Page 10 of Savage Guardian

“Huh? What was that?” Carrie asked, confusion making her brow wrinkle. It would have been adorable if her words hadn’t struck him wrong. How could shenotknow what he’d just said? It was a word used in several of the songs she’d written.

Opening his mouth to comment, he was silenced by another voice he hadn’t expected to hear.

“My dear,” the voice said, making him flick his gaze over Carrie’s shoulder toward the door he hadn’t even noticed had opened or closed.

Shit, fuck! What a great job he was doing of being alert so far. Someone had slipped into the room without him taking notice, and that shit wouldn’t do.

“What?” Carrie snipped, tossing her golden hair as she pursed her lips.

“That’s w-what he s-said.Mo ghràdh. He c-called you ‘my dear,’ wh-which is what you call s-someone you want to be f-friendly with,” the other woman answered, red-cheeked face ducked to hide her features from him. “Which is d-different frommo chridhe, which means ‘my heart’, which is what one calls the object of their affection.”

“What are you stuttering about now?” Carrie sneered, her voice sharp.

The woman swallowed slowly, then replied, “Le uile bhuille mo chridhe is aon sinn.”

“With every beat of my heart, we are one,” Hawk recited numbly.

Those words were lyrics he knew by heart.

They were Aoibheal’s lyrics.

Hawk stared at the strange woman, surprised. Little surprised him these days, and he hated and appreciated it. Her English was marred with regrettable a stutter, but…her Gaelic was perfect.

That didn’t stop the spear of his anger, however.

His gaze trained on the interloper, immediately taking in her average height, her shapeless clothes, her pin straight red-blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, the freckles that were sprinkled heavily over her upper cheeks and across the bridge of her nose, and the fact that she was carrying a large bag.

If Carrie was a fairy queen, this woman would be a field mouse.

“Who’re you?” he snapped, rising to his full height to stare down at the woman who’d finally dragged her eyes up to meet his gaze.

An invisible hammer slammed into his sternum, knocking his heart into his guts.

Eyes the color of the richest, smokiest whisky scorched into his, making his breath catch at the burn.

Fuuuuck. What the hell wasthat?

Seeming to hear his bellowed thoughts, Carrie answered, “That’s my stepsister, Fae McCabe. My assistant.” She flipped her hand in Fae’s direction, rolling her eyes. “Nepotism and all that. Figured that since she wasn’t doing anything in Olsen, she could come with, and fetch coffee and whatever. At least she’d have a job, ya know. Once I knew my music was going to make it big, I figured that—as her older, supportive sister—I’d bring her along. Slide her some perks once in a while, ya know?”

Behind her sister, Fae’s gaze burned a hole into Carrie’s back, her face pinched with silent annoyance and…was that…jealousy?

Maybe she’s pissed she has to ride her sister’s coattails, and would rather haveallthe perks for herself.It wouldn’t be the first time a family member morphed into a parasite at the first signs of money or power. He’d seen it enough times in his own family—having an actual Scottish earl as a father.

And a greedy traitor for a brother.

Perhaps Fae was mad because she wanted what her sister had and hated her for it.

Even as the words finished forming in his brain, he shook them off. They didn’t…feelright.

But what the hell did he know?

“She’s an okay assistant,” Carrie continued, unaware of her sister’s displeasure, “but—thestutter, ya know. Makes it hard to get things done quick. Good thing running errands and fetching coffee don’t require talking, right?” She tittered a laugh that was probably supposed to sound delightful, when in reality it sounded dissonant.

Shaking off a sense of unease, Hawk took a step closer to the smaller woman and held out a hand. Professionalism cost him nothing, and he needed to know who was in closest contact with Carrie, and that meant making “friends” with the sister. Then getting AFK on her trail.

“Fae, I’m Hawk, head of your sister’s security,” he offered, waiting for her to take his hand. She stared at it, then glanced up at him, swallowed, then slipped her much smaller hand into his.

Lightning thrilled through his fingers, kissing his nerve endings to dance through his arm and into his chest.

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