Page 4 of Brutal Obsession

“Who knew Harper Brennan was hiding such a temper beneath that good-girl act? I should make you clean the wine off my face and chest with your tongue.”

The idea of licking Cian anywhere pulses a bolt of desire through my veins. “I asked you to let me go. Please.”

Though he releases me, he remains in my personal space. “Where are you going?”

My heart kicks my ribs.

“Home,” I lie.

“I’ll drive you.”

I gulp. “No, thanks.”

“I was a little out of line before.”

My head rears back in shock. A King apologizing? The apocalypse must be near. I always figured not saying sorry was one of those things they taught mafia guys during the initiation process.

Whatever. I refuse to be impressed that Cian meets the minimum requirement for basic emotional intelligence.

“You were more than out of line.”

A muscle in his jaw twitches.

“You’ll have to forgive me, princess.” He crowds into my space again, towering over me. “But when my best friend’s fiancée shows up at a bar the night before her wedding, alone and downing wine like it’s her last night on earth, it makes a guy wonder.”

“Funny. Having one of my fiancé’s best friends show up at a bar andsniff my neckhas a similar effect on me.” With my pulse thundering over my audacity, I lift my chin and don my best Thomas-Brennan’s-spoiled-daughter face. “My relationshipwith Finn is none of your business. Why don’t you run back along to your fangirls, and we’ll forget this ever happened?”

Cian stares down at me with an expression I’ve rarely witnessed from him.

Serious. Broody. “What if I don’t want to forget it?”

“Please stop messing with me and go away.”

I dart past him and swing toward the street. I don’t havetimefor this. Bex must be at the curb by?—

Quick as sin, he’s on me. His hands, his heat, the bulk of his body. All of them press into me until my back hits the restaurant’s outer wall.

I’m shaking inside. Literally shaking. And that reaction pisses me off.

Why? Why do I get this way around him? The guy’s a well-known player, and even if he weren’t, I’m trying to escape the current man in my life, not acquire a new one.

Not even one who saved me once upon a time.

As for Cian, I have no clue where any of this is coming from.

All my thoughts evaporate when I meet his gaze head-on, mere inches separating our lips.

He braces his hands against the stone on either side of my head, caging me to the alley wall.

His warm, minty breath caresses my face as he grits out two words. “I’m serious.”

“And I’m twenty-three, not sixteen.” I try not to sound flustered, even as my knees threaten to buckle. “I’m not falling for,” I gesture at his body, “whatever this is.”

Meanwhile, my heart hammers violently enough to bruise my ribs. I want to insist that he give me space, but I’m trapped in this strange, unexpectedly intimate moment.

“One night.” His eyes drop to my mouth. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

His meaning takes a few moments to register. Once it does, my jaw drops. Is Cian Mahoney asking me to spend the night with him? Me, his best friend’s fiancée? On the night before our wedding?

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