Protect Me (The Donovan Family Book 6)

by Margaret Watson

  Pulling herself together, she said, "Nothing has gone on at Oscar's, except a bunch of cops griping about suspects and cases."

  "Looks like an interesting evening ahead."

  He didn't move away from her, and their shoulders bumped whenever Pete went around a corner. When they finally reached Oscar's, Mia practically leaped out of the car.

  Five minutes later, they were seated in the booth. Finn glanced around. "I like this place."

  "Yeah," she said, glad they weren't discussing what had or had not happened back here. She pushed her menu away as she spotted their waitress approaching. "You know what you want?"

  When the waitress had scribbled their order, she said, "I'll be right back with your beer and iced tea."

  "So what did you think?" Finn asked. "Today was boring as hell, wasn't it?"

  "Yeah, but there were a few exciting moments." Mia studied him in the low light. His skin was a little pale, and the tiny wrinkles around his eyes were more noticeable. "How did it go for you?"

  He spun the napkin-wrapped silverware in a circle. "Good, I think," he finally said. "Sean seemed happy." He raised one shoulder. "Kind of early to tell."

  "You haven't made a movie since your, um, thing with Gemma. What made you choose this one?"

  "Lots of reasons," he said, not looking up at the waitress when she brought their drinks. "So tell me what questions you have for me."

  Okay, no personal stuff. She ignored the tiny flare of disappointment and told herself that made things easier.

  "Tell me about Jenna Stanton."

  Finn grimaced. "You met her?"

  "I did. She introduced herself. Wanted to know how we met."

  Finn smiled, his face suddenly lighter. "I wish I had been a fly on the wall for that conversation."

  "I'm going to do some checking on her. See if she might be our stalker."

  "I don't think so." He shook his head. "That would be too subtle for Jenna. She has no problem asking for what she wants."

  "And what she wants is you." Mia felt a tiny pang of possessiveness. Only because it was her job to protect Finn. She'd happily extend her job to protecting him from barracuda-like women.

  "Bingo. You must be a trained observer."

  "Tell me how she's come on to you."

  "From the first time the cast got together for a meet and greet, she's been very direct about her interest in me. The more I resisted, the harder she pushed." His silverware spun again. "Now I just ignore her. She's the kind of woman who has to be wanted by every man in her general vicinity. When a guy resists, she's just more determined to bring him to his knees."

  Mia pulled out her notebook, scribbling a line about what to look for in Jenna's background. "Okay," she said, tapping the notebook away. "She was the big thing that stood out today. Nothing else suspicious, really." She snickered. "Got a few dirty looks from Ginny in set 'décor', but that wasn't a shocker."

  As she finished speaking, a man slid onto the bench seat beside her. Turning to look at him, she fumbled beneath her jacket for her gun. Before she could pull it out, a familiar voice said, "Fancy seeing you here, Mimi. Who's the guy?"

  Chapter 12

  "Brendan! What are you doing here?" Mia swiveled to face him, horror blooming in her chest.

  "This is where we're meeting tonight."

  "You told me The Pipe and Shamrock!" Out of the corner of her eye she saw Finn lean forward, listening to every word. "You were going to see Cilla's old band."

  "Changed our minds. I didn't want to go there without Cilla. So we came here instead." Brendan turned to study Finn on the other side of the table. "You blew us off for a date, huh?"

  "Not a date. A business meeting."

  Brendan narrowed his gaze at her. "Really? 'Business meeting?' You're in the back booth at Oscar's. So involved in one another that you didn't even see me coming. But it's not a date? Right."

  "Brendan, get out of here. I'm not fifteen anymore. What I do is not your business, and I don't need you to intimidate guys for me. I can do that just fine by myself."

  "I can vouch for that," Finn threw in.

  She stabbed a finger at him, irritation lowering her voice. "You shut up."

  Brendan turned to study Finn. "So who is this guy?"

  Finn stared right back at Brendan. "The guy Mia's with. Who are you?"

  "I'm her…" Brendan narrowed his gaze. "God damn it. You're Finn O'Rourke. I heard you were filming a movie in Chicago." He held Finn's gaze as he said to Mia, "What the hell are you doing with this douche bag, Mia?"

