Page 83 of Reckless Promises

When we finally pull apart, he cups my jaw, pressing his thumb over my mouth. “If I’d have known you’d thank me like that, I’d have tried to get you in contact with your sister sooner.”

“Very funny.” I roll my eyes. “Is your meeting finally over?”

“Yes, but I’m headed into another one.”

He never stops working. But if it’s unbearable for me, I can’t imagine how it is for him, so I try to hold in my disappointment.

“Well, here.” I reach behind me for a fork. “At least take one bite to fuel your day.”

I shove the fork down through all three layers. It’s still not frosted on the outside, but he’s been so busy lately that I’m not sure when he’ll have the chance to enjoy his cake anyway.

“One bite.” He wraps his mouth around the fork and eats it.

And it’s so hot how he does that. How his mouth moves when he chews, and how he watches me like he’s proud of whatever I’ve made, even when it’s terrible. Except right now, he surprises me because genuine enjoyment fills his face.

“It’s really good.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

Cillian wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to him. “You always surprise me. And I consider that a good thing.”

He pulls me in for a kiss and it’s sweet like cake. Gentle, caring. He holds my body like it’s my bleeding heart in his hands. And it might as well be.

30

Cillian

It’s been days sinceI’ve had a full night of sleep. Between monitoring shipments and running the family business, there isn’t enough time. Odette is starting to feel the tension. I’ve seen her less and less, even though we share a room, and there’s a distance my work inevitably puts between us.

I’m thankful Fallon has been around to keep her busy because I don’t want her to get lonely, but I don’t know how long it will be until I’ll wrap this up. And even if she hasn’t been able to see her sister, they’re in contact, which seems to ease some of the weight off her shoulders.

“I still don’t see how we get out of this clean.” Shane leans back in his chair, dragging my attention back to my fifth mind-numbing business meeting in a row.

He and Daniel sit at the dining table with my security team, while Brandon and Adam are on the phone, helping sort out the details.

“I have a friend with the Feds,” Adam says.

Shane rolls his eyes for the tenth time in the past hour. He doesn’t know Adam, but he doesn’t like him because he knows he’s who I spent the past few years with instead of being with my family.

“Who says I can trust thisfriend?”

“Shane, stop.” I rest my elbows onto the table and turn to him. “You can trust Adam, which means you can trust his friend.”

“Who says I can trust Adam?” Shane snorts.

“I do.”

We sit staring at each other for a long moment before he finally backs down.

While Brandon is now on board with my plan to take down the Bardots and Rocheforts, Shane has been resistant. But I get the sense it has less to do with the fact that I want to move the family into more legal lines of business, and more to do with the fact that I’m dismantling everything he and my father built. Either way, he’ll get there, grumbling through it or not.

“If that’s sorted, I need to take another call,” Adam says. “Send me the date and time once you have it, and my contact will be there to make it happen.”

“Will do.”

Adam hangs up, and Shane once more narrows his eyes at the phone.

“We have one more problem to discuss,” Brandon speaks up. “Sascha Rochefort.”

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