Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“I’m not seventeen anymore, Maeve. It might be a little while,” he laughed.
“I’ll wait,” she cooed.
He laughed and stood up, pulling on just his boxer shorts and t-shirt. “You’re a very naughty girl, Maeve.”
“Complaining?”
“Not a chance. Let’s make some dinner. It looks like I’m going to need my strength later on.”
“You sure are,” she smirked, climbing out of the bed, and tossing on nothing but her panties before walking out of the room toward the kitchen.
A meal and several glasses of wine later, they made their way back to the bedroom. This time, there was nothing sweet or slow about it. They were like a pair of wild animals, slamming together in a heated carnal dance that ended with a symphony of ecstasy as they shattered against one another once again.
She was just about to drift off to sleep beside him when his mobile rang. He leaned over the edge of the bed, fishing it out of his discarded pants, and answered.
“What’s up?” he said.
Maeve couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end. She heard him groan loudly and say, “What? You’re fucking kidding me.”
She watched as he climbed out of bed and stormed out of the room. She lay there for a moment, unsure of what she should do, and then climbed out of bed too, throwing her t-shirt on over her head and slipping her panties back on before following him.
He stood in the middle of the kitchen floor with the phone idle in his hand. She’d never seen him so angry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ronan
“When were you going to tell me about Martin Cobain?” Ronan asked.
Maeve stopped dead still just outside the doorway of the bedroom. She looked stricken.
“I d-don’t know,” she stammered.
“How do you think I feel finding out that the woman I’ve helped get her clan back in order, the woman I’ve brought to America with me, the woman I thought—” he cut the thought off there and took a deep breath. “What was your plan here, Maeve?”
“I don’t have a plan,” she protested.
“Oh? So, you didn’t stalk me and fuck me just to get closer to my family? You didn’t plan to continue to avenge your warmongering lover’s death?”
“No. I, uh, yes. I mean, I started out that way. I was angry, hurt. I wanted your family to hurt like mine did, but then I saw that I had it all wrong. I saw that you weren’t the monster I thought you were.”
“How long have you known?” he demanded.
“Known? Known what? What are you talking about?” she gasped, shrinking back from him as he took a step toward her.
“Don’t be coy with me, Maeve. I know that Martin is alive and that you are gathering what information you can to help him take us down.”
The look of shock on her face was undeniable. He could tell that she didn’t know, but that didn’t change what she had been doing. It only meant that she now had even more reason to destroy him and his family.
“He’s alive?” she finally breathed, looking wildly around her but seeming to fix on nothing.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t understand. How?”
“He escaped through the tunnels beneath the dungeon.”
“No. That’s impossible,” she panted.
“Why? Because he didn’t come out behind you when you went through into the forest?”
The expression on her face was once again that of surprise, but only because she wondered how he knew. He had no intention of letting up.
“Who told you all this?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about who told me. My family doesn’t get to where we are without having eyes and ears wherever we need them. I know that you were in the dungeon and he sent you out just before the dragons came, but then he slipped out behind you. He just went in a different direction. Why is that Maeve?”
“I-I don’t know,” she stammered.
“Right you don’t,” he roared, turning away from her for a moment to collect himself.
How could he have been so stupid? How could he have missed that she was conning him? What was the end game? He wanted to force her to tell him, but he knew he didn’t have the stomach for hurting her like he would someone else who put him in this position.
“You need to pack your things and get out before I do something I don’t want to do,” he said through clenched teeth, turning back to her as he spoke.
“Ronan, no. Please let me explain.”
“I don’t need you to tell me more lies, Maeve. I need you to get out of this house before I hurt you. Don’t make me hurt you.”
Tears rolled down her face, but she didn’t say anything else. Instead, she went back into the bedroom and closed the door. She emerged a few minutes later, dressed and rolling her suitcase toward the door. She didn’t attempt to speak to him; whether it was out of shame or fear that she might provoke him, he couldn’t be sure. Both options hurt.