  "Brendan, keep your voice down." She glanced around to see if anyone had noticed the testosterone cloud swirling through their booth. No one was paying attention.

  Yet.

  "You get your ass out of this booth right now," she hissed, shoving him so hard that he nearly fell on the floor. "And you keep your mouth shut. You tell no one he's here. Do you understand me?"

  "No. I don't. Do you have any idea what this guy did to Gemma Rad…"

  "Stop. That's enough." She slapped her hand on her brother's chest. "You are so out of line. If I didn't care about making a scene, I'd kick your ass into the next county. Now get out of here and leave us alone. I'll explain later."

  Brendan leaned across the table, staring at Finn. Finn crossed his arms and stared back. Mia began to shove Brendan again, but he put his hand on her shoulder. Held her there.

  "I'm Brendan. Mia's brother," he said to Finn. "There are three more of us. All cops. Except Mac. He's FBI. I don't care who you are. If you hurt my sister in any way, you'll deal with us."

  "Brendan Aloysius Donovan, I am going to kill you," Mia fumed. Her temples throbbed as a whirlpool of anger built in her head. She hadn't lost her temper in a while, but a few more minutes of Brendan puffing up his chest at Finn and it was going to slip its leash. "Or maybe I'll tell Cilla what you're doing instead. Let her deal with you."

  Ignoring her, Finn raised one eyebrow at Brendan. "Really? Your initials are BAD? As in, to the bone? And Aloysius? Wow. Your parents must have really hated you."

  A muscle in her brother's jaw clenched and released. Clenched again. "Maybe we'll have this discussion now, as soon as Mac, Con and Quinn get here."

  "No." Mia edged him toward the end of the bench. This was turning into a disaster. A few people had craned their necks to watch them, and pretty soon everyone in the restaurant would be checking out the drama in the back booth. "What you're going to do, Brendan, is walk out of Oscar's. Wait for them on the sidewalk. Then go somewhere else."

  "I don't think so, Mimi."

  "Really, Brenny? You want to go there?"

  She stared at her brother and he stared back. Finally, apparently realizing she wouldn't back down, he splayed his hands on the table. "Okay, Mia. You win." He turned to Finn. "But if you pull a 'Gemma' on my sister…"

  Before he could finish, Mia shoved him the rest of the way out of the booth. "You don't know shit about what happened there. So leave it alone, Bren, unless you want to make a complete fool of yourself."

  Her brother's gaze turned calculating as he watched her. He glanced at Finn once more, then nodded. "Fair enough. But consider yourself warned, pretty boy. You mess with my sister and you mess with all of us."

  Brendan turned and strode toward the front of the restaurant. He slammed his hand on the door and shoved his way out. Then he stood to the side and leaned on the window. Watching them.

  She glared in his direction, but he didn't move. Apparently a long distance threat lost its effectiveness.

  "Well. That was fun," Finn said, his lips twitching. "Nothing like a little drama to liven up a quiet, restful dinner."

  She wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. "I apologize for my brother," she said stiffly. "He was raised by wolves. We haven't quite civilized him yet."

  "So." Finn slumped a little on the bench, tapping his fingers on the varnished wood table. "Three more of those on the spreadsheet, huh?"

  "Yes. And if you're very luc
ky, you won't meet the rest of them."

  "It was kind of sweet, actually," he said, his gaze softening as he studied Mia. "Your brother was trying to protect you." He shrugged one shoulder. "Can't blame him. Everyone else thinks I'm a douche bag. Why would your brother be different?"

  "Don't make excuses for him," she said sharply. "He was incredibly rude. Interfering. Disrespectful. To both of us."

  "Mia, if I saw my sister with a guy the whole world thought was a lying, cheating bastard, I'd have the same reaction," he said quietly. "Cut him some slack." He studied her for a moment. "Are all your brothers older than you?"

  "Yeah, I'm the 'baby'." She swiped her fingers through the air. "They think it's their duty to warn guys away from me." She smiled, finally relaxing a little. "Made for a pretty crappy social life in high school. As you can imagine, I didn't go on many dates."

