Page 17 of Carnal Urges

“I’m trying to pay you a compliment here.”

“No, you’re trying to drive me mad.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll shut up.”

He snorts.

“I’m serious. I’m going to be quiet from now on. But I’m warning you, you won’t like it.”

I find the lever on the side of the seat that lowers it back. Reclining, I try to get comfortable and close my eyes.

The car slows. Declan rolls down his window and shares a few curt words in Gaelic with one of his men from the SUVs. Then we continue on, driving fast but controlled to who knows where.

I try to ignore the pounding in my head. I’m more successful at ignoring my throbbing shoulder and aching feet, but my head is truly painful. I hope it’s the aftereffects of the ketamine and not a concussion, because I seriously doubt Declan would agree to take me to a hospital to get my skull checked out for cracks.

“Feet off the dash.”

I bite my tongue and slide my feet off the dashboard and onto the floor.

“Thank you.”

I don’t respond. I’m sure it’s my imagination that makes me think I can feel him looking at me. Me and my legs.

After a long time, he says quietly, “You were right about something.”

It takes every ounce of willpower at my disposal not to respond.

When I don’t, he exhales a heavy breath. “I’m not going to hurt you. You have my word.”

I resist the urge to sit bolt upright in my seat and shoutHa!and pretend to snore a little instead.

His low chuckle is somehow the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.

I must fall asleep, because the next thing I know, Declan is lowering me from his strong arms onto a bed.

SIX

DECLAN

It’s a miracle this mouthy, overconfident little demon can look so sweet and innocent, but she manages it.

As I lower her onto the bed in the master bedroom, she blinks sleepily up at me. Her eyelids are heavy. Her cheeks are flushed. Her hair spills over the pillow, a mess of silky dark tresses I’d like to comb my fingers through—no. Christ. What am I thinking?

She’d bite them off.

Gazing up at me, she mumbles, “I want to tell you something, but I’m not talking to you. G’night, gangster.”

Then she rolls over onto her side and promptly falls back asleep.

I stand at the edge of the bed and stare down at her, amazed. She didn’t even ask where we are. Or where we’re going. She also didn’t bat an eyelash at all the corpses we left behind us.

I’ve never met anyone so resilient. So fearless. So damn…

Annoying.

Or so fit. She’s got legs like a dancer’s, long and lithe, and an arse I could bounce a quarter off. And those tits of hers—

Stop.