Page 16 of Stolen Temptation (Irish Kings #3)

This is the part where Rory throws me into a dingy cell and leaves me to rot until he believes I’ll be ready to cooperate.

I step into the room first, and his fingers release my arm.

My mouth falls open for the second time within a couple of minutes.

This is the prettiest prison cell I’ve ever seen.

Warm hardwood floors. A double window with a cushioned seat overlooking the gardens. A stately, four-post queen bed dominating the center of the room, topped with a pretty blue and silver comforter and matching throw pillows. A door in one corner leads to a private bathroom.

A private bathroom… I was expecting a rusty bucket in a corner.

For a wild, contrary moment, I’m actually excited to spend time alone in this room, to lie on that giant plush mattress and rest. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. Not that I expect that to change, but a nice bed far away from Leo is a damn good start.

I spin back toward the door, expecting to see it shut and to hear the sound of a key twisting in the lock. Instead, Rory enters and pushes the door closed behind him.

Alarm bells clang through my head.

“What are you doing?” On instinct, I step back.

“I told you that I have some questions for you.”

Merde. He did say that. “You…you mean, right now?”

“Why not?” Rory grabs the small wooden chair parked by the writing desk. “That going to be a problem for you?”

“I thought interrogations happened in dark rooms with hanging spotlights you shove into people’s faces.”

“I see you watch a lot of crime dramas.”

“Not really.” I perch on the window seat, the sun’s rays warming my lower back. Rory positions the desk chair across from me.

“Then, why don’t you let me lead?” He lowers himself into the chair, pulls a phone from his pocket, and fiddles with it for a moment. When he sets the phone down on the bed, I can see that it’s recording.

He’s recording me. This. Whatever’s about to happen.

I don’t know why the idea of sitting here while he grills me with difficult questions makes me want to jump out of my skin, but it does.

I’m so on edge I could pop, and my nerves are fried. I know this for a fact because the thought that keeps forming in my mind is, why does he have to look so freaking hot in the soft sunlight?

The question I should really be asking myself is, when did your brain melt into a useless pile of goo?

Though, some of the blame resides with him. If he was only handsome at night but transformed into a grotesque creature by day, it’d probably be a lot easier to keep my wits about me.

Instead, this feels like a multi-tiered attack.

Swallowing hard, I shove my shoulders down. I don’t know what the Kings want with me, but the sooner I find out, the sooner I can strategize.

Time to trick Rory into revealing what the hell is going on around here.

“Fine.” I tuck my hair behind my ears. “What is it you want to ask me?”

Rory’s smile widens before flattening out into a serious line. “What were you doing there last night? At Leo’s auction?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

His smile falters before stabilizing again. “Kiara, your answers to my questions are very important. And I will get those answers, whatever it takes. Even if I have to be here all day. Or all night.”

All day and…all night? Don’t love the sound of that.

The stammering of my heart begs to differ.

“I’ll answer your questions.” Curling my toes softly inside my shoes, I measure my words carefully. “ If you answer mine.”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“I think it is,” I challenge. “For all I know, after I answer your questions, you’re going to put a bullet in my head and drop my body in a ditch somewhere.”

“Guess you’re just going to have to trust me.”

I almost choke. The things terrible men can say with a straight face.

“Is that so difficult?” Rory’s back straightens. “You didn’t have such a problem with it last night.”

My mouth snaps shut as blood rushes to my cheeks.

Is he really bringing up our kiss? Really? As if that’s going to do his cause any favors. “You mean before you drugged me and brought me here against my will?”

He should be ashamed of himself, but he just shrugs.

“So, answer my questions, and you might get to go home.”

I recoil in horror.

Rory thinks I want to go home? The idea, while deplorable, sparks an explosion of understanding. This man has no idea who I am.

He doesn’t know I live at the De Luca estate. He doesn’t know whose child I am. He probably has no idea how I’m connected to Leo. Of course he doesn’t. He just asked me a few moments ago what I was doing there last night.

This whole time, I’ve been thinking I don’t know what the Kings are going to do with me . But the truth is, they don’t know what they’re going to do with me either. How could they, if they have no idea who I am?

“Ah, she’s tongue-tied at last.” Rory casts a smirk at one of the art pieces on the walls. All I can do is stare at his stupidly handsome profile and then trail my gaze down his stupidly well-toned body.

Heart hammering because of this new information and not because of how Rory looks, I spin away from him to face the window. My gaze settles on the world outside.

When I peek over my shoulder to find Rory watching me, I rise from my seat and begin pacing.

So far so good , I tell myself. I’ve succeeded in answering none of his questions while gleaning a little about him and this situation we’re in. Still, formulating a plan and calculating the odds of survival require data, which means I need to string him along.

I clear my throat. A floorboard creaks as he stands too. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tracks the random patterns I create on the floor as I circle the room.

When Rory speaks next, his tone reverts to velvet. The voice he uses to lure young, impressionable women into trusting him. “Where is home for you, by the way?”

I shake my head. Nice try. “Still missing the proper motivation to answer your questions.”

He chuckles. “Keeping your life isn’t motivation enough?”

