymoon. Besides, when the news breaks, it’ll be safer if we’re out of the city.’
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. ‘I don’t have my passport.’
‘I do.’ I take another drink. ‘Cathal went to your house right after I brought you here.’
‘You’ve thought of everything.’ She smooths a hand over her dress, and my eyes are drawn to the womanly curves of her body.
‘I’ve thought of lots of things.’
Her eyes swim with heat and hunger. She knows exactly what I’m referring to. That adorable blush creeping into her cheeks again proves it.
‘I’m taking you away for a couple of weeks until the dust settles. It’s non-negotiable. Leave it to me. I’ll surprise you.’
‘You already are,’ she says quietly.
I push myself off the counter, while I still can, because while she’s looking at me like that, I can’t stop fantasising about all the other ways I’d like to surprise her—naked.
I stalk out before I do something stupid like pin her down and fuck her into next week.
20
AOIFE
Isteal down the stairs in search of my morning coffee. Dawn has barely broken. The sky is a stunning shade of pink. I’m not normally a morning person. Never have been, but with the wedding fast approaching, sleep refuses to return.
The evenings with Dominic have become the highlight of my day. I spend hours watching the clock in the kitchen, alternating between scrolling through incriminating articles on the internet about the man I’m engaged to, and scrolling recipes looking for the next dish to impress him.
How fucked up is that?
But when his dark eyes light as he devours whatever I’ve made that day, it stirs things deep inside my stomach. Things that are getting increasingly harder to fight.
I creep into the kitchen in search of caffeine and startle at the sight of Dominic standing at the coffee machine—naked, bar a pair of ass-sculpting black boxer briefs.
My mouth waters as I scan the powerful muscles of his broad shoulders. The way his huge physique tapers in at his waistline. The way the black cotton stretches over thesmooth globes of his ass cheeks. Dark hair dusts his thick thighs.
Oh. My. God.
Saliva floods my tongue.
‘I didn’t expect to see you for another couple of hours,’ he remarks, without turning around.
I didn’t expect to see him at all—not like this anyway. He’s usually in his gym, or tucked away in his office by the time I come downstairs.
I glance down at the tiny shorts and tank set clinging to my curves. I didn’t even think to put a bra on, and my treacherous nipples are protruding like twin bullets as I drink in every decadent detail, from the hard ridges of his abs, to the tattoo splayed over his prominent pecs. My delinquent eyes drop to his crotch. I know nothing about male anatomy, but his looks enormous.
He’s fucking beautiful.
Beautiful and deadly.
I swallow thickly. ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ I blurt. ‘I feel edgy.’
‘Is there anything I can do to help with that?’ His lips tip upwards as his pupils home in on my breasts through his thick glasses. ‘Say the word, Aoife.’ My name rolls from his tongue in a deep voice that sets arousal flooding between my legs.
