Page 4 of The Twins

But what had warmed me the most, and turned me on the most, was the fact she clearly thought the same way as me and Cillian, and, for that matter, the entire Galahad gang—justice was the mainstay of civilization and the balance of the scales must be maintained at all costs. Bad fuckers deserved what was coming to them, in this case, Emma’s husband. He’d deserved a bullet to the heart. Actually no, he’d got off lightly. I’d have given him the slow, gut-spilling death he’d mentioned and made sure he’d died in pure agony.

“Finn.” Rebecca glanced at the closed door and then up at me. “We can’t be in here.”

A small high window to her left highlighted her pretty features. Dark eyes ringed with liner and long black lashes, a perfectly straight nose, and rosy red lips that were made for kissing. Her jawline was delicate, her chin a little pointed, and her auburn hair hung down from under the gray/white wig she wore.

“No one knows we’re here, doll. This is just a store cupboard.” I pushed a lock of hair over her shoulder. “Why do you wear this…thing on your head?”

“This thing,” she said, “is a periwig, and we have to wear them in court.”

“Why?” I studied the odd coils of fake hair. It suited her in a strange kind of a way. Her long black robe didn’t, though, that hid the gorgeous hourglass figure I knew lurked beneath.

“It’s a mark of respect for the court formalities,” she said, tugging it off and letting it hang in her hand. She smoothed her hand over her shiny hair, pushing it back from her forehead. “I could get fined for not wearing it in there.”

“Wow, really.” I chuckled. “It’s so stuffy this place.”

“Justice is a serious business.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” I stepped closer to her, my smile falling. “Evil deserves its day of reckoning.”

She took a step back, her shoulders brushing up against the wall. “What do you want? Why are you here at all?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“You could have waited until Friday.”

“I couldn’t.” I breathed deep, her perfume filling my nose and reminding me of my grandmother’s flowerbeds back in County Wicklow. “I couldn’t wait.”

“Why not?” She blinked several times and then swiped her tongue over her bottom lip.

Jesus help me, my boner was coming back at the speed of light. “I had to ask you something.”

“And it couldn’t have been asked on our date?” She set one hand on my chest, over my leather jacket.

A jolt of electricity went through me, the connection between us like nothing I’d known before. I swallowed, my throat tight. “No, not really.”

“Why not?” Her lips parted, and her breaths were shallow.

The urge to kiss her was growing, ballooning, consuming me. I moved closer still, until the heat of her body radiated onto mine and I was lost in her dark gaze. “Because it’s about dinner out, and I don’t have your number.”

“That’s true, you don’t.”

“You were fucking great in there, you know.” The image of her holding the attention of the entire court would stay with me forever.

“I know I was.” She smiled suddenly. “I just hope it was enough.”

“It will be.” I paused. I was enjoying having her fill my senses. “You’ll get the verdict you want.”

“I want it for Emma. She’s a victim not a criminal.”

“I agree.” I touched her cheek. Her skin was silky soft, and when I traced to her jawline then to her chin, her pupils widened.

“You’re beautiful,” I murmured.

“And you’re a bad man. The public aren’t allowed in this part of the courthouse.”

“I won’t be long. I’ve just got to…”

“What?”