The Real Deal: A Dublin Nights Novel

by Sahin, Brittney

  He also looked pissed to see me.

  I should have looked away. Not only because his glare could’ve cut me to ribbons, but because he was half-naked. And the man was ripped. Muscles upon muscles. Every part of him rigid, even . . .

  I started to stumble back, but he reached out and caught my arm, holding me in place.

  His black sweatpants were tented. Rock. Freaking. Hard.

  I cleared my throat. “You always answer the door like this?” I kept blinking as if that’d stop the shocking surprise.

  “No, but you kept knocking.” He released his hold of me and arched his shoulders back, effectively positioning his amazing chest in my face. I wanted to reach out and touch him to see if he was real. And did he feel as hard as he looked?

  Hard.

  Yeah.

  That brought me back to the erection he was sporting.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” My chest painfully tightened at the idea he’d been having sex. “Tell whoever is here, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m alone.” He shifted to the left to let me inside.

  “Oh.” Why did I feel so relieved?

  I also couldn’t seem to move yet. How could I go into his suite with him so hard in, well, so many places?

  Had he been getting himself off? “I should come back.” I started to turn, still in a daze from this display of masculinity in front of me, but he quickly secured a hand around my waist, stopping me.

  It took me a moment to realize that a good portion of my body was now pressed against an equal portion of his, which included that throbbing intensity between his legs.

  “You came for a reason. What is it?” He abruptly let go and strode inside his suite, making it impossible for me to miss the black Celtic cross tattooed between his shoulder blades. Simple in the design. Sort of like my brother Adam’s ink.

  The devil was Catholic? Then again, wasn’t Lucifer a fallen angel?

  I finally got my feet to move. “You want to get dressed first? Maybe, um, decompress. I can wait out here while you finish.”

  His brows lifted. “Oh, sure.”

  Okay, I could work with sarcasm. I had three brothers. “You use porn or have a great imagination?”

  His hands settled above the waistline of his black sweats, showcasing his hip bones and those muscles Bella referred to as sex lines. The material sat so low, it was obvious he had nothing else on beneath.

  His hard-on was no longer saluting me, but the bulge didn’t exactly go away.

  And now I also noticed he had scars on his body. Like he’d been in a knife or gunfight one too many times.

  “What happened to you?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking as I circled his body like he was some sort of art exhibit, searching for more wounds.

  His back was worse than his chest. His golden skin had been marred by blades and bullets.

  “It’s nothing,” he said brusquely.

  “You call that nothing?” I held in a gasp as I glanced at one particular scar along the side of his torso. It was like someone had taken a knife and tried to slice him open from armpit to hip bone.

  Six injuries that I could count. How many were beneath his sweats?

  “Holly.” His dark brown eyes tightened on me.

  I dropped my Prada bag and untied the belt of my Burberry raincoat. “I, um, ran into the kid who mugged me downstairs. What’s he doing here?” I draped my coat over the barstool off to my right in the kitchen area.

  “That’s none of your concern,” he answered as I turned to face him, his body far too close.

  “He did try to steal from me, so yeah, I’d like to know what’s going on.”

  He lowered his chin, eyes seeking mine. “You shouldn’t have come. You shouldn’t be seen here with me.”

  “That makes no sense.” Nothing ever made sense with him, so why was I surprised? “You’re on the McGregor board. I was at your club last night.”

  “That’s business. You being here, alone with me . . .” His eyes deepened in color to a grittier shade of brown, like a dark soil you’d bury your treasures in to keep them hidden from your brothers when you were kids. “I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

  My eyes widened in surprise. “God forbid anyone thinks we’re having sex. You have a reputation to maintain.” I snatched my purse and coat, prepared to leave, forgetting why I’d come to begin with, but when he snapped out my name, I froze. “What?”

