Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“Would you like to have a wee drink with me?” he asked.
Eimear looked at him. He was bold, she’d give him that. She started to say no. Ciaron would be livid if Kirby told him she had engaged with a strange man in town. Instead, she found herself agreeing to have a drink with him out by the harbor and following him to the exit, hopefully before Kirby could catch up to her. It was all she could do not to chuckle as she stepped out into the daylight, savoring her little adventure.
“I’m sorry. I should probably know your name if we are going to have a drink together,” she told him.
“Fergus.”
“Nice to meet you, Fergus. I’m Eimear.”
“I know,” he replied.
Eimear barely had time to register being alarmed before his hand was over her mouth and he was dragging her around the corner of a building. She saw two men waiting by the back doors of an open work van, and then he was dragging her inside as they closed the doors behind them. He continued to hold her as they started the vehicle and pulled away from the curb. She tried to speak as he removed his hand, but a third man quickly replaced it with duct tape. Everything went dark as a hood or bag of some sort was pulled down over her head.
Perhaps losing Kirby had been a mistake, she told herself in the moments of lucid thought she managed between the waves of panic that followed.
CHAPTER FIVE
Fergus
“Did you make contact?” Olcan asked.
“Aye. That I did,” Fergus replied.
“What did he say?”
“The usual. If I hurt her, he’ll have my head on a plate.”
“No idea who he’s dealing with,” Olcan laughed.
“None, but he will soon enough.”
“What do we do now?”
“Wait.”
“You think he’ll come about?”
“Not a chance. He’ll send his goons to find her, and when they fail, he’ll come for her himself,” Fergus told him.
“Assuming he loves her. She might just be a throw-off to him.”
“Aye, but he’ll not be wanting his lads to know he let his bride be captured and killed by his enemies. He’ll come for her, sure enough.”
“I hope you’re right. Be a bloody shame to waste such a wee beauty.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. You know how I feel about bringing harm to a lass, wee beauty or not.”
“Aye,” Olcan replied. “I’m going to get some lunch. You want anything?”
“Burger and chips would be nice. Bring her one too. She’s bound to be getting hungry sooner or later.”
Olcan left without another word. Their brothers had gone to ditch the van they had stolen for the purposes of bringing her here and a few members of their clan patrolled the outer area of the warehouse, leaving Fergus alone with Eimear. He reached out and pulled off the burlap sack Niall had put over her head earlier.
He was met with a pair of outraged blue eyes, and a mop of red curly hair spilled from beneath it to greet him. He smiled. It had not escaped him that she was fucking gorgeous when he’d shadowed her and finally made contact. She was even more alluring all fired up like this.
He reached out and yanked the duct tape off her mouth, causing her to wince and make a loud groaning sound of complaint, but she never took her eyes off of him. She was studying his face, oblivious to how little good it would do her. He smiled at her.
“You’re quite stunning when you’re pissed off,” he said. “Like a wild animal in heat.”
“How dare you!” she gasped.
He’d give it to her. Most women in her position would be terrified, crying and pleading for release. Not this one. She was a snapping turtle trapped in a child’s shoebox on a summer day. It made him laugh, which only fueled her anger.
“You think this is funny? I’m getting married in three days. My fiancé is going to find me and have you thrown in prison for the rest of your miserable life.”
“They don’t make prisons for people like me, love.”
“Don’t be so cocky. You’re about to have a rude awakening.”
“I think not. I think you might be the one in for a bit of a shock.”
“We’ll see,” she said stubbornly, but he could see the hint of doubt in her eyes.
“If you think your fiancé would ever have me put in prison, then you have no idea who he is,” he told her, pulling a chair over and sitting down to face her.
“He’s a very wealthy man. He knows a lot of people—police and judges.”
“As do I. Most of the mafia families in this town know people, especially cops.”
“Mafia? Ciaron isn’t mafia. He’s a businessman.”
“Right. Surely, you don’t believe that.”
“Of course I do. He’s never given me any reason to believe otherwise.”
“Have you ever heard of Sidney Austrelia?”