Page 11 of Resurrection

Straightening in the cool night air, almost every part of my body aches.More drugs. I hope to hell she’s got good painkillers in there.

“I never make a promise I can’t keep.”

Chapter Four

Carys

Ilead the way into the house. Each step is quicksand, tugging on my feet, sucking me deeper. Rescuing Finn was more instinct than intellect. For seventeen years, I ignored anything to do with him. Then a whiff of the Donaghey brothers, thanks to Kim’s scheming, and I’ve been hauled into their vortex of death and danger.

Not that the international arms business is sunshine and roses. I’ve grown up with those dangers, and my father is well-established. Everything in this world makes sense to me. Finn’s brand of rage, sex, and violence has always turned me on, but I never understood why.

I stride through the house, my flats making me silent on the wood floor. Usually I make a more of an entrance. Finn and Jay are far enough behind that I should be able to warn Eric before the two men come face-to-face.

Sitting on the couch, suit jacket open, feet propped on the table and a drink in his hand, is Eric. Like this, he makes my breath catch. He’s the opposite of Finn in his build and coloring, but his aura of power draws me to him.

“You didn’t have to come all this way,” I tell him.

A sly smile spreads across his lips. “You’re hiding something from me.”

“We haven’t been engaged for years. I’m also your boss. I suppose I can literally hide anything, and you can’t do shit about it.”

His grin fades, and he turns on the couch to inspect me. “Don’t be a bitch. We’re missing a massive amount of product in Russia, and you’re more interested in a skiing vacation than tracking a thief? You can’t tell me that’s normal behavior for you.”

“That’s the thing about being the boss. I assigned people to gather the information for me while I’m here. I don’t have to do everything myself. The worddelegationwas invented for that.”

Eric raises his cranberry vodka soda and swishes it around his glass. He saunters over to me with the ease of a man who knows how this will go.

“I can delegate with the best of them. There are people who require a morepersonaltouch.” He grazes his fingers over my collarbone as he pushes my hair behind my shoulders.

Normally his familiarity would cause a shiver to race down my spine. But I am so achingly aware of Finn’s approach, Eric’s caress barely registers.

His rich brown eyes search me, trying to figure out what’s different. He might be an asshole and a cheat, but he can read people. He’s known me for so long in so many ways, my lack of reaction must jar him. “What are you doing here in Switzerland?”

“Me.” Finn’s deep timbre responds from behind me.

Eric darts his gaze over my head, and confusion mars his face. “And you would be?”

I half turn, willing Finn to use an alias, any alias. Eric’s never been a threat to me outside the business arena, but I’m not sure what he’ll do about me harboring a known fugitive. One whoalmost murdered an FBI agent and, if he could do it again, would simply have better aim.

“Finn Donaghey.”

Eric’s eyes widen and he glances at me before straightening to his full height. It’s impressive. He’s six-foot-four to Finn’s six-foot stature. But Finn’s fighting motto has always been,The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Size never intimidated him. Eric’s lean, ropy, a runner. Finn’s bulkier, a brawler. Most people wouldn’t want to come across him in a dark alley.

Unbidden, the image of him pressing me up against a cold brick wall, pushing his hands up my skirt, the ache to be with him, to have him inside me, is more than I can bear. It was the last time we were together before I was stabbed. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I turn from Eric, hoping he’s too focused on his rival to notice my sudden arousal.

“Is he the reason the fucking FBI has been sniffing around the office in Chicago?” Eric’s drink sloshes over the edges as he gestures toward Finn.

Not his first alcoholic beverage since arriving.

“Yes.” I swallow, willing myself to stay in the moment and stop getting lost in the past.

Finn’s not capable of feeling for me what I once believed I felt for him. He doesn’t do commitment. Most men don’t. Least of all Eric.

“I’m helping him get sorted,” I say, “and then I’ll be back to the office. I have people figuring out what happened at the warehouse.”

“Not just what happened, Carys. We need to comprehend why and who was involved and whether it’s likely to happen again. If we were a smaller organization, that theft would have ruined us. As it is, we don’t have a clue where those arms are headed. Our proverbial fingerprints coat them.”

Lashing out is tempting, but when Eric’s been into the alcohol, he’s too easily riled. Given that Finn has already reminded me about his quick temper, I keep my anger in check.

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