His green eyes pinned her in place. “Lemme get this straight.” Every once in a while, his Irish brogue broke through.
She ignored the quivers in her abdomen from the deep accent. “All right.”
“Your plan is to financially cripple Bychkov by destroying all of his mines, and you needed my records to find the hidden ones, because you figured I’d be investigating anything having to do with the mining of planekite.”
“Yes.”
Daire didn’t react. “Why take Simone’s records?”
Felicity glanced down. “She’s on the Council, which is investigating the planekite mines, so I just emptied her file cabinet.” Her heart rate picked up. “You seem angrier about her files than yours.”
“Aye. My job is to protect her.”
“That’s not all,” Felicity said.
“No. Simone is my cousin, and I’ve taken care of her since she was a little girl.” Loyalty and fondness strengthened his voice.
That’s exactly what Felicity had feared. “I understand.”
“So, you’ve blown up his mines. Now what?”
She breathed out. “I have several corporations making moves on his business holdings, and I have groups devaluing any physical property he has around the world.” She’d also implemented a strategic securities attack to destroy his stock market portfolio, as well as the portfolios of his entire consortia group.
“Is that all?” Daire drawled.
No. But telling Daire about the upcoming three bank heists for all of Ivan’s cash seemed like oversharing. “Yes.”
“Then what, Cee Cee?” Daire unfolded his body.
Her breath hitched. “Then I finish him.”
Daire gave a short nod, the sides of his eyes crinkling in realization. No amusement. “Fight to the death, huh?” he murmured.
She cleared her throat and glanced at the clock again. Plenty of time. “That’s my plan.”
Daire followed her gaze, landed on the clock, and returned. “Have a hot date?”
“No, but very soon, I must be going.”
He chuckled then. The sound pulsated against her skin, licked down, and settled between her legs. “Do you really think you’re going anywhere?”
Her nipples peaked, even as her temper stretched cautiously awake. “Excuse me?”
He blinked, slowly. Like a predator, almost intrigued, yet with lazy indulgence. “You know, you’re at a disadvantage here.”
Her head snapped up. “Oh, am I?”
“Aye. I’ve seen the real you since day one. The fighter, the strategist, the woman.” He cocked his head to the side in a curiously dangerous movement. “You haven’t seen me.”
What the heck? “I don’t understand.”
“I agree.”
God save her from enforcers talking in riddles. “I’m pretty much a straight shooter and don’t really catch subtext, Dunne.”
“Ah.” He reached her in two long strides, lifting her by the elbows, turning, and dropping to the sofa with her legs bracketing his.
She slapped her hands against his very strong chest. Outrage filled her along with a heat she couldn’t banish. “What in the hell are you doing?”
“Whatever the hell I want to.” His hands clamped her hips and held tight. “Which is something that surprises you.”
“I’m not accustomed to being manhandled,” she breathed, trying to ignore the iron-hard thighs between hers.
His cheek creased. “I’d think not.” Slowly, deliberately, he ran one hand up her side, over her shoulder, and threaded his fingers through her hair. “But here’s the thing, sweetheart. I don’t give a shit who your family is, and they sure as hell don’t scare me. I don’t care who your parents were, your brother was, or your kids are. In fact, I not only don’t see you as a mom, I don’t see you as a demon.”