Illicit Temptation (Astoria Royals #3)

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Shea

“ N ot so terrible, aye?” Trace says, giving me a tour of a true woodsy hunting cabin.

Looking closer, I see the charm of the place.

“Come on.” Trace takes my hand, his other hand holding our bags, and steers me down a narrow corridor.

“What’s back there?”

“The bedroom.”

“One bedroom?”

“Aye. And one bed.”

I resist an eye roll. If there were more than one bed, he’d be sleeping next to me anyway.

A boxy room comes into view. It has a cathedral ceiling with dark beams. The far wall faces a thicket of tall trees.

“It gets dark out here, doesn’t it?”

“Aye.”

“And you’re stocked with flashlights and candles?”

“Planning on going somewhere?”

“No. Just concerned about the power.”

“The generator runs on solar cells and there’s plenty of oil in the shed if that fails. We’re only going to be here for a couple of days.”

“Food?”

“That’s the problem. The place isn’t stocked. I have to go into town.”

My heart rate ticks up. “Town? You’ve lived around here. Won’t people will recognize you?”

“I know how to get around that.” He takes out a hat and shades from one duffel. Another large and bulky one sits tucked in a corner.

“Maybe a fake mustache will help,” I suggest.

“Don’t need that.” Smiling, he takes out his wallet. “In the past year, I grew in the real thing that my old friends here haven’t ever seen.”

He hands me his military ID and his Leinster House ID, each with the version of the man I met in Vegas. He kept his hair close-cropped and his face smooth, the sharp angles of his jaw so pronounced. He looks fierce and deadly in these ID photos.

Now with his hair grown out and a trimmed dark beard, he looks wild and feral.

Trace puts the ID away and without any warning, snaps a handcuff around my wrist.

“Wait. No.” I struggle against him, but he’s too strong.

“It’s for your own good.” He brings me to the iron bed frame.

“This is just great.” I clear my voice. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t trust me?”

“No.” He grips my face. “And take that as a compliment because I love your insane sacrificial gesture.”

“By now, they’ll know we’ve taken off, and I’m not sure strolling into Malone’s mansion is an option any longer.”

Trace thinks about that but fastens me to the bed anyway. “Maybe not with a hero’s welcome. But you’d still be received.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw how he looked at you,” Trace growls.

I scoff a laugh. “And this is it? I go back to New York, and he won’t fly there to—”

His icy glare stops me.

“Never mind.”

“When we’re back in the States and we’re living in my Manhattan apartment, there will be guards in the lobby and a drone circling the building.”

“Great.” I swallow thickly, fearing the freedom I enjoyed is over. The career I had smashed.

“It won’t be forever.” Trace prepares for his mission in town but has the decency to leave a bottle of cold spring water on the nightstand. “Any requests?”

Shrugging, I say, “Just some basics, we’re not staying long, right?”

“Aye.” He shoves a hand through his hair. “And if we can’t get a flight, we can’t stay here, either.”

“Then what?”

His jaw ticks up. “Algeria.”

I jump up so fast that I jam my wrist against the metal. “Ouch. What? What the hell is in Algeria?”

“A drug lord who wants Malone dead, too.” He sits me down, rubbing my wrist. “It won’t come to that. I lived here my whole life. I’ve got military mates to call on.”

Makes me wonder why he’s not calling his cousins.

Oh, right. He kidnapped me.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but I lay on the bed and close my eyes. Seconds later, exhaustion claims me.

My sore wrist which started feeling warm from the metal handcuff turns cool when an icepack is laid across the aching joint. I open my eyes and find Trace, unharmed, sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling.

“I’ve got good news and bad news.”

Biting my lower lip, I utter with a dry throat, “I don’t see how any news can be good.”

He lifts me onto his lap. “First good news, I got us food, including steaks I can cook on the grill out back, greens for a salad, and potatoes to bake or mash, whatever your preference.”

My stomach rumbles at that. “More good news?”

He strokes my cheek. “I have a flight reserved for us the day after tomorrow.”

“Won’t Malone be checking manifests?”

“Not on a cargo flight to Greenland.”

“We’re going to Greenland? ”

“For a diversion, yes. A private plane will be waiting for us there.”

“Okay, what’s the bad news?”

“There’s more good news.” He crashes his mouth down on mine. “ You’re not mad at me anymore.”

I lose my breath from the kiss. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Can you please get over it, so we can have some killer make-up sex?”

“Do you even hear yourself?” I cross my arms. “Does the bravado clog your hearing? I. Am. Mad. At. You. You should have told me about Scava.”

Trace nods. “I worried you’d see him as a better option than me. And I wasn’t sure he’d overlook your inability to have children.”

The brash honesty hits me in the chest. “Why do you seem so unaffected by that fact?”

“Mostly because I’d rather have you than a bunch of brats.”

I exhale. “I come with lots of brats. They’re called nieces and nephews.”

“Those are the best kinds of brats.” He leans down and kisses me on the nose. “You play with them, feed them whatever they want, and then they go home.”

I snort a laugh but try to hide it. “You’re impossible.”

“Honestly, Shea?” His serious tone startles me. “I never saw myself having kids. Never thought about being a father. I went through things in the military that messed me up. In the Syrian war, the carnage was life-altering. I’d been trained to fight and protect. After what Malone did to me, I’m more suited to my line of work than fatherhood.” He takes off his shirt to remind me of his scars.

Gently, I press a kiss to each one. “I bet Lachlan thought the same thing. Now he’s thrilled to be a father.” Although, I think he’s been calmed by his wife who’s the sweetest thing in the world. She’s the sugar to his salt. She’s given him so much love, and a baby is a part of that.

I’m not exactly the sweetest thing in the world. I’m a businesswoman, hard-headed, and stubborn. Mouthy and independent.

“Hey, what’s the bad news?” I remember we didn’t get to that one.

A grim expression overtakes Trace’s face. “Your brothers and your mum left on Kieran’s plane an hour ago. If my plan fails, we’re on our own.”