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“It was horrible, Padraig. I was so afraid, every day I was afraid it would be my last. But the sex and some of what was most painful…I, um…” She bit her lip and closed her eyes.
“You were turned on. Is that it?”
Her eyes popped open hearing him nail the truth. “Yes. I know that sounds awful, but I couldn’t help it.”
“An’, you think I doan know that, lass?”
Her face reflected back her befuddlement. “What? You know about my kinky fetish? How could you, Padraig?”
“I’m not the naïve choir boy you think I am, Shelby Ryan.”
“No?” Her heart started beating very fast. Her hands began to sweat. She stared at him not knowing how to answer, and he not saying more. What did he really know? What had he guessed, or was it something else…? Then suddenly little things, like pieces of conversations flashed through her mind. Padraig in Vienna, Clive mentioning his name, sex since she was rescued having a harder edge than normal, and that odd feeling she’d been battling back for the last couple days. “Padraig, how did you get the money to fly to Vienna?”
He looked at her surprised. “Why would you ask that?”
“I want to know. I want to know the truth.”
“You so sure about that?”
“Yes, I’m very sure.”
“Your Mr. Darcy gave me the money.”
“Clive? Clive Darcy gave you the money? You know him?”
He nodded. “Indeed.”
She felt a sudden lurching in her belly, something awful grinding there, almost like she was about to vomit.
“You’ve known all along, haven’t you? He sent you to me, isn’t that right?”
He didn’t answer but he didn’t object. He just kept holding her in his gaze.
“And you knew this was going to happen? You knew where he was sending me. You knew and you didn’t stop the man!” She suddenly stood up, hugging herself with her arms, tears running down her cheeks. She wanted to run away, as far away as she could get from everyone who knew her.
Padraig stood up too. “No, I did NOT know. I did not know what he was up to. I swear I didn’t, Shelby. You ‘ave to believe me.” He moved forward and grabbed her by the arms to hold her shaking body steady.
“No! No!” She shook her head. “Take your hands off me!” She threw her arms out and pushed him off, then backed up to the bedroom door. “Get out of here! Now! Out! I want you out! I never want to see you again!”
“No, lass, you can’t do this. You hafta let me explain.”
“No, I don’t have to do anything. I don’t have to listen to you! I cut my ties with Clive and I can cut them with you too. Now get out.”
She slipped through the bedroom door and slammed it behind her before he could say another word.
She’d seen the fury in his eyes, and knew that in the quiet seconds that followed that he was holding back his Irish temper. Would he come after her? The tension mounted as she waited sitting on the edge of the bed wondering what came next.
A moment later, the front door slammed and he was gone.
A day later, there was a message from Padraig on her cell phone.
“Listen to your answering machine. I’m guessing there’s something you haven’t heard. You owe it to me, Shelby. You owe it to us.”
Since she’d returned, it hadn’t even occurred to her to look at her answering machine. The blinking light had been covered by a newspaper so she hadn’t even seen it. Strangely enough, it had crossed her mind that she could now get rid of the land line since her ties with Clive were cut. He didn’t trust cell phones, part of an intelligence agent’s paranoia, and he never left her important instructions on one. She’d kept the old relic of a phone to please him.
When she got Padraig’s message, her anger was still just a hurtful memory away. And though she pull
ed the newspaper off the blinking light to the recording device, she didn’t punch the button to hear what he had to say. She didn’t want to hear his voice, the Irish brogue, the tenderness, or the stern way he could sometimes rebuke her. At one time she found his rebukes an act of love. But she didn’t want any of that now. She didn’t want the lying bastard in her life anymore than she wanted Clive Darcy making her dance on puppet strings.
