Page 9 of Duncan (Irish Mob of Boston #1)

Duncan

It was almost eight o’clock. I sat in the dimly lit restaurant in a quiet corner booth and waited for mo bandia . I called in a favor and had Callum make the reservation. New York wasn’t my city. It was now his, though.

I didn’t have the same pull here I had in Boston, but I knew he wouldn’t disappoint me. I would have asked him if he knew anything about my date tonight, but like the fool I was, I still didn’t have her name.

I had her number, though. Giving it to Cian so he could run a check would have been the logical thing to do. But there was something about the mystery of it that excited me.

I sat with my whiskey, looking around the room. Men and women filled the space, dressed in their best. I recognized a few faces. The criminal underworld was a vast place, but a lot of it centered on the major cities: New York, Las Vegas, New Orleans, and Chicago.

Boston was well-known, but a smaller city. It was how we kept off the radar more than some of the other organizations. We didn’t have buildings in the heart of downtown blowing up, creating news stories that placed a giant red target on our heads.

As my gaze traveled around the room again, it froze at the entrance. She was here. I watched as the hostess helped her with her coat. The dress she wore beneath was the stuff wet dreams were made of.

Her slim shoulders were bare, the top tying around her neck. Leaving the perfect path for my lips to caress. The ruffles around her hips swished with every step she took.

As she made her way toward me, I willed my cock to settle down before I had to stand and greet her.

Would it be embarrassing? Not for me. I wanted nothing more than for her to see what she was doing to me.

But the hostess who walked her to the table?

Yea, that girl was barely twenty years old.

That was a gap I would never consider. I wasn’t sure how old mo bandia was, but she looked like she could be in her thirties.

Please God, let her be in her thirties.

The thought that she might be over twenty years my junior was exactly what I needed to flatten the tent created in my suit pants. But as I stood, I buttoned my jacket anyway.

“ Mo bandia.” I took her hand in mine and brought it to my lips. Her skin was smooth and soft. The slight fragrance of perfume wafted from her wrist, daring me to press my lips against it.

Who was I to ignore a dare?

I turned her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist before pulling her closer. “You are breathtaking.”

“Thank you, Duncan. You are quite handsome yourself.”

Her smile wavered, and I wondered what had her on edge. “Please sit.” I pulled the chair out for her, then took my own. “I was concerned you might cancel.”

“I considered it,” she answered honestly, and my chest tightened. This woman was different. I had known that from the first moment I laid eyes on her as she fell into my arms. But her honesty floored me at every turn.

“But you came.”

“I did.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what her hesitation was. I didn’t think I could be as honest as she was, unless it was to tell her how much I wanted her in my bed.

Sal’s words were in the back of my mind. I knew nothing about this woman. She could be a honey trap in so many ways. Maybe her only desire was to get me alone and steal what money I had on me. Which was always at least a few grand.

If that was her goal, I would gladly hand over every bill I had for just a taste of what she had to offer.

But there was also the possibility she was working for Kelley, or worse, Tyran. Earlier, when he knocked her down on the street, he turned and said something to her. We were all too far away to hear it.

It could have been something as simple as him being an asshole, or he could have told her one of us were her mark.

The more I thought about it, the more I considered the coincidences. What were the odds that a beautiful young woman would fall into my arms on the rare day I was in the city?

Then that same woman being in my path weeks later, when the boys and I were chasing Tyran through the crowded streets. Only for her to end up once again falling to the ground, where I stopped to help her.

Dammit, Sal!

Shaking my head, I tried to expel my boss from my mind. I didn’t need him fucking this up for me. Regardless of why she was here, I wanted her. I hadn’t gotten to where I was by being stupid or na?ve.

“Well, now that we’re on a date, maybe you’ll tell me your name.”

“I wasn’t hiding it. You never asked. Instead, choosing to call me mo bandia ,” she countered, and she was right. Her name hadn’t mattered until my boss got inside my head and laid down his conspiracy theories and doubts.

“What is your name?” I asked with a smile. Though I was now questioning why she was hesitant to tell me.

“Freyja Malpas.”

“Freyja, that’s Scandinavian,” I remarked.

“It is. Though my father is Greek.”

The waiter came and took our order, interrupting the flow of conversation for only a moment. Freyja took a sip from her wine and looked around the room.

“Looking for someone?”

“No, just wondering who is out tonight. You know how quickly rumors and gossip travel in the city. Just want to prepare myself for anything that might hit the papers tomorrow.”

“Do you find yourself the subject of these papers?”

“On occasion. Everyone who’s anyone in New York does.”

“Miss Malpas, it’s good to see you tonight. Though you might want to consider changing your current company.”

“Maxim,” I greeted. Freyja smiled at Maxim, and my back teeth ground together. Maxim Federov was one of the many reasons I hated this city.

