It was. But I’m not tellinghimso.
Securing the bandage around my palm, Niall runs his fingers over the fabric, looking up, his eyes burning into mine. Our faces are less than a foot apart, and I lick my lips, a groan rumbling out of him.
Reaching up, he cups my cheek, running his thumb over the shadows beneath my eye.
“Ye still look tired, lass,” he murmurs. “Maybe ye need to take some time off.”
My breath catches as I squirm under the heat of his gaze.
“ I can’t afford to do that,” I say lightly.
It’s true. Only I’m not talking about money. Since I started working here, Hart has backed off. If he thinks I’m no longer under the protection of the Irish, he’ll start his threats again. That can’t happen. I won’t let it.
“Ye’re working yerself to the bone,amhuirnín,” Niall sighs. “Having an extra night off a week isn’t going to cost ye too much in lost wages.”
“And tips,” I snap at him, harsher than intended. Oops. My hand is throbbing like crazy, I’m still a little jealous over his fussing over Tiggy, and now I’m horny as all get out.
His eyes darken angrily, but I don’t think it’s because I snapped at him. I think he knows I mainly serve men and doesn’t like that they tip me well.
His voice is low and controlled and oh so smooth when he speaks. It’s his Reaper voice, and my panties melt. But while him using that voice has me dissolving, it also brooks no argument.
“Ye’ll be telling me how much ye usually make in a week, and I’ll be making sure Seamus pays ye that this week, and ye’ll be taking the week off.”
When I open my mouth to argue, his fierce glare has me shutting it again.
“Ye can’t work with a busted hand,” he points out. Damn him and his logic. “Get yer things. I’ll be taking ye home now.”
I’m still planning my argument when Niall leans forward, my words dying on my lips. He doesn’t kiss me again, but he does run his nose and lips along my hairline, pressing the faintest kiss against my temple.
I sigh as he lifts me down, stepping away from me too soon. I’m not ready for his heat to disappear from my body. While he has stepped back, his cinnamon and oak smell lingers in my nostrils.
“Be ready to go in ten minutes, lass,” he growls, turning on his heel and stalking out of the kitchenette. I stare after him with a dry mouth.
Because my hand stings wicked bad, I’m waiting at the door to the VIP room, awkwardly cradling my purse and light coat before Niall arrives. His eyes drop to my hands, and he takes my purse, placing a large, firm hand on my back to guide me to his SUV. I pray he can’t feel my thudding heart where his hand is pressed. That would be embarrassing.
Reaching his SUV, Niall opens the door and turns to me. Usually, he cups my elbow to help me in. Not today. Tucking my purse under his arm, he places his hands on my waist, hesitating for a moment as he inhales.
My cheeks flame. I’m notthatheavy. Surely. Before I can shuffle away from his hands in humiliation, Niall lifts me in one smooth motion, depositing me into the buttery leather seat.
I’m still blushing as he reaches across me to buckle my seatbelt. Pausing, still leaning over me, Niall inhales again. I press my thighs and lips together, my cheeks burning for a completely different reason. Christ. He wasn’t inhaling because he thought I was heavy…he wassmellingme. That’s wicked sexy.
Sliding into the SUV, Niall’s eyes dart to my hand, and he pulls out of the parking lot, ignoring the undercover cops for the first time ever.
We drive in our usual silence, though Niall exits the car when we get to my building. He lifts me out, his hand on my back guiding me to the door of the building.
I watch as he digs through my bag, retrieving my keys and unlocking the door. Handing me my purse, Niall pins me with his emerald-green eyes, wearing his Reaper face. I squirm at the sight, remembering his tongue licking into my mouth, and bite back a moan.
“Ye’re not to be worrying about money, lass,” he growls. “I’ll organize with Seamus to have ye paid what ye usually make in a week. Ye go up to yer apartment andrelax.”
The snort and eye roll happen without my brain’s permission, Niall’s eyes narrowing dangerously on my face.
“And who exactly will be working the VIP bar while I’mrelaxingall week?”
I don’t think he appreciates my sarcasm, one of his eyebrows quirking the tiniest amount. I’d love to be able to do that with my eyebrows. Unfortunately, they move in unison, no matter how hard I try.
“It’s Arthur’s job to find someone,” he grunts. So… there’s no one. The VIP bar is staffed by either myself or Arthur. There’s no one on short notice, especially not for tonight.
“Poor you,” I sigh. Niall frowns, rubbing the back of his neck.