Page 5 of His Addiction
The elderly man patted his jacket, then slipped a shaky hand inside. He pulled the phone out and stared at the black screen with a frown.
“Where is he?”
“May I see your phone, sir?” Shannon extended her palm toward him.
Hesitation clouded his gaze. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the phone tighter, but eventually, with a reluctant, almost defeated sigh, he released it.
Shannon tapped the screen, but it stayed dark. She tried again, frowning. It didn’t take long to figure out he’d likely turned it off without even realising it.
After she squeezed the power button, the phone lit up, and Shannon unlocked it, her heart giving an odd, uneasy flutter as she scrolled through thecontacts.
She found the listing for ‘Jamie’ and tapped the number. The phone rang once before a deep voice answered.
“Dad! Where the hell are you?” The desperation in his question sent a chill down her spine, the harshness making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
Shannon’s pulse quickened, strangely stirred by the roughness of his voice.
“Oh, hi, he’s okay. I found your dad near The Fitz Hotel in Belfast. He’s a bit confused and looking for his son Jamie. I’m guessing that’s you?” She tapped her foot, her eyes darting around the street.
“Is he still near The Fitz Hotel?”
“Yeah, he’s down the street—” she started.
“Do not let him out of your sight. I’m coming to you right now.” The line disconnected, leaving Shannon with the phone still pressed to her ear.
She glanced at the elderly man, who was twiddling with his gold cufflinks. His eyes were brighter now as he cocked his head.
“Was that my son? Where is he?”
Shannon rubbed his arm, the soft fabric beneath her fingertips hinting at his wealth. “Yes, sir, he’s on his way. We should head closer to the Fitz Hotel.”
A sigh of relief escaped his lungs, and when his shoulders sagged, the tension drained from his features as they took a few steps. “Do you know my Jamie? He’d like you.”
Shannon shook her head, following his gaze.
Her breath caught as the revolving doors of the grandhotel spun open, and a suited man stepped out, scanning the area before locking eyes with them and heading straight their way.
Holy shit.
With dazed fascination, she gawked at the guy jogging her way. He wore tailored slate-coloured trousers that clung to his taut thighs with a perfection that made her throat dry.
His unbuttoned jacket flapped behind him in the breeze, as though even the wind couldn’t keep up with him.
A neat grey shirt, collar casually parted with a couple of buttons undone, clung to his broad chest. He didn’t wear a tie, and somehow that added to the air of confidence about him.
The closer he got, the louder the sound of his expensive leather shoes hitting the tarmac was.
When he finally stopped in front of the elderly man, he wrapped his arms around him in a way that seemed to carry a year’s worth of worry and relief.
“Jesus, Dad… You had me worried.” He sighed.
There was a definite family resemblance, but this man, this Jamie, appeared to be in his early thirties. He stood out like a neon sign in a blackout.
A day or two’s stubble dusted his strong jawline, giving him an untamed edge.
Shannon’s heart did a little flutter while her mind wandered to thoughts she knew she shouldn’t be having.
The image of his rough stubble against her innerthighs flickered for a moment, sending a shockwave through her.