  "Intimidating the hell out of guys is a brother's job." He took a drink of his beer. "I did it plenty of times to my sister. She thanked me once in a while, too."

  "Yeah, I thanked my brothers a few times. There were a couple guys…" She shook her head. Water under the bridge. "Anyway, what were we talking about before my brother interrupted us?"

  "I kind of lost track." He took another drink and smiled. "I was distracted."

  Finn was being an incredibly good sport after being insulted and threatened by her brother. Some of the tension in her shoulders eased. He was a decent man. A nice guy.

  Studying him as he drank his beer, she wondered again what had happened with Gemma Radley. She couldn't imagine the guy she'd gotten to know in the last two days cheating on his girlfriend. And even if he had, he wasn't cruel enough to do it in a place where his girlfriend would catch him.

  * * *

  Finn watched Mia across the table. She was still simmering, which didn't bother him at all. All that heavy breathing was making the snug black shirt cup her breasts in very interesting ways.

  Too bad it wasn't another white shirt. Knowing the color of her bra would be a nice bonus.

  She didn't notice him checking her out. In fact, she wasn't paying any attention to him. She was too busy staring toward the front of the restaurant, a scowl on her face. Twenty bucks said her brother was staring right back at her.

  "Your brother looks a lot like you," he said.

  With a start, Mia jerked her gaze back to him. "What?" Her eyes flicked toward the front door, then back to him. "You think I look like that knucklehead?"

  "Spitting image. But him calling me pretty boy?" Finn shook his head. "Pot calling the kettle black. I'll point that out next time I see him," he said, biting the inside of his cheek to contain the grin that wanted to escape.

  Mia glanced toward the front door again, then back to Finn. She was clearly still angry at her brother and not really paying attention. It took a moment, but delicate pink washed over her face when she realized that Finn had actually said she was pretty.

  "You think you're going to see him again?" Mia glowered at him. "Not a chance in hell."

  "You want to bet on it? Because I guarantee he'll show up. Probably the rest of your brothers, too." Finn smiled happily, anticipating the fireworks. "They'll all want to protect you from the big, bad wolf."

  "Not after I tell them I'm protecting the Big, Bad Wolf from an enraged, stalking Little Red Riding Hood. They all respect the job." She glanced toward the door again. A muscle in her jaw clenched, then she slid into the corner of the booth, pressing up against the wall.

  "Why did you move?" he asked, sliding over as well so he was across from her again.

  "Because the other three knuckleheads are here now, too. They were all watching me. So it was either slide over so I can't see them, or go outside and deal with them." She sighed and picked up her iced tea. "Making a scene would not be a good idea."

  He leaned toward her, fascinated. "So if I didn't care about publicity, you'd go out there and confront them?"

  "Absolutely." She took another drink of tea, and her shoulders relaxed a little. "I want to keep you out of the spotlight instead of getting you back in the newspaper tomorrow. If there wasn't a stalker, if it was just you and I on a date and my brothers pulled that crap, I'd hand them their asses on a plate."

  "You've thought about going on a date with me?" he asked, anticipation rushing through him. He slid his hand across the table, stroked one finger over her arm. Felt her tremble.

  "I…not…no." She stared down at his fingers, dancing over her skin. When she lifted her head, her eyes were darker. More dilated. "I was speaking hypothetically."

  He wondered whether she had any idea how expressive her face was. How easily he could read her. She liked the idea of a date with him. He slid his fingers over her hand, twined them together. "What did you have in mind for our hypothetical date?"

  For a split second, her hand softened. Curved around his, accepting his touch. Then she yanked it away from him.

  Didn't matter. He'd gotten the information he wanted. She had thought about him as more than her job. In great detail, too, based on the color still staining her cheeks.

  "There will be no dates, hypothetical or otherwise."

  "'The lady doth protest too much, methinks'," he said softly.

  She stared at him for a long moment, then flopped back against the seat. "You know everyone else puts the 'methinks' first. Only a show-off-y actor would know the exact quote," she muttered.

  "And a cop, apparently," he said. "You're an interesting woman, Mia."

