Page 6 of The Devil's Price

Inside, I wait by the maître d’ stand for the dapper man in a black suit to appear. He smiles at me politely and glances down at his list on the podium in front of himself.

"Ms. Gallagher?" he asks, and then his eyes meet mine again with curiosity.

"Yes, thank you. I'm meeting?—"

"Mr. O'Rourke is ready for you. Right this way." He nods and takes off, not even offering me his elbow. I didn't know what to expect when I walked in, but it wasn't this. Finn isn’t even by the front to greet me and walk me back. As we weave through tables in the busy dining area, I feel exposed. Suddenly, the part of me that doesn't usually feel vulnerable begins to feel modest and insecure.

Men's eyes drink me in. Women look at me with disdain—jealous over the way their partners are staring, or over the way I look. I'm not sure. I keep my eyes turned downward and will away the heat flushing my cheeks, and soon, the man leads me to a dark corner of the restaurant shrouded in thick velvet curtains. I glance at the larger dining area at large and realize this is tooprivate. O’Rourke could kill me and no one would even see. I'm so thankful for the wire Liam insisted I wear.

"Ms. Gallagher…" the host says, pulling the curtain aside.

Finn sits in the circular booth with a menu in hand poring over the contents. I'm taken with how gorgeous he is. His hair has been slicked back, his beard trimmed. He wears an expensive suit, diamond cufflinks on the sleeves of his shirt. It makes my heart flutter a bit, and my eyes lock on the glass of wine, clearly poured for me. I may need that.

"Thank you," I say softly to the maître d’. He nods as I slip into the booth, and Finn folds the menu shut, setting it to the side.

"You look stunning," he says, but unlike Liam, who couldn't get enough of the eye candy, Finn's eyes stay on my face. Somehow, this is even more personal, even more intimidating.

"Thank you," I mumble. Is that the only thing I can say tonight? I feel butterflies zipping around my belly and making me feel anxious. So I sip the wine, and he chuckles warmly.

"No need to be nervous, Siobhan. Contrary to what you may think of me, I don't bite." Finn scoots closer, so close our knees are touching under the table. It doesn't make me uncomfortable initially, but the longer he stares at me, the more I begin to feel uneasy, and not for the reason I thought might happen. I'm uneasy because I like it. I drink another gulp of wine in response to that.

"Not nervous at all," I tell him, then immediately regret saying that as I set the wine glass back on the table and my hand shakes a little, sloshing the wine.

Finn doesn't notice, or if he does, he's gentleman enough not to say anything about it. His fingers reach up and brush a few strands of my dark hair off my shoulder, tucking it behind my back. Then his hand lingers on my bare skin, rubbing his knuckles up and down on my arm.

"I'm so glad you decided to join me. We have so much to talk about, so much time to get to know one another." He's smooth, so very charming. His touch makes me warm inside, or maybe it's the wine already. I've not eaten today, too busy working and preparing for tonight to think of it.

"Yes, well, as I told you, this is a professional meeting." My eyes flick to the wine again. I shouldn't, but I can't stop myself. I finish the glass and avoid looking at him and his judging eyes. This was a mistake and Liam was right. I'm too attracted to him to be here alone. It doesn't even matter that men like him killed my cousin. Alone with him, I'm just a woman and he's just a really fucking hot man.

Finn scoots closer still and smiles at me warmly. "I ordered dinner for us. I hope you don't mind." At this rate, I think we won't even make it to dinner before I get up and walk out. So far, I can't even remember why I'm here. He's magnetic as his hand reaches out and takes the wine from the ice bucket to fill my glass again.

"No, that's okay," I tell him, watching his every move. This glass is fuller than the last one. I should pace myself, but my nerves keep me drinking. It's probably just a nervous habit and I could sip the water instead, but I reach for the wine and gulp it.

"So you want to keep this professional, but I can't help but feel so drawn to you. You're a beautiful woman, Siobhan, and you're powerful. How can I ignore those things?" His hand rests on mythigh as he turns toward me. His other arm stretches across the back of the booth seat around me and tickles my far shoulder. He's so close, I am consumed by his cologne.

"Finn, you know nothing could ever really happen between us. The city's DPP and a criminal?" I resist rolling my eyes, but it's there—the way I’m internally scolding myself for something my body clearly wants. We haven't even eaten, haven't even talked, really, but the gravitational pull of his charm has my panties melting. And the way his thumb gently strokes the top of my thigh makes me wish his hand were a few inches closer to my core.

I reach for the wine again and down it all. This isn't going well. If I can't separate my obvious need for sexual release from the fact that this dinner is supposed to be about cornering a dangerous criminal and his organization, it's all going to hell. Liam will kill me.

"I respect that." He starts to pull away, and I swallow hard. It's what I want, right? For him to stop trying to charm me, for him to just cough up the dirt? So why do I take his hand and grip his wrist, keeping it on my lap?

He grins, and I feel the fingers on my left shoulder edging the strap of my dress across my skin. The first swirl of alcohol hits me. The back of my neck aches. My cheeks burn. I can feel the sweat on my palm between our hands and know this is wrong, the way my heart is beating so hard. I refused his invitation because I know this is so wrong.

"So fucking sexy, Siobhan." Finn leans in closer, fingers still playing with the dress strap.

"Finn," I breathe in protest, but his hand slides from my thigh around to my hip. As he pulls me toward himself, burying his face in my chest, his fingers tug the strap off my shoulder and it falls.

I gasp and reach for it, but it's too late. My tit is exposed and so is the wire. Finn's teeth scrape the inside of my breast and he pauses, eyes wide open, locked on the black recording device taped to my creamy flesh.

My heart literally stops.

I'm a dead woman.

6

FINN

My eyes rest on the small black listening device taped discreetly to Siobhan's chest. I feel the way her heart hammers against her ribcage beneath my lips, which are pressed to the curve of her tit. I figured as much. I just thought she'd have been smarter about it.

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