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“Can we talk somewhere?” “We are talking somewhere.” I took my AirPods out, dropping them into my front pocket. “Right here. And if you don’t tell me what it’s about, I’m afraid I’ll have to turn around, get into my car, and drive away.” “I’m afraid I’ll have to block your way out of here, if you do that.” He dragged his fingers through his tresses, each golden hair submitting to the movement, like a gust of wind swiping a wheat field. Spoiled brat. I stared at him with a mixture of irritation and confusion. “Then,” I said carefully, “I’m afraid I’ll have to run you over. So let’s spare you
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“Whoa, hold the phone. You really don’t have any idea who I am?” He touched my shoulder to stop me from entering the car as I opened the driver’s door. I looked at his hand with an arched brow. He withdrew it immediately. “No touching,” I said. “’Kay. So? You don’t?” He searched my face, his brows leveling with his hairline. I shook my head. “Not even the faintest clue. My condolences to your ego.”
“Priceless and worthless are the same sum, presented in different manners. Words make you or break you. By cursing, you reduce yourself to someone who cannot convey their feelings sufficiently.”
We all have scars,” Cillian said icily. “Some of us choose to wear them like fine jewels; others hide them. You simply try to ignore them. Face your problems, ceann beag. Because guess what? They’re not going anywhere.”
“If you’re asking me to choose between my family fortune and a girl, my answer is obvious—the fortune.” I paused, watching his throat working behind his silky orange tie. “But if you’re asking me to choose between the family fortune and Sailor Brennan, I’m going to have to kiss your money goodbye and bow out of this one, Fitzpatrick or not.” His smile evaporated. He wasn’t expecting that plot twist. Honestly, I wasn’t, either.
I, in return, promise to accommodate your poor language choices and ability to find a sexual innuendo in anything on the planet, and I promise not to touch your girlfriend.” “Well.” Sailor jumped into his speech, taking the bait, like Kill knew she would. He sat back and grinned at her, awaiting the verbal whip. “You don’t really have much choice in the matter. No offense, but I’d rather take a corpse to bed than you.” “None taken, and it would probably offer you more affection,” Cillian confirmed, returning his eyes to me.
