Yes, sir, I text back.
I hurry down to my studio and slip into the lingerie and choker ensemble Killian had caught me fawning over in the hotel that first day we met. I douse myself in perfume, brush my teeth, and touch up my makeup.
A quick mirror check says I look good. No stray hairs. No belly bloat.
Efficiency is key. I only have twenty minutes before I need to be out the door. He’s given me the most mundane task ever. I have to wait at City Hall to get some paperwork done, so I can’t even have lunch. What a tyrant.
I head back upstairs, my heels clicking on the marble floor. I really hope the security guys aren’t watching through the camera.
I pause outside his door, adjusting my bra, and then knock. It’s hard to predict how this’ll go. He could go nuclear on me and throw me out for interrupting his work.
“Come in,” he calls.
I step inside with the jug of water.
He’s behind his huge desk, a frown etched over his face as he glares at the monitor. Fortunately for me, I’m out of sight, so if he’s on a video call, no one can see the lingerie-clad nanny maid who has entered the room.
For a moment, he doesn’t even glance up. “JP, stop going around in circles.” His lips press together tightly. His gorgeous, thick dark locks flop over his forehead, and I resist the urge to swoon.
I’m a powerful temptress.
“I’ve found a way around the mayor’s-fuck.”
Fuck is right.
I have his full attention now.
Jaw hits floor. Smack. Fucking. Bang.
His mouth hangs open as he takes me in with his eyes, from head to toe.
It’s possible I didn’t think this through. There has always been something intimidating about him, but now he looks downright dangerous.
I strut forward with slight apprehension as I try to figure out whether he’s angry, aroused, or a bit of both.
“Killian?” a male voice, possibly JP’s, says from the speaker system. “Is someone there, or am I boring you?”
“Yes,” Killian says in a low voice, eyes on me. His hands tighten around the edge of the desk.
“Yes, I’m boring you?” JP sounds really pissed now. “What the fuck are you looking at? We have twenty-four hours to sort this out, or the casino is dead in the water.”
Fighting a giggle, I innocently set the water jug down on his desk and resist the urge to lean over and wave at JP. It would make for an interesting story.
Killian glares at me so ferociously I’m surprised I haven’t been stripped of my underwear.
“Alfred Marek sent us a letter backed by the fucking mayor himself,” JP rants, oblivious to my presence. “Going by the expression on his face when he stormed out of your house, I don’t think it’s an idle threat. This isn’t just a silly little local protest now.”
Huh. Seems Alfred is a more common name than I thought. Like the guy I had to ghost from Central Park.
Killian mumbles something about casino builds. I don’t know what; I’m too focused on clenching my ass cheeks together and looking seductive.
“That made no sense,” JP barks. “Are you even listening?”
“No,” Killian says, still staring at me instead of the screen. Boobs. That’s what he’s thinking.
He taps something on the keyboard. “I’ll call you later.”
Since I’ve fulfilled my duty of delivering him his citrus-infused water, I turn to leave.
“Wait,” he growls, beckoning me like a king with his servant. “Come here.”
I turn to face him.
“Sorry I interrupted your call,” I say, smiling innocently at him. Lies.
“It can wait.” He grabs my hand and pulls me until I’m straddling his lap. His fingertips skim along the edge of my lingerie, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. “This is a nice surprise, my little car thief.”
His dick thinks so too. It pushes against my crotch like a hard, immovable rock.
I sling my arms around his neck and press my hips up against his. My plan is to cocktease him for a few minutes, then leave. Payback for making me wait ninety minutes outside city hall.
“Is the mayor giving you shit because of what happened at the dinner party?” I don’t like that thought. How did I end up triggering a feud over a casino?
His grip on my lower back tightens. “Just some hiccups with the build. Nothing to stress about. One of the local businesses is protesting the construction.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “They don’t want us to build there.”
I think of the times that Orla and I have visited Brooklyn for dinner or walked alongside the Brooklyn Bridge Park and stared at the tall financial towers in the city. “I get it.”
“What do you mean, you get it?”
“Imagine if some big shot wanted to bulldoze The Auld Dog and Tony’s bagel store. The whole area would go nuts.”
“That pub looks like it should have been demolished years ago. The restroom was a biohazard.”
I roll my eyes. “Tell me about it; I used to clean those toilets. I saw the worst side of humanity. Anyway.” I jab him in the chest with my finger. “That’s not the point at all.”
He quirks his brow. “What is the point?”
“You know some of the older men there have nowhere else to go? It’s the only place they get to talk to people. Like Mr. McNearney-he’s seventy-five, his wife passed away years ago, and he has no family left. He goes there every single day, even on Christmas Day. The pub stays open just for him and a few others, and they do a wee roast for them. Community is so important, you know?”
Killian stares at me intently for a long time, and I wonder if I’ve smeared lipstick on my cheek or something embarrassing like that.
“Would you want to live beside a casino?” I ask him.
He doesn’t answer me.
My fingers close firmly around his strong jawline. “Are you alright?”
His response is a slow nod.
His eyes drop downward, and a tortured groan erupts from his throat. “We don’t have time for this.”
“I know,” I huff. “I’m going to City Hall now.”
“You’re not. You’re going on a helicopter ride over Manhattan.”
“Say what?”
“I found your bucket list.”
“Oh my God! How?”
“It was quite easy, considering you left a piece of paper with a huge title called ‘Clodagh’s New York bucket list’ on the table in the kitchen.”
“So I don’t need to wait in line?”
He chuckles. “Nope. That was a ruse.”