Page 19

A idan ran along the street, barely breaking a sweat. Reilly kept pace easily and, perhaps more importantly, silently. Aidan did not want to discuss the events of his morning, and certainly not with Reilly.

They made their way through the streets of Boston’s Back Bay, and Aidan couldn’t help but notice the signs of spring. The trees showed their green, and some residents already filled their flower boxes with colorful tulips, daffodils, and peonies. It was pleasantly cool.

And still, Aidan couldn’t shake the tension from his body.

“Were you able to find anything out?” he finally asked.

Reilly slowed. “Aye.”

Aidan matched his pace. Reilly had a vast network with contacts in places Aidan couldn’t reach.

And despite their contentious relationship, Aidan would always fight to the death for Reilly, and he knew the feeling was mutual.

They’d been through so much together that they couldn’t not have genuine respect for each other, despite the constant needling.

Reilly avoided a large crack in the concrete. “We were followed here. He hasn’t figured out where we’re staying, I don’t believe. I’ve not yet determined how desperate he is to get to your Emma.”

“I wonder what he thinks she can give him?” Aidan slowed his pace further.

“Money?”

“I believe he drained her account.”

“So he took her money and destroyed her apartment,” Reilly mused, then stopped to take a drink. He swallowed and continued, “And, of course, the bastard threatened her. Do you think he laid a hand on her?”

“She didn’t say,” Aidan replied, the hair on the back of his neck rising. “I didn’t want to pry if she wasn’t ready to talk. If he did, he’ll pay for it.”

Reilly slanted a glance at Aidan, and they both realized at the same time that the feeling on their necks hadn’t anything to do with the thought of Emma being manhandled.

The weak morning sunlight glinted off a sharp switchblade, aimed point-blank at Aidan’s throat.

“Where’s my fiancée?” the knife wielder demanded, his voice low.

Aidan gave Reilly a look, as though to say Is this lad serious? , and that was enough to set the man off. He rushed Aidan at the same time another man came at Reilly from behind.

Aidan caught Ben MacDermott by the wrist and wrestled him to the ground.

He sucked in a breath when the man’s foot connected with his shin.

He felt the knife tip graze his chest, and his anger flared.

Aidan slammed MacDermott’s wrist against the hard concrete and felt the satisfying crunch of bone.

MacDermott’s knee came up, and Aidan easily deflected it, clucking his tongue.

“Playing dirty, Benjamin?”

“She belongs to me,” he grunted as cradled his wrist. “Wherever you take her, wherever you hide her, I will find her.” He spat in Aidan’s face .

Aidan wiped the spit from his eyes and realized too late he’d given Ben an opening—he received a swift and painful head-butt to the nose. Blood spurted immediately, and Aidan’s patience snapped.

“Not likely, Romeo. She’s under my protection now.”

He gave a swift jab to the man’s Adam’s apple, making him choke for breath, then flipped him onto his stomach and pried the knife from his hand. Quickly, he slammed the hilt of the knife against Ben’s cranium, knocking him out.

Reilly sat on the bench, brushing the dirt from his hands as his assailant lay blissfully unconscious and sported a nasty bruise and broken nose. Reilly gave a jerk of his head at Ben. “Kill him?”

“I wanted to,” Aidan growled, slowly standing and shaking out his wrists.

“Why didn’t you?”

Sirens sounded nearby, and Aidan clenched his jaw. “He’s not worth the punishment here. In my time, a sword to the stomach would end this, and that would be that.”

“You know how I loathe agreeing with you, but in this case, you’re correct. Let’s go, before the cops get here. I have no desire to spend my morning filling out endless paperwork.”

Aidan took one last look at the sorry excuse for a man Emma had almost married. His skin was sallow, his frame thin. “I want to haul this lout over my shoulder, toss him in a dungeon, then force the answers out of him. Does he work alone? Are there others who will go after her if he dies?”

“Careful,” Reilly murmured, steering Aidan away from the unconscious man. “Your medieval is showing.”

Lying on the couch in the front living room, Emma was so absorbed in the romance novel she’d found in Colin’s office ( which he swore up and down belonged to his late cousin), she almost didn’t hear Aidan and Reilly come in the front door.

