Page 18 of Mine

My gaze slides up her soft, tanned legs to the little shadowed V between the dress and the crease of her thighs, and then to a trim waist and pair of perky, round breasts that make my dick twitch. To the long black hair that I want to fist, to the pair of red lips that make me want to chew off my own arm. To the cute button nose, and finally, to those hooded blue eyes that drew me in like a siren’s call.

The moment I saw this woman, I had to have her. Period. It was like finding something that I’d been desperately looking for my entire life but didn’t know I was looking for it. When our eyes met, one single word materialized in my head?—

Mine.

During the poker game, I couldn’t keep my attention off her. Here I am, her aura called to me. You’ve finally found me.

In the most inappropriate ways, and at the most inappropriate time, this stranger dominated me. It was both unnerving and incredibly intriguing—and sexy as hell. I can’t remember the last time someone distracted me to the point that they had an advantage over me. This made me want her even more.

Though now, I’m guessing the attraction is no longer mutual, because the blue eyes that once held such longing are now murderous. Cillian’s mother must have hated him.

I clear my throat and look away.

“Remind me again why you took her?” Cillian mutters.

“Because you’d be planning my funeral if I hadn’t.” I flatten my palms on my thighs to keep from fidgeting like I want to. “Also, she’s going to be my ticket to get Valerie’s body back.”

Cillian takes a moment to speak. Only he knows about the clandestine trip to the location of my mother’s plane crash, where I spent eight hours sifting through rubble in the pouring rain to find just one of my mother’s bones, so that I could give her a proper burial. Only Cillian knows that I sat outside the medical examiner’s office for eighteen hours straight, from the moment my daughter’s body arrived, until the moment she was released to us.

Cillian thinks I don’t address death. I do.

I bury it.

“How old do you think she is?” He takes another glance over his shoulder.

I shrug. Jesus, it’s hot in here.

“She barely looks eighteen. It makes me uncomfortable.”

I shift in my seat.

“Do you think she’s Carlos’s daughter?”

“Mistress, probably. Maybe wife.”

“My bet’s on his daughter. What’s her name?”

I shrug again.

Cillian gapes. “You don’t know the name of the girl you just kidnapped?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know we had kidnapping protocol. Anyway ...” I dismiss him with a wave of my hand. “Talk. She can’t hear us.”

He settles back. “I was asking about Carlos. Tell me everything. I know nothing about him. Start at the beginning.”

“Carlos and I go way back.”

“How far back?”

“High school.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. He’s always hated me—maybe I should say we’ve always hated each other. One of those ridiculous school-age rivalries.”

“How did the rivalry start?”

“I fucked his girlfriend.”

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