Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

M iranda

When I wake up, I'm alone. I smell him on the pillow and burrow my face in it—I'm so fucked. I hate him so fucking much. He's crawled inside where I thought I was going to be safe. Maybe if he had kicked down the door, I could have held strong, but he did it before I even knew it was done.

He was sneaky, telling me not to talk down on myself. Making me food to eat. Kicking out his psycho cat because it scratched me. Taking care of the scratch down on his knees. His honesty even when I hoped I was wrong—when I wanted him to lie to me. I needed him to lie so I could call him a liar and use it to keep my heart from him. Instead, he told me the truth.

I begged him to tell me that one day I wouldn't feel like he was more important than the air my lungs needed to breathe. Instead, he told me he didn't know because he'd never felt this way. Then he wrapped his arms around me and held me like he never wanted to let me go. The strong pounding of his heart beneath my ear was all I heard, all I felt. I wanted to melt into him until there was no skin separating us.

From that first night, I was in trouble. I should have run when I saw those men on my porch. Run and never looked back… Because now I don't want him to let me go. Even if he doesn't touch me, there will always be a before Declan and an after him.

A glance at the clock tells me it's almost eleven. Oh my god. How is that possible?

I'm up and moving slow. God, I hate this time of the month. While I'm aware there are women out there who have it worse, I loathe it. For the first three days, the cramping and blood always make me nauseous until I only want to curl into a ball and not move—even with the over-the-counter pain stuff. When Aoife saw how bad I was, after she gave me the off-the-shelf stuff, she said fuck that and gave me something stronger.

At first, I told her no. She rolled her eyes, promising me that I wouldn't get hooked on them because she wouldn't allow me to. Declan didn't touch drugs. They weren't opioids—she had them from her doctor for her arthritis. I looked them up while she rolled her eyes and saw she was right.

She'd had me break it apart, for then and when I went to bed. Once I took it, I was almost in tears at the pain relief.

I want to blame the nightmare that brought Declan into my room on the pain pill, but it wasn't why. It was from how badly I wanted to give in. What's embarrassing is if I weren't on my period—I would. The way Declan told me again and again, he didn't care if I was. He didn't find it gross. Michael had taken to sleeping in another room while I was on my period, it bothered him so much .

Downstairs, I find only Colm in the kitchen eating a sandwich. He jumps up. "I?—"

"Please quit acting like I'm Medusa and you're terrified to meet my eyes. I won't tell Declan you looked my way. You're really giving me a complex." I complain as I begin making coffee.

"Yes, ma'am." I roll my eyes. At least he's saying something to me. "Aoife isn't in to cook today. It's a Sunday and her off day. She made quiche last night like she promised. And there are a few meals she pre-made in the freezer. Or you can call something in. Declan said you weren't to work today. He has things to see to and will be home for dinner. He'll call my phone and ask you what you want before he leaves the pub."

I roll my eyes again. "I'll work?—"

"Ma'am, please don't. He said if you were to work, then he'd be restraining you when he got home and giving your behind a firm spanking. I'll be forced to carry you up to your room and lock you in the way he told me. Please don't make me. On account of he also told me that I wasn't to touch you or he'd kill me. He might be my cousin, and there's love between us. But I don't recognize him when it comes to you, so I'm trying not to die today." He's completely serious.

"Oh, for fucks sake, fine. I'll eat and then go up to my room. This is the stupidest fucking…" And he's left the room. Whatever.

It's almost seven before there's a knock on my door. "Ma'am. It's Declan calling for you."

"Tell him that I want him to fuck off and leave me alone," I shout, angry at everyone.

Colm is quiet for a minute. "Ma'am, please don't make me say that. "

"Go away, asshole."

"Dec, I'm not trying to open the door." Is all I hear whispered from the other side of the door.

I'm just glad he's not because I forgot to lock it.

Another minute goes by before he goes back downstairs. The second I'm sure he won't hear, I get up and lock the door. Then I lay back down in bed and try to go back to sleep.

The next time I open my eyes, Declan is in my room. Sitting in the chair in the corner watching me.

"Feeling better?"

"How the hell did you get in here?—"

He sighs. "I brought you your favorite order from the Chinese place you order from often enough, around the same week of the month that I figured it was something you let yourself have around now to get through it. Aoife told me she left you a pain pill in the kitchen. Perhaps you should have those before you continue screeching at me."

"Screeching?" I screech at him, refusing to consider him caring enough to look through my bank statements and make the connection. Because it's creepy as fuck that he's going through my bank statements—not sweet. Except it is kind of sweet, and I don't want to think of him as sweet.

Another sigh.

"I want to go home." His face turns to stone. Before he can tell me no, I stand firm. "I need to go home. There's stuff at home that makes me feel better. She got the wrong tampons. They didn't have the pure cotton I wanted. I want to go home. "

Air comes out of him slowly. "After you've eaten and taken half the pain pill."

Rolling my eyes, I get out of bed. Except I can't stand up straight. All I want to do is curl back up into a ball.

"Fucking hell." He mutters. I blink, and he's got me up in his arms.

