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“No.”

“Put them on and come here.”

She does, walking carefully to me. Those shoes are high, and she rubs against me. I take a nipple and twist, then shove a hand into her panties to roughly finger her. The moment she moans and starts to rock on me, I stop.

“Finish getting dressed.”

“You—”

“Please.”

She’s flushed all over, and her juices cling to my fingers. I suck them as she finishes getting dressed and I taste us both.

What I want is another round with her, maybe her on top, riding me, or sucking my dick as I eat her out before I take that sweet, delicious ass again.

But I force myself to think of my late-evening work, andthen I ask her something I should have earlier. “Has your sister contacted you again?”

Concern flashes. “No. Do you think she’s in trouble?”

“How do you know it was your sister who texted you that night?” I ask gently.

She shrugs and frowns. “Because there’s no one else who’d text.”

“Parents, friends?”

Her eyes drop, then she turns and I zip up the dress, skimming a knuckle over her spine as I do so. “I don’t have those sort of friends. And I haven’t heard from my parents since we got married.”

That makes me pause. “Not even once?”

“I’m your problem now.”

And I’m glad for it.

I smile at her, running my gaze over her curves in the dress. “Good. I need to take care of some things, but Torin and Dec will be here. Along with guards.”

They’re not a personal choice for me. The Murphys take care of themselves. But until I sort out the who behind the bomb and find that fucker, O’Sullivan, I want her guarded. That extra touch that announces hands the fuck off.

“And then we’re going somewhere, right?” Lucie asks.

I laugh. “What would you do if I said no, love?”

She licks her lips. “Spend the rest of your money.”

“I’d like to see you try.” I’m guessing Lucie has no idea how rich I am, how powerful I am. Or maybe she just doesn’t care.

“And,” she adds, “I’d ask why I’m dressed up?”

“Viewing pleasure.” I brush my mouth over hers. “I’ll be back. Be ready for a late dinner. I want to check out a club and restaurant I’m interested in.”

With that, I head downstairs where Seamus is going over some paperwork. “Torin has something.”

I go still.

“Paddy?”

But Torin comes up with the fucking fur scrap in his hands, Arnold anxious at his side. Goddamn cat.

“No,” he says. Tor, not the cat. “You mentioned something about Lucie’s sister contacting her earlier in the week?”