Page 56 of Irish Betrayal

A lifetime.

Ulf knew what loneliness felt like. How smothering it could be. He was proud of Rowan for taking a step on her own, away from her sisters and her husband’s ghost that he knew she had to feel each time she walked into her flat. Too bad she had to pick Muskogee for her first venture, where memories of Hugh probably swamped her still.

Regrettably, Daniel needed the family support, and Ulf needed to figure out what in the hell was driving Blair to ignore his very generous offers to work for him—and why she left Daniel.

His concerns were limitless. His mind was buzzing with a multitude of problems, what ifs, and variables.

His bed was comfortable, the pillow was soft, and still he couldn’t close his eyes, only managing a few hours before his phone jerked him awake.

When he saw Bran’s name, he sat up immediately and swung his legs over the side of the bed. If his brother was calling him from his vacation, then something was wrong. They texted each other daily, but calls were rare since Bran and Patrick knew he hated talking on the phone.

“Bran.”

“There’s been a fire at Three Wolves.”

“Christ. How bad?”

“It’s bad. Not for the distillery, but…” Bran sighed, and it sounded like something shattered—Raven’s calming voice—and then, “Dad’s memorial. It’s gone. Our lawn care and maintenance company, which has worked for us for years at different properties, hired a new kid. Cameras show the little shit smoking a blunt behind the building, and the leaves he should have been blowing away from the foundation smoldered for hours before eventually catching the wood on fire.”

“Rowan. Fuck.”

“Exactly. Rowan. You’ll need to bring her home, I’m afraid. She wouldn’t forgive any of us if we kept this from her. I asked her sisters not to tell her. You need to be the one.”

“What? Why?” Her sisters are exactly who she would need.

“Because you’re the one there with her, and she’ll need the physical support and someone to make arrangements to get her home. Pat and I are afraid that this…fuck, brother, we don’t want this to finish what Dad’s death didn’t.”

He was worried about Rowan being upset, but Ulf knew Rowan was too strong and cared too deeply about her family to let the burning of things take her down.

Ulf waited until seven that morning to approach Rowan’s house. He spoke with William and explained that they would be leaving the moment Rowan was packed. He wasn’t sure yet about Daniel. His father didn’t want him to come back, but Ulf knew the boy wouldn’t stay behind when the family needed him.

William had given Ulf the code to Rowan’s door in case she was still asleep.

He let himself in and immediately saw the shadow flames from the fireplace dancing around the dim living room.

Without thinking, he moved forward, assuming she was up and about. “Fuck me,” he whispered, practically swallowing his tongue. Rowan was up all right. She was talking on the phone, drinking a cup of the horrible tea she preferred, and…and wearing nothing but a sheer, white cotton t-shirt that barely reached her thighs.

The fire behind her illuminated everything. Her body was… He had to get a hold of himself. Now.

Stomping forward, he growled. “Get off the phone. We need to speak.”

Rowan gasped, her eyes wide and mouth rounded. She took two steps back, putting her closer to the flames, which only showcased more of her body.

Don’t look, you old fool.

“What the hell, Ulf?” Staring daggers his way, she ended her phone conversation. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll call again. Uncle Ulf is being a complete asswipe. Yes. Love you. Give Dagr my love.”

The minute the call ended, Rowan rounded on him like a professional cage fighter. The problem was, she either didn’t care, or hadn’t a clue that her nipples, seen clearly through the sheer white of her tee, were hard pebbles begging for attention.

“Bran called. A building at Three Wolves caught fire and took some damage. Not complete but bad enough.”

Rowan instantly sobered, any animosity she might have had at his interruption forgotten. “Oh no. Which one?”

Goddammit. “The memorial.”

twenty-four

DANIEL