Page 35 of Vengeful Devotion
“I have a better idea.”
“What?”
“Do you trust me, Gemma?”
The way he utters my name makes me shiver. “I don’t know yet.”
“Fair enough. Will you give me a chance? There’s something I want to show you.”
He steps back far enough to extend his hand towards me. You would think I would hesitate before taking hold of his hand, but I don’t. Watching Declan protect me tonight, my resolve and determination to stay away crumbled. It might as well have been hit with a sledgehammer.
Declan leads me out of the storage room. Locked hand in hand, we step out into the nippy night air. The chill sends a shiver down my spine. Declan stops. He releases my hand, the loss of warmth making it feel like the temperature dropped drastically. I open my mouth to protest, but before I can, he’s slipping his suit jacket over my shoulders.
“Relax, bláth fiáin. I’m just keeping you warm,” He says as he kisses the side of my head. “No need to get upset.”
His hand finds mine again, pulling me towards his car. Danny is out of the car before we even get to it. I rode here with him earlier tonight, but he wouldn’t come in. Now, I guess I know why. He’s on duty. Danny goes to open the backdoor, but Declan stops him.
“I’ll be driving us tonight, Danny.”
“Oh. Are you sure?”
Declan’s hand twitches, slightly squeezing mine. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just that I’m supposed to ensure Gemma makes it home. Your mother’s orders.”
Declan steps closer to him. “You don’t work for my mother. You work for me. Would you still like to question me?”
Danny’s jaw clenches. His face a mix of fear and anger. “No, sir.”
“Remember your place, Danny.”
Danny moves away from the door, stomping his way into the building.
Declan opens the passenger door for me. “Tonight, you’re riding up front and don’t even think about arguing with me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Bréagandóir.”
I settle into the cushy seat. “What does that mean?”
“Liar.”
He shuts the door with a smirk on his face. I watch him walk to the driver’s side. Admiring him with every step. I let him get settled in and pull the car from the curb before I ask him the question that’s been on my tongue since the storage closet.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“In my experience, a surprise isn’t a good thing.”
“My mother teach you that?”
“What? No. I just don’t like surprises.”
“Oh.”
“Why would Francine teach me that surprises are bad?”
