Page 127 of Merciless Desires

Darragh exhales and turns around. “That’s waving a red flag. I’ll call an L.A. attorney I know and get it all straightened out.”

“I hoped I could disappear there,” I murmur, staring at a bead of sweat dripping down his spine and into the curve of his ass. Christ, this man is insanely hot. “A city with so many people.”

Darragh scoffs and turns around. “Where there’s lots of people, there’s mafia. Vegas was the least safe place for you. The Cosa Nostra is brutally vicious there. Eoghan’s had some run-ins with them. He’s a lot more dangerous than people think.”

“Eoghan’s…dangerous?” I’m intrigued by the younger members of Kieran’s tight circle.

“He’s an O’Rourke.” Is all Darragh says, picking up his phone from a wireless charging pad. Making strained faces, he reads his messages.

“What time is Sophie’s party?” I ask.

He looks up. “Why?”

I move to the refrigerator. “May I?”

He nods.

“Those cupcakes should sit out for a while, so they’re not ice cold.” I see a tray of vanilla and pink frosted cupcakes and take them out. “She brings her own sweets to parties?”

Darragh puts down his phone. “I don’t trust anyone to tell me the food has no nuts. Except her school. It costs me a fortune, but they know about her allergy. I vetted them, so did Eoghan. She’s safe there.” But he looks down and curses under his breath.

“What?”

“I have to hire a new nanny.” He pinches his eyebrows. “Today or tomorrow.”

“I can—”

“No,” he snaps, shutting me down.

I’m deflated that he doesn’t trust me. Doesn’t see that with every minute, the real me returns. Only, the real me is a spoiled Bratva princess. Who’s having a little prince. I need to grow up. Fast.

“You’re doing so much for me.”

The kettle whistles a high-pitch squeal. and without saying anymore to me, Darragh pours my tea. The lemon ginger aroma calls out to me. I take a burning sip, wanting something normal.

“Then what am I supposed to do around here?” I blow on the tea and suck on my burnt lip.

“Rest up to have the baby.” Darragh swigs his tea, pushing past the scorching sips.

“Darragh, you’re a doctor.” I put the mug down. “I assume you know pregnant women aren’t completely helpless.”

I realize he may be projecting Sophie’s mother. How he gave her freedom, and she took off.

He opens his mouth to say something, but I add, “And perhaps I’m working on pure adrenaline, but I feel one hundred times better. Let me help you with Sophie.”

“I said no.” He pushes past me with his mug, the scent of him drowning out the lemon ginger.

That… Want that.

“I said… no.” Darragh repeats to Sophie when she asks if I’m coming to her party. “Ana’s not feeling well. She needs to rest.”

Sophie looks adorable in a pink dress, white tights, and black patent-leather buckled shoes. Her hair smells like strawberries, and Darragh made an impressive high ponytail.

He looks handsome and polished with that single dad romance novel vibe, wearing a pair of black trousers and a gray sweater with a white dress shirt underneath. Christ, all the single mothers at the party are going to lose their mind.

“Daddy, my ribbon.” Sophie holds up a pink and yellow polka dot strip of fabric.

“One second, Soph,” he says, packing up all the food.

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