Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy #2)

“But not tonight. Tonight is for fun only. Nothing else.” As though punctuating her slightly slurred words, she pulls the tie that has kept her hair in a low ponytail all day and shakes out her red mane. “I let my hair down. Now it’s your turn.”

The proprietor looks thankful when we step out of the shop, because he’s on the verge of closing. The sun has gone down, and Irish pub music spills out into the streets.

Keira leans into me. “So?”

I’m not clear on how tipsy she is, but she’s missing an important piece of the puzzle. “I can’t let my hair down.” I shove a hand through it. “It’s not long enough.”

“Then you have to do something else.”

“What?” Again, the corners of my mouth tug upward.

“That.” She points to my face. “Smile. You hardly ever smile. You always look so . . . stern.”

When she makes an attempt to mimic my normal expression, a laugh breaks free from my throat.

“Yes!” Her face lights up in satisfaction.

“Is that all you want from me?”

She shakes her head as we reach the door to another pub. “No. Tonight, let’s pretend you’re not Mount and I’m not your payment on a debt. Let’s just be Lachlan and Keira. Can we do that?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her she’s a hell of a lot more than that, but I hold it back. Instead, I make a request of my own.

“On one condition.”

We step into the bar, and the musician onstage has the entire place packed.

“What?” Keira has to yell over the crowd for me to hear her, so I wrap both arms around her waist and lift her off her feet so my mouth is level with her ear.

“Say my name again.”

“Come on, lads and lasses. Let’s get ta dancin’,” the man onstage cries out, urging people toward the dance floor.

Keira bites her lip, and the craving to kiss her hits me hard again. She places both hands on my shoulders and leans in.

My breath stops for an instant, expecting her lips to hit mine, but they bypass my mouth for my ear.

“Dance with me, Lachlan. Dance with me in Dublin.”





Mount





Keira passes out in my arms almost as soon as the car door closes and Padraig drives us back to the hotel.

I’ve gambled and won fortunes time and again, amassed money until it no longer has any meaning except for the power it allows me to wield. I’ve built a goddamned empire. But none of those things can give me what I want right now.

“Dance with me, Lachlan.”

Her request was ludicrous. I don’t dance, but in that pub, with the Irishman and his guitar encouraging everyone to join in, I gave her what she wanted.

For one night, I’ve gotten the chance to be someone else. Anyone but me. And that man was able to sweep this woman off her feet, literally and figuratively.

Keira sighs, curling into my body.

It’s too bad she probably won’t remember any of it.

Or maybe it’s better that way. Unlike me, she won’t spend the rest of her life wishing for another night like this.





Keira





When I wake, my head pounds like an entire troop of Irish step dancers is using it as a stage for a performance. I roll over in bed, naked but for the sheet and down comforter covering me, and no memory of how I got there or managed to get my clothes off.

I glance at the clock to find it’s almost one in the afternoon.

“Shit.” I’ve missed all the morning panels. They weren’t nearly as important as the ones earlier in the week, probably because so many people duck out before the last day, but still. This is my first conference, and I planned to make the most of it.

I sit up in bed and haul the covers off. A note flutters to the floor as though it was lying next to me. When I reach down to grab it, everything I’ve consumed in the last day feels like it’s about to come up.

I’m officially too old for whatever the hell happened last night.

I’ve never been the type to get blackout drunk because my tolerance is higher than most people’s, and yet my memories from last night are fractured, at best.

I remember the distillery. Guinness. Eating. Wandering Temple Bar and hitting a few pubs. But beyond that, it gets grainy.

When my stomach steadies, I reach down for the note.



There’s hot coffee in the living room. Drugs on the nightstand for your head.

Drink some water. Shower and call down for food.

Your stylists arrive at five.





There’s no signature, but I recognize the bold scrawl.

The last part confuses me. Stylists?

Then I remember the last evening of the conference is tonight—the gala and the award ceremony for the whiskey-and-spirit-tasting contest that’s been going on all week. I haven’t thought much about it since Seven Sinners didn’t enter because I wasn’t planning to come.

The way I feel right now, I’m not sure I’ll feel human by then, but I stand and find my balance. I can hear his authoritative tone ordering me to comply with the rest of his instructions, and even though it’s second nature to rebel, I don’t intend to.

My stomach has other plans, however, and I bolt for the bathroom.

Ugh.

After I finish heaving up my guts, I rinse my mouth, brush my teeth, and drink some water so I can take the ibuprofen on the nightstand. Coffee is too much for me right now. When my stomach stops flopping, I head for the shower.

Food can come later, because it sounds like a horrible plan right now.

After spending what feels like a year under the hot spray, I force myself to turn off the water and step out.

“Here.”

I screech as Lachlan holds out a fluffy white bath sheet.

Lachlan? When the hell did he become Lachlan?

I grab the towel and wrap it around my body, feeling more naked than ever before, regardless of the fact that he’s already seen everything I have to offer.

“Did you order food?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. I called down for room service.”

Still reeling from the massive shift in my head, I don’t ask what he ordered. “What happened last night?”

I expect to see an arrogant grin cross his face, or perhaps a forbidding scowl, but he remains expressionless.

“You had a little more to drink than either of us realized.”

I tug the towel tighter, tucking the tail between my breasts before meeting his gaze. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Does it matter if you don’t remember?”

I pinch my lips together, wanting to demand details, but I already know he won’t give them to me. “I think you’re more stubborn than I am, you know?”

That gets a reaction out of him. A single quirk of one corner of his mouth. “By a slim margin.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything?”

A knock sounds on the outer door of the suite and he turns, ignoring my question.

“I’ll get the door. You’re going to eat.”





Mount





For the last two hours, I’ve been booted from our room while the stylists I hired to do Keira’s hair and makeup work their magic. I saw to it that she ate, slept some more, and was ready and appeared relatively human when they arrived.

I’m in the hotel bar when I get a call from J on my secure line.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“What?” I reach for my wallet, tossing some cash on the bar before making my way to one of the soundproof booths available for calls.