Page 3 of Lawless Rivals

She steps back, fingertips brushing her mouth. “Well, Ciarán, I came up here to grab five minutes alone. Not to entertain.”

I fish out a cigarette from the pack, needing the distraction, the ritual. The flint in my lighter flares, reflecting in the windowpane while it sets the tobacco on fire.

“We had the same idea. I came up here to get away from disapproving eyes.” I take a slow drag, the smoke drifting between us, as thin as the lie. “You won’t tell on me for having a smoke, will ya, princess?”

Keira tilts her head, eyes narrowing. “No, but the smoke detectors might give you away.” Her gaze cuts to the exits. “Was that kiss part of your plan, too?”

I take another long drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs and leave through my nostrils before I answer. “That was the fastest way to put down a begging mutt.”

She huffs a cute laugh, half disbelief, half amused. “Is that what you think he is?”

“That’s what I think guys like him turn into when they realize they’ve fucked up.”

She studies me through the smoke haze. “And what are you then? One of the few good guys?”

I flick ash into a vase and ignore her question. “You can do better than a prick called Lucien.”

The smile that follows is so damn genuine and unrehearsed that it lights something warm and stupid behind my ribs.

For a second, we just stand still, me with a cigarette hanging from my lips, her with that pretty smile of hers.

The evening feels too charged for what I’m here to do.

Then Rafe’s voice snaps in my ear. “Does anyone have eyes on her, for fuck’s sake?”

The world jerks back into focus. I stub out the cigarette, the ember hissing.

“Guess I should head back downstairs before the sprinklers start,” I say, forcing an easy tone while my pulse thrums under Rafe’s impatience.

Keira tilts her head, a smaller smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe I’ll see you down there?”

“Or,” I say, stepping closer, “we skip dinner and take a walk to the stables instead. A place like this must have a heated barn. I’ll have a smoke, and ya can steal five minutes to yourself, without the loneliness.”

I rake a hand through my hair, lazy, like I’m thinking about her instead of what comes next.

“Unless you’d rather sit through five courses pretending to enjoy the food while all those people stare at ya.”

She arches a brow, amusement flickering despite herself. “And why should I go anywhere with you? How do I know you don’t want something? Everyone I meet always wants something from me.”

“Well,” I say, a half-smile catching, “maybe that’s the problem. You keep saying yes to the wrong people.”

Her laugh is soft, reluctant. “You’ve got a strange way of giving advice.”

“I don’t hand it out often.”

“Then I’m flattered.” She looks at me for a heartbeat too long, then nods. “Fine. I’ll go for a walk with you if you give me a cigarette.”

“A good girl like you smokes?”

“How do you know I’m a good girl, Ciarán?”

I hold out a hand, meaning it to be polite, nothing more. But when her soft fingers link with my callused ones, warmth sparks through my chest like a match struck in the dark.

“I’m guessing you’re Fionn’s sister, right?” I start walking to the door. “The one who lived in Paris…with Lucien, the cheating dickhead.”

She smirks. “Ah, right. You know my brother. That must be why you look so familiar. I feel like we’ve met before.”

We step out onto the mezzanine and make our way downstairs, hand in hand. The hallway’s quieter now, the guests all seated in the ballroom at the far end.