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“While you were unconscious.”
“It’s the only explanation. I’ve worn it every day since graduating. When I woke up in the hospital, it was gone, and none of the hospital staff remembered seeing it or me having it. I thought it was lost forever until the police called.”
Was he lying? Oliver didn’t seem like the type. On the other hand, her brother lied all the time. She’d never questioned Kyle about the watch. His girlfriends often gifted him expensive jewelry. An F. P. Journe wasn’t out of the ordinary. Because he’d never taken it off, she hadn’t seen the engraving.
“When did the police call you?”
“Six months ago. December fifteenth.”
The day Kyle had dropped off Netta and disappeared.
Would the threat of an arrest for stealing have made him leave his daughter and flee? She’d like to think not, but with Kyle, one never knew.
Her brother stole the watch of a man he’d almost killed. He probably thought he had killed him.
Handing the watch back to him, she watched his large hand close over the luxury piece. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Oliver shrugged, the move dismissive.
“Tell me what happened that night, Oliver. I need to hear it from you. Not from Kyle.”
He hesitated, as though even the memory of it still hurt. Just as she thought he’d never answer, he cleared his throat.
“I was jogging through a park—blowing off some steam before teaching my first class at Trinity College the next morning. I had to get from one side of the road to the other—and I used the crosswalk. His car came out of nowhere. I don’t remember a lot. But I remember the alcohol on his breath.”
“Kyle hadn’t been sober?”
“No. And I’m sure he paid off the investigator.”
Addy closed her eyes, but it didn’t help the pain stabbing deep through her stomach, or keep the tears at bay. “I’m sorry.” But the words weren’t enough.
She swiped at her cheeks. Time to return to her room, to process how Kyle had become someone she barely recognized.
But Oliver’s gaze locked on her lips, practically gluing her in place. Oh no. No more kissing. They’d established that.
With a steadying breath, she took a hasty step back.
Oliver didn’t follow, just stood there. The shadows didn’t hide the broad chest, tapered waist, his cock stiffening as her eyes traveled down.
She dragged her gaze away from his dick. “I should… um… let you get back to sleep.”
He didn’t argue. “Yarrow?”
“Yes?”
“Next time I find you in my room, I’m tying you to my damn bed and not letting you go until we’ve both worked each other out of our systems.”
She wished that had sounded more like a threat and less like a promise.
Chapter 15
He trailed her to the abbey.
She stood just inside the thick, low walls, red hair spilling over her bright-yellow dress—so at odds with the dark clouds gathering behind her.
Her back was to him, rigid and straight, as she studied the forest beyond. The wind lifted her hair, and he caught the scent of her perfume on the breeze.
Six feet separated him from her, then three… two…