Putting me back on the bed. A hand goes to my forehead. "You'll stay here. I'll be right back with the pain pill and the food."

"I hate you."

Eyes a stormy ocean, he nods. "I know." The words are soft. "Don't move." Is a command I don't even consider going against and allow my head to fall back onto my pillow.

He brings me the pepper steak with a side of white rice, the way I love. Then sets the pill on the bedside table. "Take a few bites of food before you take the pill."

I want to argue, but my mouth is watering from the smell, and I don't bother. After a few bites, I use the sparkling water to take the pill.

It's unnerving the way Declan doesn't say a word, simply watches me.

I'm finally feeling human and capable of dealing with Declan. "What?"

That eyebrow. "How do you have so much time off banked? Why aren't you using it monthly? I couldn't imagine dealing with commuting, let alone being able to focus on numbers, if this is what you have to deal with every month."

I shrug. "It's not a big deal. You just have to keep going. It's what a woman has to go through. So you just do it. "

"That's not normal. You need to see a doctor."

"Shows what you know. I did see a doctor about it. She suggested I go on birth control to help. I was on it for about six months. It helped a little, I mean, it made a difference, but I also gained weight and got a little depressed. In the end, it wasn't worth it for me."

"A little depressed. Unless you were close to suicidal, you should have stayed on it. If it was for your health, that mattered more than a few pounds."

"For your information, it was fifteen pounds. So it was a difference enough for me. And it's not like I need it to keep from getting knocked up or anything." The air shifts, except I don't understand why.

Another sigh. "I just don't like seeing you in pain. Do you still want to go home to get something?"

I'm firm. "Yes."

"All right. I'll be downstairs."

Although I feel better, I'm still mad at Declan, so I don't say anything on the drive to my house. It's Sunday. I should be preparing my lunches for this week. The place should be so clean it nearly sparkles. But no, I'm stuck with Declan.

I'm opening the door before the car even stops moving. While I'm out of the car first, Declan is out of it and waiting as I round the car to go up my porch. "I'm coming in with you."

I unlock the door, hesitant to let him inside. Except I don't bother arguing since I know it won't do any good.

"It looks like my nan's cottage in Galway in here." He shakes his head .

I'm blushing at feeling like he's making fun of me as his eyes move around my house in wonder at the soft, romantic feel of the large living room. Large red, pink, and white roses climb on heavy wallpaper above the lower bead board on the walls.

An overstuffed pink, velvet couch is opposite a large white chair that I spent most of my time reading on. Ivy in large planters run along two walls and alongthe white, tall bookcases overflowing with books.

"I'm not a grandma. Whatever, I like it."

He chuckles. "I like it too. I was worried you hid from yourself even here at home. Now I see why you closed out the world here. It's the only place you allow yourself to be free."

How does he know everything? See me so clearly and inside me like he's in my own damn brain? I back away from him. Then run for the stairs.

I'm hiding from Declan Kelly behind a locked door in my bedroom in my own home. Fully aware a lock is nothing to him. He'll find a way inside.His utter ruthlessness won't let a lock stop him—or me saying no.

I want to run, to hide from him far, far away from here. There's more than enough money in my bank accounts. It would be easy to start over. With my experience and how much my boss loves me, I'd find a new job easily. Or maybe I could finally start my own business—a dream long forgotten until I told Declan.

I feel his eyes on me. Sitting up, I find him leaning against the open doorway in my bedroom.

He holds up a thin leather case before sliding it into the inner pocket of the suit jacket he's wearing. "Lock pick. I learned at twelve. No locks will keep me out. Not on a door or your heart. "

I'm struck dumb by his words. He wanted into my heart?

His eyes sweep around the room. "This didn't look like this while you were married."

It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "No. I threw out everything down to the sheets and mattresses and started new. The same way I'm going to have to when you leave."

An eyebrow goes up. He lets loose an exhale that might be a laugh. "You'll keep something to remember me by. It will be hidden so you don't have to see it every day. But it will also be close by, so you don't have to take too long to get to it."

The predator is back, his eyes sinking low as he crosses to me. Muscle and sinew flexing beneath the silk suit. Standing over me, he removes his jacket. Laying it over the silk chair I like to read in sometimes, he begins undoing his cufflinks. I can only watch as he rolls up his sleeves, displaying hair-dusted forearms.

I'm shaking my head. Only I can't find words. His smile is soft, almost tender, as he looks down on me. "I don't have anything to restrain you, Miranda. Nothing to hold you down and take you against your will. I don't want to either. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you want me the same way I want you. That hunger is eating at you the same way it's eating at me. The need clawing at your gut, leaving you aching and empty."

I long to close my eyes against him to shut him out. Only I can't. The raw honesty on his beautiful face won't allow me to.

A hand comes out to me, and I catch it. Grasping his hand, a thrill shoots through me at the way his eyes glow to the deepest sapphire, and his jaw tightens. I do this to him. He's never felt this before either. And he's just as much of a prisoner to it as I am. Opening my mouth, I taste his thumb before sucking it deep into my mouth.

Blue disappears as his eyes squeeze closed. "Say it, Miranda."

