Rose liked to take one vacation a year—which sounded weird since she’d spent the last few years traveling around the world. But she was always working in whatever new city she’d temporarily settled down in. A cheap vacation to another European city for a few days or a beach resort on the coast was a break from the monotony of passionless employment.
However, when the fate of the world and her own future hung in the balance, vacation was torture. And her patience was about to be stretched to its limits.
The man had been watching Rose from across the pool for twenty minutes. In fact, she’d been an object of his fascination since last night at dinner, even though he was sitting across the restaurant with another woman in his company.
Clearly under some misapprehension that Rose would be interested in him, the man had attempted to catch her attention ever since. Rose felt his study the moment he’d come down to the pool.
Alone.
The lounger beside her creaked and Rose’s skin prickled.
“You are English, yes?”
Oh crap.
With a barely concealed sigh, Rose lowered her e-reader and turned her head to the right.
Sure enough, there he was.
Through the brown lenses of her sunglasses, Rose took in the man. He was of middling height, stocky, with enough definition in his arms and muscles that he felt the need to oil them up. He glistened a little crisply in the morning sun, like a well-basted turkey. Sitting with his legs spread, junk haphazardly tucked into a red banana hammock, the man leaned his elbows on his knees and grinned at Rose, deep dimples popping in his cheeks. Although he wore dark shades, Rose could feel his scrutiny of her entire body. Her skin crawled.
“My name is Prince. Yours?”
Rose guessed from his accent he was from the Mediterranean, and she’d bet Prince was about to live up to the caricature of a Mediterranean sleazebag.
Getting straight to the point, she replied, “Where’s your wife?”
He grinned, his teeth flashing bright white against his skin. “Girlfriend,” he corrected. “She is having time at the spa, yes.”
Rose promptly returned her attention to her e-reader.
She felt a tickle on her thigh and glanced down to see he was scoring his fingertip along her skin.
It was difficult to not let the trauma bubbling beneath the surface spew out all over this creep. Teeth gritted together, Rose ordered, “Remove your hand or lose it.”
Prince chuckled but stopped touching her. “Oh, come. I just have fun, yes? I wonder to myself, what a sexy woman like you doing here alone. A tragedy, yes?”
“A tragedy?” Rose skewered him with a death look. “A tragedy is a woman spending her life with a man who hits on other women behind her back.”
“Oh!” He nodded, grinning like he’d just figured something out. “You think I cheat, yes? No.” He scooted closer to her. “Mia and I don’t, how you say, do sex with just me and her.”
“How nice for you.” Rose brought the e-reader closer to her face hoping he’d take a hint.
“We could go back to your room, yes?”
Really?
She huffed and pushed her sunglasses up into her hair so he could see the growing annoyance in her expression. “How do I say this so you’ll understand? I am not interested in anything you’re selling.”
He frowned. “No interested?”
“Nope. Go bother someone else.”
“Oh, no, no.” He reached out and pulled her hand from her device and placed it between his two palms. His voice lowered throatily. “I give you much pleasure, yes.”
Feeling the tingle of her magic sparking beneath the surface, Rose fought for self-control. Taking a deep breath, she leaned toward him, watching his eyes flash with delight, and allowed a little of the supernatural purr to be heard in her words. “Unless you want me to neuter you permanently, let go of my hand.”
His grip loosened, her tone making his smile fall. “Neuter?”
“Emasculate. Castrate. Eviscerate.”
Prince dropped her hand like a hot stone, clearly understanding now.
Goose bumps prickled over Rose’s skin, a shiver skating down her spine, and she knew without even having to turn and look that Fionn Mór was in the vicinity.
Her pulse took off.
Finally.
She heard his footsteps first, most likely the sound of expensive designer shoes slapping against the wet tile surrounding the pool.
Then he was there, a mammoth figure blocking out the sun, his features lost in shadows.
Something that had been hurting, like an infected wound, eased inside her. At the same time, all the anger she’d been holding on to burned in her throat.
Rose lowered her glasses back over her eyes and Fionn stepped between the two loungers, letting the sun shine on her again and consequently illuminating himself. Despite her turmoil, Rose inspected every inch of him, taking in the short-sleeved white shirt open at the collar, straining against his thick biceps. It was tucked into a pair of navy suit trousers. Expensive loafers, a stainless steel watch, and cool-as-fuck dark aviator shades completed his look.
Fionn’s attention wasn’t on her.
It was on the creep beside her.
“Fuck off,” Fionn demanded.
Prince skittered out of the lounger and hurried toward the hotel as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.
Rose turned from watching him. “Do you think if I had been that succinct, I’d have gotten rid of him as easily?”
Even though Fionn’s eyes were hidden behind his shades, Rose could feel his gaze running over her body. Unlike how Prince made her feel, she shivered, a deep, wanting tug making itself known low in her belly.
“In that bikini?” Fionn grunted as he lowered himself to the end of her lounger. “Doubtful.”
The flicker of pleasure she felt over this backhanded compliment enraged her. It took a lot not to launch herself at him and start a fight that would reveal their true natures to the surrounding humans.
His hand grazed the side of her foot as he aimed his body toward her. Rose shivered again, automatically pulling her feet away from him, folding her legs toward her chest.
“Interesting choice of hideout,” Fionn commented, his tone bland.
“How did you find me?” She already suspected how but she wanted to know for certain.
“Your parents. I flew to Maryland.”
The thought of her parents made her tense. “Are … are they okay?”
“They’re safe. And they’ll remain safe under my protection.”
Relief moved through her. They were safe. Thank God. “How did you …”
“I broke in while they were out.” He lifted a hand. A gold chain holding a gold R pendant and a little golden figure of a gymnast mid back handspring dangled from his fingers. Her parents bought it for her eighth birthday.
“What else did you steal?”
Fionn’s lips twitched. “You know me that well, Rose?”
“I know that you wouldn’t travel all the way to America to steal just a necklace. You’d need other items for insurance.”
“I stole a few things. Don’t want to lose you again.”
Her heart literally skipped a beat at his words, and she hated that she wanted to read more into them than he meant.
“So, what now?”
“Tell me where An Breitheamh is.”
Ah, straight to the point.
Feeling hurt, even though she’d known all along that’s why he was there, Rose felt like inciting a little frustration in him. Setting aside her e-reader, she slid across the lounger, opening her legs so the point of the knee he had turned toward her contacted the inner thigh of her right leg. She felt him stiffen ever so slightly, and that was before she placed her hand on his knee, smoothed it down his inner thigh, feeling the hard, hot muscle beneath his suit pants.
“I’ve missed you.” Unfortunately, it wasn’t entirely a lie.
Just as Rose’s fingertips neared the now-tented hardness between his legs, Fionn grabbed her wrist, stalling her movement. His grip was tight, bruising, as he hauled her against him, her chest pressed to his.