  She held his gaze. "Still doesn't mean we're going on a date."

  "I understand," he said. "You have standards. Anyone seeing you on a date with me would think you'd lowered them about as far as possible." He smiled at the waitress as she set his bison burger and Mia's macaroni and cheese on the table.

  "You think reverse psychology will work on me, O'Rourke?" She shook her head and dipped her fork into the dish in front of her, picking out a piece of bacon. "I'm a master of it. Four older brothers, remember?"

  Mia ate the bacon, then plunged her fork into the still bubbling bowl and took a bite of the cheesy pasta. She closed her eyes and hummed her pleasure.

  Finn swallowed, his fingers closing around his own fork. Then he set it carefully on his plate.

  He wasn't interested in dinner anymore. He reached for his phone to call Pete, then clenched his fist on his thigh instead. He wanted to drive back to the hotel. Find a much more private setting. Make Mia purr like that again. Feel it vibrate in her throat when he kissed her.

  A tiny smile curved Mia's lips as she ate her macaroni. Had she noticed his reaction, or was she just basking in her victory over her brother? Then she glanced at his plate, and her eyes twinkled. "Don't like the burger, Finn?"

  She'd noticed his reaction. "Burger looks great." He took a bite and washed it down with beer. "Tastes great, too. But the company looks better."

  He took her hand, turned it over and smoothed his thumb over her wrist. Felt her pulse jump. "And I know she tastes better."

  Mia's fork clattered onto her plate as she stared at him. Her hand trembled in his, but she didn't pull away. "That was…that was business," she finally said. Her voice was satisfyingly throaty.

  "Really?" he asked, pressing his thumb against her pulse a little harder. It leaped against his skin. "Didn't taste like business. Tasted like…something I want to nibble on again. Soon."

  Mia swallowed, and he watched the muscles in her neck ripple. Her eyes darkened as she held his gaze, then she slid her hand away.

  "You know that would be a big mistake," she said quietly. "I have to protect you. Harder to do if I'm…distracted."

  "I'd think it would be easier," he said. His fingers tingled, and he ached to reach for her hand again. She must have recognized the need in his eyes, because she slid her hand into her lap. "You'd know me better. You'd be able to anticipate my reactions." He leaned closer. "You'd be invested in me."

  Her eyes went cool. She picked up her fork and began eating, her
jaw working like she was chewing on leather instead of pasta.

  Finally, she set her fork down carefully and stared across the table at him. "I'm invested in my job. And I don't have to like the people I deal with to do the job right. If you were a murdering rapist instead of an egotistical actor, I'd work just as hard to protect you. I took an oath, and I respect that oath. My personal feelings don't matter."

  Oh, God. He'd been teasing. He thought she'd realized it.

  "Mia, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you'd somehow do your job better if we were…closer. I've known you for two days, and I can see how seriously you take your job. I was just being…an ass. Teasing you." He shook his head. "My life is built around a fake reality. I guess I don't remember how to behave in the real world. With real people doing real jobs."

  She tilted her head and studied him. Finally she reached across the table and took his hand. Her fingers were cool against his, and softer than anything he'd ever felt. "I knew you were teasing. But you tempted me a little too much. Made me want things I can't have. I had to remind myself of what my priorities needed to be."

  She squeezed his hand and let him go. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad." She ate another bite of macaroni and smiled. "And you did rack up a few points for knowing you live in a fake world. I'm guessing a lot of your colleagues don't know that."

  As he stared at her bright blue eyes and dazzling smile, real became more and more tempting. And harder to resist. "All teasing aside, I want to know what makes you tick, Mia."

  Pink tinged her cheeks as she pushed away the empty bowl that had held her macaroni. "My job. My family. My friends. I'm a simple woman."

  "I don't think you're simple at all. I think you're one of the most complicated people I've ever met."

  She shook her head. "That's where you'd be wrong. I think I'm different than other women you know. And that's why you're interested." She shrugged as she caught the waitress's eye and scribbled on her hand, signaling for the check. "I'm not famous, I'm not a name in the tabloids, I don't do what you do for a living. That's all it is."