Page 63 of Forbidden Romeo

I beeline for the bed, turning over all the pillows and sheets. It’s not until I lift up the mattress that I find it. A short pistol. East to conceal, fully loaded. Bingo. I tuck it into the back of my pants and do my best to reset the bed.

When Jack took my gun off me, I knew I’d come to regret it. Now, with the reassuring weight pressed into my back, I begin to relax a little.

Yes, this might be the worst situation I’ve ever been in, but I’ve gotten myself out of sticky situations before. The one thing I lack right now is information. What is Padraic’s plan if he catches me? How long will Jack be willing to keep me here before he relents and hands me over? How could I get a message to Connor to tell him I’m alright?

I’m drawn out of my musings by the sound of the front door opening, and I’m immediately on high alert.

Slowly, I creep out of the bedroom, my knife tucked in close to my body. If it’s an enemy, I need the element of surprise to have even the slightest hope of bringing them down. If it’s Jack… well… that’s too bad.

I step out into the living room quietly, taking cover behind one of the steel pillars before peering around to look at the front door.

But there’s no one there.

I frown; I swear I heard the door open…

“I take it you’re not expecting any visitors today?”

I spin instantly to find a stunning blonde leaning casually on the couch behind me.Behind me.How did I not hear her?

Lowering the knife slightly, I take a step toward her cautiously. “You usually break into people’s homes, do you?”

The blonde fixes me with a dazzling smile. “As a matter of fact, yes. But in this instance, I didn’t really break in. I used to live here.”

Shit, a Duffy then. “‘Used to’ being the operative words there.”

“Touché,” she concedes. “I admit it; I’m only here to make sure Jack hasn’t burned it down yet.”

Despite her elegant features and perfect mask of indifference, I can tell she’s sizing me up. Seeing how I’ll react to the mention of Jack’s name.

We stare at each other for a moment, sizing each other up until she finally breaks and shakes her head. “What a fucking mess.”

I cringe at her assessment. “Who are you?”

“Kate St. Michael,” she replies without hesitation.

The name rings a bell. “He spoke to you on the phone before?”

“Yes,” Kate replies, tilting her head. “May I ask who you are?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

She smirks and looks down at her hands. “I can guess.”

I hold the knife in my own hand more securely. “He knows you’re here?”

“Said you might be staying here a while,” she replies, holding up a plastic bag and chucking it to me.

I catch it awkwardly and quickly scan the contents. It’s just clothing; however, the sizes and styles don’t particularly give away that she knew a woman would be wearing them.

With nothing to lose, I take a stab in the dark. “You didn’t know who you’d find here, did you?”

Kate’s eyes light up. “Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t you! Wonderful.”

“Does Jack actually know you’re here?” I press.

“He will soon,” she says with a mischievous smile. “Can I ask you something?” she says casually, changing the subject.

“I feel like you will anyway,” I reply as I take another few steps into the living room and take a seat opposite her.

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