Irish Charmer

  Brooklyn Kings, Book 6

  L.K. Shaw

  Irish Charmer, Brooklyn Kings Book 6

  © 2022 by LK Shaw

  Cover design © 2021 by PopKitty Designs

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  All Rights Reserved.

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  No part of this book, with the exception of brief quotations for book reviews or critical articles, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue One

  Epilogue Two

  Book List

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Lucia

  * * *

  Wealthy and powerful people—dangerous people—surround me, yet I don’t have a use for any of them. Give me dirt and the treasures found buried beneath it. I’m counting the minutes until I can leave the pretentiousness of this wedding reception behind and embark on the opportunity of a lifetime.

  And get away from him.

  I glance at my best friend beside me. My heart aches. She’s the one person I love more than anybody—the only person on the planet I’m going to miss when I leave. Her expression is full of so much misery. Because one day soon, she’ll be forced into a marriage based on wealth and power instead of love. Especially if my brother—her father—has anything to do with it.

  “If you need to get away for a bit, then you should go,” I murmur to Aurora under my breath. “If I come across Edoardo or Alessandro, I’ll tell them I haven’t seen you.”

  She’s only eight years younger than me. I’ve always looked out for her though. Or at least tried to. She turns my way. “I don’t want to leave you alone. Who knows when we’ll get to see each other again?”

  I grab her hand and squeeze it. “You know you can come visit any time.”

  She stares at me with sorrow-filled eyes. My guess is she hears the lie in my voice. Neither Edoardo nor Alessandro will ever allow it. I clear my throat. “Go. Find somewhere inside where you can enjoy a moment’s freedom. I’ve heard there’s a room upstairs filled with antiques ready for you to explore.”

  Aurora hesitates briefly, casting me an uncertain look. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. You may never get the chance again,” I encourage her.

  She swallows and nods. Her gaze travels around the crowd of people, no doubt searching for her father and the man he plans on selling her to, and then Aurora darts behind the gazebo. It’s the perfect temporary hiding spot until she can sneak inside the manor house. I say a quick prayer that she manages to escape.

  I take in the wedding guests. They’re all members, in one way or another, of the Ricci family, including me. The most powerful syndicate on the East Coast. A few auburn- and russet-colored heads intermingle with the Italians, relatives of the Irish wife my distant cousin, Emilio, married.

  I won’t miss any of this when I’m gone. The incessant need half these people have to hobnob and stay on the good side of the head of the organization. The constant suggestions that because I’m a woman, I should get married and be the perfect little housewife who tends to my husband’s needs. A husband the male members of my family pick out, because they’re the ones who would get something out of the marriage, not me.

  Needing a drink, I head to the main party tent where the newly wed couple sways intimately in the middle of the dance floor. Despite my feelings about wedded bliss—or lack thereof—I’m happy for Giovanni and Francesca. They’re one of the rare couples within the organization who are actually in love. I had that once.

  “Vodka tonic with lime, please,” I tell the bartender, and then turn toward the crowd while I wait.

  “Excuse me, but I was hoping I could persuade you to join me on the dance floor?” A baby-faced young man with a charming grin, steps in front of me.

  Regardless of how cute he is, he can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen. Not even legal drinking age. “Thank you, but I’m going to have to decline.”

  “Is it because I’m Irish?” He palms his chest as though I’ve wounded him, but his grin only broadens. “It is, isn’t it? It certainly can’t be because I’m not nearly good-looking enough. Or did my brother already try to warn you away from that dashing younger brother of his? That’s me, by the way. The dashing younger brother.”

  I can’t help myself. I laugh and shake my head. “I’ve never spoken to your brother, so I’m sure it’s not that.”

  “You’re lucky, then. He’s truly obnoxious. Has zero knowledge when it comes to knowing what women want.”

  My lips press together to try and stop more laughter from emerging while I reach for the glass the bartender passes to me. “I suppose you know what a woman wants, then?”

  He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m too smart to answer that loaded question. What I do know, though, is that whatever she wants, all she has to do is tell me, and I’ll move heaven and earth to get it for her.”

  “Oh, really?” I cock my hip and quirk my lips. “Let’s say that I want a diamond necklace?”

  I admit to being curious about his answer. He studies me a few moments, his gaze traveling leisurely over me in a way that, despite my best intentions, generates a fevered heat deep inside. There’s definitely nothing too young about the way his eyes seem to take me in.

  “You wouldn’t ask me for a diamond necklace,” he finally says matter-of-factly.

  It takes a moment for his words to register. I’m still recovering from his hot gaze. “What makes you say that?”

