Page 8 of All We Want

Declan's eyes hold a lingering intensity as the final notes of our dance fade into the night. He smiles, a predatory curve that plays at the corners of his lips. "You fit perfectly in my arms, Scarlette," he remarks, his gaze unwavering.

I meet his smile with a raised eyebrow, unable to suppress a comment that danced on the edge of my thoughts. "That smile of yours," I say, "it's almost like that of a wolf, cunning and sly."

His smile deepens, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Observant as always, Ms. Monroe. The wolf is a fittin’ comparison. Should I start callin’ ya Little Red Ridin’ Hood?"

A chuckle escapes me, the tension between us pulsating with a mixture of danger and intrigue. "I don't recall ever needing saving from a wolf, Mr. Blackstone. Besides, I can handle myself in the woods."

Declan's gaze bore into mine, the wolfish smile persisting. "I have no doubt ‘bout that. Perhaps the woods are where da real adventure begins. Let’s say Little Red stumbled into the wrong cottage. Should da big bad wolves eat ‘er alive or let ‘er go.”

His question holds layers beyond the surface, and I couldn't help but be intrigued. “It depends on the kind of 'eating' you're referring to, but I’m sure I could get behind either scenario.”

In response, he chuckles, the glint of humor still dancing in his eyes. His fingers, warm and firm, brush distractingly against the skin of my back, sending heat through my entire body.

“What if Red already possesses what she needs and slips away before the big bad wolves even catch her scent?” I ask, my tone carrying a subtle blend of challenge and amusement.

“Are ya sure ‘bout that?” he inquires, a sly smile playing on his lips that turns the question into a tantalizing proposition.

“Yep, pretty sure.”

Suddenly, I find myself pressed firmly against him. His face draws close, his breath grazing my neck, and his lips brushing softly against the shell of my ear.

“And I be pretty sure the wolves have ya scent now, and ya don’ have what ya need anymore,” he murmurs.

I attempt to pull away, but his fingers dig firmly into the skin of my back where they rested during our dance. After momentary resistance, he lets go, and I edge away, endeavoring to mask both my body's reaction to his touch and my mind's response to his words.

The savage grin he flashes only accelerates my racing heartbeat. An urgent need to escape, to return home and ensure the safety of the USB, grips me. Yet, it feels as though I am immobilized under the weight of his attention.

Declan reaches out a hand, his fingers sliding against my skin. Gripping my throat he pulls me toward him until our faces were hovering so very close together. His lips brush mine, sending tingles through my entire body.

“‘Till next time, little red.”

Suddenly released, I watch his retreating back, left bewildered by the whirlwind of sensations and wondering what the fuck just happened.

I rush home with a sense of urgency gnawing at me. The dance lingers in my mind, but the pressing need to ensure the safety of the USB takes precedence.

Upon reaching my house, I fumble with the keys and the security, my hands trembling slightly. As I enter, the dim lights cast an eerie glow on the familiar surroundings. I navigate through the space with a singular purpose, the panic that set in after Declan's departure intensified with each passing second. My mind races through the possible scenarios, but a sinking feeling gnaws at the edges of my thoughts.

I hurry to my office, the heartbeat in my ears drowning out all other sounds. The painting of the queen of diamonds, concealing the safe that housed the USB, looms large before me. I pull it aside, revealing the cold metal of the safe beneath.

Putting in the code and scanning my prints, I open the door and dread settles inside of me. The safe once containing the valuable USB, now stares back at me, empty. The panic transforms into a chilling certainty, and the weight of the situation settles in the pit of my stomach.

A myriad of emotions surge within me—anger, fear, disbelief. How had he managed to take it? The dance, the banter, it all felt like an elaborate distraction, and I fell right into the trap.

In a state of shock and anger I reached for a vase sitting innocently on a nearby table, turning and throwing it clear across the room until it smashes against the far wall. But my focus has already been pulled away from the sight and into the startling green eyes of the man leaning back against my desk. And the gun he’s holding in my direction.

My eyes widen as he chuckles. “Temper, temper, gadaí beag.”

Chapter 7

Scarlette

I can feel my dress pulling against my chest with each deep breath I’m taking. My heart is already racing, but seeing Ronan Blackstone, standing in my office with a gun pointed at me, doesn’t help.

I suppose I should have expected it. They now have the files back, so there is nothing stopping them from eliminating the threat to their empire.

“So he sent you to collect it while he distracted me?” I am annoyed at how stupidly betrayed I feel.

The grin widens across his lips. “'Twas never a matter of him sendin’ me, we are a team. We be just extensions of one another. Just with slightly different personalities.”

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