Page 21 of Three Irish Kings
It’s not like the Irish mob wants reporters sniffing around.
I look around again, hoping to find something different, but fear descends over me like a hot blanket. I’m trembling all over from the adrenaline, and I wonder if I’m fast enough to get to the door before Cillian catches me.
He’s not really paying attention to me anyway...
Fuck it.
I rush for the door and get my hand on the doorknob.
Cillian’s hand closes around my wrist, making me freeze.
“You know you scarred me with those nails of yours,” he murmurs, and a rush of fear and... something else runs through me. “If you don’t want matching ones, you better play nice.”
There’s something in his voice that tells me he means it.
I swallow hard and turn around.
Cillian breathes slowly, chest moving up and down, scratches across his forearm in the shape of my nails. He’s broader than I realized, tall and looming over me.
My breath catches in my throat, and I can’t help feeling just a tiny bit... aroused, pleasure swelling in my lower stomach.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Look, I don’t know how many times I have to say this, but my name isn’t Maggie,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m Isla, remember? Introduced myself in the elevator before you kidnapped me.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “I know who you are,Maggie Sullivan.”
He reaches behind him, and my heart drops into my stomach.
Is he going to pull a gun?
Cillian pulls out his phone instead, showing me a picture.
“Are you going to try and tell me this isn’t you?” His voice is short and serious.
I peer at the picture, narrowing my eyes before widening them.
It’s uncanny. She really does look like me. We could be sisters.
“Her cheeks are rounder. And she doesn’t have the scar.” I tilt my chin up to show him the long scar under my chin from falling off my bike and my chin hitting the curb.
He barely looks at the scar. “Nice try. You probably got that in the weeks you’ve been running. Lost some weight, too.”
Dare and Liam have moved into another room, and all I can hear are their low voices, not quite making anything out.
I’m so terrified I can’t think straight, but the adrenaline is keeping me sharp.
He’s close, so close I could lean up and plant a kiss on his full mouth.
I take my nail and slowly slide it across his chest.
“We could work this out, you know?” I hope my voice doesn’t sound as desperate as it is.
It’s not like I’m actually going to sleep with the guy to get out of here, but if I buy some time...
He snorts. “Are you really going to try that after you did this?” He lifts his arm to show me the scratches. “Because if you are, prepare to be punished. I don’t tolerate bad girls.”
A shiver runs through me, and not all of it is fear.
