Page 47 of Forbidden Need

“You can’t be serious!”

“What’s the alternative?” That they walk away and possibly irreparably harm their relationships with her? “Send your people away. This is one meet. If McDade wanted to take us out, he’d have people do it in secret. This is not in secret.”

Her father didn’t respond well to orders. Lachlan was giving him the chance to save face and let it appear he’d made this choice himself.

As expected, her father took his time excusing his people and kept three of them with him. Of course. Again, he had to be the one calling the shots.

His posse piled into the cars, some looking more than a little relieved.

“What’s their job?” her brother asked, bobbing his chin down the street.

About twenty feet behind her, Daly and Hock stood just watching.

“Me,” she said on a smile. “Let’s get inside.”

As she approached the door, it opened from the inside. The internal hall may be wide, but it was dark, and it took a second for her eyes to adjust. As expected, a couple of guys stood at the bottom of the stairs to the office.

“They just follow you around?” Lachlan asked, closing in at her side.

“They do more than that if someone pisses me off,” she said. “Hate on Conn as much as you like, but he’s serious about my safety.”

“Was he serious about it when you were being attacked in the street? You want to tell me what went down with that?”

“No,” she said, entering the light, cavernous club. “And that’s still a raw nerve around here, so don’t bring it up.”

Like he had at his last meeting with Connel in the club.

A few people already loitered at tables by the large VIP booth that jutted out over the dance floor. Biggs. Snuff. Strat, of course, Ford, Jagg, and Imogen, who smiled and came over to hug her.

“You knew my daughter was coming?” Strat asked.

“Maybe,” she said, giving little away.

“Steeple wants a rundown,” Imogen said.

“This isn’t—”

“We’re off the record,” Imogen said and glanced at Lachlan. “I know this must be rough for you.”

“Which part?” he asked. “My kid sister screwing a mob boss or my ex-girlfriend with her new lover right in front of my face?”

“We only want—”

“I know, Immie,” he said on a sigh and took his time about looking around. “Where’s the man himself? Couldn’t be bothered to show up to his own meeting? Is that how much he cares about you, Ser?”

Daly and Hock had gone to join Biggs and Snuff. The four of them straightened up, garnering such a menacing air that she stepped in front of her brother.

“We’re here for a specific purpose,” she said, hoping to calm them all. “Everyone has to put aside their grievances for this to work. We’re on the same team.” Connel wouldn’t have put it quite that way. “Ire will be here as soon as he can.”

“He is not the only one with a schedule, with responsibilities,” her father said. “If he can’t put aside other engagements, why should the rest of us? I can only imagine what those engagements might be.”

“Is he around?” she asked, looking at Biggs. “Upstairs?”

“No.” She was loathed to ask the opposite. If he was downstairs… “He’s off-site.”

Thank God for that. She could call, but what good would that do? He’d been the one to convene the meeting. He knew the where and when.

“Good, we have time to get everyone a drink.”

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