“Sweetie,” I finally intervene when it appears the teenager might pummel him with her fists.
“But,” Kiera pants the name of her horse.
“Your wrath belongs with your brother, not the guys who oversee Kieran’s orders.” I glance out the window. “Looks like rain.”
“We’re in Ireland, Ava. Rain is inevitable! It’s uhm . . . refreshing.”
Cool it, chica.I find myself smiling at her. “When I was young, my mama loved puzzles. We were far from rich, so she’d purchase these second-hand puzzle boxes from a farmer’s market. Let me tell you.” I wave a hand. The man pinned beneath Kiera’s scrutiny eases into a stiff, alert stance instead of a defensive, worried scowl.
“She’d hound the seller if we had a box missing a piece. Till this day, I can feel her dread after putting together an entire puzzle, and one single friggen piece is missing.”
Kiera sighs. “Oh, I hate that.”
“It’s a sin. Now, let’s see if this place has a couple of puzzles.”
* * *
It took sheer dedication to squeeze into the tight, navy riding pants so they stay on. But I’ve removed the matching vest and loosened the top buttons on my linen shirt. A fire crackles in the hearth. I sit in a comfy chair, mulling over a lilac purple piece that seems to fit virtually anywhere on a half-constructed wisteria tree. The puzzle’s the perfect replica of the blooming wisteria framing the driveway into this beautiful manor.
“That’s the thing about these puzzles. They’re a sight, yet the similar coloring, we will be here until the second coming.”
I look up, and Kiera’s not laughing at my joke. Though she was a firecracker earlier, now, her chair has grown exceedingly comfy with the rain drumming against the windowpane. A light snore comes from her lips.
“Don’t feel bad.” Kieran’s deep, captivating voice sends my gaze seeking him out. I grow a hundred degrees hotter, staring into his smoldering gray eyes. He’s in another pair of jeans, and his signature button-up displays a fraction of a furious skull at his chest.
The bastard, so friggen aware of my desire for him, has a cocksure smile on his face. “When Kiera was but a bairn and begged me to help her with a puzzle, she’d find one piece. I’d have finished the darn thing, mind you, it was a simple ten-piece puzzle for awean, then I’d hear snoring. She’s sprawled out, a fly about ready to crawl into her mouth, saliva running over the chubbiest of cheeks.”
The ghost of a tangible, wonderful memory lingers between us. It leaves me without a doubt that Kieran truly has the capacity to love—and love hard. He swaggers over, lustful eyelids hooded. Kieran settles onto the wooden block sofa table between his sister and me with his back to her. While he’s a man who shows affection, he’s also an alpha who makes no requests. He pulls me forward in my chair. My legs are pressed wide, thighs positioned around his waist.
The storm outside quiets into soft rainfall, and I’m able to hear my heartbeat annihilate the inside of my chest. Mouth agape, I whisper, “Kieran . . .”
He takes that as his cue to wedge a hand between our bodies. His fingers slide between the buttons of my polo shirt.
“Shhhh . . . I’ve got my mind on our next challenge.”
“Oye.”I stop short of cussing him in the smooth Spanish of my father’s language and the broken dialect of my mother’s Belizean.
“The challenge is.” He’s charismatic, breath teasing across the hollow of my neck while his thumb brushes the side of my mouth. “Tofecka smile on your face, little bird.”
“Ki-er-ahh’s a foot away from us.” My words hardly make a sound. Kieran laughs softly at the exaggerated twist in my lips.
“She’s asleep.” His reply shoots nerves down my veins. He’s not even lowering his fucking voice.Cabrón!
“Let me go, Kieran.” I shift my shoulders.
“Not until you smile for me.Not because I mentioned a cutesy response from the lassie. Smile for me.”
Oye Dios, the curveballs he throws.Laughter builds inside of me, along with a warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of my stomach like I’d gotten a calendar of twelve puppies. “Smile for me.” Kieran’s encouragement snaps a deep sinful chord in my tainted soul, giving it a little shine. But I’m not ready to fall hard for the male species, not now. I clear my throat. “You jealous of your little sister?”
“When it comes to you, damn right, Ava. You laugh with her, engage in conversation. I pull teeth.”
“Eh, I’d say you pull hair, smack, and choke. No pulling teeth, Kier. If I were missing one, I’d wager you’d suddenly come to your senses and opt not to see my smile.”
I pause a few beats.Alright, Ava, snarky joke. Now insert smile.
If I were born in another era, perhaps. If my parents were alive. If my . . . if...his obsession with my happiness would be a little less eerie—enduring—perhaps.
Burning hot hands plant over my body. One controls my hip while the other plucks more buttons, slipping into my linen shirt and beneath my bra. My nipples sharpen in desire.