Page 21 of Savage Promises (Quinlan Empire #2)

Lennox

M y head pounds like a jackhammer, and my tongue feels like sandpaper against my teeth. The soft light filtering through the sheer gray curtains is a cruel joke, stabbing at my skull. I groan, pressing my hands to my forehead as I sit up.

Smacking my lips more, I taste the remnants of...

Tequila. The nectar of the devil.

And something else I can’t place.

Panic flickers in my chest. Where the hell am I?

I suddenly realize two things:

First, I’m not in my apartment. Rafael’s apartment. Right, he broke up with me. Cheated on me.

Second, I’m...naked.

I stretch, my skin sliding against the heavy cotton sheets, my thighs caught in a pillow. The bed is enormous and far more luxurious than anything I’ve ever slept in. The room is minimalist yet thoughtfully decorated by a professional.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, pressing my feet into the soft carpet. My mind is a fragmented mess of tequila shots, a hazy man’s sharp gaze, and... Oh God.

I freeze as the wicked and salacious memory slams into me.

Shane.

I sat on his lap and took off my bra. My nipples seize hard and fast at the memory of his touch. But my face burns with shame. Did I ask my sister’s fiancé to fuck me?

Did... Did he fuck me? I touch the tender flesh between my legs.

I’m wet but not sore. Something tells me if Shane fucked me, I’d be sore and my skin would be on fire.

He wouldn’t gently fuck me like it’s a secret.

He’d rail me into tomorrow, making me scream his name so I never forgot the feel of his cock.

Could I survive that?

No.

That should make me feel better, but it only makes me feel worse.

I stand quickly, ignoring the way my head protests. My suitcase sits on the floor next to the dresser. I packed so quickly, that everything is a jumbled mess. I empty the thing to find enough to put together one outfit consisting of a bra, panty, leggings, and a T-shirt.

Dressed, I tentatively pad across the floor and push open the door to what I think is the living room.

My heart stops, seeing Shane sleeping on the sofa. Fully clothed. He’s stretched out under a blanket, one arm draped over his chest, the other hanging off the side. He looks...peaceful.

I shake that ridiculous assertion away. Nothing about Shane Quinlan is ever peaceful. Even in sleep, there’s tension to him, a coiled energy that draws me closer to absorb his power.

The sight of him jolts a shiver down my spine as the memory forms behind my eyes. His hands on my shoulders, steadying me as I humped him. His voice, low and rough, calling me a whore while I got off rubbing my pussy against his dick.

His long, thick, hard dick.

Hard for me .

I look down and my nipples have stiffened to aching peaks all over again.

I loved being called a whore apparently. My brilliant response? Riding his hand until I came like some drunk amateur.

My stomach twists as I tiptoe closer to the sofa that looks dwarfed compared to Shane. He’s well over six feet tall with broad shoulders, massive biceps, and thick thighs.

Guilt mingles with the humiliation of him having to sleep on a sofa because he possibly didn’t trust me. The weight of shame lodges deep in my chest until I can’t breathe. What kind of mess did I make last night?

No, no, no.

I whirl around, needing to disappear before he wakes up. My bare feet against the soft carpet aid my silent retreat back into the bedroom. I want to get the hell out of here, but I’m here because I had nowhere to go.

My aching head and the nausea rolling through me are impossible to ignore, too. I lower to the edge of the bed, burying my face in my hands again. What the hell is wrong with me?

Shane turned me down. Again .

But I should be grateful. He could have taken advantage of me.

His words sharply echo in my brain.

As if any man could handle fucking you once. Not me. You crawl into my lap and think I won’t lower my pants and slide my cock into your wet heat, drunk or not? That I won’t pin you beneath me and fuck you senseless? Ignoring your cries to stop?

My God, I didn’t just humiliate myself. I made things impossibly complicated.

I glance at the clock on the nightstand. It’s just past seven a.m. Too early to text Mara for advice, but maybe I can sneak out and ambush her at the gym.

The sound of movement in the living room stops me cold. My heart leaps into my throat as footsteps approach the bedroom, slow and deliberate. The door creaks open, a whine to taunt my soul.

