Conall Read Free

the brothers to fight not only each other, but other kids in the neighborhood, teaching them how to be thieves and delinquents, and punishing them with fists and sticks, could never be mistaken for helping them.
    It had only resulted in the boys depending on themselves more than anyone else. Relying on each other for support and the strength to make it through another day. His brothers were the only men he trusted with his life. Sure, he had others who surrounded him on a daily basis, but when the shit really hit the fan, the only people he trusted were Kieran, Fionn and Shannon.
    The intercom buzzed on his desk and he walked over to answer it. “Yes, Margorie?”
    “Sir, you have a Ms. Tatiana Barbosa here to see you,” she said in a clipped tone. Which meant he wasn’t going to like what she said next. “She does not have an appointment, but says it’s imperative that she speak with you.”
    His first thought was whether or not she was some chick he had slept with. That couldn’t be it. Anyone he spent time with knew never to come and try to find him. Especially at his place of work. “Tatiana,” he said to himself, testing the name on his tongue. No, he would definitely have remembered a name like Tatiana. Sounded French. Intrigued, he spoke again. “What time is my next appointment?”
    “In thirty minutes, sir. It’s with the team handling the issue in Canada.” Oh yes, the former mistress of a high-ranking U.S. Senator had fled to Canada and was threatening to go public with the story. He had a team trying to defuse the situation and assess the validity of the threat.
    “Okay, send her in. I’ll go ahead and see what this is about.” Expecting to see a tall statuesque woman resembling one of his many dalliances—slim, porcelain skin, and long, flowing blonde hair—he was stunned when he saw the woman who glided into his office.
    “Ms. Barbosa?” he questioned after a moment of shocked silence. At her nod, he continued, “How can I help you?” Margorie shot the woman a hard look before closing his office as she exited to return to her work station.
    Conall stood behind his large mahogany desk taking her in as he waited for her to answer his question. He knew that he had never met her before. Oh no, he would have remembered this lovely vision standing in front of him. Statuesque she was not. Porcelain could never describe her skin. As he took in the dark brown curls resting atop her head, he smiled to himself. Her hair color was not even close to blonde. Even though she was the opposite of what he expected, he had an immediate reaction to the sexy woman standing in front of him.
    The light floral scent she wore tickled his senses. He wanted to dip his nose into the crook of her neck and shoulder and inhale her unique aroma. Lush curves were encased in a dark gray dress with a wide black belt cinched around her waist. Tall, knee-length black boots completed the picture. If he didn’t know any better, he would call them “Fuck-me Boots,” but he would keep that to himself for now. Her thick, curly, dark tresses gathered in a loose bun, with long tendrils escaping the professional, but carefree hairstyle. Her lips were perfectly shaped and she had a small beauty mark on the side of her face, situated just under her left eye, high on her cheekbone.
    Damn, she was sexy. Whoever the hell she was, he wanted her.
    “Mr. O’Shea. Thank you for allowing me to barge in like this.” Her husky voice flowed over him like honey when she spoke. Hazel eyes met his emerald ones and he wondered what he had done right in his life for this moment to be happening. And then she spoke again. “My brother came to me last night begging for help. Says he needs to be protected from the O’Shea brothers. Since you’re the only O’Shea brother that I could find, except for the Councilman, I came here.”
    Shocked by her words and her audacity, he forced his features to remain calm and did not react immediately to her