Page 23 of Illicit Temptation

The bright moon shining through the large window at the back of my house catches my attention and I wander over to look at it. Trace’s suggestion about eating me out while we swim in my pool hasn’t left my mind.

Sigh, but Ihaveto divorce him.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Trace - February - Six Months Later

“Quinlan. Trace,” I announce to the shady cop guarding the gate to the O’Rourke black site on Astoria Harbor.

I’ve been guarding Balor O’Rourke, but this is the first time Lachlan O’Rourke requested a private audience with me.

I’ve not seen Shea-Lynne since she sent me away in August. It’s not easy to stalk a woman with a bodyguard. So, I put this plan into motion to get Soren booted.

Looks like it worked. Thanks to a little text tampering, a certain princess’s guard is being removed. Balor, who thinks of his sister first, of course, offered me as a replacement.

Driving past the gate up the narrow lane, a two-story warehouse with a cement façade comes into view. From a steel door, a man with auburn hair emerges and my senses take in the long coat, wide shoulders, and a powerful gait.

My cousin, Griffin, waves me to a parking spot and stomps out a blunt. Smoke and steam leave his lips from the frigid temperature. I’m impressed with how he’s keeping it together, considering the visitor he got on New Year’s Day.

Griffin called a meeting at his family mansion in Astoria after the head of the Greek mafia gave him an ultimatum.

For now, we’re all still loyal O’Rourke soldiers.

I guess it doesn’t matter that I spent eight years in the Irish Defence Forces, three of them neck deep in Syria’s Golan Heights under the UN banner, and seven years as a private security contractor.

I still have to prove myself to Lachlan.

Griffin clasps the nape of my neck before my mind wanders any further. “Thanks for coming,” he says, hisvoice raspy.

We step inside and strut down a long dark tunnel with pin lights at the baseboards. Griffin pounds on a steel door. A tiny window opens and then the door.

The scent of blood hits me immediately, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up, remembering being locked in that container, but I push through it. In the wide room with tall ceilings lined with pipes, men I don’t know stand around with long guns, some with knives.

The Enforcer participates in the torture and killing that goes on here. A limp body lies on a table, but Griffin marches right up to Lachlan.

The brotherly love between Griffin and Lachlan rings loudly. They walk shoulder to shoulder even though Griffin is O’Rourke’s second-in-command. My Quinlan cousins have long been loyal to the O’Rourkes, even before they all moved to the States. Their partnership started in Waterford between their fathers, Fergus O’Rourke and my Uncle Aiden Quinlan.

Lachlan hovers over a metal sink and washes his hands, scrubbing them with chemicals that irritate my nose.

“Boss, Trace is here to meet with you,” Griffin announces me.

“In the office,” Lachlan says, his voice deep, his arms crawling with scars not unlike my own.

Lachlan the Legend O’Rourke has not come down from the high of the kill. I won’t lie, my stomach twists. Kieran O’Rourke is the head of the snake, but Lachlan is the venomous fangs.

Griffin shows me into the office, and I’m surprised at its posh and stylish décor considering the cold, brutal appearance of the main torture room.

Before I get a chance to ask Griffin a question, Lachlan struts in and sits down. His dark gray eyes lift to me, and I straighten my back as a sign of strength.

“What can I do for you, Mr. O’Rourke?” I ask, playing dumb.

He leans back in his chair. “Don’t call me Mr. O’Rourke. That’s my da.”

“Lachlan,” I adhere to his wishes.

“I need you to guard my sister,” he says without a huge lead-up.

My heart goes into a freefall, that my sabotage of her guard Soren worked. “Aye. Are there any active threats against her?” I ask, sitting back, crossing my legs like a gentleman. I’m in a designer suit and he’s shirtless in black blood-stained trousers.

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