Page 36 of Lawless Rivals

His hand clamps over my mouth so hard my lips crush against my teeth. My back hits the stall boards and his body cages mine, solid muscle pinning me in place, his heartbeat thundering against my ribs.

I twist beneath him, anger rushing through me. In a moment of defense, I jab my fingers into the bandage where I’d patched him up.

The grunt leaving the back of his throat is low and vicious. His body jerks, but he doesn’t retreat. Instead, he crushes me harder into the corner.

“Don’t,” he snarls, voice raw and dangerously close to losing control.

“Get. Off. Me,” I pant.

“Do not test me, Harrington.”

I thrash once, but he presses harder, his thigh locking my legs in place, his chest a wall of heat and power.

“Try to scream again,” he whispers, “and I won’t humor you anymore. This rare glimpse of compassion toward ya will end. Are we clear?”

A traitorous spark ignites in my veins. The sheer proximity of him has my core throbbing. His body pinned to mine is heat and muscle and danger.

Despite the pitiful ache building, I continue to glare, telling myself the rush is adrenaline. But every time I wriggle, it only causes friction that makes my skin tingle.

When the footfall grows louder, Saint’s head turns a fraction, his muscles bracing. Then Rafe’s voice cuts through the rising tension.

“I told ya,” he calls out, “Saint’s not here. He took a new mare up to the north field. Won’t be back for hours. Ma’s in the main house if ya want to call in, and Sera’s at Eilish’s place.”

A female Garda officer responds. “You seen Alasdair Harrington’s girl. Keira went missing during the gala. There’s a rumor about her running off. He thinks she’s been taken.”

As they talk, Saint’s gaze holds mine like he’s trying to work me out. There’s a slight softness in the depths of it, though. A focused intensity that knots low in my stomach and simmers.

The longer we stand pressed together in the shadows, the warmer the air becomes, his full attention raising my temperature.

“Seriously, Aisleen? You think I’d entertain a stuck-up Harrington? You know we’ve nothing but hate for that family. She’s not my type.” After a beat he adds, “Women in uniform are more my thing.”

The female officer lets out an unamused snort. “Whatever you say, Rafe. We still need to look around.”

Saint’s grip tightens over my mouth, and his forehead stays close to mine, both of us breathing deep, heavy breaths.

Footsteps move dangerously close to the stall door. If she looks right, she’ll see us pressed into the corner, and if she listens carefully, she’ll hear the frantic hammering of my heart beating against his chest.

“You’ll need a search warrant, sweetheart,” Rafe replies, all lazy charm and smart arrogance. “Not that we’ve anything to hide. But ya know the law better than anyone. You can’t just wander in on a hunch…or believe everything that comes outta Alasdair’s mouth.”

My chest goes tight.

“Anyway, Harringtons aren’t welcome here.”

“You sure about that?” she asks. “Maybe Saint thought he could charm the girl as part of a vendetta⁠—”

“Nah,” Rafe laughs. “Saint’s into a blonde he met at the track. His times occupied with working and fucking. He’d never bring a Harrington home and risk screwing things up.”

Saint’s eyes hold mine, and his hand stays over my mouth, breath brushing my temple.

I’ve no way of escaping him.

Chapter 10

Keira

Saint doesn’t move.

A radio crackles, and a deep male voice speaks. “Nothing unusual here.”