I focus on the man who has spoken. He’s sitting, smoke curling from his lips and my heart drops to my stomach.
This is the devil alright, And as handsome and evil as one, I think crazily.
*
The man is dressed to the nines, in a slate grey vest and lavender tie. It would look effeminate on another man, but this man makes it look more masculine. It’s probably the two days’ growth of stubble on his strong jaw or the devilish glint in his black eyes. Whatever, he’s all man and I step back, suddenly afraid as I notice the glint of interest in his eyes which sparkle as they rake my figure and face.
“Eh, Finn?’ he asks, swivelling in his chair to take a good look at me,
“Who is the little lady?’
I feel my face turn hot with embarrassment and I square my shoulders. My hair is in a braided chignon at the base of my neck and I can feel Finn’s eyes on my nape.
But he just grunts.
‘Listen to her, Liam,’ he growls.
Liam O’Grady, I think, my heart pounding.
The Devil himself, as the people say, crossing themselves after they say his name.
He is a rogue, a killer, who does not hesitate to take the law into his hands. I have heard of him, Dad spoke of him disapprovingly too.
But here I am, standing in his august presence, I think bitterly, come to beg for help.
I become aware that there are other men here, all suited and well-dressed, And I sense Finn stepping away. He walks to the back of the room, his gait that of a panther on the prowl, the brown hair slightly mussed as he settles down on a chair, his eyes shining bronze in the dim light of the room.
Swallowing, licking my lips for courage, I take a deep breath and am uncomfortably aware that the action pushes out my full breasts. Immediately I want to cringe; I hate the way every man in the room scrutinizes my chest.
I stand, as tall as I can, feeling the bronze eyes of the man who sits, still and silent, his eyes on me. Gulping, suddenly feeling braver I say, quietly,
“I’m Bianca. Bianca Cruz”
As a slight murmur goes around the room, I go on in a hurry, my eyes riveted on one pair of golden eyes,
“I’m here to ask for help.”
*
There’s a pause and then the man called Liam. who sits, smoking, scratching his two days’ stubble lets out a low chuckle. He swivels his chair to look around at Finn, whose smouldering look sets me on fire.
“Well, she’s a bold little wench, Finn, I’ll warrant you that!”
And just like that, all the men are laughing. I feel my face flame but I am aware that
all through the ordeal, a pair of golden eyes remains fixed and unsmiling on me. Steady.
I sigh, and raise my hands, palms upward as I say again,
“Please…”
The laughter stops.
The man in the suit, the one with the piercing blue eyes and the black hair, speaks. He is
obviously in charge here.
“I’m Liam, little lady. Liam O’Grady.”
He nods his head to the silent giant at the back of the room, who is still looking at me. With
a sly grin on his handsome face, O’Grady says, unrelatedly sharing the information,
“As for Hulk over there; that’s my brother Finn.”
He adds, with an exaggerated sigh,
“So, tell me, how can I help a fair lady like you?’
I feel my face turn pink. I know that Liam O’Grady is mocking me.
I’m not a fair lady; heck, in my wet clothes and dishevelled state, my hair coming out of my
braid, I look more like a drowned rat!
But I tilt my head proudly and say,
“I need your help. You have bought the plot next to The Patisserie, haven’t you?”
He is sitting back, hands steepled, watching me, blue eyes expressionless, his strong legs
crossed.
I have him intrigued.
“Go on,’ he says softly.
I take a deep breath, ignoring the murmur of voices. Again, I know that the man at the back,
Finn of the golden eyes is watching me. He has picked up a tumbler of some dark liquid and
is swirling it, his eyes riveted on me.
“I …I want you to buy The Patisserie.”
And seeing the raised brow on Liam O’Grady’s face, I add boldly,
“It belonged to my father. He…he is no more.”
It comes out in a rush.
A hushed silence descends upon the room. I can almost hear my heart thudding. There, I tell
myself, I have said it.
Liam smiles but there is no humor. I can almost see the wheels turning in his handsome
head. Finn sighs loudly and folds his arms, muscles bulging and I quail.
“What is the catch, little lady?” Liam asks deceptively kindly, like a person inquiring about
the health of a senile aunt.
“It’s mortgaged,” I say, my eyes drawn to Finn who sits, as he continues to watch me.