  “We’re at the wedding of the most powerful and wealthy family in Brooklyn. The women here are draped in diamonds and rubies and any other number of precious gems. Yet you’re not wearing any jewels at all,” he declares. “You have a simple, tarnished gold locket around your neck. To me, that means it’s important to you. More important than some meaningless piece of diamond jewelry.”

  I can’t hold back my surprise, and I study him a bit closer. Yep, definitely too young. Damn it. “That’s quite the observation.”

  His mouth tips up on one side. “I have two older brothers who tend to act before they think. They need someone to be the voice of reason and look at things from all angles and points of view. I’ve learned to look deeper than what’s just on the surface.”

  I’m surprisingly intrigued by him. I take a sip of my vodka while I try to formulate my reply. “How insightful of you.”

  “I may look like a kid, but I assure you, I’m much more mature than you think.”

  My eyes scan him. He certainly has my attention. What are you doing? “Are you even old enough to drink?”

  He studies me the way I did him. “What does drinking have to do with dancing?”

  “Nothing, but I think you’re a bit too young for me.”

  “It’s just a dance, Lucia.” He cocks his head.

  Once again, he’s surprised me. “How do you know my name?”

  “I asked. That’s usually what you do when you see someone who intrigues you, is it not?”

  I’m not sure if it’s myself or him I’m more annoyed with because, damn it, he’s good, and I don’t want him to be. I’m actually flattered by his interest. “You certainly know how to charm a woman, don’t you? Although it’s entirely unfair that you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

  He takes two steps forward until his chest nearly brushes against mine. Then, he leans in close. His hot breath ghosts along my sensitive skin. I shiver. “It’s Nathan,” he whispers into my ear.

  I swear his lips touch my flesh, but it’s so fleeting, I can’t be certain. Beneath my dress, my nipples harden. When was the last time a man affected me this way?

  Nathan gently plucks the glass from my hand and places it on a nearby table. Then he reaches for me and leads me out to the dance floor. Words of protest clog my throat as I follow silently.

  We reach the middle of the parquet square, and he draws me into his arms. All my senses light up. I lay my hand on his shoulder and the fabric of his suit prickles my palm. I inhale the almost peppery, citrus scent of his cologne. I’m not usually a fan of men who wear fragrance, but somehow, this smell suits Nathan.

  I close my eyes to absorb the way his muscles flex and contract beneath my fingertips. The skin heats beneath my dress along the swell of my ass where his hand rests with far too much famil
iarity for someone I just met. I should probably discourage his boldness, but I find his confidence sexy. Despite Nathan’s youthfulness, he seems to be a man who knows what he wants.

  You’re moving halfway across the world in a couple days. Relax and enjoy yourself. As if giving myself permission is all it takes, I close the last bit of distance between our bodies. I rest my cheek on his shoulder and nestle my nose in the crease of his neck, inhaling more of his addictive scent. We move together with ease, almost perfectly in sync. His lips caress the side of my neck, teasing and tempting me. He’s hard to resist.

  Time ceases to exist inside this little bubble I’ve created. It’s only Nathan and me. Briefly, I entertain the idea of a last-minute fling before I leave, but hooking up with a barely-legal young man is probably not the smartest decision to make. Especially when he belongs to the same type of organization I’m desperately trying to distance myself from. Instead, I’m just going to enjoy the dance. Until a feminine throat clears.

  I raise my head. A pink-cheeked Aurora stands there, her gaze bouncing between me and Nathan. I smile before turning back to him. “Thank you for the dance, love, but my gorgeous best friend here has decided to cut in.”

  He barely casts a glance in her direction. His gaze, far more heated than it had been before our dance began, sears into me. The seductive grin he gives me makes my heart race.

  “It was entirely my pleasure,” Nathan says in a low-throated purr as he slowly releases his hold. His hand glides along my waist and down my hip like he’s reluctant to stop touching me. He takes a step away. Then another. His eyes never leave mine until he winks, and then, at last, turns his back and walks away. I watch him go and let out a sigh that’s joined by Aurora’s.

  I swivel toward her with a wide-eyed stare and drag her off the dance floor toward the back of the tent. “Holy shit. Is it just me or did it get twenty degrees hotter just a minute ago?”

  “He definitely seemed into you.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head. “He’s probably ten years younger than me, and I’m leaving the country in two days. I don’t have time for some fling. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here.”

  “That’s why I came to find you, actually. Papa is ready to go. I have to say goodbye.” Tears well in Aurora’s eyes.

