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Theraincontinuesforfive days straight, keeping the ferries out of service. Rian called again to tell us, after thirty hours, the mum gave birth to a healthy son. Darcy’s ma sent a picture of the da holding his beautiful wife and sleeping child.
I’m kicked in the gut, knowing I’ll never have that moment with a woman and my own wee one. I’ll never feel such joy.
Darcy and I are still alone with Sadie. Her clinic closed down, as did most of the local businesses. Massive flooding is plaguing the entire town. The only noise is the whooshing of the nonstop rain. Inside the house, the pelting against the windowpanes and the pounding on the roof above is now all white noise.
But the roof has lost its battle. Every night, Darcy worries the bottom floor will be flooded when we wake up. I go to sleep each night with one eye open, alert for any sounds from Sadie’s and Darcy’s rooms, focused on keeping them safe.
James’s old bedroom, the one I’ve been using, is now riddled with roof leaks. Pots, jars, milk cartons, and bowls line the floor. I have to sleep in Darcy’s bedroom tonight. Or crash on the floor in the attic, where Sadie sleeps. It’s warm and cozy. I have that in my favor.
We finish dinner, and I end up doing the dishes. Darcy comes back to the kitchen holding a blanket and wearing a nightgown made of very thin cotton. The light catches her, and I see everything. The look she gives me makes her so hard to resist.
“I’m gonna read Sadie a story.” She draws a breath. “I can sleep in the bed with her. You take my room.”
We stare at each other, and I’m not sure what she wants me to say. I know what I want. I want her in that bed with me. It’s like I don’t know myself at all. I’m lusting after my niece, who doesn’t seem to have an issue with the fact that she’s slept with a relative and looks like she wants me again.
It’s wrong on so many levels, but these past few days of her sexy smiles and stolen touches make me want her so damn much. More than I’ve ever wanted a woman in my life. It’s a battle of my conscience, and I know I’m going to lose.
There are already so many secrets we’re keeping from everyone. What’s one more? What’s one more fuck?
No one will know. No onecanknow. Can my heart take it, though? Lust storms through me, and it’s hard to hear anything over the pounding of my heart that’s ringing in my fucking ears. I’m not a saint. In fact, I’m quite the sinner, given my line of work. This should be right up my alley, taking what I want. That bullet I took left me with few choices for myself.
My inability to father a child, to make my own alliance through marriage, means I have to secure this arrangement with Kieran to protect my family against the upcoming chaos with the Russians.
Yet, here I am, ready to fuck the woman who will be his bride.
The image of Kieran taking her hand in a church, knowing what he’d do to her on their wedding night, and the fact that she might like it, makes me crazy with jealousy.
I finish the dishes and will away this damn hard-on. “Can I go with you to read her the story?”
“Sure, Sadie would love that.” She spins around, and her bare ass is visible through the nightgown.
I follow her up the stairs, salivating over taking that part of her, too.
Sick. Sick. Sick.
She wiggles the damn thing as it’s nearly in my face as we climb the narrow set of stairs that leads to the attic. Black, twisted wire with lightbulbs hang from the pitched roof. I would have loved a room like this if I were a kid. Sadie’s not afraid to be up here alone at all. She’s fearless, and I love that. I love…her.
Whoa… Where did that come from? She’s adorable and also my blood because she’s Darcy’s, so it’s normal to love this little girl. Right?
It’s the things I want to do to her mother that I’m fighting. The force that’s wearing on my damn soul.
The floor’s wood planks with scattered woven rugs creek under my feet. As I suspected, Sadie’s bed is small. Her mother would have to sleep on the floor. How would I feel, lounging comfortably in her bed while she’s up here on the floor?
I’m a playboy, not an inconsiderate arsehole.
“Uncle Ewan is gonna read with us,” Darcy says, sitting on the edge of the tiny bed.
“Okay, but don’t interrupt Mummy with questions,” Sadie sasses me.
I laugh. “What are you reading her?War and Peace? Why would I have questions?”
“James is a brat and likes to poke holes in the plot.” Darcy taps long nails with chipped polish on the glossy hardcover.
“What plot?” I take the book from her. “The Grumpy Monkey? Is this appropriate for her?”
“It’s for ages one and up.” Darcy smiles.
The scuffed cover says it’s aNew York Times Bestseller. “How many times have you read this?”