I feel the words rumbling out of his chest all the way to his finger in my mouth. The words won't come. I suck deeper on his thumb.

I'm swallowed in an ocean storm, the waves threatening to pull me under. Using his other hand, he yanks up the hem of my dress to the middle of my stomach.

It sends the word out of me in fear. "No."

He groans. "Yes, let me help you feel better."

His phone rings. Thank god. He lets me go, and the instant he does, I'm off the bed and running into the bathroom.

"Yeah, Dominic."

I slam the door on him and lock it—like that will help. He warned me. Declan Kelly wasn't satisfied with my body. He wanted my heart. He said love… Did he really mean it?

He sounds too close. "Miranda, you have ten minutes. I'll be downstairs."

I count to thirty after he closes my door before leaving the safety of the bathroom. Poking my head out, I sigh in relief to see he's gone. I go into the closet to find what I want to take back to Declan's. Only as I stand in it, I don't see a single thing. The clothes, bras, and panties he got me are better than anything I have in here. I give in and grab a few sleeping shirts, more because I can't go back with nothing.

Wait, a toothbrush. I need a toothbrush and shoes and the pure cotton tampons. And my deodorant. Okay, yes, there is stuff I need. My shoes are downstairs by the door. I only have a few pairs, mainly leather flats for work and leather slip-ons for running around doing errands on the weekend. The few pairs of high heels I have only collect dust since I divorced Michael and didn't dress to impress clients anymore.

I grab a small carry-on suitcase I haven't used since before my divorce and throw everything in it. There's so much room left. Wait, my eReader. I run to grab it along with the charger for it and my cell phone.

Tucking them into the top pocket, I sigh at how little I truly need. Whatever, I'm not telling Declan that.

Downstairs, I find Declan prowling around the living room. When he sees me, he stops, and the smile on his face hits me square in the chest. For a moment, I stumble.

Faster than I thought possible, he's in front of me, catching me close against his hard body. "Careful, love. Are you all right?"

Embarrassed. I nod. "I'm fine. I missed a step."

I gasp when he picks me up and carries me down the remainder of the stairs. "Are you crazy? Put me down. You're going to drop me."

A snort. "Please. You're nothing."

I should not be enjoying this as much as I am. To the point, I'm a little sad when he sets me down. Shaking my head, I sigh. "You are nuts. I need to grab my laptop from my office."

"No, love, no computer in the house. No electronics at all." Declan shakes his head.

"What? Why not?"

"Security." It's clipped, unyielding.

Once again, it's a reminder of why this is all wrong. "I can't even have my eReader?"

"Let me see it." He holds out his hand.

Annoyed, I take it out of the pocket of the suitcase. I'mjustglad I didn't have to open it forhimto see how little I have.

Waking it up, he works it far quicker than I thought he could. Shaking his head, he hands it back. "No."

"Fine." I grab two pairs of shoes and stuff them in one of the many tote bags I keep by the door for when I run errands.

Without another look at Declan, I leave.

It's even more annoying when he gets to the car before me and opens my door for me.

In the car, he sighs. "It's for your security and mine."

"No, it's because you're worried about cops and the FBI. If I weren't with you, I wouldn't need security. All it is is a reminder that I have valid fucking reasons to not get involved with you. If something happens and my company catches wind of even whispers of me involved with someone like you, I could lose my job and a career I've worked for."

Another sigh. But he doesn't argue.

The entire drive back to his home, he doesn't say a word.

When we're back inside, I go upstairs. He calls to me, but I don't even pause. As I close and lock my door, all I hear is a muttered curse.

On Monday, I don't wake up until almost nine. However, this time, Declan isn't downstairs.

I stop for lunch at one, and at five on the dot, Colm enters the office and tells me I'm to stop working. It takes everything in me not to argue with him. Because I know he's simply following Declan's orders.

Dinner is a roast I share with Declan. He's polite. There's no more teasing, flashing of his dimples, or even a smile that reaches his eyes. He asks about my favorite things to do in the city, my favorite books, and even my favorite color. Yet it feels like surface only, as if he simply wanted me to fill the silence of the meal. When I escape to my room while he's taking the dishes into the kitchen, he lets me without a word.

It's the same thing Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday, he doesn't come home before I go to bed. Friday, I don't see him at all. He sleeps late. I hear him come downstairs and leave twenty minutes later. I'm told by Aoife he won't be home for dinner.

I don't miss him. Not his stupid dimples or smiles. And definitely not his teasing and laughter. I'm grateful he isn't trying to charm me anymore—beyond grateful.

Today is Saturday, and I'm hiding in my room. I heard his door close a few minutes ago, a little after nine in the morning, and I'm hoping he'll be gone by the time I go downstairs. I can't stand the idea of seeing him this morning. I hate him so much. He's giving up. The way I knew he would. I misunderstood him when he said he's never felt this way. Love is a word he tosses around but doesn't mean. In the same way he called me darlin', he called me love, but it was meaningless, a generic endearment.

I only need a few more days to complete the stupid audit. Only a few more days before I can leave. He's going to let me go. The Irish Devil is going to keep to the bargain.

Good, it's exactly what I want. So why do I feel like crying?