Nolan (Dangerous Doms 3)

“I’ve some concerns, Nolan,” I say to him. “We’ve borrowed your home and taken up your time. I can’t ask that you spend even more time teaching Tiernan.”

Not only that, it scares me to think of my brother being involved in anything dangerous.

Nolan shrugs. “He’s got a good head, Sheena. He’s brave and strong, and would do well to learn the skills we can teach him.”

“You have time?”

“We can make it.”

“Right,” I tell him. “But…” I don’t know how else to state my concerns.

We don’t belong here. They owe us nothing. I have to do my job, then we’ll be on our way. Somehow.

He tugs me closer to him, and I’m overwhelmed with his strong, clean smell, woodsmoke and leather. He laces his fingers around the back of my neck and smiles, though he has a glint in his eyes I know too well.

“What are you afraid of, doll?” he asks. “There’s fear in your eyes you can’t hide. Are you afraid he’ll get hurt?”

“Well, no,” I tell him. “But yes. Yes, I am.”

He smiles. “He might, but it’ll only make him stronger. We’ve all been trained, and it was for the best.”

“I just… it concerns me to see that my brothers and sister are… are growing attached, as it were. But we can’t do that, can’t form these attachments, you see.”

Nolan’s jaw firms. “And why’s that?”

“Because we don’t belong here,” I tell him. “You know it, Nolan. You have a family. There’s no room for us here. I have to do my job then get out of your hair. And that means taking them with me.”

I watch as his jaw grows rigid. I know that look. “And that’s your decision, then, is it?”

I shake my head. I’m not sure what to say, how to argue my point. “I didn’t say it was, Nolan. But we’ve brought trouble here. Between my mother and my brother and me. And… the sooner we get out of your hair, the better.”

We’re back at the house. Lachlan and Carson go their way, and Maeve is waiting for us in the entryway. I wonder if she waited for us. If she did, that’s admittedly sort of cute. I wish I hadn’t let myself grow to hate her, when it seems she’s done nothing wrong at all.

If Nolan loves her… can I?

“Dinner’s ready,” she says. “Will you be joining us, then?”

A newly awake Sam reaches his arms for her, and she smiles, bends, and lifts him up.

“No,” Nolan says. “Not tonight. Have them fed and see what they need,” he says. “Tiernan, you’ll go with me to St. Albert’s at the weekend. Aye?”

Tiernan’s eyes brighten and he grins, actually grins at Nolan. My heart… God, my heart. I’m so used to steeling myself against this type of thing, of not letting myself become vulnerable, but Nolan does every single thing to rip down every damn barricade I’ve put up.

“Sheena and I need some time alone, to talk of a few things,” he says. He draws himself up to his full height, and I swear it seems he fills the whole damn room. His eyes cut to mine, sharp and stern, and his jaw firms. “Don’t we, lass?”

Do we?

When he looks at me like that, his voice hard, the power he holds emanating from his very pores, I’m done for.

I’m not Sheena Hurston the investigative reporter, or the girl who fought her way out of misery and made a life for herself.

I’m a melty, boneless, puddle of goo.

“Aye,” I say, my voice husky, betraying the excitement and nerves that pulse through my body.

“Right, then,” Maeve says. “Off we go.”

Heated voices rise in the direction of the dining room. Nolan looks that way, then shakes his head and looks back to me.

“Something you need to tend to?”

“Oh, there’s something I need to tend to,” he says with meaning. He tugs me by the hand to the stairs.

“I mean in the other room. Is everything okay?”

He snorts. “Course it is. Haven’t you been around these men of The Clan long enough to know? We’re brothers. Hardly a few days go by without one or two of them having a tussle. Just the way it goes.”

But he’s lying. He does want to find out what’s going on.

“Still, I can tell you want to investigate.”

“Aye,” he says, when we reach the landing. “I do, and I will, but by the time I’ve got you sorted, they likely will have sorted themselves out anyway.”

“I’m not so sure I need sorting out,” I begin to protest. With a shake of his head, he gives me a tug so I’m in front of him, then slams his palm against my backside, a firm but teasing smack I feel straight to my sex.

“Oh, but you do.”

“Not sure what I’ve done,” I say. “And what do you mean by—”