Tiernan A Dark Irish Mafia Romance - Jane Henry Page 0,49

screeches, making Fiona laugh even louder.

“Oh my God!” I say, running to the kitchen for a tea towel, when the door bursts open and Tiernan runs in. If looks could kill, I’d be a dead girl. His eyes are flashing, his cheeks hot with anger. I haven’t seen him this angry since the night he killed my assailant.

“What is it?” I ask. I can feel the color draining out of my face. “Are you alright?”

He looks around the room. The other girls have gone still, all eyes on him. He exhales, leaning against the counter, and shakes his head.

“Heard screaming,” he mutters. “Thought you were in danger.”

“Oh, Tiernan.” I reach my arm to his shoulder, kneading the tight muscles. “We’re fine. We were just laughing, and we spilled some tea…” my voice trails off as I look to Fiona for help.

“My fault, Tiernan, so sorry,” she says briskly, wiping her hands on her trousers. “But relax. All good. I’ll just clean this up.”

“Leave it,” he says, waving a hand. “I need you all to leave. Thanks for keeping Aisling company, but the two of us need to talk now.”

“Tiernan, I—”

He holds his hand up to silence me. “They need to leave.”

My heart beats faster. What’s wrong? Did something happen while he was gone?

“See you tonight for supper, then?” Maeve asks.

Tiernan shakes his head. “We’ll be gone before then, thanks.”

I watch him in silence, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She gives him a brief hug. “You be careful, then,” she says. “And thanks for letting us borrow her for a little while.”

She walks over to me and kisses my cheek, then winks at Tiernan. “She’s lovely.”

His eyes shine. “She is.”

Fiona gives me a little wave as she leaves. “You be good to her, Tiernan Hurston,” she says sternly.

He glares, which makes her giggle, and Caitlin shakes her head. She waves to me, and the door shuts tight behind them.

I turn to face him. “Are you okay?”

He reaches for me, dragging me closer so that I’m standing in his space, caught between his arms, his forearms resting on my shoulders.

“I’m fine,” he says. “But we need to go sooner than later.”

I can’t help myself. I lean in and kiss the crease across his forehead until it relaxes, then I rest my head on his chest.

“Alright, then,” I say. “Let’s go.”

He holds me to him, rocking me gently back and forth, and my body instantly reacts. My pulse quickens and my palms are sweaty. He’s so strong and powerful, and he smells so fucking good. He reaches down and squeezes my arse.

“What I wouldn’t give to fuck you right now, right against this counter, until you screamed.” He bends and kisses my neck.

“Thought we had to go,” I manage to choke out. My eyes flutter closed.

“We do,” he whispers in my ear. “But you’re distracting me.”

“Me?” I say. “Ha! Hardly. You’re the one to blame here, sir.”

His large palm cracks against my arse. “Ah ah, you don’t. No deflecting of blame, babe.”

He pulls away with a groan and releases me. “You’re okay,” he says, running his hands over my arms until he reaches my fingers. “I was worried.”

I think back about what the girls said about their men. Guys like Tiernan likely meet a need by taking care of others. Tiernan clearly falls in this camp,

We pull away from one another with reluctance. He retrieves a travel bag from the closet and quickly packs, then takes my own meager possessions from the bathroom, as he fills me in.

“We’ve got some people coming up here soon,” he says. “Keenan’s hired them to change your appearance.”

I blink. “Oh?”

He nods, zipping up the bag. “Aye. We’ve no choice, Aisling. Your picture’s plastered all over the bloody paper. They think you were somehow responsible for Edmund Doyle’s death.”

“Edmund… Doyle?”

He sighs. “Prime minister’s son, Aisling.”

I sit heavily on the bed. “But I was, wasn’t I?”

He turns to face me, his eyes growing angry and dark.

“You bloody well weren’t. He assaulted you. I was the one ended him. Not you.”

I sigh and shake my head. “But if it wasn’t for me, you never would’ve… you wouldn’t have been entangled in all this.”

“And if he wasn’t a bloody fucking prick who deserved what he got, none of this would’ve happened as well.”

I shake my head with a sigh. “We could argue this all night.”

“Aye,” he says firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “But we won’t.”

We hear a knock at the door, and a moment later he ushers in an