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“With your same name?”
“Someone gave you my name. It happens. Criminals rarely use their own name, Miss—”
“Wood,” Suzanne snapped. “Suzanne Wood. And I’ll be pressing charges.”
“Suze—”
“Isabella, we’re leaving.”
“Look, Miss Wood,” Rex said. “I’d hardly have kept my business going here in Padraig for over a decade if I made a habit of aiding and abetting molesters of women.”
“I have no idea whether your business would have flourished here. So far, I’m hardly impressed with Padraig. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Suze,” Isabella said. “Isn’t it possible that Mr. Donnelly’s telling the truth? It could have been someone else.”
Rex cleared his throat. “When did this alleged crime take place?”
“Last night, as you well know, outside Café Oxter.”
“Then there’s no problem. I was at home last night. My sister will vouch for me. We share a flat.”
“Suzanne,” Isabella said, “I know how much you’re hurting right now. But can you at least accept the possibility that you’re mistaken? I mean, Mr. Donnelly here owns a shop devoted completely to white magic and the healing arts.”
Suzanne scoffed. “I am so damn sick of you and your magic! It’s all a bunch of lunacy and you know it. I’m going to find a cop. Or a Scotland Yard guy. Or whatever the hell you people have around here that passes for law enforcement.” She headed for the exit in a huff, Isabella and Rex on her heels.
“Allow me,” Rex said. A bell jingled as he opened the door, and the sunlight cast a ray on his forearm.
“Mr. Donnelly—” Isabella began.
“It’s Rex,” he said. “And don’t worry about it. I may be questioned, but nothing will come of it. My sister knows where I was last night, and she’s a pillar of Padraig.” He reached toward Suzanne.
She seethed. Jagged anger rose from her belly to her throat. “Don’t you touch me!”
“I’m sorry,” Rex said. “It’s just a speck of lint.” He brushed her arm lightly, letting his touch linger on her forearm for a moment.
Suzanne inhaled, and her anger dissipated in a glow of pink haze that radiated through her body. Her pulse slowed, and she began to relax. Perhaps she was mistaken after all. He seemed like a perfectly nice man. “Look, Mr. Donnelly—”
“Rex.”
“Yes, Rex. I may have overreacted. Maybe I’ve misjudged you. You don’t seem—”
“It’s quite all right, Miss Wood. You’ve clearly been through an ordeal. Would you like me to call a constable for you?”
“No, no. I’m fine, really. I would rather forget it all, to tell you the truth.”
“Suze, you know you should report it,” Isabella said.
“Yes, yes. And I will.” Suzanne inhaled deeply, wondering how she ever could have mistaken this nice shop owner for the accessory to her near rape. “Please accept my apology.”
“No apology is necessary,” Rex said. “I hope to see you lasses again soon.”
“Of course,” Isabella said. “This is a wonderful shop. I’m sure I’ll be in often for supplies.”
Isabella linked arms with Suzanne as they walked back to the car. “Are you ready to report this?”
“Not yet,” Suzanne said. “I want to go back to the castle. There’s someone I need to see.”
“Who?”
Suzanne imagined strong arms holding her, protecting her, helping her forget the evil in Padraig.
“Damian,” she said softly.
10
Rex closed the shop, headed downstairs to his basement flat, and stopped in the kitchen for an ice pack to soothe his burning arm. Damn sun. His nostrils flared as he pounded on the door to the far bedroom and kicked it in. He roused the sleeping figure on the bed. “Get your ass up, Markus. You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”
His sister’s voice came from the doorway. “What on earth has gotten into you, Rex?”
“Stay out of this, Viveca. Your good-for-nothing son damn near outed us last night!”
Markus sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then yowled in pain.
Viveca ran to his bedside. “Markus, darling! What happened to you?”
Markus cleared his throat and raked his fingers through his tangled blond hair. “Had a bit of a run-in.”
“I gift wrapped that American lass for you,” Rex said through clenched teeth. “A nice pretty girl, and I handed her to you on a platter, all because I promised my dear sister I’d make sure you fed. Was it too much to ask for you to keep your end of the bargain?”
“Please, Rex, he’s hurt.” Viveca smoothed her son’s hair.
“Poppycock. He’ll be healed by nightfall, and you know it.” Then, to Markus, “Care to explain why the little lady left with her memories intact?”
Markus groaned. “Sorry Unc. We were waylaid a bit.”
“So you and those other two moron cronies of yours couldn’t handle one woman?”
“Well, she was tall.”
Rex raised his fist, but Viveca stopped him. “Rex, he’s already been beaten.”
Rex exhaled sharply “This is no joke, Markus.”
“Aye, Uncle, I know. Sorry and all that.”
“I swear, Viveca, if he wasn’t your son…” Rex paced around the room. “Listen to me. You and the others need to lie low until this blows over. I managed to soften her up with a little mind control, but it’s too late to completely erase her memory. It’s already gone into long term. If she recognizes you—”