I stumble and grab one of the bedposts. “You’ll kill me if I don’t answer?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You promised that no harm would come to me. That was less than an hour ago.” I whirl and find him closer than I expected. I flinch but don’t give any ground. “Isn’t it a little early to start breaking your promises?”

“Who are you, Kiara?” His hazel eyes drill into mine, causing my heart to rattle my ribs. “ Really .”

“Good luck figuring that out. Even I don’t know the answer to that one.” Breathless and trapped by the intensity of his full attention, I can’t believe I told him even that much truth.

“These clever answers of yours are cute.” Rory leans into my personal space. “But I guarantee you don’t want to meet any of my more persuasive methods.”

Anger sparks inside me, alongside a flash of fear.

I hate it when men try to intimidate me.

“If you’re planning to kill me, why don’t you go ahead and get it over with?”

He smirks again. “And ruin all the fun?”

There’s an odd, sizzling undercurrent to his words and expression that I refuse to dissect. “You want to know about me?” Seething, I step closer to him, glaring. “Well, here’s the truth. There’s nothing fun about my life. So, go ahead. Put me out of my misery.”

The smirk on his face melts away. He stares me down for several moments—long enough that I feel myself wavering—before shaking his head. “Lies won’t get you anywhere either.”

“Who says I’m lying?” I want to stomp on his toes again.

“A person who’s detached from life doesn’t try to escape. Not the way you did, at least.” He steadies his eyes on mine again, and they bore into me like they can tunnel straight to my brain. “Twice in twenty-four hours. Running from mafiosos. Dangling from skylights.”

I’m a glass window that Rory’s peering straight through.

The emotional exposure freaks me out. The skin on the back of my neck begins to itch, but he doesn’t relent.

Not even a little.

“A woman with no life left to live…” Rory runs his eyes down the curve of my jaw, “…doesn’t kiss like that either.”

Heat surges into my lower belly. Why’d he have to go and say that?

Mere inches separate our faces. I can tell he’s being careful not to touch me.

I frown. That’s new. Not that I want him to touch me or anything. The change just strikes me as a little weird. Unless he developed a sudden aversion to contact with my skin or body, there must be a reason.

But what?

I’m chewing my inner cheek when a potential answer hits me.

Despite the physiological chaos his proximity unleashes on me, I force myself to ask the vital question.

One I need answered to plot my next escape attempt.

“There are video cameras in here, aren’t there?” Why else would he be so careful? But even with my good sight, I haven’t spotted one.

Rory’s eyes come to rest on my mouth. “Yes.”

“Where?”

He hums. “Nowhere you’ll find.”

I scowl and inspect the room again. How small must they be if even I can’t spot them? And how do I even know he’s telling the truth?

My voice lowers to a whisper.“How do you know?”

He lowers his voice to match mine. “I installed them myself.”

His wink revs my pulse. From irritation, nothing else.

Or mostly irritation.

I force myself to focus on my surprise over his revelation and not the sexual attraction crackling beneath the surface of my skin.

Before I get carried away, I have to figure out who I’m dealing with. Underestimating Rory helped land me in my current mess. I’d prefer to avoid falling into another one.

“So, you’re an IT guy.”

His mouth crooks into a lazy, more genuine smile. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Is that what you do here? For the Kings? You’re in charge of technology?”

He nods.

Shit. That means he’s probably smart. Really smart.

Which means outsmarting him just became more complicated.

And now, I’m even more confused. What was a tech specialist doing at Leo’s auction? There was nothing tech-related on the menu. Even if there was, the Kings are Leo’s biggest enemies. They wouldn’t have been included on the guest list.

“Okay, Mr. Technology.” I fold my arms. “Why did you crash Leo’s auction?”

Rory shrugs one shoulder. “For work.”

Meaning…the Kings assigned him to crash the event?

I fight the urge to gasp. Is it possible that Rory was there to kill Leo? Could he have snuck in for an assassination until I blew his cover and ruined his one shot?

For some reason, this question burns brightly in my mind. “Were you there to hurt Leo?”

His head tilts to one side and a brow quirks. “Why? Would you have tried to stop me?”

Ha! More like, I would have grabbed popcorn.

Stealing one of his tactics, I shrug a shoulder.

“Maybe.” When his jaw flexes, I decide to give him a little more.

If I piss him off too much with my evasions, there’s no telling what he might do.

“But I wouldn’t have cried if you succeeded.

” His eyebrows rise, and I shrug again. “What? Leo is a terrible person.”

Rory’s eyes flash. “And how would you know?”

“Guess you’re just going to have to trust me.”

The weird thing about this back and forth with Rory is that it’s the most alive I’ve felt in…well, ever. My days at the De Luca compound all bled together, even more so after Mom died. The same routine, day in, day out.

While these exchanges might infuriate me sometimes, at least I don’t feel half dead. Rory seems to ignite a spark within me that I never realized was missing.

Of course, that still won’t stop me from formulating an escape plan.

Once I’m free, I’ll simply need to find other things that bring me to life.

Anything besides the aggravating man who kept me from gaining my freedom.