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Nic was perfect for me, darkness and all. It wasn’t because he was drop-dead gorgeous. It wasn’t his beautiful house or his fat bank account. It wasn’t even because he was an amazing father to the most adorable girl in the world—well, maybe it was partially because of Sophia and how he was with her. He was perfect simply because he loved me as much as I loved him.
I’d finally found the man of my dreams and now I was in the hands of his enemy. I fought the tears in my eyes, filled with a determination to stay strong until Nic found me. I refused to believe I might die or think this might be the end. I wanted the future Nic had promised me, my belly full of his child and both his rings on my finger. Thinking of Nic’s reaction to my puke-fest this morning, or whichever morning since I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out of it, I thought about what it could mean. Chuckling softly, I un-fisted my hands and cupped my stomach. My laughter died at the sound of a door opening and closing.
“I’m no’ sure what ya have ta laugh about.”
His voice got closer, signaling he was moving in my direction. I forced my hands to clench again, refusing to give him any more ammunition against Nic or me. It was bad enough he’d taken me hostage, I could only imagine what he’d do if he knew there was a chance I was pregnant with Nic’s baby. He didn’t need any additional leverage.
The hood was lifted from my head and my eyes instinctively squeezed shut. There wasn’t a lot of light streaming through the filthy window I saw over O’Reilly’s shoulder, but it was enough to send shards of pain into my head.
“Open yer eyes, girlie. We need ta have a wee chat.”
I blinked them open at the bite of command in his tone. It wouldn’t do to piss the nasty man off any more than he already was.
“Ah, dat’s better now,” O’Reilly murmured, towering over me. “Me name’s Pat O’Reilly.” I stared up at the man, surprised at what I saw. If I was on my feet, he’d only have a few inches on me, but he was barrel-chested. His red hair was streaked with gray at the temples and his face was wrinkled with age. If this man was Carly’s father, then he must have either lived a very hard life or had her when he was much older than most parents. Or both.
“I can see why DeLuca wanted ya for himself, lass. Ya have the face o’ an angel, eyes like emeralds, and enough curves to keep yer man warm at night.”
I gulped at the hint of masculine approval in his eyes, shrinking away from him when he reached out to touch me. With my hands tied, there was no way to avoid him and I found myself lifted and placed on a chair in the corner of the room.
“There ya go.” Once he had me settled, he rolled another chair a few inches from where I sat and dropped onto it. He rested his elbows on his knees while he considered me. His eyes were somehow both cunning and dead at the same time. His stare sent goosebumps racing up my arms, but they were nothing like the ones I felt whenever Nic was near. This man made me feel fear, and I began to wonder if I really was going to make it out of this alive.
“How long have ya been with himself?”
“About a month.” I forced my answer past a dry throat and stiff lips.
He nodded, as though he knew the answer already and was pleased I hadn’t tried to lie to him. Then he reached a hand into his pocket, and I stiffened in terror. When he pulled a small bottle of water out, the breath I’d been holding heaved out on a deep sigh. He cracked it open and held it to my lips, but I hesitated to take a sip, even though I was thirstier than I ever had been before.
“I don’t have ta trick ya with drugged water,” he said, bumping my lips with the bottle and tilting it up until I opened my mouth and drank from it greedily.
“There now,” he murmured, pulling the empty bottle away and dropping it onto the floor. “I’m happy ta know you’re willin’ ta see reason since I have some questions for ya.”
He seemed to be waiting for an answer, so I nodded warily.
“How much do ya know about yer man’s business?”
“Nothing.” I didn’t think about my response before I blurted it out, something I quickly came to regret.
“Ack, then, it's a shame I have ta rough ya up a bit ta prove me point. Sorry, me girl. This is goin’ ta hurt.”
