The next day when we arrive at the gates of the Donaghey family complex, there's a chill in the air. Snow covers sections of the ground, but there are patches of grass. Before we get in the door, we're frisked within an inch of our lives. The first time it happened years ago, it was invasive, dirty. Not anymore.

They find every single one of my hidden weapons. I'll have to be more creative with the places I put them.

Their mansion is a sprawling bungalow masterpiece out in the suburbs. It's going to take me days to search the whole complex for evidence. The file I read gave me some details, but being here is cementing a new reality. At one time, the estate was isolated. The city has grown up around it. There's still a massive stretch of land in the backyard that looks like an empty farmer's field except for a shed in the far corner.

When the front door swings back, Lorcan isn't there. Instead, it's a man who is a little shorter than Lorcan but broad, muscular. His hair is so blond the strands are almost white and his eyes, when they connect with mine, are a piercing blue, so pale they make me think of ice chips. Finn.

"Carys." His tone is dry. "We have an arms dealer. Shame you came all this way."

"Lorcan didn't tell you we were coming?" She feigns surprise, but she avoids making eye contact.

He shifts his focus, flicking his gaze up and down my body. "Who's this?"

Unlike his brother, he has no accent, not Irish, not Bostonian. He could have been raised in Pittsburgh given the inflection in his voice.

"Kim." She turns to me. "This is Finn."

"Kim," Finn says. "Are you the P.A?"

"Sometimes." I keep my voice even. "I do whatever needs to be done."

He raises his pale eyebrows, gaze sharpening. "Whatever needs to be done? I like the sound of that. Assuming you actually mean it. Most don't."

"For me, she does." Carys tugs her purse higher onto her shoulder. "Lorcan's expecting us."

Finn steps back and makes a sweeping gesture with his hand. "If Lorcan is expecting you, I'll let you figure out where he is." He nods to a large man who is standing off to the side of the foyer. The front entranceway is long and wide, with high ceilings. The sun filters in from a skylight which brightens the dark décor. "Follow them. Don't let them touch anything."

Her voice is steel when she says, "A pleasure, as always, Finn."

Finn's laugh floats down the hall as he walks away.

"He's such a dick." Carys glances at the guard who reminds me of a former football player.

"Do you know where Lorcan is?" I ask.

"I do." His voice is a deep rumble.

"Kim." I thrust out my hand. "And you are?"

"Antonio." He grasps my hand in his large one, and his brown eyes meet mine.

"Can you take us? I'm guessing Finn's power play is to make us stumble around blind."

Antonio chuckles. "I'll take you. Makes my job easier anyway." He uses a radio to get someone else at the front door and then leads the way down the wide, tall hallway.

Finn went to the left before an oversize doorway which looks as though it leads to a kitchen, and we go right. Have they divided the house in half? Because of the layout, the space appears older than it is. Unlike modern homes, there isn't a whiff of an open concept.

We go down three or four doors before Antonio stops and presses an intercom button beside the heavy wooden door. Everything in the house is dark, rich, and expensive. Claustrophobia comes to mind.

"Yes?" Lorcan's voice comes out of the speaker fuzzy.

"Your ten o'clock is here."

The door releases with a buzz. Antonio opens it, and Carys doesn't seem surprised by the security measures. Given Lorcan's father died in a home invasion, I suppose the extra security is warranted.

When we enter the room, I'm struck by the difference in the décor. While the rest of the house is closed in, this room is much bigger than it seems from the outside and the light gray walls are welcoming. There's another skylight, and sunlight brightens the office, especially after the dark, narrow corridor.

Lorcan sits behind a large mahogany desk, but off to the side is a workout space. A small wooden conference table separates the two areas. He rises, and his jeans and T-shirt are in direct contrast to the formality of last night. The surrounding aura is still there. Calm. Confident. A touch of danger floats around the edges of him, but it's subdued in this room, as though being in his home softens his sharp corners.

"Carys." Her name rolls off his tongue.

Something inside my chest strains at the sound. Startled, I raise my eyes to meet his.

"Kim." His accent makes my name sound far more attractive than it ever has before.

Whatever his game plan is today, the charm is spilling out of him. I'm not sure if it's the accent, the more casual outfit, or being in his home, but I take an involuntary step toward him. A spark of desire almost catches before I snuff it out.

"Laying it on a little thick this morning, aren't we?" Her voice holds a hint of mocking.

He chuckles and comes around his desk to adjust the two leather chairs across from him. "Some ladies like the accent." Lorcan grins.

"Yes, well, I'm aware you're capable of speaking without it." Carys gestures for me to take one of the two chairs as he moves back to his own seat behind the desk.

"You're right." He smooths out his voice, any trace of an accent is gone, as he says, "You have to play to your audience." His attention strays to me. "Dressed as a princess last night and a yoga instructor today?"

I give him a half smile. "I don't like being restrained. This is pretty typical for me." Yoga pants and a flexible, lightweight shirt are my go-to articles of clothing. Carys mocks me for my lack of originality and makes any excuse to dress me up like a Barbie doll. Most of the time, I don't mind since she enjoys it so much.

"And last night?"

