Humans hadn’t been hunted as prey for thousands of years, yet something in our DNA still remembered. An instinctive sense of survival. Even when the conscious mind hadn’t detected danger, the senses knew.
For example, the prickling sensation of unease that crept across the back of my neck after letting myself inside my parents’ house. The place was supposed to be empty. Mom and Dad hadn’t come home yet. The lights were off. The house was quiet save for the soft humming of appliances filling the sunlit silence.
I’d started to rummage through the fridge when I felt it—a burning awareness heating my back.
Someone was behind me. Watching.
A thousand thoughts flashed through my mind in an instant. Mom and Dad would have said something rather than skulk in the shadows, so it wasn’t one of them. Dad’s security? As the governor of New York, he always had a bodyguard nearby. Could one have returned to the house for something?
And decided to stalk you instead?
Not likely. I knew most of the team he worked with, and they were all good guys. Who did that leave? The alarm was still activated when I’d come in. Either the person had the code or had somehow broken in without triggering the alarm. So which was it? Only one way to find out.
My heart rate kicked up another notch.
I grabbed the milk and closed the fridge without turning around, stepping to the side and reaching into the cabinet above for a glass. At the same time, I slipped my other hand into the drawer at my waist to where the steak knives were kept and set one on the counter. Only then did I turn around.
How did the senses know? They’d been spot-on. I couldn’t help but be impressed by evolution, though that wasn’t where my thoughts should have taken me. The unfamiliar man leaning against the doorframe across the room was the very definition of intimidating. His muscular frame dwarfed my own, and tattoos peeked above the collar of his snug Henley. But it was more than that—his presence radiated a savage calm, as though the world was meant to lay at his feet because if it didn’t, he’d burn the whole damn thing to ash.
I should have been terrified. That was how a normal woman would react when confronted by such an unapologetic predator. But I wasn’t normal. I was only afraid of one thing in life, and this man wasn’t it.
“Are you lost?” I asked in a steady voice. Adrenaline filtered into my bloodstream, a purely physiological response that couldn’t be helped. Fear was a different monster. True fear was a tar-like quicksand that suffocated a person from the inside. I knew fear, and this wasn’t it.
The man tilted his head a fraction. Maybe only a single degree, but I noticed, and I could have sworn it denoted curiosity. He found me amusing.
I found his interest irrelevant.
“Not lost, just waiting,” he eventually answered. His voice was rugged yet soft, like the vibrating rumble of a hungry jungle cat.
“For my father?”
“Yes.”
“People usually make an appointment. Tends to go over better than breaking in.”
“People are usually frightened when they encounter a strange man in their house.” He began to inch closer.
“Not my house.” I leaned my elbows on the counter behind me, getting my hands as close to the hidden knife as I could allow without revealing my weapon.
“Your parents’ house, close enough.”
As he neared, I could see the rich turquoise shade of his eyes. He was beautiful for a criminal—well-defined jawline, thick sand-colored hair, and a rare facial symmetry that Hollywood would envy. He had to know that with his looks, breaking and entering was pointless. He could probably charm his way inside the White House. Why had he felt the need to seek out my father this way?
“What’s your name?” My curiosity got the better of me.
His lips twitched in the corners. “Keir.”
I didn’t offer my name, and he didn’t ask. I got the impression he already knew. “If you’re here for my dad, then you must want something from him. You have to know this won’t help your cause. And if you’re here to hurt him, then you should know he always has security with him.”
“I’m only here to talk.”
“About what?”
“Business.”
A man of many words, I see.
He made it to the large marble-top island only a dozen feet from me. My jaw clenched. Something about this man piqued my curiosity, and I sensed the intrigue was mutual. Dragging out information annoyed me, however. Why wouldn’t he just tell me what this was all about? My father wasn’t the secretive type and couldn’t be bought, so what could this Keir need to discuss that warranted the cloak-and-dagger charade?
“Why aren’t you afraid?” he asked in an even, deliberate tone. Taking one step, then another, he started to round the island.
“Do you want me to be? Is that what gets you off?” I shot back, keeping my voice as level as his.
“You don’t like to answer questions.”
Step.
“Neither do you.”
Step.
His eyes, as bright as the Caribbean Sea, trailed over my face as though memorizing my features. His scrutiny made me uncomfortable.
“You shouldn’t come any closer,” I finally warned, a breathiness seeping into my voice.
Step.
“Why not?”
He was now only a couple of feet away from me. He seemed even larger up close. I wasn’t exactly petite at five feet five, but he towered over me. Had to be six feet three or four. And it wasn’t just his height. He was broad like a professional athlete, thick with mature muscle. Probably somewhere close to thirty years old. Confident. Calculating. Deadly. Pure predator.
I pulled the knife from behind my back in one quick motion and held it securely in my fist. “Because I have this, and I’ll use it.”
Keir’s eyes seemed to brighten further. “Now, why would you go and do a thing like that?” He inched forward.
“Protect myself?”
Completely ignoring the knife, he eased forward until the blade touched his chest. “Take out a weapon when you don’t plan on using it.”
