Page 21 of Declan

I move closer, kneeling in front of him. He stiffens slightly when I rest my hands on his knees, and for a split second, I think he’s going to pull away. But he doesn’t.

Instead, his hands find mine.

The rough heat of his touch sends a shiver through me, but I don’t pull away. I can’t.

“You’re going to call Wesley in the morning,” Declan murmurs, his voice steady, commanding.

“You’ll tell him you met someone and didn’t want to make Jeanne jealous. You’ll say you wanted to see where it went before telling anyone.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“He’s gonna be pissed. He’s gonna want to meet this guy.” Declan smirks, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that is dangerous. “But we both know how you are. You fight like hell to keep your private life private.”

I can’t find words.

I’m trapped in this thick, heady tension, and I don’t want to escape it.

Not yet.

“And, Lena?” His voice drops lower, sending heat coursing through my veins.

I swallow. “Yeah?”

“You can’t go home yet.”

His words land like a slow-burning flame against my skin.

“I can’t?” I whisper, my gaze locked on his.

“No. Things aren’t handled yet, and until they are, I need to know you’re safe. So, you’re staying here.”

Right. It’s about safety, not the same reason my pulse is pounding in my throat.

Before I can respond, Declan reaches into his pocket, pulling out a thick wad of cash. He drops it onto the table in front of me.

“Here’s your five grand back.”

I stare at the money, my stomach twisting before I snap my gaze up to his.

I stand abruptly, stepping back. “What the hell?”

He shrugs, taking another sip of his beer. So calm, so unaffected. If I wasn’t so rattled, I’d be jealous of the way his lips linger on the bottle.

“Jason shouldn’t have taken your money to begin with. Take it back, and no more fucking gambling. You understand?”

“Declan, I can’t take that.”

“It’s yours,” he says simply, finishing off his beer.

My mind spins with all the ways he could have gotten that money. I don’t want to know.

My hands shake as I take another step back. “It’s not my money. Not anymore. I fucked up, and I don’t want a dead man’s money.”

Declan chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets. “No one’s dead, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

That one word destroys me.

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