  “There are things you’ll never understand about me, and—”

  “How could I when you won’t tell me anything?” I whirled back around to face him. “Let me guess, I wouldn’t want to know, right?” Irritated, I tossed my belongings again, this time letting them fall on the floor. I peeled my cream cable-knit jumper over my head and flung it, too.

  He took two quick steps back as if I were a threat. How insane was that? “What in the bloody hell are you doing?”

  Honestly, I wasn’t so sure. But I had to get through to him. To get him to not just listen to me, but to open up for once.

  I wasn’t always so “responsible” and “sweet” as my brothers had labeled me.

  My hands went to the hem of my black, long-sleeved cotton shirt, and he bit out my name like a plea this time.

  “Have you lost your mind?” he asked once I was out of my shirt.

  “Yes,” I hissed. “You’re making me crazy.” That part was true. “I came here for a reason, and I’m not going until I get answers.” I lifted my chin, trying to hide a wobble of nerves there. “If you’re going to be a pain in my arse, then I can play the same game.”

  I knew he wanted me. I’d had his tongue in my mouth and his hands on me last night to prove it. So, I could make him squirm right now, too. I’d probably regret this later, though.

  His eyes dropped to my breasts, which were still hidden, but the bra was nude and sheer—practically transparent. My nipples peaked with his gaze on me, and my abdomen muscles tightened.

  “We need to talk.”

  He dragged a hand down his face and let go of a deep exhale. When his arm was back at his side, his granite-like jawline locked even tighter. “The last thing I’ll be doing is hearing a word out of your mouth with you like that.”

  And how did he think seeing him shirtless with an erection had made me bloody feel?

  “Then get dressed, get focused, and come back out here and let’s have a proper conversation.” I huffed. “I’ll be clothed and waiting.”

  “And what is it that you want?” Defeat wrapped around his words, and it was satisfying, warming me in all the right places.

  Mission accomplished.

  “To talk about the land in Limerick. And renegotiate the terms of the deal you made with Harrison.”

  His lips curved at the edges. “You want to negotiate with me?”

  “Yes.” I waved my hand. “Now please, take care of that problem you have.” My gaze dipped to his sweats, his hard-on had reappeared. “Maybe shower, too. Then come back out here.”

  “You always conduct business like this?”

  “Apparently only with you.”

  His lips tipped into the slightest of smiles, the small movement catching me off guard. The sight of a smile on his face was almost painfully beautiful.

  “Shower. Clothes. Then talk,” I reiterated, letting my commands sit between us for a moment.

  “Don’t forget about the jerk-off part.” He was close now. So close, I almost thought he might dip in for a kiss. “Be right back, love.”

  Love? Oh for feck’s sake. I whirled away from him and waited until I heard the bedroom door close to drop my face into my palms and yell on the inside.

  After getting my shirt and jumper back on, I went to his bar for a drink. Whiskey wasn’t my normal go-to, but there was an immense collection of bottles from all over the world.

  I went with an eighteen-year-old Jameson Bow Street whiskey. The older, the better, right? A touch of toffee, hints of leather. Toasted oak and spice. The complexity
. . . it reminded me every bit of Sebastian, down to the way he’d tasted when we’d kissed. Yeah, if Sebastian were a drink, he’d be this one.

  I settled into one of his armchairs, relishing the taste by consuming it slowly. And after five or so minutes—must’ve been a quick orgasm and shower—the door to his bedroom opened.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” I played dumb, of course.

  “For helping expedite my shower with your little striptease.” He winked, and my jaw dropped.

  His mouth twitched, the threat of a smile nearly exposed. His lips were irritatingly perfect, the kind even a Renaissance sculpture would envy—sensual in fullness, yet unquestionably masculine. My temperature spiked at the memory of those lips on mine.

  “Well, thanks for”—I raised my glass and gestured toward him—“the clothes.” I cleared my throat, hoping to kill the embarrassment with it. “Being dressed, I mean.”