I blink and there he is, filling the frame like some dark avenging angel coming to claim the sinner I am. Shane’s deep auburn hair is mussed, his shirt wrinkled, but his eyes are clear as they lock on mine.

“You’re awake,” he says, his voice rough with concern.

“I am.” I lick my dry lips and swallow before I can continue. “Barely.”

He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. “How’s the head?”

“Pounding,” I admit, avoiding his gaze. “Thanks for asking.”

He nods, his expression unreadable. “I’ll call downstairs for aspirin. There’re bottles of water on the kitchen counter.”

I blink, thrown off by his calmness, the smoothness of his voice. I expected him to be furious at me. Start lecturing me about my behavior last night, but he seems...unaffected.

Like he doesn’t care.

Ho hum, just another day where a woman gets naked in his lap.

His sharp dismissal stings.

“Shane,” I say, seeing red behind my eyes. “About last night—”

“Don’t,” he cuts me off with a firm tone that signals to drop it.

Only, that’s not me. I flinch, my face heating. “I just—”

“Lennox.” His voice softens and he takes a step closer. “You don’t need to explain. I know you were drunk. You didn’t mean any of it. Right?”

The question strangles my sanity, like a wrestler pinning me to the mat, demanding my surrender.

“The alcohol...” I say quietly.

He stands over me and with his gaze piercing my soul, he asks me again, “You didn’t mean any of it. Right?”

“Right,” I repeat as well, but not to agree with him. To end the conversation.

“Nothing happened. I made sure of that.” His words feel like a slap in the face.

He made sure of it.

“Was that before or after you made me come?”

“Fuck.” Shane drags a hand through his hair. His jaw tightens like he’s fighting himself to answer me properly. “I know I should stay away from you. But I’m finding it impossible to ignore you,” he mutters, eyes dark with frustration. “You’re a damn temptation I never should have touched.”

“Shane... Why did you stop kissing me the night of my birthday?”

His jaw drops open, but he quickly closes it. “You don’t know?”

Shrugging, I say, “Because our families were at odds for years?”

He laughs. “I’d say odds is putting it lightly. It was about to get even worse.”

“Worse?” I clutch my throat.

He narrows his eyes at me. “You really don’t know?”

A pit forms in my stomach, and I wonder how much darkness surrounded me back then that I didn’t see. “No.”

“It’s an old conflict, but I’ll tell you.” He stalks toward me. “After my sister died, your father had the nerve to tell Fergus O’Rourke that his son Kieran should marry you.”

My legs give out and I wobble to a nearby chair. “Oh no.”

“My sister wasn’t even cold.”

“Oh God, Shane, I’m sorry.” I hold my stomach, ready to be sick. “I had no idea.”

“I know you didn’t.” His eyes soften. “It’s why I was there that night. Your party. To...assess.”

“Not to see me.” I don’t hide my disappointment. “Assess if I planned to marry the next Irish king of Astoria?”

“Assess if you... wanted to marry him.” He folds his arms. “I’m a man. But I know what other women saw in Kieran O’Rourke.”

He’s not wrong about Kieran being unbelievably hot. But I didn’t want the oldest O’Rourke son, I wanted the youngest Quinlan.

“And did I pass the test I had no idea I was taking?” I ask, tamping down my bitterness.

“I listened to your dreams and plans. You didn’t sound like someone who wanted to marry a heartbroken Irish prince.”

Shane’s words are a whetstone to the blade I’ve always felt twisting in my heart.

The memory I try to suppress is always present.

My father wrenched me from my bed when he returned home that night of my eighteenth birthday.

He’d found out I went for a drive with Shane, and the smell of him on my skin confirmed it.

He dragged me into the basement, complained about the mess and beat me, called me a slut.

Next, a doctor showed up and he painfully assaulted me to check to see if my virginity was intact. Only, the doctor told him it wasn’t . I cried out and told my father I hadn’t had sex. No one believed me.

Dad yelled that I was ruining everything. Beat me again. In front of a doctor who did nothing.

Now I know why.

