Page 43 of Forbidden Bond

The answer came in another query from the wingman. “Aye?”

Ah, but this time there was the slightest thread of something else, maybe amusement? Relief? Happiness?

“Aye,” Ire finished.

“Thank fuck.”

Never had Niall’s accent been more welcome than right then.

“What have you got for me?”

Lying down, she closed her eyes. If her guy wanted to check on her, she wouldn’t complain, but she was tired. No one would get to her, not with Conn standing in front of her. She was safe, and wasn’t alone. She had her guy back.

SIXTEEN

WHEN HER EYES next opened, there was silence. The bedroom door was closed too. Sitting up, she yawned and went to explore the closet and the bathroom. The shower washed away so many troubles. The shower? Maybe the man who’d rescued her. No longer apart, all the knots pounding in her muscles disappeared down the drain.

Somehow, and amazingly, women’s clothes were there. Okay, so she didn’t recognize them as hers exactly, but the place was prepped with clothes in her size. Maybe they weren’t for her, they could’ve been left behind by an ex. She still didn’t know where they were. It could be the doctor’s house.

The doctor, or his wife, wouldn’t mind her using them, would they? It was that or strut about in Conn’s shirts for the rest of time. She wouldn’t complain, the guys might, and the enemies Conn intimidated. Did her wardrobe choices diminish the power of his intimidation? Having the superintendent’s daughter sashaying around in barely anything had to—

The comb stopped in her hair. Superintendent’s daughter? No. Now she was what from a disgraced family? Without the law enforcement link, maybe she wouldn’t be any use to Conn at all, professionally, that is. She’d be all kinds of use to him in other areas.

The office was empty, so was the small bedroom she’d started in. Hmm. She wasn’t Conn’s prisoner but didn’t want to overstep by wandering around the unknown place.

Overstep? As the thought rose, it disappeared. Strat’s attitude to her implication it was possible to overstep put hersin immediate perspective. Wherever she was, Conn was invited. Didn’t that work the other way too?

Conn’s phone was on the desk. His, hers, who knew anymore? She wasn’t interested in snooping, so it could stay there for the moment.

Better to seek another soul before racking up the airtime. Putting her friend’s mind at ease was first on the agenda. If Strat discovered her missing, if there was any hint of what happened… She wouldn’t do to him what she’d just endured with Conn. By connection, her brother would get an update too, keeping everyone happy. Unlikely he’d heard what happened at the loft, though if he wasn’t worrying about their father… Yeah, what happened there? She needed some updates herself.

The other double doors led to an open second floor walkway lined with balustrades. In front of her was a wide, opulent staircase. The stag symbol in the wood, and on the doors she’d just opened, clued her in.

“My God,” she whispered to no one. “This is the McDade Mansion.”

It still existed! Okay, its existence wasn’t a shock, but that Conn still had it… Wow, that was unexpected. He’d grown up there, as had his father. She hadn’t heard anything about the building for so long that she guessed it had been sold or fallen into disrepair.

Worked out even better that she’d read so much history of the family. From the reports, she had an idea of the layout, of the areas regular people accessed; connected, but not fully trusted people. The McDades would never be dumb enough to leave full architectural plans accessible or anything, but the parties…

Creeping down the stairs, the soft carpet squished beneath her toes. The clean line of the magnificent handrail aided her descent. The marble foyer floor begged attention, and every door and corner begged to be explored.

That would have to wait until after she’d connected with Strat. Why had he never mentioned the McDade house before? Did he know they still had it? No distractions, okay, the parties… The dining room was to the left, seemed like a good starting point for her hunt. The kitchen was actually on the lower floor and—

Not so swish as the old days. The dining room was huge, just like the pictures online. But gone were its formal roots. It looked more like a rec room than an opulent dinner hall. Couches, televisions, consoles, they had a coffee corner with fridges and counters. Beer. Chips. Some guys were eating sandwiches or ramen. What a life.

“Bluebell!” The exclamation brought her around to Daly coming toward her. “You found us.”

“Yes, I did.” She hugged him and gave an extra squeeze of stealth gratitude. “Is Strat around?”

“Not yet.” Backing off, he stuck a hand in his pocket. “Heard he was on your tail. D’ya shake him?”

“He was, but…” She opened her arms. “I’m here now.” But, huh? “On my tail like this last week? How do you know he was on my tail?”

“I have ears. Said we haven’t seen the boss, doesn’t mean we haven’t heard him.”

“Which boss are we talking now? My boss or your boss?”

“Both.”

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