“You want me to talk to her?” he asked.
“Hell, no,” Declan said.
“Just give me a moment and we’ll go through together. I need to change my shirt, some asshole just broke my nose. And on my birthday.”
Declan sat, sipping his drink, contemplating the evening ahead. If Jess had her way, this would be the last time he saw her.
So he had to make sure that she didn’t get her own way. She was too used to it anyway. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who needed shaking up.
…
The memories swamped her.
After that first time, Rory McCabe had banned her from the club. But on nights when his father was absent, Declan would sneak her in and they’d dance and party until the early hours. Her doing her best to tempt him, drive him wild, see how far she could push him before he would surrender, drag her off to some quiet secret corner, and make love to her until she could think of nothing else.
Tonight, the club had been closed to outsiders; this was a private party, but the room was already filling. She peered around, looking for anyone she recognized, any sign of trouble. She spotted Declan’s two guards for the night on either side of a black door at the far end of the room. She nodded briefly, then continued her survey of the room. Otherwise, the only person she recognized was Paul, Declan’s assistant. Though there were a few people taking more than an interest in her. She ignored them.
Her muscles tensed as the door opened and she waited for Declan to appear.
Just one more night. That’s all she had to get through. All through the long day, as she’d ignored Declan’s calls, she’d done her best to paper over the cracks so she could hold it together just a little while longer.
Then afterward she would take herself off somewhere, let herself fall apart, and then start the painful process of putting herself back together again.
And all day, she’d been fighting the nagging doubts that she was being a coward. That if she turned her back on this, one day—maybe not straightaway, but eventually—she would regret it bitterly.
Declan loved her.
But she couldn’t let that matter. Could she?
Declan didn’t appear. In fact, she didn’t recognize any of the people who exited the room. A tall, stunning older woman with blond hair and a dark purple dress. A younger woman who must be her daughter, their looks were so similar. And finally a man. For a brief second, she’d thought it was Declan. But only a second. Tall, with Declan’s midnight hair and sharp cheekbones. She was guessing this was the brother he’d mentioned. There was nothing of the respectable businessman in this man. All in black, with the black ink of tattoos visible at his throat and arms, he radiated bad-boy menace. Was this what Declan would have turned out like if he’d walked away from the role expected off him? A shiver ran through her.
If this was Declan’s brother, then she was guessing that the two women were his mother and sister. Wow. It was hard to think of Declan as having a mother.
The door had closed behind them and the small group stood just inside the room talking among themselves. A third woman joined them. She recognized Penny, dark hair perfectly cut in a bob, makeup subdued but also perfect, and a stunning floor-length black gown. She obviously knew the family well. They chatted for a moment, then all four started searching the room.
Jess stepped back, mingling with the guests. The crowd was a mix of ages and types. Rory McCabe had an eclectic mix of friends. But if any were dodgy, they’d made an effort to hide it. She spotted Harry, a blonde on his arm, and waggled her fingers in his direction. The room reeked of affluence and respectability. All the same, she felt a twinge of unease, almost as though someone was watching her. This was the ideal setup if anyone wanted to get at Declan. Everyone would know he was here tonight. The place was a warren of dark corners where an assassin could hide.
She’d discussed all this with the team and with Rory, but he’d assured her that no one would get past his security, and in the end they had let the night go ahead. Now she couldn’t help but think that was a mistake.
The light was dim and she turned slowly taking everything in, analyzing it in her mind, looking for any discordant note, anyone who didn’t fit in. But could see nothing.
Her gaze kept straying back to Declan’s brother, the one exception to the affluent and respectable description. The resemblance to Declan was uncanny. He’d separated from the little group and stood alone, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest as he watched the people around him. He radiated a faint sense of menace, like a panther who’d gatecrashed the party. As if sensing her gaze, he raised his head, and his eyes met hers, silver like Declan’s.
He pushed off from the wall and strolled over, the guests parting for him. She’d thought his hair was short, but it was pulled back into a ponytail at his nape. He came to a halt in front of her and held out his hand. Black-and-red tattoos snaked down over his wrist and across the back of his hand. She took it in hers and watched his face. As she tried to pull away, his grip tightened.
“Jessica, I presume?”
“You do? You can drop my hand now. I’m quite capable of holding it up on my own.”
His lips twitched, but he released his grip and her hand fell to her side. She resisted the urge to wipe it down her pant leg.
“So you’re Jessica Bauer. Declan’s unsuitable youthful indiscretion.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And you’re Logan McCabe. Declan’s unrespectable black-sheep brother.”
He grinned. “I like the description.” His gaze dropped to wander over her body. It was weird; they looked so alike, but her body responded to Declan’s gaze like a touch. With this man, she felt nothing. “I can’t believe we never got to meet all those years ago.”
“I believe you were a little indisposed.”
“Shit, yeah. I was in the clink at the time.” He studied her. “You know, you and I would make a much better team. Declan’s way too stuffy for a woman like you.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“I’ve heard enough.”
She couldn’t begin to imagine. “And I’ve had my fill of the McCabe men, thank you.”
“Oh well. It was worth a try to rile baby brother up a little.”
“Do you do that often?”
“Whenever I get the opportunity. He was an insufferable little brat growing up. Always perfect, never in trouble.”
“Unlike yourself.”
“Yeah. At least come and meet the rest of the family. They are dying of curiosity.”