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“Here. Dublin.”

“Then it makes sense why you’ve always wanted to come.”

I nod, a lump rising in my throat. “The original distillery went out of business when the whiskey market crashed, and my great-grandfather brought his family over during Prohibition. They ended up in New Orleans, and he started making bootleg whiskey because no one would hire him to do anything else.”

“It must be nice to know where you came from.”

I tear my gaze from the window and look at him, but Mount has already turned away. I recall the story I’ve heard about him, that he was abandoned as a baby in front of a church. I’ve always wondered if it’s true, and his statement makes me think it absolutely is.

“I googled you, you know.” I never intended to admit it, but it slips out.

He shifts, locking his attention on me again. “And?”

“There was nothing. Nothing at all. How is that even possible?”

“Money. Power. My desire for privacy. Other peoples’ fear.”

“Have you ever turned that money and power in the direction of finding your roots?”

His expression turns dark. “No, and I never will.”

“Why not?” I know I should leave it alone, and yet I can’t help but ask the question.

“Because who gave birth to me doesn’t have fuck-all to do with who I am or what I do.”

I let the topic lapse and stare out the window again, soaking up Dublin as we turn onto narrow streets before crossing the River Liffey. But my excitement is dampened by Mount’s answer.

I can’t imagine what it must have felt like to be abandoned. To know that your parents didn’t want you. My father always wanted a son and got three daughters instead, and it was bad enough knowing that growing up. But in comparison, my childhood was an absolute dream compared to Mount’s.

For the first time, when I look at his profile, I don’t see the devil in a suit who has the power to turn my body against me and mess with my head. Instead, I see a man who must have fought overwhelming odds to get to where he is today. I have no idea how he built the empire he rules, and I doubt the question would be well-received.

Who would have guessed that it only took one trans-Atlantic flight and a drive through the city I’ve dreamed of visiting my whole life to realize that Lachlan Mount isn’t a myth or a legend. He’s just a man. A dangerous one, certainly, but still just a man.

It changes nothing, I tell myself, but I’m not sure I believe it.

We reach the tall hotel with ornate Victorian architecture and are escorted immediately to a massive suite.

“Your luggage will be delivered directly, sir,” the concierge tells him as Mount hands him a large bill.

He carries euros? Between the jet and the service, I’m beginning to realize that regardless of the city or country we’re in, Mount’s life is completely different from mine.

Another thought occurs to me. “I have luggage?” He already shocked me by having my passport.

“Of course. G assembled a wardrobe for you and had it delivered to the jet before you arrived. I was assured that you’ll have everything you need, but if you don’t, you can buy it here.”

Mount’s posture stiffens as though he’s expecting an argument from me, but he’s way off base.

“Are you kidding? I’m in Dublin, a city I’ve wanted to see since I was a kid, and for a conference where I could learn things and make connections that can take Seven Sinners to the next level. I’m not going to waste time being picky about clothes when there’s so much to see and do. As long as he didn’t pack only lingerie, I couldn’t care less.”

Mount eyes me like I’ve grown a second head. “You are nothing like any other woman I’ve ever met.”

His expression turns unreadable, and I have no idea how to respond. Thankfully, a knock on the door puts a halt to that conversation.

After our luggage is delivered into the bedroom of the suite, the bellhop faces us. “Is there anything else you require, sir? We’re at your service.”

Mount turns to me. “What do you want to eat? You must be starving.”

It’s morning here, obviously, but to me it’s still the middle of the night. “I don’t know what meal we should be eating right now.”