Page 13 of The Mech Who Loved Me
"Aye. Don't worry about fetching yourpistol."
Liam?Ava silently mouthed the word, looking at him for confirmation. He'd never mentioned a first name. He scowled back at her, then lifted his voice, "Want me to put thekettleon?"
"Oh, that'd be dear." Whoever she was, she sounded tired. Soft murmurs echoed. "There's a pot of soup in the icebox. Could you set that to heat too? Ian's ready forlunch."
"Aye." He moved around the place as though he knew it well, gathering a teapot and setting it on the stove, then locating theicebox.
"Liam?" she repeatedquietly.
Kincaid knelt in front of the heavy ceramic stove and stoked it. "Could we please pretend none of what you hear while you're in this house is going to make it to the ears of the rest of theRogues?"
"It's just... I've only ever known you as Kincaid." She frowned. "Doesn't anybody else knowyourname?"
"No. And I'd like to keep itthatway."
She folded her hands in her lap. "It's alovelyname—"
"Ava." Agrowl.
"I don't know why it bothers you so much, but I promise I won't reveal yourdirtylittlesecret."
"I've got dirtier ones thanthat,luv."
Heat thrilled through her. Ava swallowed. "I'llbet."
There was that look again. The one he often graced her with when he let his guard down, as if he forgot to remember he was supposed to stay away from her. Then it faded as rapid footsteps started down the stairs. "In fact, whatever you see or hear here, please don't repeat it. Toanyone."
Ava had never been the overtly curious sort. She respected people's rights to their secrets—after all, she had her fair share—but the way he was acting set off herinstincts.
Kincaid was hiding something, and that had to be the reason behind his tension on the way over here, and the stillness that lingered in his shoulders as he stirredthesoup.
"I'll keep your secrets," she said quietly, reaching over and resting her hand on his forearm—therealone.
Kincaid looked down at that touch, then their eyes met, and something passed there that she hadn't felt since that night they shared in the Gardens of Eden six weeks ago, when she'd almost kissed him. Lust was one thing—she knew she was attracted to him. But there'd been something between them that night, a gentle sort of tenderness in his words and his touch, and now she was the one offering thattohim.
He looked away. "You make hating blue bloods hard, did youknowthat?"
"Don't tell me I'm corrupting you toourside?"
There was a swish of skirts, and a breathless gasp as a young woman emerged from the stairwell. "Well, don't you look grand? Give us a look atyou,Liam!"
"Orla." His expression and tone brightened, and he crossed to drag the small redhead into his arms, planting a kiss on her cheek. "It hasn't beenthatlong."
"Twoweeks."
"I've been busy," he protested, and the two of them shared a look that made Ava feel a littleuncomfortable.
Whoever she was, this woman knew Kincaid in a way shedidn't.
"Busy with what?" the woman demanded, and those gray eyes narrowedonAva.
"Orla, this is my friend and associate, Miss Ava McLaren. Come on over here. Orla won't bite." When Ava complied, he tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Ava, luv, this is my cousin, OrlaKincaid."
Cousin.She didn't know why that word eased the uncomfortable feeling within her. "Apleasure."
Orla turned back to Kincaid and arched a brow accusingly. "A blue blood? You've got to bekiddingme."
Was it painted across herforehead?
