Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
She usually worked from nine to two at Jacques’s, and then woke late and hit the gym for an hour or two, where she went through her regular Krav Maga training, then worked with newbies, assisting as necessary. There was always a need of sparring partners, and she was more than happy to help out. Anything to make sure the person across from her had the skills necessary to ensure that they never ended up as helpless as she’d been when she was attacked.
But she hadn’t had time to research gyms in Boston—or talk to Aiden about what he expected of her while they played out this scenario.
After showering and throwing on a pair of ridiculously expensive jeans and a flowy tank top, she padded out of the room on bare feet. No guard stood outside the door, so she wandered down the hall, taking it all in.
Last night she’d been too overwhelmed and exhausted to really notice the space she moved through. There was something strange about the hallway, but it wasn’t until she was halfway to the stairs that she realized what it was. Charlie stopped and looked back the way she’d come. No photos. There weren’t any in the rooms she’d been in downstairs, either, now that she thought about it.
Downstairs, she could understand. Her dad might have a scattering of photos from the last twenty-nine years on the fridge, but the few framed ones were in the upstairs hallway. He didn’t take meetings in their house, but some habits die hard, and displaying his weakness—Charlie—went against the grain.
But to have no photos at all?
That spoke volumes about the family that lived in this place.
She turned back to the stairs. What else will I find if I do some snooping? Aiden and the O’Malleys weren’t technically the enemy, but she’d have to be a fool twice over to take whatever information he decided to feed her without questioning it. Meeting his siblings last night had only driven home what the stakes were—and the fact that the knife in the darkness coming for her might not be held by a Romanov but an O’Malley. Or a Halloran. Or a Sheridan.
Charlie didn’t want to admit that her dad was right and that she was in over her head, but it was sure as hell starting to feel that way.
She walked to the stairs and peered over the railing. Raised voices—Aiden and Cillian—but they were muffled enough that she couldn’t pick out the words. She doubted she could make it down the stairs and to the office door to eavesdrop without their realizing she was there and turning the conversation to safe topics, so she headed toward the back of the house. There had to be a second stairwell around here somewhere.
The temptation to explore the closed doors lining the hallway rose, but she held back. There were two doors—Aiden’s and another—on this leg of the hallway, before it took a hard right turn. Charlie walked to the corner and counted another three doors before the hallway turned again, creating a U shape. Seven rooms…for seven children?
She looked at the room across from Aiden’s and opened the door before she could talk herself out of it. She stopped just inside the doorframe, inhaling a spicy feminine scent. The décor was the very definition of luxury, the big white bed looking soft enough to swallow a person whole, and the dresser along the opposite wall scattered with expensive-looking jewelry and perfume bottles.
The decorations were too…understated to belong to Keira. She didn’t know much about the other sister—Sloan—but Charlie bet this room had belonged to Carrigan. From Liam’s brief family history, the woman hadn’t lived here in almost two years. And yet her room looked as fresh as it would have if she’d just stepped out this morning.
“What are you doing?”
Charlie didn’t jump, but it was a near thing. She glanced over her shoulder at Aiden, noting that he stared at her and pointedly didn’t look around the room she stood in. It didn’t matter that he gave nothing away with his expression or body language—the information was as clear in what he didn’t do as what he did. So much baggage there. “I was curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
She snorted. “And satisfaction brought him back—which isn’t quite the same kind of warning.”
“Funny.” His tone said he found her anything but. He stepped backward, a clear demand for her to join him in the hallway. That was all she needed to confirm the room had belonged to Carrigan.
Charlie closed the door softly behind her. The move left her close enough to touch Aiden, but she hesitated, not sure where they stood after last night. He’d driven her to ecstasy more times than she could count…but he’d never kissed her.
Makes sense. Kissing is far more intimate than sex when it comes right down to it.