“What...what happened after your father found out?” I ask Shane, shaking. “Clearly, I never got engaged to Kieran O’Rourke.”

“Two things. Fergus O’Rourke refused your father and was quite insulted at the timing,” Shane says with a catch in his throat.

“What was the other thing?” I ask.

“Ewan told Kieran he could marry Siobhan, to which he agreed.” He lowers his head.

“But she ran off to Los Angeles and changed her name to Sabine.” I lean back in the chair. “Talk about twisted.” I stare out the window, thinking how so much could have been different.

Kieran O’Rourke married the Parisi Italian princess. Sabine Quinlan married a billionaire actor. And now Shane is engaged to my sister. Musical marriage chairs played to the beat and I’m the one left standing.

“I wasn’t good enough, was I?” I say, finding it hard to breathe.

“It had nothing to do with you.” Shane frowns.

“What about now?”

“On the contrary. What makes you stand out in this world, Lennox, is that you’re strong.

I won’t treat you like a piece of glass.

I’m calling it like it is. You don’t want to be some shadow wife to someone like me who has to parade around a woman at fundraisers.

You’re a lion, you want to be out front.

And I fucking love...” He clears his throat.

“I respect you for it. So, when you fuck up...”

“I fucked up?”

“You sat on my lap and took off your bra. What do you think?”

I exhale. “Shouldn’t we talk about what it meant?”

His eyes go glassy. “It can’t mean anything.

I’m marrying your sister. Do you want this aching need between us?

Do you want to live like that? I don’t. Like you pointed out, I’ll already be living an unfulfilled life.

I won’t make it worse and drag you down with me.

I have a job to do. A responsibility to my family.

Last night was a mistake. It can’t happen again. ”

The reckless and stupid part of me wished something more had happened. Then Shane couldn’t dismiss me so easily. I dump my head in my hands, the weight of Shane’s rejection returning me to the depths of hell .

But the way he looks at me... I can’t help but wonder if he’s lying to himself. He watches me for a moment longer, then turns and walks out of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar. “I’ll get your aspirin.”

In the living room, I hear Shane’s phone ring. His voice is low, the words muffled, but I can still make out bits and pieces.

“Aye, that warehouse wasn’t it either? Thanks, Connor.” Shane walks back into the bedroom, the phone still in his hand. “I have to meet with my brother. And then finalize the wedding proposal details.”

My heart sinks, and the tequila from last night churns uncomfortably in my stomach. His public proposal kills me more than anything. He’s making this grand gesture even though he’s being forced. It signals Shane’s intent to make the marriage with Neve real.

Like he said, why should he live an empty life? What kind of monster would want him to live yearning for something he can never have?

Me, apparently. I’m that monster.

I nod stiffly, not trusting my voice. What can I even say to that? Congratulations?

“I haven’t decided on a location for it yet,” he continues, almost to himself.

The words escape me before I can stop them. “You can use Club Echelon. The VIP floor. Just tell me the date you need.”

His blue eyes snap to mine, narrowing in surprise. “You’d do that?”

“Why not?” I shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “She’s my sister. I want her to have everything.” Even if it’s the man I want and I have nothing. “It’s the least I can do after you put me up in this villa.” I swallow hard. “We’re going to keep what happened last night between us, right? ”

“Of course.” Shane’s gaze lingers on me for what feels like an eternity before he speaks again. “Thank you, Lennox. Thank you for thinking of your sister.”

It’s like he feels guilty that he can’t put her first.

He leaves a moment later but comes back with a sleeve of aspirin. He’s filled the ice bucket, too, and pours me a glass of cool refreshing water. “Are you working today?”

“I go in at four.”

“There’s a place around the corner that makes great breakfast sandwiches. I’ll order you one on my way home and have it sent up here. Get food in your stomach. The villa comes with grocery service,” he says. “There’s an order form in the kitchen. Get whatever you want.”

“Thank you.” I nod.

“I have to go. We’ll...talk soon.” He turns and leaves me in the bedroom.

Alone.

Without another word. The sound of the villa door clicking shut feels like the end of something we’d built over many years.

Something that I destroyed in one night.