  He was in dark wash denim and a white, long-sleeved cotton shirt. Bare feet. Mussed-up wet hair. Handsome as bloody ever.

  “Anytime.” Another smile. God, help me.

  “You have a thing for whiskeys?” I needed a new topic. “I may have poured myself one that’s been maturing for almost two decades.”

  He cocked his head, his dark brow lifting. “I’m a bit of a connoisseur.”

  I tapped a finger on the glass and closed one eye. “I would’ve taken you for someone to organize your bottles by, at least, country of origin, or brand. But color?”

  His eyebrows flat-lined, same as his mouth, and pain cut through his rum-colored eyes.

  “You’d be right in your assumption.” He didn’t make sense, and I wasn’t going to go down some rabbit hole doused in whiskey. I was there for a reason. “Early for something so strong, don’t ya think?”

  “Early for a lot of things,” I snapped back, my eyes falling right to the crotch of his jeans.

  He smirked.

  Damn it.

  “Tell me about the kids first,” I demanded.

  He sat in the leather armchair across from me. “I spoke to the man who tried to mug you. Well, kid,” he said after the longest minute of my life had passed. “He was remorseful. Also living with his ten-year-old brother in this godawful shit hole. They were alone.”

  Finally. The truth. I took a mental victory lap. “And you set them up here?”

  He nodded.

  “Why? I mean, that’s what I would’ve done, or someone with a heart, but not you.”

  “You’re right. It’s out of character for me,” he said in a low, almost hollow tone. “Want me to kick them out?”

  I closed my eyes for a second. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? Being honest?”

  “For being mean.”

  “You could never be mean.”

  His words and the soft tone in which he’d spoken, had my lids lifting to seek his eyes. “With you, I am. I’m always so angry at you.”

  His attention moved to the window, which overlooked the city. “That’s how it should be. You need to keep your distance.” He slowly carried his focus my way. “Because whatever you think about me, I promise you, I’m much worse.”

  “See, the thing is,” I began and set the tumbler on the end table off to my side, “I’m not so sure I can believe you.” I stood and moved to the window. “Horrible people don’t help kids.” I caught his eyes in the reflection of the glass. He was standing behind me now, but not close enough to reach out and touch me. “You keep warning me away, but it’s because you’re trying to protect me, isn’t it? And that’s another notch in the I-don’t-believe-you’re-bad belt.”

  I faced him, and his hands were tense at his sides as if he wanted to grab hold of me but resisted. “Don’t do this.” His brows drew together. “You’ll only be disappointed.”

  “I won’t—”

  “You will,” he said, the anger in his tone harder than I’d ever heard from him, and I backed against the window.

  “Fine,” I sputtered, needing to focus on why I was even there. “I want you gone from the company long before the movie with Harrison begins filming, and I also want you to know I’ll stop at nothing short of going to London and telling off this investor that we’ll never sell the land.”

  “You can’t go to London.” It was less of a demand and more of a desperate plea. “I need you to trust me when I say don’t try and stop the deal from happening,” he added, his voice even softer this time.

  “Do you owe someone a favor? Did you make them a promise, and since you always keep your word about deals, you’re being forced to do this?”

  His silence was the only answer I needed.

  I was right.

  Him and his deals.

  But this was one deal he’d have to lose.

  “I’m not backing down. And you think I’m stubborn? Good.” I lifted my chin. “I’m a McGregor. We don’t lose.” I maneuvered around him, worried he’d follow, but he didn’t.

  I had to get out of there and as far away from him as possible.

  I snatched my coat and purse and hurried for the door. When I flung it open, I nearly collided with someone’s fist mid-knock.

  The man retracted his hand and tossed it through his wavy, brown hair. “Excusez-moi. Je suis désolé.” The guy had a James Dean meets Johnny Depp thing going for him. Cleft chin. A nose that looked like it’d been broken once or twice.

  I didn’t bother with pleasantries or a smile. If he was a friend of Sebastian’s, I had no desire to get to know him.

