letting Rogan know what happened. He wouldn’t be happy, but there wasn’t much he could do. Maran had every right to be here, and it was her job to serve him.
She didn’t know exactly where things were going with them, but she didn’t want to examine it too much. The last thing she wanted was to drive him away.
***
Rogan seethed. How dare Maran approach her. He had no concerns about Miller turning information on him. For one, she knew nothing. He intended to keep her as protected from the dark side of his life as possible. It might not work for other people, but this was the way it had to be between them.
At least, Miller knew exactly who he was. She hadn’t once pressured him about where he was going or what he was doing. She’d accepted there were things he couldn’t tell her.
Even if Miller did know anything, she would never turn on him. But, as far as Rogan was concerned, women and children were off-limits.
Maybe it was time to have a little chat with the detective.
A door opened and laughter drifted down the hall.
Miller was home. Immediately, he felt lighter. More at ease. He moved out of his study, towards that laughter.
Being together might put them both at risk, but he knew he was nothing without her. He would find a way to keep her safe without trampling on her sense of independence.
He had to.
“Boss.” Cillian nodded then made himself scarce.
“Hey, you.” Miller wrapped her arms around him. The easy way she gave affection wasn’t something he was used to.
But he sure wasn’t complaining.
“You look tired. Headache?” he asked.
She should be cutting her hours, but she claimed Sofia needed the help until she found someone else. He was close to stepping in and intervening.
“A little bit.”
“Have you had dinner?”
“Yeah, I ate at the restaurant.”
“Let’s go upstairs, then. I’ll give you a massage.”
“Ooh, that sounds perfect.”
He swung her up into his arms. She hit his shoulder lightly. “What are you doing, Rogan?”
“Sweeping you off your feet.”
“Putting your back out is more like it.”
“The day your slight weight is too much for me is the day I head to the old people’s home.”
He threw her down on the bed then slowly stripped, loving the way she watched his every movement, her gaze enthralled. He left his boxers on then moved over to her.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked, tugging at his shorts.
“Not yet. I promised you a massage first.”
“I’d be willing to forget about that.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been working hard. You deserve a bit of pampering.”
“And what about you? You work harder than anyone I know. You deserve some pampering, too.”
Him? He could look after himself.
But when was the last time someone had actually shown concern for him?
Miller sat up. “Here, why don’t you lie down?” She tugged his hand, pushing him until he sat. “I’ll go find some massage oil. Lie down on your stomach.”
She disappeared before he could argue. He watched on in bemusement as she moved back into the bedroom, oil in one hand and a towel in the other.
“Why aren’t you on your belly?” she asked, placing the oil on the bedside table.
“Maybe because I was supposed to be giving you a massage?” he asked dryly.
She made a shooing movement with her hands. “Lie down. Let me do this for you. You’ve done so much for me.”
“I’m going to say this for the last time, Miller. You owe me nothing.”
“Let me look after you, Rogan. You’re always looking after everyone around you. It’s time someone else took care of you.”
“Don’t pretend I’m someone good, Miller. I’m not.”
“You’re also not the devil in Versace.”
“Prada,” he told her.
“You don’t wear Prada.”
He rolled onto his stomach with a grin. She liked to see the good in him, but it wasn’t there. He didn’t spend his time looking after everyone around him.
Ridiculous.
He moaned with
She didn’t know exactly where things were going with them, but she didn’t want to examine it too much. The last thing she wanted was to drive him away.
***
Rogan seethed. How dare Maran approach her. He had no concerns about Miller turning information on him. For one, she knew nothing. He intended to keep her as protected from the dark side of his life as possible. It might not work for other people, but this was the way it had to be between them.
At least, Miller knew exactly who he was. She hadn’t once pressured him about where he was going or what he was doing. She’d accepted there were things he couldn’t tell her.
Even if Miller did know anything, she would never turn on him. But, as far as Rogan was concerned, women and children were off-limits.
Maybe it was time to have a little chat with the detective.
A door opened and laughter drifted down the hall.
Miller was home. Immediately, he felt lighter. More at ease. He moved out of his study, towards that laughter.
Being together might put them both at risk, but he knew he was nothing without her. He would find a way to keep her safe without trampling on her sense of independence.
He had to.
“Boss.” Cillian nodded then made himself scarce.
“Hey, you.” Miller wrapped her arms around him. The easy way she gave affection wasn’t something he was used to.
But he sure wasn’t complaining.
“You look tired. Headache?” he asked.
She should be cutting her hours, but she claimed Sofia needed the help until she found someone else. He was close to stepping in and intervening.
“A little bit.”
“Have you had dinner?”
“Yeah, I ate at the restaurant.”
“Let’s go upstairs, then. I’ll give you a massage.”
“Ooh, that sounds perfect.”
He swung her up into his arms. She hit his shoulder lightly. “What are you doing, Rogan?”
“Sweeping you off your feet.”
“Putting your back out is more like it.”
“The day your slight weight is too much for me is the day I head to the old people’s home.”
He threw her down on the bed then slowly stripped, loving the way she watched his every movement, her gaze enthralled. He left his boxers on then moved over to her.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked, tugging at his shorts.
“Not yet. I promised you a massage first.”
“I’d be willing to forget about that.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been working hard. You deserve a bit of pampering.”
“And what about you? You work harder than anyone I know. You deserve some pampering, too.”
Him? He could look after himself.
But when was the last time someone had actually shown concern for him?
Miller sat up. “Here, why don’t you lie down?” She tugged his hand, pushing him until he sat. “I’ll go find some massage oil. Lie down on your stomach.”
She disappeared before he could argue. He watched on in bemusement as she moved back into the bedroom, oil in one hand and a towel in the other.
“Why aren’t you on your belly?” she asked, placing the oil on the bedside table.
“Maybe because I was supposed to be giving you a massage?” he asked dryly.
She made a shooing movement with her hands. “Lie down. Let me do this for you. You’ve done so much for me.”
“I’m going to say this for the last time, Miller. You owe me nothing.”
“Let me look after you, Rogan. You’re always looking after everyone around you. It’s time someone else took care of you.”
“Don’t pretend I’m someone good, Miller. I’m not.”
“You’re also not the devil in Versace.”
“Prada,” he told her.
“You don’t wear Prada.”
He rolled onto his stomach with a grin. She liked to see the good in him, but it wasn’t there. He didn’t spend his time looking after everyone around him.
Ridiculous.
He moaned with
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