Page 34 of Carnal Wagers

“Do you hear yourself?” Maeve asked. “What possible reason would you want to get more tangled in that mess?”

“I’m going to make him fall in love with me, then bring him to his knees and walk out of his life forever.”

“You think it’s that easy?” Erel asked.

“You don’t think a woman’s capable?”

“That is not what I—”

“You don’t think Tessa could destroy my brother if she wanted to?”

That shut him right up.

“I definitely could,” my sister-in-law quipped.

“Absolutely.” I patted the hand she had gripping my seat. “I want husband dearest to experience what we could’ve been before I tear his fucking heart out, stomp on it until it turns to mush, and feed it to the wolves.”

Erel faked shivers. “Tu fais peur.” You’re scaring me.

I gave him a feral grin. “I’ll be Cillian O’Leary’s worst nightmare and his number one dream in the same mind-blowing package. He won’t know what hit him.”

“But he’ll figure out who you are,” Tessa said gently. “Facial scans, fingerprints. It won’t take him long.”

“That’s where your brother comes in. That’s why I’ll go with you to visit him. He can get his people to create me a new identity, one that’ll pass the O’Leary’s scrutiny. And Franc can help make it go faster.”

“He won’t do it for free.”

I shrugged. “Then I’ll owe him. But I’m done waiting around for someone else to handle this.”

“Volunteering Franc is not in your purview,” Erel gibed.

“Ne m’emmerde pas, là.” Don’t fuck with me right now, I said, staring him down as he pulled the car up in front of our hotel.

“I guess you’ve got it all figured out,” Maeve said, her voice sounding abnormally subdued. That worried me.

A valet raced around to Erel’s door.

“Maeve, let me call you right back.”

I ended the call as the valet opened the door for Erel. Each of us exited the vehicle under a slight drizzle. Fenced, grassy courtyards decorated the hotel front, curving toward the marquee-covered entrance from both sides. Built in the iconic historic brownstone style, the building blended in well with the surrounding neighborhood despite its short height, giving a cozy feel from the outside, especially with wall lamps already lit between each window.

“Go on ahead and check in for me.” I handed my passport to Tessa.

“Don’t upset her,” Erel warned in French now that it was just the three of us.

“Worried it’ll affect your sex life?” His deadpan expression made me chuckle. “Okay, fine.”

I waved them off—Tessa’s arm hooking through his—then crossed the street toward a small park between lanes of traffic and redialed Maeve. One of the things I admired most about Boston was its rich palette of colors and smells at the end of summer. From the new blends of coffee and spiced drinks to the amalgam of rain, exhaust fumes, the fruity or woodsy fragrances, and the musty beginnings of rebirth, it always felt crisp, new, and refreshing.

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?” I asked in greeting when she picked up.

“Nothing, it’s just…”

“What?”

“I’m just worried about you. This isn’t a joke. Men like him…”

“You know I can hold my own.” I picked up and twirled a fallen magnolia seed pod.