“What brings you to the city, Duncan?”

“Just tying up some loose ends.”

“Hmmm, those ties do tend to fray in some circles when they aren’t kept tightly together.”

“Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Federov. I will tell my parents you said hello.”

I never took my eyes off Maxim, but my surprise mirrored his own when Freyja spoke out.

“Please do.” He nodded at Freyja in goodbye, but before he left, he looked at me. “Please let Miss Kelley know she is welcome at the park.”

My hand fisted on my leg, and Freyja placed her hand over it. Immediately, the tension in my shoulders relaxed, and I opened my hand so she could lace her fingers with mine.

“I’ll tell her. Though I wouldn’t expect to see her again.”

“That’s too bad. My son would benefit greatly from meeting her.”

He walked off before I could respond.

Freyja squeezed my hand, and when I looked at her, all I saw was concern.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” Though my voice was tight. “Will you excuse me for just a moment; I need to make a call.”

“Of course.”

I stood from the table and walked toward the kitchen. Pulling my phone out, I called Cian.

“Hey, aren’t you on a hot date?”

“Yea, that’s why I’m calling you. I want you to run a check on Freyja Malpas. Get me everything you can before I am done with dinner.”

“What’s going on?”

I looked into the restaurant and watched as Freyja sat at the table waiting for me. She didn’t pull out her phone. Or get up from the table. She drank her wine and casually peered around.

“Sal got into my head, and I just need to make sure I’m not walking into something. Maxim was at the restaurant. He said something about Maddie.”

“What the fuck did he say?” Cian growled over the sound of his fingers moving over his keyboard.

“To tell Maddie she was welcome at the park anytime and that he felt his son would benefit from meeting her.”

“Henry isn’t his fuckin’ son.”

“In the eyes of the law he is,” I reminded him. “I don’t know what game he’s playing, but we need to keep an eye on him.”

“Do you think he knows?”

“No, he wouldn’t have been as cordial as he was. But time is running out, and we need to find fuckin’ Kelley and put him in the ground.”

“Ronan has feelers out. And I spoke to the tech guy in Sal’s kid’s club. Navigator or some shit. Why they can’t just use their names, I’ll never understand. Anyway, they’re having trouble locating Warren. He’s Kelley’s cousin.”

“This shit is getting old.”

“No, we’re getting fuckin’ old.” I laughed at Cian’s response and looked at Freyja again. She had the power to make me feel young, or fucking old as dirt. Time would tell which it would be.

“I gotta get back. Send me the information as soon as you have it.”

“Will do.”

This time, I disconnected the call without a goodbye. Placing the phone in my jacket pocket, I walked back to the table. Freyja’s smile when I returned melted away all the shit that was running through my head.

Sal’s warning, Maxim’s riddles, Kelley and Tyran’s betrayal. All of it was gone. All that was left was her.

“Sorry about that. I don’t normally make calls when I’m having dinner with a beautiful woman.”

“It’s not a problem. Though I do need to ask who Miss Kelley is? I don’t want to know her connection to Mr. Federov, only her connection to you.”

I smiled at the hint of jealousy I was picking up on. “Miss Kelley is my boss’ niece. Her and her mother were living in the city and recently moved back home.”

“And where is home?” she asked, her eyes locked onto mine.

“Boston.”

“Do you like living in Boston?”

“The only place I’ve ever known and the only place I’ll ever live.”

“I feel a little that way about New York City, but I am open to wherever the universe takes me.”

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it from my jacket. “I’m sorry,” I apologized, but opened the message anyway. I needed the information about this woman before we left the restaurant.

Skimming over the email, it told me everything I needed to know about Freyja Malpas. The oldest daughter of Woodlawn and Stephanie Malpas. She was thirty-four years old, thank God. Two younger sisters, Athena and Phoebe, as well as a younger brother, Dimeter.

Dimeter Malpas and Phoebe’s husband Shaw Dalton were both patched members of the Sons of Hell Motorcycle Club in Rosewood, Virginia.

Goddamn bikers were everywhere.

At least this club appeared to be on the up and up. Not that it mattered to me. I was in the Irish Mob. But if I was getting involved with a woman connected to a club, I wanted to know what kind of club they were.

I closed the email and put the phone back in my pocket.

“Did I pass?”

“I’m sorry?” I replied, my brow pulling in confusion.

“I assume the phone call and the email were to have me checked out. It’s ok. I’m not offended.”

“You aren’t?” I found that difficult to believe.

Freyja laughed. “Not at all. Before dinner tonight, my sister wanted to call my brother and have him look into you.”

“And did you?”

“I did not.”

Fuck, she was better than me. “You know, your honesty and trust are a little hard to comprehend.”

“Honesty and trust come easy until someone gives me a reason to break them.”