Liam O’Grady rises to his feet and I catch my breath. He is taller than I had imagined, broad
and thick, like a fighter and I remember belatedly, Dad listening to one of his mates talking
about the young Irish fighter who killed a man. He is taller than me, but then, at five feet
one, I’m hardly one to talk about Tall!
But Liam O’Grady is a heady combination of burly and muscle, his biceps and shoulders
swelling beneath the jacket. My eyes are off on their own trip, sliding down the length of
his body taking in the swelling beneath his flat stomach, the trousers that flare into lean
hips, the strong legs encased in expensive wool trousers. I notice the equally expensive belt
and find myself wondering, in a rare flight of fantasy, how it would feel on my backside…???
I flinch as my eyes shoot up to his brilliant blue gaze.
My face is warm as I try to tell myself
that he cannot have known what I was thinking…or could he have guessed?
The man has an overpowering sexual magnetism. I can envision women swooning at his
feet.
I tremble as I catch the glint in his blue eyes, which are cold, eyes that study me keenly as he
comes closer.
“Mortgaged to whom, my damsel in distress?’ he asks softly, his hands in his trouser
pockets. I take a hasty step back and come up against the door.
He is almost in my face and I can smell the expensive cologne and manly scent of his body,
the smoke of his expensive cigars.
Was I mad to come here, I ask myself, wanting only to turn and run.
But Liam is relentless.
“Mortgaged to whom, girl?” This time he asks brusquely and I know his eyes are on me.
I bow my head and it comes out in a whisper,
“Dean Nelson.”
Liam O’Brien turned to the silent giant, Finn St Just and I felt rather than saw a silent message pass between them. I felt my palms turn sweaty as I saw the slow smile spreading on Liam’s face as he turned to me.
He scared me and something more than that.
Looking into my face, he said, over his shoulder,
“Gentlemen, I regret to tell you that the meeting is over, we meet tomorrow, lads.”
There were muffled laughs and one by one, the men rose and filed out of the room. I felt the interested stares coming my way and felt a bead of perspiration break out on my forehead.
*
“What…what …can you help me then?” I asked and hated the fact that I sounded so piteous.
Liam smiled and stepping even closer he asked gently,
“How old are you, my pretty dove?’ I shrank.
And felt Finn loom behind him. My eyes flickered from one to another. They were handsome, both of them but in totally different ways. While Finn was tall and magnetic with those eyes that seemed to see into my soul, this man was suave and polished, like a handsome rogue charming but dangerous. Handsome, with high cheekbones and a square jaw, already dark with shadow; his mouth that was a little too exquisite for a man. His eyes are a bright blue, the blue of the sea now, yes that seem to promise everything…Mystery and cruelty; money and power and I shrink.
I, Bianca Cruz, daughter of an honest and rather poor and very deceased baker, I am a stranger to that world of rich people, a misfit.
But Liam disarms me, removing all the armour I have carefully used to keep boys and men at bay all these years. A wide, dimpled smile, with white teeth holds me in fascination, for the smile is crooked. The blue eyes darken ever so slightly, making bewitching promises, his lashes unbelievably long.
He smiles, a lazy dangerous smile that makes me want to turn and run for my life.
Liam O’Grady knows exactly how he is making me feel.
But I stand there, trembling ever so slightly.
Holy mother of God, I think weakly, I am getting wet in my panties, just looking at Finn St. Just and Liam O’Grady.
Liam waited till everyone had left and just his brother and he were in the room with me. Then he said, kindly,
“Come, little bird, sit down.”
I began to shake my head, saying,
“Thank you, Sir. I…I think I will leave…”
Liam’s blue eyes narrowed at my words, and I saw his nostrils flare.
‘Sir…” he repeated and the inflection in his voice was different. Rougher. Unpolished.
I got no further.
“Sit down,” growled Finn and I jumped. Quickly, directing one look at the man, I decided to sit.
Finn St. Just looked as though he would make me sit down forcefully if I disobeyed him. .
Liam laughed, a short bark without humour, his eyes never leaving my face. Pulling up a chair he settled beside me, so close that my knee was touching his. I tried to shift but he looked at me in such mocking amusement that I subsided.
“How old are you then?” he said, in a sardonic voice.
I was wringing my hands, I realized and bowed my head, biting my lower lip, Then, with a deep breath, I said softly,
‘Nineteen. I am nineteen, Mr. O’Grady.”