“What says I’m not?” I swiftly raised the knife to his throat, the tip pressing against his skin.
He leaned forward just enough for the blade to draw a prick of blood. “Because I’m still breathing,” he murmured.
I never had a chance to respond.
One second, I had the knife at him, and the next, he’d grabbed my hand, spun me around toward the counter, and forced my hand to hold the blade at my throat instead of his. I couldn’t move an inch. His arms were steel beams wrapped around me while his solid body pressed against my back. I was at his mercy.
“If you don’t use the weapon, you run the risk of your opponent using it against you.” His lips were so close to my ear, each softly spoken word felt like a caress. A shiver glided along my skin and rattled my insides to the point of chaos. It was the only explanation for how wires could be so crossed that a bolt of lust struck deep in my core. How could this situation possibly turn me on? It didn’t. My brain had to be misfiring.
He is incredibly hot, Ro.
And dangerous! I shot back at the whimsical voice in my head, disgusted.
“I never claimed to be a fighter,” I said with an edge. “Just that I wouldn’t run crying.” I held still. Partly because the knife tip was teasing at breaking my skin, but also because there was no point in fighting him. I wasn’t going anywhere if he didn’t want to release me.
Outwardly, I reflected perfect calm, but on the inside, an intoxicating sense of exhilaration flooded my veins. Like Frankenstein’s monster struck by that first lightning bolt, I felt my body come alive. The situation was dangerous. I shouldn’t have enjoyed what was happening, yet a part of me wanted to seize the feeling with both hands and never let go.
“I don’t believe much of anything would bring you to tears,” Keir mused as if to himself.
The blade drifted gently down my neck, slowing at my fluttering pulse point. My breaths grew shallow and more frequent, each one drawing in more of his intoxicating scent—old leather and motor oil wrapped in a trace of expensive cologne. It was an odd assortment of flavors that somehow complemented one another perfectly.
“I’m sure you could manage, but I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
He made a curious rumbling sound in his chest, then slowly shifted his hand, releasing mine and moving to gingerly grasp the blade. He disarmed me in a way that requested my surrender rather than forced my submission. I could lash out and cut his fingers since the knife handle was still firmly in my grip. But his actions seemed to convey that he wasn’t there to hurt me, so I followed his lead and released the weapon.
He tossed the utensil on the counter, then slowly released me, making sure to position himself between me and the knife. Cold air circled me at the loss of his touch.
“If you didn’t want to hurt me, why didn’t you just stay back? Or do you enjoy tormenting people?”
Keir stared at me. I used the opportunity to do the same, trying to figure out the unnerving man across from me.
“I could have done a lot worse if I’d wanted to torment you.”
“Then why?”
Silence.
“Because I could.” His delayed responses were a strategic power play. I got the sense he was used to a position of control, even lording over the pace of a conversation.
I refused to play by his rules.
“No.” I shook my head. “You did it to show me that you could. There’s a difference.”
He gave a slight nod. “Then you have your answer.”
Maybe, but it offered no clarity. Everything about this man was shrouded in mystery. I wanted to take the knife and slice away his mask to unveil what lay beneath.
My curiosity pissed me off.
It meant I felt some vested interest in what I learned, and that would be pointless. Keir clearly lived in a universe beyond my own—somewhere seedy and reckless and poised for devastation. I wanted no part of it, and therefore, should want no part of him.
“I think it’s best if you wait outside,” I blurted, crossing my arms over my chest.
Keir’s narrowed stare seemed to twist me around like a Rubik’s Cube, searching for a solution. However, his efforts were cut short by the sound of the front door opening. We turned our attention to the entry, but no one appeared. It suddenly occurred to me that they expected the alarm to be armed and didn’t know I had stopped by. His security officer was likely launching into some practiced emergency protocol.
“Dad, it’s me!” I called out. “I’m in the kitchen.”
Muffled voices filtered into the house before my dad stepped into view. “Hey, Ro! We weren’t expecting you.” His movement faltered when he caught sight of our visitor.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I forgot to text.” I looked at Keir, who now stood beside me. “Um, this is Keir. He came by to see you.” I hadn’t had time to think about what I’d tell Dad when he got home. I could have run to his side and told him how the man had been waiting inside the house when I arrived, but I didn’t, and I wasn’t sure why. To keep from making a scene? Maybe. To prevent Keir from getting arrested? That seemed to resonate louder than the other possibility, which only irritated me more.
Dad slipped off his suit jacket and draped it on a kitchen bar chair, his eyes never leaving Keir. “Why don’t you head upstairs, sweetie, while I have a word with Mr. Byrne.”
“No reason for her to leave,” Keir offered, to my surprise. “I’m only here for a friendly conversation, and after the short time I’ve spent with Rowan, I’d say her female sensibilities aren’t at risk.” His eyes cut to me, glinting with humor.
Was he … teasing me? What strange upside down world had I fallen into?
I appreciated that he was mocking the archaic masculine need to shelter innocent females, but it set me off balance. He acted as though we knew one another. As though we’d shared an understanding substantial enough upon which to base a private joke. Granted, I hadn’t ratted him out, but that didn’t make us friends.
