Page 12 of Release Me

Rebekka’s laughter bubbles out, soft and slurred, and something tightens in my chest.

Three of Killian’s security staff choose this second to approach the table. They must have been making a loop of the bar. I address the one I recognise. ‘Thomson. You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on them.’

‘Good luck with that,’ one of the other guards mutters. ‘They’re wild.’

‘Wearekeeping an eye on them,’ Thomson assures me. ‘Walsh is bringing the car round now.’

‘What?’ Avery wails. ‘It’s not even midnight yet!’

‘Got to get your beauty sleep, Avery,’ I try to appeal to the former model in her.

‘What exactly are you suggesting, Baby Beckett?’ Her eyes narrow in my direction.

I raise my hands in the air. ‘Nothing. You know I think you’re stunning. I’m just saying you might want to go home and get some sleep so you’re not too tired for tomorrow.’

‘What’s tomorrow?’ Scarlett squints up at me through thick, elongated eyelashes.

‘The Olympia,’ I tell her. ‘Hozier. We’ve hired the VIP box.’

Avery squeals.

Ivy claps.

Scarlett groans, ‘I need to sweet talk my mother-in-law to babysit for me.’

‘Not if I get there first.’ Ivy grins. The Beckett women gather their purses, clutches, various designer coats and wobble up to a standing position.

‘I feel a cousins sleepover at nanny’s house coming on,’ Scarlett staggers slightly and Sean reaches out to steady her. ‘Come on, ladies, let’s get you out to Walsh.’

They turn to Rebekka, who remains seated. ‘You will come to see Hozier tomorrow, won’t you?’ Avery demands. ‘It’s going to be epic.’

And across the table, Rebekka’s green eyes flick to mine. Just for a heartbeat. ‘I… I’ll ask Anthony.’

‘I thought you said he was in Paris?’ Scarlett steadies herself by leaning a hand on the table as she wraps a cashmere scarf around her neck.

‘He is,’ she admits quietly. We exchange a look that assures me she knows what I know—that he’s away with another woman. Fuck. My heart breaks for her. She deserves so much more. She deserves everything. If she were mine, I’d give it to her. She wouldn’t even have to ask.

‘Then it’s sorted.’ Scarlett nods firmly. ‘We’ll send a car for you.’

Rebekka looks at me, our eyes colliding again. Hot, forbidden energy fires like ions between us. ‘How are you getting home tonight?’ The words are out of my mouth before I can help myself.

Rebekka looks towards the door. ‘Patrick, my driver is here somewhere.’ She sighs, and suddenly she looks pale—really fucking pale. ‘I feel a bit sick,’ she admits. ‘Anthony won’t be happy if I vomit in the car.’

I don’t even hesitate. ‘Send Patrick home. I’ll drive you instead.’ I mutter, offering a hand to help her up. Sean looks relieved to be escaping back to Layla as he follows the others towards the exit. I slide an arm around Rebekka’s waist to steady her as she sways. Her sultry spiced perfume wafts around me, and I inhale it deep into my lungs.

‘Come on, sweetheart,’ I whisper against her hair. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Her head lolls against my shoulder for a second before she straightens, blinking up at me. ‘Don’t call me that.’

But she doesn’t pull away.

And God help me, I don’t want her to.

Chapter Five

REBEKKA

Whose idea was it to drink six Dirty Martinis on an empty stomach? I may be older than Rian, but clearly, I’m not any wiser. My stomach churns as we step out into the starry night.