Page 10 of Dangerous as Sin

All day I’ve been wallowing in my boredom, but despite the freedom currently being offered, I’m not sure I want it any longer. I’d almost rather stay safe behind the locked door.

“Okay.” It’s the only response I can make. Warily, I lift myself away from the wall.

Liam heads for the door and stops when he reaches it, turning to stare back at me with a questioning glance. Forcing my feet to move, I cross the room, pass him, and continue walking, trying to ignore the feel of his eyes following me all the way down the hall.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Liam

I want to punch something. There aren’t many things in my life I regret. In fact, only two stand out. As Imogen walks rigidly down the hall, I could add one more to the list. I’m pissed at her, but more at myself for letting my temper snap. It shows a lack of control. And I’m nothing if not in control.

I’m not a kind man. In fact, I’ve never claimed to be. But the terror in her eyes shifted something inside me. I refuse to apologize though.

We reach the dining room where our food waits. I stop at the same seat Imogen sat at last night and pull it out for her. Cautiously, she moves closer, pauses with a quick glance in my direction, and sits while I push the chair in behind her. I follow suit.

“I hope you enjoy fish and chips.” I reach into the brown bag for the two boxes inside. “No one makes them quite like Braden McCarthy does. No matter how many times I’ve asked, though, he won’t tell me his secret recipe.”

Imogen hesitates opening the large white box I set in front of her. Gone is the smart mouth who spits fire at me with every turn. In its place is a shadow hiding her flame. Goddamn it. It’s my fault. Guilt is a useless emotion and makes me defensive. “I never took you for a coward.”

Her head snaps up and—there it is—that familiar flash of anger lights up her eyes. “I’m merely being civil. Providing you polite discourse like you requested.”

I have to withhold my smile. Thank fuck she found her spirit again. “Considering, until this moment, you haven’t said a single word since we came out here, there isn’t much discourse happening, now is there?”

Imogen sighs and sags back against her chair. “What is it you want from me? You could have any woman you wanted without having to kidnap one. Why, out of all of Dublin, did you take me? To my knowledge, we’ve never met before. It’s not as though we run in the same social circles.”

“Do you know who I am?”

Her face crinkles like she’s confused. “Of course.”

“I don’t just mean my name. Do you know who I am?”

She pauses as though considering. “I know you’re the stepson of Dónal Sheehan and part of an extremely powerful family that may or may not abide by any man’s law.”

I chuckle at Imogen’s description. “Correct. Mostly, anyway. I’m not just part of that powerful organization. As of a few short hours ago, I’m now the head of it. And to answer your previous questions…yes, I can have any woman I want, although that wasn’t really a question. The fact remains that it’s true. However, it’s tiresome dealing with sycophants. Women who want the money and power that comes with being with me. I needed a challenge.”

Imogen’s mouth drops. “You’re telling me that I’m here because you’re bored?”

“If you’d like to call it that. I’d like to think of it more as a game of strategy. One where I seduce you while you try—and fail—to deny me. In the end, perhaps, we both win.”

“Jesus, you really are barmy, aren’t you?” She shakes her head. “That still doesn’t answer why me out of the whole city?”

“Because you intrigue me, Imogen Walsh. Also, are you sure we’ve never met before?” I lean forward, fingers threaded, and rest my forearms on the table.

She harrumphs. “I’m pretty sure I would have remembered running into one of the biggest criminals in Dublin. No offense.”

I merely smile and sit back in the chair. “None taken. To refresh your memory, it was several months ago. I’d been coming out of a restaurant after a business meeting. Your head was down and you were staring at your phone, not paying attention. You ran straight into me. Most people would have apologized. Not you, though. If I recall correctly, you looked me up and down with distaste, called me an extremely colorful, and vulgar, name, and kept walking, while sending me the middle finger over your shoulder.”

Imogen’s cheeks flush.

“Anyone else would have been…shown the error of their ways, but surprisingly, I was amused. I sent one of my men to follow you. Since then, I’ve learned a few things about you.”

She stiffens. “Like what?”

“Sadly, only the basics. Useless things, really. Which has me curious. Why can’t I find more out about you? You have no digital footprint to speak of. You have one of the most complex security systems at your home. You also have two separate cells phones, which in and of itself isn’t unusual, but combined with other things, has me questioning why.”

“I told you—”

“Yes, yes, you have sensitive data involving your ‘work’ on your home computer.” I pin Imogen with a stare. “Except something tells me you’re not being quite truthful with me. You see, in my line of work, it’s important to be able to spot when someone’s lying. There are tells. Over the years, I’ve become quite adept at identifying them.”

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