Page 4 of Beyond Enemy Vows

He slides it into my hand, his fingers lingering for a second. "You'll regret it if you don't."

We stare at each other for a moment. A million responses come to my mind, but none of them make it past my lips.

Suddenly Keira appears, and I know I shouldn't, but my fingers slip Niko's napkin into my clutch anyway.

"Sorry, but your brothers are asking for you," she says.

I'm going to walk away now, I realize, and suddenly I don't want to. I'm intrigued. Curious. But he moves first, with a slight incline of his head that's almost a bow, leaving me standing there questioning things.

"Well?" Keira asks, approaching. "You look like someone just kissed you without touching you."

I swallow. "Yeah, weird catch-up. He wants to come to Ireland. Meet me for a drink."

"Oh fuck."

"I didn't give him the address. Even if I did, I don't think he'd come."

"What? You're sexy as hell, Calli. If I was a guy and thought I had a shot, I'd go a hell of a lot further than Ireland for you."

I watch the back of him as he vanishes back into the crowd.

My chest is tight.

I should just ignore this. Ignore him. It's too dangerous. My brothers would—I mean, if Ares knew I even spoke to him, there'd be blood on the floor.

I stop my thoughts and shake my head.

I just won't text him.

But even as I think it, I know I'm lying to myself.

Shit.

Why does it feel good to be seen by the wrong man?

2

CALLI

The embers crackle, popping and snapping as I stare at the orange flames. Wind whistles through the cracks around the old cottage windows, making the fire dance and flicker. Rain hits against the glass.

Three days.

That's how long I've been at the Killaney cottage. Three full days of silence except for the occasional sound of sheep that scream in the distance like they know something I don't.

Keira and her brothers were supposed to come tomorrow. Now it's next week.

They say they got held up. I told them I'd be fine here alone.

And I am.

Sort of.

The "peace and quiet" I wanted has left me more wired than I was in Chicago. The cottage is beautiful in that old-world way. Stone walls, thick windows, a fireplace that takes work to light.I thought the silence would help me reset. No brothers. No questions. No bodyguards lurking like shadows.

Just me.

But it turns out, silence talks back.