  “Damn it, don’t start. You’re going to make me cry and we both know how red and splotchy my face gets when that happens,” I choke out, my voice gravelly with those same stupid, unshed tears.

  “I know, but I’m going to miss you. Why do you have to move so far away?” she whines, fanning her face to dry her eyes. I open my mouth, but Aurora stops me. “I know. I know. Because you have an amazing opportunity to do what you love.”

  “You can always come visit me. Any time,” I tell her.

  “I’ll try.”

  We pull each other into a hug that doesn’t last nearly long enough. Aurora is the first to let go.

  “I love you,” I say fiercely, cradling her cheeks. “Whatever happens, I’m only a phone call away.”

  She nods, then walks out from under the tent to where Edoardo waits. I stand there for another minute with a giant hole in my heart. Finally, I shake off the maudlin thoughts. With Aurora gone, there’s no more reason for me to stay. I cast a last glance around, foolishly searching for Nathan. He’s nowhere to be found. Which is just as well.

  I finger the locket around my neck. Before I can do something stupid, I make my way through the crowded garden, the manor house, and then out the front door. I don’t have time for a man far too young for me. England and my new amazing career await.

  Chapter 2

  Lucia

  Three years later

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  I’m ready to go home. Being back in Brooklyn these last few weeks has made me miss England that much more. I needed to be here, though, for Aurora—Rory—who is finally free and in love. She’s safe and happy, which is all I’ve ever wanted for her. We’ve spent our last days together shopping for furniture for her new apartment and hanging out before we have to say good-bye again.

  Although, it’s much easier leaving this time than it was after Gio and Francesca’s wedding. Because this time, she has Jack. He would never try to keep us apart. Not like Alessandro had.

  She rises from the couch to answer the knock at the door. I stare at her and Jack as they whisper greetings to each other. He kisses her on the forehead, and I ignore the small flare of envy. After living in hell these past three years, she’s finally found someone who loves her, who’ll protect her, and take care of her.

  A second figure appears in my periphery. My gaze drifts in that direction, and I freeze. What is he doing here?

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Jack says. “Nathan tagged along for the ride. He offered to take Lucia to the airport if she’s all right with that.”

  An unforgettable bright blue gaze penetrates mine and a grin tugs at his lips. “We meet again.”

  I can sense Rory’s and Jack’s attention on me, but I still can’t move. Nathan has certainly changed since I last saw him. All youthfulness has disappeared from his face, to be replaced with a rugged, square jaw line, sharp cheekbones, and shoulders that have filled out with an impressive amount of muscles.

  “I didn’t realize you knew each other,” Jack says snapping me out of my haze.

  “We don’t,” I say quickly.

  Nathan raises a mocking brow, but doesn’t argue. “My mistake, then. I thought for sure you were someone I’d met before.”

  “We haven’t.” My voice is firm. Insistent.

  “Well, I’m happy to drive you to the airport, anyway.” Amusement colors his tone. Then, without another word, he turns, picks up my luggage, and walks out the door.

  My cheeks heat and I clench my fists, unable to shift my gaze from where he disappeared until Rory steps in front of me, blocking my view. Her expression is concerned.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  I smile tightly. “Fine.”

  “Lucy?”

  Forcing my lips to loosen, I try for a more reassuring tone. “It’s fine. I’ll text you when I land at Heathrow. Be good, and remember what I told you.”

  Rory throws her arms around me. “I’m going to call you every single day. You’ll be sick of me in a week’s time.”

  “As if that could ever happen. I love you.” My voice is a little gravelly.

  “Love you more.”

  I step back and face Jack. “Treat her right. She deserves it more than anyone.”

  He nods. “Absolutely.”

  My gaze darts toward Rory’s one more time. There are tears in both our eyes, and before I allow mine to spill over, I quickly turn, throw on my coat, and close the door softly behind me. My body sags against it while I battle my emotions. Then I remember the man who waits for me at the bottom of the stairs.

  Slowly, I make my way down. I’m not ready to face Nathan and this wholly inconvenient, and inappropriate, attraction. Thank god I’m leaving the country—and temptation—again. Sooner than I’d like, he comes into view. Against my will, I study him more closely. He’s far too good looking for his own good. For my own good. I finger the locket I never take off, as though reminding myself why I resisted his charm three years ago and why I have to resist it again.

  “Nathan,” I greet him with a reluctant nod.

  “So you do remember me?”

  I sigh. “Can we at least do this in the car? I have a plane to catch.”

  He tips his head and holds up both arms, a suitcase dangling from each hand. “Of course. If you don’t mind getting the door, though, please.”