They didn’t talk much for the rest of the drive. Cillian kept a hold of Olivia’s hand, and the little shakes that made it through that tiny point of contact worried him. He understood her fear. Even if Dmitri Romanov didn’t have a reputation for being one cold son of a bitch, any family like theirs would fight tooth and nail to keep its members close and under its thumb. His included.
Hell, between his father and brother, they’d driven Carrigan away by trying to marry her off to none other than Dmitri Romanov. He wondered if Olivia knew that, though he doubted it from her comments about her half brother keeping his word. It was something Cillian would have to tell her, because it was one more reason to prompt the man to come after them. No wonder Dmitri had been downright delighted to discover she’d gotten close to Cillian. He was still pissed about how things had turned out six months ago. Dmitri hadn’t done anything overtly threatening since then, but he also hadn’t responded to Father’s attempts to make things right.
He could be the one behind the missing money.
Cillian filed the thought away for later. Once he had the information from Aiden, he could figure things out one way or another. Coming up with wild theories wasn’t going to help anyone—only facts would. Right now, he needed to focus on making Olivia and her daughter as secure and safe as possible.
That, at least, he could do.
He took the turn onto the dirt road leading out to the country house. His mother had wanted it paved years ago, but his father dug in his heels about it. It had been a dirt road since his childhood, and while he might allow a few upgrades in the house itself, he wanted the land kept as untouched as possible. It was one of the strange contradictions of Seamus O’Malley. He was unashamedly a city man who loved his luxuries, but when they came out here, it was like something relaxed in him. Like he was transported back to a simpler time before he became one of the three crime lords in Boston.
Naturally, it was only in the last year that Cillian had been able to look back and realize that. Growing up, he’d been more focused on cramming as many adventures into their time out here as possible. He wound through the trees, going slow to avoid some of the potholes that had developed over the years. It was like stepping into another world. He and his siblings had roamed these woods during the few weeks of each summer they spent out here. Oh, Sloan and Devlin had always posted up somewhere with a book and ignored the rest of their siblings’ pleas to come play, but the rest of them had never been closer than when they were away from the city.
It wasn’t like that anymore.
Time changed everyone. He knew that.
When Aiden finished high school, their father deemed him old enough to start the training his being heir required. He hadn’t gone away all at once, but somewhere in the last decade or so, he’d become a near-stranger. And Teague…Teague had nearly disappeared into himself before Callie came along. Now Carrigan was dead to the family, Sloan was more ghost than woman, and Keira was on a path of self-destruction that worried even him.
And Devlin?
Devlin was six feet underground, his future cut off in the space of a heartbeat.
Cillian stopped in front of the house, but didn’t turn off the engine. The building rose out of the clearing in the middle of the trees, a giant structure that looked like something out of the Revolutionary War. Since it had been built sometime around then, he figured that made sense. But it was home away from home.
He turned to Olivia. “Stay in the car. I need to check in with my men to make sure it’s safe, and then I’ll be back.”
She nodded, exhaustion and stress written all over her face. The last twenty-four hours had taken a toll on her, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe it all away. Since that wasn’t a real option, he’d do what he could—provide her a safe place where she could breathe until they figured out the next step.
The warm night air brought the sounds of crickets. He stopped for a second and just inhaled, letting clean country scents wash over him. Boston was home, but this was a close second. Forcing himself to focus, he climbed the steps to the front door.
Mark met him on the big wraparound porch. “All clear. There hasn’t been anyone here since your sisters.” When they’d been hidden away during the fallout of the conflict with the Hallorans.
“Perfect.” He nodded. “And the rest?”
“I have the men stationed at the easy access points, and one of us will always be in the house.” Mark jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s enough food to last until Monday, and I’ve scheduled a delivery for the morning.”
In short, he’d taken care of everything just like Cillian asked. “Good.” He glanced over his shoulder. “My friend isn’t used to a bodyguard presence.” And he wasn’t sure how her daughter would respond. The little tyke had been sleeping through the entire drive. Olivia had enough to worry about without Hadley being scared by strange men looming in the background.
“Got it. I’ll tell the boys to make themselves scarce.” With that, he strode around the side of the house.
Cillian made his way back to the car and opened Olivia’s door. “We’re good. If you want to get Hadley inside, I’ll grab your suitcase.”
She climbed out and looked around. “When I think of the O’Malleys, I don’t think of a place like this. It’s a weird combination of peaceful and creepy.”
“That about sums it up.” He laughed softly. “It’s an old family property by way of my father.”
“I think I like it.” She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could catch her lavender and vanilla scent. Olivia ran her hands up his chest and met his gaze. “Thank you. I know you didn’t have to do this, and I’m bringing a whole lot in the way of baggage to the table, but you didn’t hesitate. So…thank you.”
He covered her hands with his, holding them in place. “No thanks necessary. I want you safe—both of you—and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you are.”
“Cillian…” She went up onto her tiptoes and framed his face with her hands. She kissed him, soft and sweet and lingering. “You are better than I deserve.”