  “Luca Moreau.” His eyes were a lighter brown than Sebastian’s. The color of the whiskey I’d drunk, but there didn’t appear to be anything sweet about him.

  “I have to go. Sorry.” I maneuvered around him and rushed for the lift.

  Once downstairs, I sought out the two kids, hoping I wasn’t too late.

  I approached the teenager who’d mugged me. I still didn’t know his name, did I? “Can we talk?”

  A pair of light blue eyes peeked over the magazine. “What?” He lowered his reading material to the table.

  “I don’t think you should stay here. I can put you two up in another hotel.” Sebastian may have offered this kid a second chance after he’d attempted to mug me, but he had to have ulterior motives. I didn’t want this boy to ever have to owe him a debt. “Please.”

  “Why?” He looked at his brother across from him before bringing his eyes back to me.

  “I just think you’d be better off away from him.” I motioned to his black eye as one reason.

  “I can’t go.” He shook his head. “Sorry.”

  “But he’s . . .” I didn’t want to say more with his younger brother’s curious eyes on me.

  “The way I see it,” he began in a steady voice, “there’s probably no place safer to be than under his protection.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sebastian

  “You finally get her out of your system?” Luca poured himself a drink as my gaze moved across the room to Holly’s half-full glass on the end table next to the chair she’d vacated five minutes ago.

  What in the hell had she been thinking coming here? And getting half-naked in front of me?

  Luca strode my way a moment later. “Judging by that angry look you’re wearing, you didn’t screw her.”

  “What do you want?” I asked, irritated for so many damn reasons. “I have a meeting in thirty minutes.”

  “I went to the bar, and Ola said you were here.” He took a sip of his drink, eyes set on me. “Mind if I take Ola out?”

  “You go on a date? What happened to your vacation of self-discovery? Staying away from women?”

  “But Ola is a hot one. She acts like she hates me, but I think she’s playing hard to get.”

  Not a chance. “I’d prefer you keep your dick in your trousers.”

  “Just because you’re not getting any doesn’t mean I can’t.”

  I snatched Holly’s glass and took it to the kitchen sink. I nee
ded to remove all reminders she’d ever been here.

  This woman was going to destroy me, and I was okay with that as long as she didn’t get hurt.

  Getting off three to four times a day to thoughts of Holly wasn’t enough. I wanted her. More than just wanted her.

  It could never happen, and I’d have to keep yanking one out whenever I got the urge to tell her what was on my mind.

  But for her to show up while I was mid-stroke, and then to take her goddamn top off, letting me see her tits beneath that sheer bra . . .

  “So, why was the lovely Ms. McGregor here?”

  “Don’t change the subject. Ola’s off-limits.” She was perfectly capable of handling herself, but I didn’t want her to be in a position to have to.

  “Why?” He glared at me. “You want her, too?”

  “No,” I snapped. “But she’s a good person.”

  “And I’m not?” He laughed.

  “You’re League.”

  He scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? Being with me would make her much safer than her being alone.” He finished the rest of his drink and set the glass on the kitchen counter.

  Luca’s words were a cruel reminder of a choice I’d made and would regret every day.

  “I don’t know why you let women do this to you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  His eyes darkened, but he shook off whatever he was thinking, then smiled. “Make you crazy. Doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result—definition of insanity, right?”

  “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

  Of course, Holly was making me insane. And apparently, I was pushing her to walk that line as well.

  I’d flirted with her when I’d ordered myself not to.

  Then last night I’d kissed her, had my hands on her tight body.

  And tonight, I was seconds away from pinning her to the window and burying my face between her thighs to see if she tasted as sweet as that mouth of hers.

  But Limerick. Damn the deal that had to happen for reasons I could never reveal to her.

  I checked my watch. “I have to go.”

  “You didn’t answer my question about Ola,” he said as I grabbed my coat and put it on.