I did my best to school my reaction when I realized my father was searching my face for insight into what had passed between Keir and me.
“My daughter’s sensibilities are none of your business. As far as you’re concerned, she doesn’t exist.” My father’s harsh retort surprised me. He was protective, but his status as a public figure meant he was rarely aggressive.
Hoping to defuse the situation, I poured myself a glass of milk from the jug I’d almost forgotten about and prayed Dad didn’t notice the knife half hidden behind a jar of utensils. “Mom at one of her meetings?” I asked casually.
“She is, though she should be home any minute, so it’d be best if we could move this along. What brings you so far from the Moxy, Mr. Byrne?”
The Moxy? What was that? I made a mental note to look it up.
The two men stood across from one another, the white marble island between them, with me stationed like a referee off to one side. Of course, we also had the presence of Dad’s security chief lurking at a distance, but that didn’t seem to change anything. These two were ready to go head-to-head.
“I see you’ve been doing your research,” Keir said evenly.
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be dismissed so easily, though I already told you I wasn’t interested in doing business with your … organization.”
“Very presumptive of you to dismiss us without hearing me out. Thought you were known to be one of the good ones—levelheaded and open-minded.”
“Say what you came to say.” Dad’s command hung in the air.
“As you’re aware, the mayor is close to announcing his appointment to replace the retiring police commissioner. The man he plans to put in power is even more corrupt than the mayor himself, which isn’t saying much.”
The shadow of a grimace darkened my father’s face. “You know as well as I do that as the governor, I have no control over who is appointed to that position.”
“Come on now, Alexander.” Keir tilted his head. “You’ve been in the game long enough to know how it works. Just because it’s not in your job description doesn’t mean you don’t have any influence.”
“I’ve built my career on integrity.” Dad glared. “I don’t intend to throw that away now.”
“You don’t have to cross any lines to cast your influence. Say you had some very private information about the mayor—information he’d prefer to keep out of the press. That knowledge might give him reason to rethink his decision.”
Dad glowered. “That’s blackmail.”
“It’s politics, and you know it.” Keir maintained his unflappable tranquility throughout the conversation, as though plagued by perpetual boredom. He was fascinating to watch.
“And you would provide me with this information in order to help install who? Someone equally as corrupt but more in line with your way of thinking?”
Keir tipped his chin. “Men as upstanding as yourself are hard to come by, but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t find someone better suited for the job. Someone we could both agree upon.”
Dad shook his head, his lips pursed. “I have no plans to interject my authority over the mayor. So if that was all …” Dad crossed his arms and stepped back to clear the path toward the front door.
I could have told Keir that would be my father’s answer. His standard of ethics was unimpeachable, which was one of the reasons I worked so hard to measure up.
As though he’d only been trying to help for my father’s benefit, Keir slowly bobbed his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His eyes lifted to mine, deflating all the air from my lungs like a leaky balloon.
“Is that a threat?”
I shook loose of Keir’s thrall to look at my father. I’d never heard such violence in his voice.
Keir lifted his hands in surrender. “Just reminding you that once a new commissioner is named, it’ll be that much harder to get rid of him. Government red tape and all that bullshit.”
“Again, not my problem.”
“Now, that doesn’t sound like the city’s renowned savior.” Keir wasn’t ready to give up. I wasn’t sure if I was impressed or annoyed.
Dad glared at him. The air grew saturated with a suffocating display of power, neither man willing to back down.
Keir finally conceded with a smirk. “I suppose I’ll see myself out.” His eyes caught mine one last time before he turned for the door.
Watching his retreating form was like watching the shoreline disappear as I drifted out to sea. I wanted to call him back and make him stay so I didn’t lose that feeling of breathlessness he had created. But I knew that yearning was reckless and counterproductive to everything I’d worked toward—like bingeing an entire pizza after a week of clean eating—only so much more catastrophic. Someone like Keir Byrne would decimate the landscape of my life. Why was I even thinking about him?
I shook my head, hoping to rattle lose some sanity, then went to give my dad a hug.
“Sorry about that,” I murmured. “I shouldn’t have let him in.”
“I’m surprised you did. He doesn’t exactly give off neighborly vibes.”
I raised my brows with a touch of levity. “I was trying not to judge.”
Dad huffed out a laugh and kissed my forehead. “It’s good to see you, Ro. I can always count on you to brighten my day.”
I wished the sentiment brought me joy rather than a tightening of the vise around my rib cage. “Bad one?” I asked.
“Nah, just long. You staying for dinner?”
I shot him a calculating look. “Depends. What are you having?”
“I do believe Melody has a lasagna ready to go in the oven.”
Licking my lips, I closed my eyes in savory anticipation.
“I take it that’s a yes?”
“I suppose I can work it into my schedule,” I teased.
“As if you’d pop in all the way up here for anything else.”
“Ouch!” I grinned, knowing my smiles never fully reached my eyes and wondering not for the first time if my parents could tell or if they’d forgotten the difference.