"Was for a good cause." I meet his gaze and stifle my smirk. Catching his interest was worth the pain of a pink dress.

"You're hoping for a deal?" He focuses on Carys. "I'm not sure I'm in the market for one."

"Finn assured us at the door he has a dealer."

"We do," Lorcan agrees with a grimace. Easing deeper into his chair, he steeples his fingers. "You understand the seriousness of what's going on in this house?"

"I do." Her face softens. "You're not going to war with each other. Finn's an asshole, but he's still your brother."

"There are things you can't possibly know. People change. Finn's mother and mine will be rolling in their graves." The hint of a lilting accent is back which makes me want to lean in, to hear more. Despite what she said, I think the accent might be real.

Carys isn't a mother, but sometimes, around some people, she gives off a motherly vibe. Like the hip sway, she doesn't let that side of her come out very often. Her connection to Lorcan and Finn runs much deeper than I realized.

"Can I help?" she asks.

Lorcan's stares at me before turning to Carys. "Possibly," he says. "I don't want an arms deal, at least not yet. I wanted Finn to understand I'm serious—my threats aren't idle—which is why I invited you here."

She shifts in her chair. "I used to babysit the two of you when our parents were in meetings. I know how close you and Finn are."

I try to keep my face blank as I listen to their exchange. Inside, my blood boils. I hate when the information I get from the bureau is wrong. The war on terror snags the best intelligence people, and those of us on the ground in other assignments get the leftovers. How many other details in the files aren't quite right?

"I'm starting to accept we're very different," Lorcan says. "I don't want to get into it with you, Carys. You'll end up in the middle."

"So, if you don't need arms from me right now, what's this meeting about? Are you simply sending a message to Finn? He answered the door."

Lorcan gives a sly smile. "I knew he would." He picks up a pen and taps on the desk.

I lean back in my chair waiting for whatever is coming next. Somehow, I need to find a way to ingratiate myself to him or today is going to be a waste. How do I get back here if he's not doing business with Carys?

When I look up, he's gazing at me, his expression serious. "I want you to come work for me."

Carys sits up straighter in her chair. "You can't be serious."

He holds up a hand toward her. "I know what you said last night, and I've been thinking about it. All I've been doing is thinking about it."

Her lips pucker in annoyance. "Would you mind waiting outside? I have a feeling this conversation is about to go south."

"Are you sure?" My brain ticks through how I can make it clear I want to work for Lorcan without raising suspicion. Why would I leave her and her organization? In this business, she's a great employer, and it's taken me almost a year to get to a point of trust and mutual respect with her. Very pointedly, I give Lorcan the once over as though I don't trust him, hoping my distrust might make Carys keep me in the room.

"I'll be fine." She waves a hand while gathering her purse closer to her chest.

I nod and open the door, slipping out into the hall. Propping the door open would be ideal, but he would notice. He can see the door from behind his desk. Outside, Antonio is standing guard.

"Slow day?" I take in his linebacker build. Carys has big men like this. Except for Jay, I have no use for any of them.

"Most of them are." He shrugs and tucks his phone into his pocket. "You guys finishing up in there."

"No idea," I admit as I count doors in my head, trying to set mental reminders about door codes and locations.

"You really do anything Carys wants?"

"Yep." I suppress a sigh. This line of questioning is familiar. We're at the point where he asks me questions and doesn't believe my answers.

"Ever killed someone?"

I avoid looking down at my hands and instead tuck them into the pockets of my black leather jacket. The blood isn't the stuff I've shed. "Of course."

"Huh." He mulls over my answer. "For money, status, retribution?"

My laugh sounds hollow to my ears. "All of those."

"More than one?" Antonio's eyebrows shoot up. His brown eyes are almost black when his gaze skims over me, appraising. "You got the build for it. Strong looking, but not too muscly. You got that icy cold attitude."

"Too muscly?" I give him a mild glance. "That's a thing?"

"I don't like my women to have more muscles than me."

My mouth twists in amusement. "I didn't realize this was an interview for a date. To be clear, I'm not interested."

"You don't like men? I wondered about you and Carys."

I shake my head, and for the first time, stare into his eyes. "I like men fine. As long as they aren't telling me who I am or what I can be, we get along." Guys like Antonio are a dime a dozen. They can't imagine their mere association with power isn't an instant aphrodisiac. It doesn't work that way, at least not for me.

The door behind us opens and she signals for me to come in. She's not happy. Hope starts to surface in my chest. Has she given in?

As we cross the room to the desk, she snatches her purse from a chair. "I'm going to leave you with him to make his pitch. It's your choice. I'd never presume to tell you what to do. If you decide to work with him, you'll always be welcome to come back to me."

I raise my eyebrows, feigning shock. "You want me to listen to what he has to say?"

"I do."

Glancing at Lorcan, I narrow my eyes. "Is he pressuring you? I don't want to stay if he's making you do this." My insides are tap dancing, but I cover it over with suspicion.

"It's not like that. Listen to him. You and I will chat once you're done here." She strolls out of the room, her shoulders full of tension. Whatever went on in here, Carys isn't comfortable with some aspect. I focus on Lorcan as the door shuts behind her.

"Well," I say. "What's the offer?"