He stood there for a second after she’d moved away to the rear passenger door to unbuckle her kid, rooted in place by the sheer intimacy of the kiss. He’d dated, but he couldn’t remember a single time that a girlfriend had kissed him the way Olivia just did—as something that was done just for the sake of itself, rather than a gateway to something more. It brought to mind casual weekday evenings spent lounging on the couch together and Sunday mornings spent in Mass.
Slow your roll, man. One kiss and you’re dangerously close to putting a ring on her finger. She’s probably not even Catholic. He snorted. Like that mattered to him. Sure, his family would shit a brick, but that was the least of his concerns right now.
Devlin would like her.
He waited for the inevitable flash of searing pain and breathlessness that thinking of his younger brother brought, but there was only a tentative warmth. Come to think of it, he hadn’t had a daytime panic attack since he and Olivia started circling each other. Cillian watched her walk through the front door, still trying to wrap his mind around it.
Was he actually starting to heal? If he was, she was part of the reason, the thing that had shoved him out of his rut and back into life.
I don’t want to let that go. I don’t want to let her go.
He grabbed his bag and her suitcase and followed her into the house. Hadley chose that moment to wake up, blinking big dark eyes so like her mom’s at him. She was an adorable little thing, all pudgy cheeks and curly brown hair, and when she sent him a grin, he saw she only had a handful of itty-bitty teeth. It was downright charming. He grinned back, laughing a little when she ducked her head under her mother’s long fall of hair. “Cute.”
Olivia glanced over her shoulder. “She is, isn’t she?”
Mark had left the lights on leading through the formal living room and into the kitchen. Cillian set the bags at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”
“Not really, but Hadley probably is.” She tickled her daughter. “Aren’t you, baby girl?”
“Yes!”
“Thought so.” She sent him a look that was half-nervous, half-unapologetic. “We’ll be right back.” She moved into the hallway, swooping down to grab a smaller pink bag that had been on top of the suitcase.
Left to his own devices, Cillian searched the cupboards. There were plenty of canned goods and nonperishables, and he found a jar of homemade jelly that he was damn sure no one in his family had actually made and a tub of peanut butter. Mark and the boys must have picked up a few things on their way up here, because there were several loaves of bread on the kitchen island, and three gallons of milk in the fridge.
And bacon. Lots of bacon.
He snorted. At least they have their priorities in order.
Since Olivia hadn’t reappeared, he got to work putting together three PB&J sandwiches. It only took a few minutes and, after some consideration, he cut the crust off of one of them. He seemed to remember Keira going through a stage where she refused to eat crust on anything for years. Then he poured three glasses of milk. He wasn’t a huge fan, but he figured Olivia needed the calories. Plus, little kids were supposed to drink a lot of milk, weren’t they?
Hell, he didn’t know.
She came back into the kitchen as he situated the plates and glasses on the little nook table set against the bay windows. It was getting dark now, but in the morning the sun warmed the whole room. He glanced over. “I hope you like milk and PB&J.”
“I’m not really hungry.” She set Hadley at the plate with no crust and smiled. “How’d you know?”
“Educated guess.” He didn’t have a whole lot of knowledge when it came to kids, but he was going to do his best. He pointed at the plate on the other side of the kid. “Even if you’re not hungry, you need to eat. It’s important to keep up your energy.” Something his parents had taught him a long time ago. The O’Malleys had only been on the brink of war once that he could remember, but the risk was always there. It didn’t matter what kind of crisis showed up, they were expected to keep functioning as if the world wasn’t falling apart around them. It was great in theory, but he’d seen it in practice when Devlin died. There was something so wrong about moving on with life while the world was falling apart around them.
“I don’t know.”
He angled his body away from Hadley and ran his hand down Olivia’s spine. As much as he didn’t want to traumatize the kid, being this close without touching Olivia, even innocently, felt unnatural. “We might have to bolt with little-to-no notice. If you’re ready to pass out from exhaustion and hunger, you’re not going to be able to keep up.” Yeah, it was harsh and, no, he’d never leave her behind, but he needed to get through to her. If she didn’t take care of herself—or let him take care of her—they were going to be in trouble.
“Fine. I’ll eat.” She grabbed a sippy cup he hadn’t noticed and poured Hadley’s milk into it. After depositing that in front of her daughter, she dropped into her own chair.
“Good.” He took the seat across from her and went to work on his own sandwich. Truth be told, he wasn’t really hungry either, but since he’d just made a big deal about eating to Olivia, he had to follow his own advice. He watched Hadley out of the corner of his eye, amused that she seemed to be smearing more peanut butter and jelly on her face than she was getting into her mouth. She downed half her cup of milk and sat back with a burp that would have done any one of his brothers proud. Cillian grinned. “Nice.”
For her part, Olivia looked horrified. “Oh my God, I’m sorry.”