The soft click brought her awareness to the present and she marked her page before sitting up.

She let out a strangled scream.

Aidan was covered in blood, and his shirt was ripped across his chest. Reilly looked…well, he looked as though he’d just gone for a run. Not even a hair out of place.

“What happened?” she cried, scrambling off the couch and racing to them. She glared at Reilly. “I think your ridiculous fighting crossed a line here, don’t you?” She frantically ran her fingers over Aidan’s chest and arms, checking for wounds.

He caught her hands in his own. “Emmaline.” He repeated her name again, and she looked at him. “I’m fine. We were attacked, but it was nothing. The bugger just happened to hit me in the right spot. ‘Tisn’t broken.”

“What about your shirt?” she asked. The tear was long and neatly done, as though someone had taken scissors to it and cut a long line.

“You know, I was hurt too,” Reilly interjected.

“I don’t see you covered in blood,” Emma said in disbelief.

“I’ll go have a shower, then,” Aidan said, gently disentangling his fingers from hers. “Perhaps when I get out, you can check me for injury.”

Emma’s face flamed.

She threw her hands on her hips and gave Reilly a quick once-over. “What happened? Random attack?”

Reilly waved her in front of him and she led him into the guest bathroom. He pulled down a first-aid kit from behind the mirror and handed it to her. “I’ll let Aidan have the glory of telling you. Go tend to him, but be careful, lass.”

“Why do you say that?” she wondered aloud, holding his gaze .

“Because he can’t say it himself.”

She blinked. “How long have you known Aidan?” she asked.

He answered without hesitation. “Many years.”

“And in those many years, how many women have you warned off him?”

He leveled a stare at her. “Not a one.”

Her mouth dropped, and she clutched the kit against her chest as he gave her a swift nod and brushed by her.

Talk about mixed signals , she thought as he headed upstairs. She flicked the bathroom light off and glanced up the stairs after him. He warned her to stay away from Aidan, but handed her a first-aid kit, which he himself clearly didn’t need.

Aidan, however…

Her brows knit, and she wondered if she would ever understand men.

She wasn’t sure she could stay away from Aidan. Each time his lips touched hers, an explosion went off inside her brain, and she was powerless against it. Their attraction seemed quite mutual, but he was her boss. She wouldn’t lower herself to sleeping with him.

That’s what she told herself every time she caught his eyes. And the refrain echoed hollowly in her own mind. And she’d gone back and forth about her ethics almost since the moment she met him.

Never before had she been so tempted by a man.

Emma had wasted years on the wrong guy. She’d only dated a couple of guys before she met Ben, and that was it.

She filled out a profile on Celtic Connections, sure—but nothing ever came of it.

She had turned down each date they offered her until she deactivated her profile.

None of the men made her want to take a chance.

If she were honest with herself, she knew there was something between her and Aidan. She would also admit that she would be a fool not to explore it. But she’d been a fool before, and she once again took stock of her life.

On the run, in a strange man’s home, lusting after her boss.

Oh yeah. Desirable qualities, all.

She heard the shower stop, and drew a deep breath. But maybe this one would be different. He wasn’t pushing her for anything, and in fact seemed as reluctant as she was. Perhaps she should take a chance. She never took chances, and thus far in her life she’d merely hung on for the ride.

She caught sight of herself in the hall mirror. She was stronger than she was when she was with Ben.

She knew what she wanted out of life, though the details on how to get it were a bit fuzzy at the moment.

But she had her life, she had a man who clearly desired her, and she had at least some courage in her back pocket.

She looked into her own eyes and nodded firmly. If the Universe was telling her to get on with her life, she’d start right now, with this man.

If Aidan wanted to stay away from her, he could. But she wasn’t going to stay away from him unless she received a clear message from the Universe, or heard the words directly from his mouth.

Aidan rested his head against the tile and let the cool air from the bathroom seep into the shower. His shoulders wouldn’t relax, and his thoughts wouldn’t slow down.

All because of one blonde, blue-eyed publicist who had stirred more feeling in his chest in a few days than all other women in the whole of his life combined.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out. He ran his hands through his hair and inspected himself for damage. The small scrape across his chest barely garnered notice; he’d sustained much worse injuries from much larger blades without complaint.