Page 123 of Illicit Temptation

“Right. Coffee?” I move to the kitchenette and he follows.

“Black.”

I pour him a cup and hand the steaming mug to him in a strangled silence.

“Explain to me what happened in Dunbar?” Rowan takes a sip.

“Why do you want to know?”

“There’ve been rumors in town.” He means Waterford.

“About?”

“People going to work there and never coming back.” He puts down the mug. “I’m working for the local DOJ, reporting directly to the magistrate. It sounds like we should open an investigation.”

Now I get Rowan’s willingness to help me. But I respect his angle. So long as I get Shea out of here.

While Shea is getting dressed, I give him a rundown of what I know but suggest he contact Cormac, who will have better and more thorough first-hand information.

Shea comes back into the kitchen with her bags, dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater. Rowan finishes his coffee and waits in the car while I throw on jeans and a flannel.

We look like ordinary residents.

Ian drives for ninety minutes on mostly abandoned roads in his 4x4. Shea sits in the back, the window open and the air whipping her dark hair around her face. She’s so painfully beautiful in this moment, in this snapshot of time when she’s mine, but that can change in a heartbeat.

The airfield comes into view and my pulse thunders in my neck. The radio silence is deafening. Balor doesn’t want to give away my location now that I’m out in theopen. It speaks to the unfettered expectation that I will return the O’Rourke treasure to them.

She’s not a princess to them. They protect her, but they don’t coddle or treat her like glass. I call her princess to annoy her because it’s fun, but I worship her. I’ve always worshipped her.

Three guards with long gun rifles and tactical fatigues nod to Ian at the gate. Their tight jaws and stone-cold focus remind me of my years of service. I had a glorious service until Faolan Malone became my commander and made my life hell.

Rowan gives the all-clear and exits the truck. I turn to Shea, who’s looking right at me.

“Twelve hours and we’ll be home, princess.” I throw a duffle over my shoulder and reach for her hand.

When she hesitates, my breathing stalls. Finally, she manages a smile. Heart in my throat, I get out and open the door for her. I hold Shea’s hand as we walk across the tarmac.

“What’s in that duffle anyway?” she asks.

“Don’t worry, princess.”

I glance at the large cargo plane and stop short seeing the Irish Defences logo on the side. “That’s a fucking military transport, Rowan.”

“Trust me, Malone won’t shoot down a plane full of soldiers, for...” He stops and clears his throat.

“For me,” Shea says with a lopsided grin. “Good. I would never want to be so wickedly valuable, that a man would kill innocent people.”

“Men like Malone have their own value system,” Rowan says, but next something warm and wet hits my cheek. The taste of copper fills my mouth and Rowan collapses on top of me.

I loosen my grip on Shea, who jumps back, holding her mouth. Damn, she’ll scream any second.

The men standing around us run for cover as bullets click and smoke against the tarmac. A hard-top Jeep rides up on us and stops. With just one foot from the passenger seat, I know my fate.

Out walks... Faolan Malone.

I push Rowan’s lifeless body aside and yell to Shea, “Run.Get on that plane!”

He wants her, hewon’tkill her.

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