“I’ve been told that neither of you is allowed on the property.”
“Will you just go tell her I’m here?” I ask exasperatedly. “Tell her I have information she really needs to know. She can make up her own mind.”
There’s a moment’s hesitation, and at first, I think he might be about to tell me again to leave. I’m not sure what to say if he does. But then the intercom clicks. “Wait there,” he says gruffly, and it switches off.
I sit there for what feels like too long, tapping my nails against the bare skin of my knee below the hem of my dress. I have no idea what he’s going to say when he comes back, but eventually, the gruff voice returns.
“She said she’ll see you. Come on in.”
The iron gates open, and my car pulls forward, up the winding gravel drive to the courtyard with a fountain, the sprawling estate house in front of me. I get out, smoothing down the skirt of my dress, feeling my stomach cramp with nerves. I haven’t been to the McGregor estate since I was much younger, and these aren’t really the circumstances under which I wanted to show up. But I’ve taken it upon myself to try to fix this, and I can’t leave now.
I’m greeted at the door by an older lady in a black dress who escorts me to a room with soft upholstered couches and a fireplace, like our parlor at my family’s home. “Have a seat,” she says stiffly and then leaves.
I look around the room while I wait, taking in the expensive patterned rugs, the floral wallpaper, and the heavy drapes. I try to imagine living here, this being my home, and it’s difficult. I’m sure Connor won’t care if I redecorate, but it’s more than that. Our condo downtown feels more like home than this does. This feels huge and ornate, like a palace to rattle around in.
The door opens, and I glance over to see Ana walking in. She’s wearing a pair of blue yoga pants and a long top over her slightly rounded stomach, her hair pulled back away from her face in a loose, low bun. She looks tired, her face drawn and dark circles under her eyes, as if she hasn’t been sleeping well.
That makes two of us,I think grimly. The weekend in Japan was the best sleep I’ve gotten in some time, but that was lost by the last night. I’m back to sleeping restlessly.
“You have something you need to tell me?” Ana’s voice is sharp and thin as she goes to sit on the couch across from me, matching her petite face. “Liam won’t be happy you’re here, but I suppose for you to come here, it must be important.”
“It is.” I lace my fingers together in my lap, taking a breath. It feels like I was right to come here; Ana looks fragile, as I’d expected. “Connor wants you and Liam to leave the estate. He’s prepared to take steps to—make sure that happens.”
Ana frowns. “I already know he wants us to leave. Liam’s told me. Is that all?”
“I wanted you to understand how serious he is. He’ll have men come and—make sure you leave. I know you have a place to go, but that doesn’t mean—”
Ana pales slightly. “So he’s going to throw us out.” Her voice is flat. “He’s done waiting on Liam to concede.”
“Basically.” I lean forward. “Anastasia, you need to convince Liam to at least move you out of here and back to the penthouse. This isn’t safe.”
She presses her lips together. “I’m actually inclined to agree with you, Saoirse, as odd as that feels to say. I don’t even really like this house.” Ana gives a small laugh. “But I have to support Liam. It’s important for him to be here. To make this stand. And I—”
“It’s important to Connor, too,” I say tightly, cutting her off. “And his men are rougher than Liam’s. They—”
The doors open again, this time with a slam, and we both look up sharply to see Liam stalking into the room, a dark look on his chiseled, bearded face. His green eyes are glittering angrily, and they focus immediately on me.
“You’re not welcome here, Saoirse,” he says sharply. “You or my brother. Get out.”
“I just came to tell Anastasia—”
“Connor is going to have us thrown out if we don’t leave,” Ana says softly. “Liam, maybe we should consider—”
“No.” The finality in his voice rings through the room. “Absolutely fucking not. It’s tantamount to saying the seat isn’t truly mine if we give up the estate to Connor. We might as well go ahead and leave Boston. We’ve talked about this—”
“Liam, you need to be reasonable—” I start to say, but his glare turns on me with a ferocity that makes me shrink back; the rage in his eyes is so palpable.
“Howdareyou come here, upset my wife—” his voice is almost shaking. “Get the fuckout, Saoirse. Get out!”
His voice rises, and I scramble up from the couch, backing out of the room as Liam goes to Ana, whose eyes are starting to swim with tears. I hurry down the hall so quickly that I barely register the hand on my arm as I’m pulled into a room, the door closing behind me before I can say a word.
I know who it must be before seeing his chiseled features or dark blue eyes. “Niall,” I breathe, but his name barely leaves my lips before his mouth is on mine, his muscled body backing me against the door as his hands grip my upper arms.
He kisses me hungrily, devouring my mouth, his tongue pushing between my lips and tangling with mine as he rocks against me, pinning me to the door. His kiss and his need steal my breath away, making me moan helplessly as he kisses me like a dying, starving man, his black hair falling over his forehead and against my face.
When he finally breaks the kiss, both of us panting, he doesn’t let go of me. “Saoirse.” He whispers my name, and my eyes flutter closed.
“You never answered my text,” he murmurs. “After the fire. You didn’t speak to me—”