Kate Hoffmann - Conor

A wave of emotion washed over her. How had she grown so attached to this man in such a short time? They’d known each other less than seventy-two hours, yet she felt as if she’d already spent a lifetime with him. Circumstances had thrown them together, given them a common enemy and forced a trust that might have taken years to build, but in reality had taken no more than a day.

He had a beautiful body, lean and hard, smooth skin covering carved muscle. His broad shoulders and chest tapered to a flat belly and narrow hips. It had been so long since she’d been intimate with a man that Olivia had forgotten what the sight of the male form could do to her resolve.

Still, making love after such a short time wasn’t really her habit with men. But Conor was different. She trusted him with her life, why not trust him with her body? Though she’d only known him for a few days, that had been enough for her to see that he was a good man, an honorable man. And no matter what the future held for them, she was sure she’d never regret her choice.

But then again, she didn’t really have a choice. The first time Conor had touched her she’d been lost. What had happened between them was inevitable and so were the feelings that came with it. She tried to convince herself that she could separate sex from love-and maybe she could have with another man. But with Conor, her feelings were so intense, so undeniable, that she couldn’t tell where love began and sex left off.

For the next ten days, they’d live together in a world of their own making. And when it was time to go back to the real world, she’d have to deal with the consequences. Until then, she’d cherish every touch and every kiss.

Olivia drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly. The scent of coffee drifted through the chill morning air and she squinted in the low morning light to read her watch. “Six a.m.,” she murmured. Though she wanted to wake Conor with languid kisses and tempting caresses, to rediscover the passion they’d shared the night before, she knew he needed his rest.

She slowly rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb him. Piece by piece, she plucked her clothes off the floor and got dressed. She slipped out of the forward cabin and into the bathroom-or the “head” as Brendan had called it. After brushing her teeth with her fingers and raking her hands through her tangled hair, she ventured out to the main cabin, craving a hot cup of coffee.

Olivia expected to find Brendan up and about, but she walked into an entire cabinful of men. They all had gathered around the table, each of them with a steaming mug of coffee. Even Tommy was there, perched on a shelf and accepting small treats of table scraps. She paused, then smoothed her hands over her sweater. “Good morning,” she murmured, wondering if the events of last night were evident in her appearance.

Brendan pushed up from the table and smiled warmly. “Hey, Olivia. How’s the patient doing?”

She glanced back over her shoulder. “He’s still sleeping,” she replied. “I-I think he’s feeling…fine.” She felt a warm blush creep up her cheeks. He was better than just fine, she mused. He was incredibly gentle and intensely passionate. And after a night in bed with him, she felt exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

“I don’t think you know everyone here. You met Dylan a few nights ago.” He pointed to the youngest man at the table. “This is Liam. And across from him are Sean and Brian.”

Olivia frowned. All of Conor’s brothers resembled each other with their dark hair and their unusual hazel eyes. But Sean and Brian looked almost identical. “Twins?” she asked.

They nodded in unison. Olivia had been an only child but had always wondered about the bonds between siblings. They must care for Conor very much to leap to his aid so quickly. Somehow, she knew she’d come to no harm as long as the Quinn brothers were standing behind her.

“Come on,” Brendan said. “Have some coffee. Liam brought donuts and muffins. I hope you don’t mind- I fed your cat.”

Olivia found a place between the twins. Tommy watched her with wide eyes. She’d never considered her cat very sociable, but he seemed right at home among all these men. She noticed the empty tuna can on the table. Either Conor’s brothers had unusual tastes in breakfast food, or they’d been spoiling her cat rotten.

Brendan set a mug of coffee in front of her and she picked it up, grateful for the warmth. The brothers all stared at her, as if she were some kind of bizarre lab specimen and she shifted uneasily, not sure what to say.

“So, what do you do?” Dylan inquired. “I mean, when you and Conor aren’t dodging bullets?”

His teasing tone was so like Conor’s that Olivia immediately felt a level of comfort that she shouldn’t have felt among strangers. “I sell antiques. I have a small shop over on Charles Street.” She took a sip of her coffee. “That’s how this all started. My partner was laundering money for a mobster.”

“And how is it, living twenty-four seven with our Conor?” Sean asked.

“It’s nice,” Olivia said.

Brian chuckled. “Nice. Con?”

“He’s not bad. He takes good care of me. Sometimes he gets a little impatient, but that’s only because he’s concerned for my safety. And I-”

“What are you boys up to?”

They all turned to find Conor standing at the far end of the cabin. He’d managed to pull on a pair of jeans but hadn’t bothered with the top button. His hair was tousled and the bandage was stark white against his rib cage.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Olivia asked. She scrambled from her place at the table and crossed the cabin. Conor winced as she draped his arm over her shoulders and walked with him back to the table. He didn’t bother to sit and Olivia could see what it was costing him. It was as if he didn’t want to show any sign of weakness.

“So tell me what you have for me,” Conor said, glancing at each one of his brothers.

“Brian got you a car,” Dylan said. “It’s parked at the end of the dock. It’s wicked ugly, but it runs. I brought you some fresh clothes. They’re in the trunk.”

“Here,” Brendan said. “You can take my cell phone. I’m not sure if they can trace the calls on your phone, but it’s better to be safe for now.”

“We should stay here for a little while longer,” Olivia suggested. “You need to rest.”

“No,” Conor said, not bothering to look her way. “We’ll leave in a half hour.”

“But-”

Conor turned to look at her, his gaze unyielding. “This is not up for debate,” he said. “We’ll do it my way.”

Olivia bristled at the tone of his voice, so different from that of the night before, and she felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her cheeks. He turned and started back to the forward cabin. Olivia glanced around the table. “He should rest,” she murmured. “He was shot.”

Brendan shrugged, then sent her a sympathetic smile. “Con does things his own way.”

Olivia spun on her heel and followed after Conor. When she reached the forward cabin, she stepped inside and closed the door behind them. Conor stood beside the berth, trying to slip into his shirt.

“Why do we have to leave?” she asked, holding onto the shirt as he twisted into it. “We’re safe here. And you need to rest.” He refused to answer her, focused on his shoulder holster. “What is this?” she demanded. “Are you determined to kill yourself just to show your brothers what a tough guy you are?”

He glanced up at her. “Don’t think because of what happened last night I’m going to stop doing my job,” he murmured. “I’m paid to protect you and if that means we move, then we move.”

Stunned by his indifferent tone, Olivia wasn’t sure what to say. Had she imagined what they’d shared last night? Was she naive to believe that it changed things between them? With a soft curse, she grabbed her purse, her shoes and her jacket, then yanked open the cabin door. “Forgive me,” she muttered. “I didn’t realize that what happened last night was all part of the job.”