Page 82 of Stolen Mafia Vows
“It leaves you right here, Emily.”
He stands up, walks around the desk, and offers me his hand. And I stand up, of course I do, because Emily Murray-Keegan is used to doing what everyone else wants and expects her to do.
I snatch my hand away. It feels wrong holding his hand while Eoghan exists in the world. “How long am I supposed to stay here? What happens if they don’t give you what you want?”
“Oh, they will. Olivia will make certain of it.”
Olivia!
A vague recollection slides into my memories. In it, Olivia is hazy around the edges like an image captured in motion, but I’m sure that she mentions Caleb. I can’t remember what she said though.
“What does this have to do with my brother Caleb?”
His eyes narrow, but then he quickly recovers his cool and walks to the door, facing me with a smile. “None of this isyour concern, Emily.” He opens the door and gestures with a flourish of his hand for me to leave.
“It is when I’m the one being held captive.” I fold my arms across my chest and instantly lower them when my breasts ache at the touch.
“What’s going on here?” I don’t even hear Olivia approaching until she’s standing in the open doorway, her gaze flitting between me and Ilya.
Is that jealousy in her eyes? Does she think that I desire her boyfriend?
Before I can second-guess myself, I sidle closer to Ilya, so close our shoulders are touching, and I can smell his musky cologne. I cringe inwardly at the proximity, but if rattling Olivia’s cage is going to get me out of here, I’ll act the part.
If Eoghan can do it, then so can I.
Up to a point.
“We were just discussing Caleb,” I say sweetly.
“What about Caleb?” She enters the room like a tropical storm, all sultry heat and gale force wind.
Now I know that I’m on the right path. “Perhaps you should ask Ilya.”
Ilya doesn’t pull away from me; maybe he’s up for rattling her cage too. Which would mean that all isn’t ice cream and strong cocktails in the enemy camp.
She moves closer, and I half expect her to stand between us and claim him with a kiss. But I inhale her perfume, and it’s so powerful, so cloying, that nausea crashes through me, and Iclamp a hand over my mouth, swallowing hard to stop myself from vomiting all over the study carpet.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter into the palm of my hand. “I need the bathroom.”
My captors separate and back off like they just discovered that I have the plague. “Second door on the left,” Ilya says.
I dart out of the room. The bodyguard is hot on my trail as I barge through the bathroom door and head straight for the toilet, landing on my knees on the cool tiled floor. I don’t even check if I closed the door behind me. I can’t think about anything but the nausea still making my insides squirm and Olivia’s overwhelming perfume.
When I’m finished, I stand up, swaying unsteadily against the basin, and splash my face with cold water. What the hell did she spray herself with: poison? Or am I allergic to something that I don’t know about?
There’s no sign of Ilya or the bodyguard when I open the bathroom door, but Olivia is waiting for me.
“You’re coming with me.”
She grabs my arm and drags me through the house and outside to the sun loungers on the decking surrounding the pool. She sits me down and faces me on the seat next to mine; thankfully, she keeps her clothes on this time. I turn my face away from her. I can still smell her perfume, but it’s diluted by the fresh air outside, and I think I can control the nausea if I don’t get too close.
“Does Eoghan know that you’re pregnant?”
“I… What?” I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes closed as my throat constricts. “Your perfume…”
“What about it?” She raises her wrist to her nose and sniffs.
“It’s a bit … strong.”
