“It is exactly what I want. And who would you be sending over to us?” Colum glanced at Peter.
Not a chance. “Go get Tony,” I called to George at the front door.
He walked out and came back in a few moments with a guy about Angus’s age.
I motioned him over. “This is Tony. He runs security around here.” Not a total lie. Technically, George was head of security, with Tony as his second in command. But I wasn’t going to give up any key players when we were on the verge of all-out war with the Russians.
“Tony?” Colum sized him up. “Sounds good to me.”
Tony shot me a confused look.
“You’ll be interning with the Irish for a few weeks. Be on your best behavior.” I had no doubt Peter would show Tony the finer points of spying and relaying information back before he left for his Irish assignment.
“Okay.” Tony was smart enough to keep his questions to himself.
“We can swap this afternoon. I assume they need to get some things together before the exchange,” Colum said.
Angus shot another look down the hallway toward the pool. “I’ll be back this afternoon.”
The booze had mostly worn off, but I’d never let sobriety stop me from being an ass, and I wouldn’t start now. “Sabrina is off limits.”
“Come now.” Colum clapped me on the back. “Angus will mind his manners. Won’t you, son?”
“Of course.” He snapped his gaze back to mine. “You have nothing to worry about, Mr. Franco.”
At least the kid had the sense to address me with respect. I’d give him that. “Good. I’ll see you back here this afternoon. The housekeeper will prepare a room for you.”
“Thank you.”
I showed them out, everyone having a laugh at Sully who leaned against the Escalade, dust on his pants and an oil stain on his shirt.
“No bombs, eh?” I waved.
He glowered.
Once they were gone, George closed the door, and I turned abruptly and headed toward the pool.
“Hey, we need to talk about what went down with the Irish.” Peter dogged my heels.
“Later.”
“Nate—”
“I said later.” Nothing would keep me from Sabrina. Not now.
He made a frustrated sound and stopped as I continued down the hall and out into the sun. Sabrina swam beneath the water’s surface, her long blonde hair flowing out behind her as she shot along the bottom.
I stopped dead when I saw her white bikini lying on the concrete at my feet.
Chapter Twelve
Sabrina
I wasn’t going to waste another second crying over Nate Franco. Instead, I let the water flow over me, washing away the tears from the morning. Maybe he was right. Maybe we were over. My heart ached at the thought, and I didn’t believe it. I could be pissed all I wanted, but I knew that Nate was it for me. I just wish he felt the same way.
Hitting the wall, I flipped and shot out toward the other side. A huge splash, then rough hands on me had me sputtering to the surface.
“What the—”
“You’re naked!” Nate draped his soaked suit jacket around me and pulled me to him.
“So what?” Indignation wrapped my words in a stranglehold. “You didn’t have a problem when I was naked out here earlier.”
“That was different.”
“How?” I swiped the wet hair from my face and glared at him.
“Because then I was between your legs and you were screaming my name.” Water dripped down his face and rested on his dark lashes like round crystals.
“Get off me.” My cheeks heated at the memory.
“No.” His arms tightened around my back.
“Why do you care?” I yelled in his face as he spun me and floated us toward the side of the pool. “You think I’m just some dumb kid who doesn’t have a clue.”
“No, I don’t.” His wet hair stuck up at funny angles. He looked younger, just like the Nate I’d fallen in love with. “I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean to—”
“Completely discount my feelings and treat me like a child?” I supplied.
He swallowed hard. “Yeah, that.”
“Why the sudden change of heart?”
“I-I had a few drinks.”
I scoffed. “You had to get liquored up to come to this conclusion?”
“I do my best thinking when I’m lit.” He seemed completely serious.
I wanted to hit him and kiss him at the same time. “So now you’re sorry?”
“I’m sorry for not listening to you. For all the stupid things that came out of my mouth.”
“Are you sorry for what you did to me on the grass, too?”
He blinked as if I’d slapped him. “Hell no. I’ll never be sorry for that.”
A little spark of heat fizzed to life in my heart. “So this is another sorry, not sorry. Like you did when you spanked me?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I mean yes? I’m not sure. I’m sorry about what I said, I’m not sorry about what I did. So, sort of?”