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As an undercover FBI agent, Kimi is no stranger to life-threatening situations. When her newest assignment leads to the Donaghey brothers, one of Boston's biggest crime families, Kimi is confident she can handle the pressure.
But as she becomes embroiled in the lives of Finn and Lorcan, she realizes she might not be able to separate her job as Kim from the heart of Kimi quite so easily this time.
On the cusp of a mob war, Kimi must decide who to believe and who to save. Sometimes doing the right thing means doing something very wrong.
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Excerpt
Copyright 2024, Wendy Million
He chuckles and again his gaze roves over my face as though he’s trying to piece me together. My hot-pink dress is garnering little attention from him. Should I be pleased or offended?
“You got any mates? I’m looking for someone like you.”
Carys tightens her grip on me and sips her whiskey. “She’s taken. Keep your mitts off her.”
He raises his glass, eyeing me over the top. “People who can be bought aren’t for me, Carys. You know that.”
She scoffs. “Not true, Lorcan. I do know you. I’ve played this all wrong. I should have told you she was thinking about leaving my organization.”
“I am terribly unhappy.” My gaze connects with Lorcan’s, and I offer a mischievous smile.
An answering smile spreads across his face. “That so? Now, Carys, you need to treat your everything woman a touch better before someone swoops in and sweeps her away.”
“As long as you aren’t the someone, Lorcan.” She glances at me. “I appreciate the effort, but I’m afraid once he’s on the hunt, he can’t be deterred.”
“You make me sound terrible.” Amusement pours out of him.
“I used to like you,” Carys says. “Finn, on the other hand…”
“… is an acquired taste.” Lorcan’s grin fades. “One I’ve gone off recently.”
She glances at me and then back to Lorcan. I’ve seen that look on her face before. She’s trying to figure out the best approach.
“Sorry to hear that,” I murmur, surprised by the sudden chill in the air.
His lips quirk up. “You wouldn’t be sorry if you knew him.” He empties his whiskey. “It’s been a pleasure, ladies. Thank you for the drink. You know me well, Carys.” With a nod to his men, Lorcan drifts into the crowd, leaving me and Carys to finish our drinks on our own.
“Shit.” She sighs and taps her glass with a fingernail. “I should have left Finn out of it.”
“Can’t ask him if he wants a deal without letting him know there’s a deal to be done.”
“Their organization buys arms, just not from me.” Carys purses her lips. “It should be me. It’d be a good time to slip in there. Maybe we can still salvage it later.”
“Are you doing that or…”
“If you get a chance to ask, fine by me. Plant a seed, see if it grows.”
Lorcan breezes through the crowd with his two burly security guards trailing behind him. He’s a small fish in an arms world. Carys does much bigger, more ethically comprised deals than this. She hasn’t let me near those yet. If I get out of here tonight with what I want, I’ll never see them. I’m going to need to work fast to recapture his attention. His late arrival means there are two hours until this event finishes, and he’s cut our conversation short.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re not one to be charmed,” Carys draws out the words, and I think she must be watching Lorcan like me.
I smirk and raise my eyebrows. “Is there a but?”
A smile plays on her lips. “No, I suppose there isn’t.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” I say. “If I can get him to consider a deal, I will. And, if not, it’s been a pleasant evening. We haven’t been to an event like this in a while.” I knock back the rest of my whiskey and wiggle my glass at her. “Another?”
“No, I have people I want to connect with. Tonight is bigger than I expected.”
“I’ll be at the bar.”
Carys and I move in opposite directions as she heads off to make or solidify her contacts. I sidle up to the bar and place my empty glass to the side. This end of the bar is for standing, but farther down, there are a number of stools with people perched on them, chatting away to each other. The ballroom is vast and airy, though the perfume and cologne circulating are enough to cause an asthma attack. Above the bar, pendulum lights are set low to match the rest of the mood lighting. Most of the charitable events I’ve attended with Carys have been dimly lit. It must seem too intrusive to ask for money with the brightness turned to full.
I’m waiting for the bartender, wondering how I can slip myself into conversation with Lorcan when a shoulder brushes mine.
“Be a shame for someone as talented as you to be unhappy with your employer,” a deep voice says in my ear. His lilting accent is a sound I could get used to. It calls me back to the hours my father spent devouring anything Irish.
He’s so close, Lorcan’s hazel eyes are piercing in their intensity. The musky scent of his cologne floods my senses, and I’m glad for my training. Cool. Unaffected. “How do you know I’m talented?”
“Carys isn’t one for bigging people up who don’t deserve it.” He turns away to signal the bartender with a finger. “Two whiskeys.”
In this business, men are everywhere. But there’s something in the curve of his shoulders, the slant of his jaw under the goatee, which makes him familiar. Part of his appeal has nothing to do with appearance and everything to do with the way he carries himself. Confidence seeps out of him, oozing over everything he touches.
The bartender passes the two glasses to us, and I pick mine up with my fingertips, swishing it around, letting the ice clink against the sides.
His back is against the bar railing, and his elbows are on the wood, so he can stare out across the wide expanse of the room. When he shifts toward me, his gaze connects with mine over the rim of his glass. “When are you heading home?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. Carys offered to show me some sites around Boston.”
One side of his mouth twitches as though he’s holding in his amusement. “Sounds grand.”
“Does it?” I avoid looking at him directly, keeping my back to the room.
“Not quite as grand as coming round to mine for a meeting.”
“What would we be meeting about?” I peer into my glass, hope rising in me.
“See if one of us can make the other an offer they can’t refuse.”
“I get offers all the time. I refuse them all.” Our little game of cat and mouse amuses me, but I keep my features smooth.
“You never had one from me.”
Somehow, I’ve managed to finish another drink. “I guess we’ll see what you’ve got then. I’m a tough nut to crack.”
He places his finished drink onto the bar. “I’m counting on it. Tell Carys to call me.”
When I turn around, he and his men are gone.
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