Page 1 of Dirty Eoin

CHAPTERONE

EOIN

Private Dining Room, Palace Hotel, Manhattan

If looks could kill.

They can’t, unfortunately for Jaine Jones.

Who knew the sight of this golden-haired vixen looking ready to launch herself at me, claws extended, would be quite so appealing to my dick? Given the way he’s twitching, he’s certainly tempted by what’s on offer.

An angel on the outside. A hellion on the inside.

And a succubus in my fucking dreams.

The gauntlet has already been thrown. And by her. So, it’s only a matter of time before we step into the ring and go head-to-head. I would far rather it be the bedroom. I can think of several far more enjoyable ways to stop her mouthing off in there, my cock rammed down her throat and making her gag just one. I’d take great pleasure in having her beg to wrap those pouty lips of hers around it before she sucked on it like a popsicle.

Because she would.

I push thoughts of fucking her in the nearest empty room from my mind. Not that she’d let me. She’d put up a struggle. Turn feral.

Hiss. Scratch. Bite.

I’d take anything this woman has to give.

Methinks the lady doth protest way too much. She was lying to herself. She wanted me, the same as I wanted her. She was just playing hard to get.

And it’s that pretend indifference of hers that’s held me captive for so long. That and the fact that she hates my guts and isn’t afraid to say so. Her blatant admittance that she wouldn’t piss on me if I were on fire.

Her fearlessness of what I am.

Of who I am.

Of what I’m capable of.

That’s why I’ve always found her so intriguing. That’s why this biker female with spitting green eyes and a mouth as blue as a sailor’s constantly rides my thoughts.

It was never love. It’s simply infatuation. A case of wanting something I can’t ever have. It’s just made me crave it all the more.

There is no storybook ending. My life is no fairytale. I’m no Prince Charming, and Jaine Jones is certainly no Disney Princess, regardless of what our Paddy thinks.

She’s the femme fatale in the piece. The woman to be avoided at all costs.

True love is a fallacy. And even if it does exist, it’s for fools. It’s much wiser to choose your life partner based on her credentials.

She may have killed, but Jaine’s a lawyer. A very successful one, I’ll grant her that, but a mere legal professional all the same. In hindsight, I realized she hasn’t got what it takes to be a cold-blooded murderer, and the latter’s what this future Irish king needs by his side. Recent events have proved just that.

That’s the reason I’m about to propose marriage to Molly. After I’ve visited with her da and asked his permission, that is. The girl saved my life. It’s the least I can do.

If not for her, then I wouldn’t be marrying anyone.

What would Jaine Jones have done had she known I had a gun pointed at my head?

Nothing.

She’d have cheered the gunman on from the sidelines while sitting on her executive chair as she filed her professional nails and decided which color to paint them.

“Jaine.”

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