Nolan (Dangerous Doms 3)

Keenan mutters something, shaking his head, but Fiona looks hopeful. My body feels both warm and cold, my belly tight.

Nolan gets to his feet, and Keenan watches him. “Meeting in thirty,” he says. Turning to his mother, he gives her a nod. “Get them situated in the spare room for now, no call to Finn. Call Sebastian and have Fiona’s wrist looked at.”

“Looks like you could use a visit with Sebastian yourself,” Maeve says, gesturing to his lacerated hands from the night before.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he says. “Don’t you worry about me.”

Nolan reaches for my hand. “Sheena.”

Tiernan’s on his feet while Fiona watches everything. She knows something’s awry, but it’s Tiernan I need to worry about.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” I tell him. “Nolan and I will talk to the others is all. We’ll be sure you’re safe here.”

I want to scream against Nolan, beat my hands on his chest and rail for what he’s doing to me, what he’s putting me through. And I want to weep with relief. I’m so confused, not sure how I should even react.

Nolan’s on his phone, his grip on me firm.

“Meeting,” he snaps into the phone.

My heart does a little somersault when he commands these men. He was born for this.

Keenan nods. “I’ll prepare the office.”

“No Finn.”

Keenan nods. “I won’t call him. You have my word.”

When the men have dispersed, Nolan turns to me. “Before the meeting? You and I will have a talk.”

There’s something ominous in the way he says it. We’ll have a talk.

I wonder what precisely he has in mind.

He reaches for the handle of a door right behind him. I don’t know where I am, what he’s doing, or what’s happening. He pulls me into the darkened room, shuts the door, then pulls the latch behind us.Chapter 11NolanI saw how close Keenan came to ruining everything. I won’t allow it to happen. I can’t.

She angers me like no one else, but there’s more to this fierce, brave woman than meets the eye. Anyone would want to see to the safety of her young siblings. Well, nearly anyone. But Keenan’s right. We aren’t in the business of charity.

But I just put my neck on the line for her. I’m on the cusp of defying my brother, and the responsibility of how this all goes fall squarely on my shoulders.

I yank her into one of our meeting rooms, lock the door behind us, and shove her up against the wall.

“This again?” she says with a coy, breathy whisper.

“Not now, Sheena.” My body shakes with the need to dominate her, to convey to her how important it is she not fuck this up. I keep myself in check with effort. “Now is the time for you to drop the game. We’re playing life and death here, doll, and you’re outnumbered.”

The teasing glint in her eye fades, and her voice wavers a little.

“Don’t let him call the Father, Nolan,” she says. “I can’t… I won’t… Goddamn it, Nolan, I’ll give you what you want, but you have to make sure they’re safe.”

“Of course,” I tell her. “What do you think I am, a monster?”

She closes her eyes briefly before answering. “Sometimes? Yes.”

I don’t blame her. I’ve done wicked, cruel things in my life, some things I regret and some I don’t. I’m not sure what she knows of me and what she only surmises, but I do know one thing. The pull between us, this thing, whatever it is, is undeniable, and I’ll be a damn fool to ignore it.

“I’m taking you into a meeting with my brothers,” I tell her. “You’ll be expected to answer. And how you answer will determine how we treat you. Understood?”

She nods. “Of course. Yes.”

I weave my fingers through her mass of red hair. The knot at her neck comes loose when I tug her head back.

“Try again, doll.”

Her lust-filled eyes meet mine, and she lets out the breath she was holding. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

She’s too eager to be used, too turned on by being mastered. I can’t threaten and hurt her to get answers, nor do I want to.

I’ll have to try other methods.

We’re in a small room used for bookkeeping, and brief, private meetings. There’s a small desk with a computer, a cup filled with pens, some papers and notebooks, and in one corner, a large, overstuffed chair.

I take her by the hand and lead her over to it, sit heavily, and draw her over my lap. There’s a fire that builds between us I need to stoke, and roles I need to clarify.

If I leave her wanting, she’s less likely to fight me in front of a roomful of my brothers.

“Nolan!” she protests, but I’m certain she only fights me because she feels she ought to.

“Counted out your punishment last night, didn’t I?”