“Why? Compliments to the chef.” His mother would have sent him a death glare if he’d belched at the dinner table, but he wasn’t about to tell Olivia that. He sat back with a sigh. “So, what’s next?”
“I need to get this one cleaned up, and settled in, but then…” Her gaze landed on him, a low heat kindling there. “Then we’ll see.”
“Olivia.” He took a deep breath, trying to get his body’s instant reaction to her tone under control. “Let’s get you guys set up in one of the spare suites. That should meet your needs nicely.” Though, truth be told, there was suddenly one specific need he was looking forward to meeting. He glanced at the clock on the wall. From the level of Hadley’s stickiness, he had a good fifteen to twenty minutes to touch base with Mark and do a perimeter check of his own before they settled in for the night. Hopefully that would be enough to keep him distracted from the fact that he and Olivia pretty much had the house to themselves.
He wasn’t liking his odds, though.
*
Olivia stripped Hadley down as the bath filled, her thoughts a thousand miles away. Every time she turned around, Cillian was surprising the hell out of her. First, he’d put himself out there to get her somewhere safe, then he’d made sure she was eating and had taken care of Hadley. Taken care of her, right from the second she first reached out to him. She didn’t know what to think of that.
No, that was a lie. She knew exactly what to think of it. She liked it. She liked it a lot. In a world filled with untrustworthy and downright murderous men, Cillian stood apart as a shining star of virtue. She snorted. Okay, maybe not virtue. Very little of what they’d done together since they met was virtuous, but that didn’t change the fact that he had yet to betray her.
She looked around the bathroom, taking in the understated décor. The entire house was made up like that, comfortable and attractive and downright cozy now that night had set in. Something had changed in Cillian when they got out of the car below. He hadn’t quite relaxed—she’d caught him putting himself between her and Hadley and any door or window to the outside—but he looked almost more at home out here than he did in Boston in his fancy suits.
Being out here with him was so…domestic. Well, domestic with a dash of sheer insanity since her half brother and ex were no doubt figuring out right around now that she wasn’t in her apartment. She’d called Benji on the way out here, so at least he wasn’t going to worry about her.
That didn’t stop her from worrying about everyone back in Boston, though. She hadn’t meant to make friends and start to care about people. Her plan wasn’t to be a pillar on her own, exactly, but she’d known that there was a decent chance Boston wasn’t her final destination, so she’d tried to keep some distance between herself and the people around her.
She washed Hadley’s back. Obviously, from the way both Benji and Mrs. Richards reacted, she’d failed miserably.
More than that, it hurt her to leave them behind. She hadn’t realized how much she’d enjoyed her time in Jameson’s until faced with the fact that she might never go back there. And Mrs. Richards was a saint put on this earth to keep her tethered to reality when her past got too close. What if she never saw them again?
She carefully poured a cup of water over her daughter’s head. It doesn’t matter. I’ll miss them, but Hadley is more important than anyone else. Keeping her out of Romanov hands isn’t negotiable.
And Sergei?
She dumped more baby bath wash into her hand and went to work on Hadley’s unruly mane of hair. If she thought for a second that Sergei had any interest at all in their daughter beyond trying to please Dmitri, maybe things would be different. She’d grown up with one parent who borderline hated her, and the other who was almost completely checked out. She knew how important parents—good parents—were. If Sergei actually loved their daughter, she wouldn’t hide Hadley from him.
But he didn’t.
At best, he saw her as a pawn to get Olivia back to his side. He didn’t understand that Olivia would never be his again, or that he’d burned that bridge all on his own without any help from anyone else. Dmitri and Andrei hadn’t ordered him to bring her to the house, but Sergei had known they wouldn’t be happy if she disappeared, so he’d taken it upon himself to deliver her there. He’d used her freedom to propel himself even higher within the ranks. Even over a year later, it made her sick to think about.
She washed Hadley quickly, and sat back on her heels and let her daughter splash around in the water. As foolish as it was, she couldn’t help comparing Sergei’s actions to Cillian’s. The latter stood to gain quite a bit once he knew who she was. Dmitri wanted her back, and he wanted her back badly. Delivering her to him would be a great way to foster goodwill between their families, and she didn’t see how Cillian wouldn’t benefit from that.
He still might.
No, he wouldn’t. She was sure of it—as sure as she could be of anything. He didn’t see her as a political piece to be moved around for his benefit—an asset to be leveraged. He saw her as a woman. It was a sad state of events that that was so novel, but there it was.
Or maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was so wrapped up in thinking the best of him that she was blinding herself to what was really going on.
But she didn’t think so.
She drained the tub and wrapped Hadley in one of the fluffy towels that hung next to the tub. “Your mama is a hot mess right now, baby girl.”
“Mama!”
It was quick work to put Hadley into a diaper and her sleeper pajamas. Bedtime was still a bit away, but right now comfort was the name of the game. Olivia changed into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. “Let’s see if this place has a TV, huh?” She propped her daughter on her hip and made her way back downstairs.