Page 42 of Dust to Dust

She argued that since all of our dancers were college coeds or girls seeking a better life, they needed a female to have their back. She also knew that most weren’t getting proper nutrition, and as a ridiculously good cook, she wanted to use her talents in that area.

Although it sounded like a win/win for both Caterina and my brothers, I still wasn’t completely sold on the idea. When I opened my mouth to voice that, Shane poked his head in the door. “Excuse me, Sir.”

“I believe I said I was not to be interrupted,” I blared.

“I know that, sir, but there’s someone here who is insisting on delivering something to you.”

When Dare palmed his gun, Caterina sucked in a harsh breath as her hand went to her abdomen. “Don’t worry. If it was a serious threat, Shane would’ve neutralized it,” I reassured her.

Although she appeared relieved, she continued rubbing her barely there baby bump. I turned my attention back to Shane. “Take the package and–”

“I’m sorry, sir, but she insists she deliver it herself.”

“Ooh, it’s a she,” Dare remarked.

“Then take the package from her and tell her to fuck off.”

The corners of Shane’s lips quirked. “She said if you tried to refuse her, I was to tell you her name.”

Caterina clapped her hands with glee. “Why didn’t you tell us you were seeing someone?”

“Because I’m not.”

“You’re lying,” she scoffed.

“I swear on the saints I’m not seeing anyone. Least of all some demanding woman bearing a package.”

Caterina’s gaze swept over to Shane. “What’s the woman’s name?”

“Isla,” he replied with a shit-eating grin.

Fuck me.

Of all the times she had to show up, it would have to be now. As I glared at Shane, I grumbled, “Fine. Send her in.”

I refused to look at Dare or Caterina who were practically on the edge of their seats. Regardless of what I said or did, I knew they were going to harass the hell out of me.

When the door swung open to reveal Isla, my cock jumped in my pants simultaneously as my heart raced in my chest. She stood in the doorway with a hesitant smile on her face. Although I’d seen her in nothing but a g-string, the red sweater dress and black knee-boots she was wearing seriously tempted me.

I gripped the arms of my chair to stop me from running to her side and dragging her into my arms.

Her gaze bounced cautiously around the room. “Oh, you really are in a meeting. I thought he was just shooting me a line, so I would go away.” She jerked a thumb at the door. “I’ll just come back.”

“No!” I bellowed a little more forcefully than I meant to. While Dare turned a laugh into a cough, Caterina ducked her head. Meanwhile, Isla shifted on her legs like she might bolt at any moment.

With a flick of my wrist, I beckoned her. “Please come in.”

As Isla hurried to my desk, she said, “Since I was off last night, I wanted to check on how you were doing. Some of the girls said you were back. I figured that meant you were doing better, but I really wanted to see for myself.”

Trying to keep the mask up in front of Dare and Caterina, I coldly replied, “I’m fine.”

I felt like the biggest bastard in the world when her smile faded with my tone. Staring down at the plastic container in her hands, she said, “Right. Well, um, since my dad was an Episcopal priest, my mom was always making this soup and bread to take to sick or healing parishioners. Because you’re Irish, I thought you might enjoy some.”

Before she could hand it to me, Dare asked, “What kind is it?”

“Irish Colcannon,” she half whispered.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise while Dare’s jaw unhinged. “Seriously?”

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