Irish Bear's Bride (Boston Bear Brothers 3)

Standing behind the door with it poised above her head, she held her breath while she waited for whoever they’d sent for her to enter. As the door opened wider, she got a glimpse of her intruder in the mirror.

“Oh, thank God,” she said, receiving a cry of surprise in return.

“What are ye doing there, lass?” a young man in a hotel uniform asked, eying the votive still clutched tightly in her hands.

“What are you doing?” she retorted, her relief now transitioning to annoyance as she set the candleholder back down on the counter.

“I didn’t realize they’d checked anyone into the room until I entered. I thought ye’ were out. I was just refilling your tea tray and leaving some fresh towels,” the young man gasped, now looking away, no doubt embarrassed by the fact he’d caught her not fully dressed.

“Then why did you knock?” she blurted.

“It’s just in case of situations like this one. When you didn’t answer, I assumed the room was still empty,” he said, his face flushed.

“Thank you. Please go now,” she barked.

“Aye,” he said, walking back out the door, where he hesitated before exiting. “I’m sorry, miss. I hope ye won’t be telling the desk on me for this. I didn’t mean it to go bad.”

“You’re fine. Just go on with you,” she replied.

“Thank you, Miss,” he replied, hurrying out the door and closing it behind him.

Deidre flipped the deadbolt to prevent any further intrusions and went to get dressed. She eyed the handful of things she had brought with her and pulled out a dress she’d rolled up to minimize wrinkles and maximize space. She didn’t have any dress shoes, but she did have a pair of thin black house slippers that could pass for the purposes of wandering around the hotel.

She finished dressing and dried her hair, looking into the mirror at her makeup-free face with a scowl. She made do with a bit of the hand lotion the hotel had provided to soften her look. She didn’t have much more than that in the suitcases belonging to the McNally brothers.

When she’d ran from Trill, she’d gotten away with nothing more than her clothes and what she could stuff in a large purse without it being noticeable. Her family had given her a few things while she was at her uncle’s house, but that was limited to clothing and necessities as she knew she’d be running again soon and wanted to keep it light.

She sighed at herself and walked back out into the room. It was tempting to just order food for the room, but no one was looking for her there, and she wanted to do something that felt normal after having lived in an attic for a week and hidden in a cabin with two strangers for the night. Her hands shook slightly as she made her way down to the hotel restaurant and asked for a table.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we’re all booked up for the afternoon and into the evening, as it is,” a smiling young lad told her.

“Oh,” she said, glancing down at her ill-clad feet and looking around toward what looked like a bar or coffee shop on the other side of the lobby.

“Both the lobby bar and the Piano Bar have an incredibly broad selection of food prepared in our kitchen. It’s just up the stairs there,” he said, pointing, “There should be room for you there. No events on tonight, so there should be plenty of room.”

“Oh, great. Cheers for that,” she told him, heading for the staircase on the other side of the lobby.

Climbing the stairs, she stepped into the massive bar overlooking the bustling streets of Belfast below. She took a seat near the window and near the piano. It was a genuinely charming hotel and a nice bar.

Normally, she wouldn’t indulge herself on someone else’s dime, but from what her uncle had told her of the McNally brothers, they could spare the money. They’d gained it through strong-arming people like her, those who were forced to pay them for protection.

If she hadn’t been in such a dire situation, she’d not have accepted their help, but sometimes you had to turn to ruthless men to combat their own kind. They’d already proven resourceful and fearless, despite being grossly outnumbered here. There was something else—something about the one named Niall.

“What can I get for you?” a server asked, appearing from nowhere and catching her off guard.

“Oh, I...wine, I think.”

“Red or white? Or perhaps something bubbly?”

“Red. Um, your house merlot will do fine.”

“Will that be all?”

“No. Can I get a food menu, as well?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be right back with those.”

Deidre nodded and turned toward the window, watching the people on the street below. She’d only been to Belfast a handful of times in her life. There hadn’t been much call to come up here when she was younger. Her mother had brought her a few times to shop, before everything had gone to shit with the Maguires cleaning out any and every clan that they deemed a threat.