10. Sullivan

10

SULLIVAN

T he walk from the library to our upstairs rooms seemed endless. I was so anxious about whatever David intended to tell me. I just prayed he was ready to be truthful about the things I sensed he was either hiding or lying to me about.

I’d put a great deal of trust in him when I shared my theories about Eric Weber and Tower-Meridian, because deep down, even in the short amount of time we’d been together, I sensed I could. I just wished he felt the same way about me.

If confiding in him had been a mistake, I doubted I’d ever forgive myself for it. Then again, if I was really wrong, I might not live long enough for it to matter.

“This is me,” I said when we reached the fourth door on the left, as Tag had written down for me. “Would you like to come in?”

“Um, sure. I think I’m just one over from you.”

When we went inside, I saw we’d been given adjoining suites, the connecting doors of which had been left open.

“Do you know what this is?” David asked, chuckling.

“Besides adjoining suites?”

He motioned for me to join him in the other room.

“When Tag’s ancestors first converted the monastery into their home—and we’re talking a couple of centuries ago—this would have been the earl’s quarters.” He pointed to my suite. “And those would belong to the countess.”

“Of course. I see that now. Seems so unromantic.”

“While I’d venture to guess some unions may have been based on love, the majority were arranged and were more of a business deal than a marriage.”

“What about your family, David?”

His eyes met mine. “Sullivan…I…”

An alert that sounded like an alarm went off on his mobile.

“Come with me,” he said, taking my hand in one of his and pulling me from the room.

“What’s going on?” I asked when I realized he’d drawn his gun with the other.

He grasped my hand tighter. “This way,” he said when the power went out and the only illumination was from the lights along the floorboards.

“Is there a fire?”

“Something like that.” He pulled me into a room at the end of the hallway. “Stay as close as you can to me.”

He used his shoulder to push against a panel in the wall and, when it opened, led me behind it. The temperature immediately dropped by several degrees.

“The steps are steep,” he warned. “Hold onto my arm and stay as close as you can behind me.”

“David, please tell me what’s happening,” I whispered.

“Security breach. There’s a safe room on the lowest level, and that’s where I’m taking you.”

I hugged the stone wall as we made our way down what felt like two stories. Unlike in the hallway, there was no illumination in the musty-smelling stairwell. Once we got to the bottom, David reached into his pocket. Seconds later, the place where we stood was lit up by his mobile.

When he pointed it at a door, I saw a panel similar to the one outside his cottage entrance. He placed his palm on it, and another smaller door sprung open. There, he punched in a code. “Con seriously needs to rethink this,” he muttered, leading me through the now-unlocked entrance. “Although this is nicer than I imagined,” he commented when motion-detected lights turned on and the door shut and locked behind us.

My mouth gaped, less at the room we were in than at his surprisingly nonchalant attitude.

“Come here,” he said, pulling me close to him.

“David, this is…”

“Shh,” he soothed, stroking my hair when I couldn’t speak and my body began to shake.

My eyes flooded with tears, something that was rare for me.

“Come and sit.”

I let him lead me to a sofa and pull me down beside him. “I have a few things to tell you.”

“A few?” I said in a raised voice.

“Yes. Well, a couple, at least.”

I wriggled my hand from between his. “I was thinking it was a higher number.”

“I’m not sure where to start.”

“How about with who you really are?”

He turned his body to face me and reached for my hand. “Please,” he said when I moved it out of his grasp.

His eyes bored into mine. “My name is David Evans.” He paused as though he expected it to mean something to me. When my eyes scrunched and I shook my head, he continued.

“What I told you about who I work for was the truth?—”

“You didn’t tell me. You said that a decent reporter would be able to figure it out. Maybe not those exact words, but close.”

“Sounds like me,” he muttered. “I work for SIS, and as I’m sure you gathered, I am an assassin.”

My eyes opened wide, and I gasped. “An assassin?”

“Yes, but I am on the side of the good guys.” He added something under his breath that I didn’t catch, but I also didn’t ask him to repeat it.

“What else?”

“I am, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, the Duke of Ashcroft.”

“The duke?”

“That’s right. Given my, err, line of work, it’s been necessary that I maintain a certain anonymity.”

“You’re a duke.”

“Yes. Of Ashcroft—the castle and estate of the same name.”

“So, why…?” My mind raced, answering my own question.

“There’s more.”

I nodded and averted my gaze. “Of course there is.”

“A few years ago—actually longer than that—over twenty years ago, my family spent a year living in Ballater, outside?—”

“I know where Ballater is. I grew up…” Twenty years ago? His family spent a year there? “My God. You’re…”

“From what I remember, and that’s everything from that year of my life, you called me Davy.”

“Davy?” The name was barely a whisper on my lips.

“Yes, Sully.”

My eyes darted between his until I finally squeezed them shut.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

I jerked my hand from his. “I asked you repeatedly. I knew you were familiar.” I raised my gaze and studied him. “You lied. Over and over again.”

“I apologize, Sullivan. Sincerely.”

Rather than ask, I thought about why he had. As much as it angered me, could I really fault him for it? Especially about being a duke. If I were in his place, I would’ve kept it a secret too. As far as him denying the familiarity, I was irritated that he hadn’t just come out with it, but again, could I blame him?

“I didn’t recognize you.”

“I hardly hoped you would.” He winked.

“You do look different.” My voice trailed off as I recalled the little boy he used to be. “Wait, you recognized me?”

“Sullivan Rivers is a far more memorable name.”

I nodded. “It is. Far more than just David.”

“Yes, well.”

I folded my arms in front of me. “Yes, well,” I mimicked, taking a deep breath and looking around the room. “This is the craziest thing that’s ever happened to me. Wait. Not the craziest. Having a gun against my head and thinking I was a split second away from dying is worse than this. But still.”

“Can I ask which part?” It was such a relief to be able to place the look on his face. At that moment, he became Davy, the shy, sweet boy who my mum teased me about incessantly.

“I’m not sure.” I looked around the room. “This, mainly. How much danger are we in?”

“I don’t know except to say no one can get to you in here. The other thing is, it could very well be a false alarm, and by that, I mean someone could be trespassing on the estate, but their reasons for doing so have nothing to do with you being here.”

“Such as?”

He stroked his beard, something I hadn’t seen him do. “I’d say hunters, but we’re quite far out of the season, aren’t we?”

I stared at him. “Why are you so calm?”

“Calm? I’m not. I suppose what I am is not worried. We are in the safest place possible, perhaps in all of Scotland. With the exception of Con’s estate, although I haven’t had occasion to be in his safe room.”

“You’re also chatty.”

His brow furrowed. “Chatty?”

“You’ve been quite tight-lipped.”

“Yes, well, when keeping up a fabrication to conceal my identity, it’s typically best to say as little as possible.”

I turned and rested against the sofa. Flopped would be a better way to describe it. “I should be really angry with you. More, I should be questioning everything you’re telling me. Maybe I should be afraid for my life.”

“Are you?” he asked.

“What?”

“Doing anything of those things?”

I shook my head. “Stupidly, not. Or maybe it’s sadly.”

“I’m glad.”

“Argh,” I groaned when my eyes filled with tears.

David put his arm around me and pulled me close to him, stroking my hair like he had a few minutes ago.

“I won’t hurt you, Sullivan. I won’t let anyone else hurt you, either.”

“I know,” I whispered, brushing at my tears.

“Why are you crying?”

His question only made it worse. How could I admit that I had so few people in my life who I could trust, so few people I even confided in, that here I was, believing him. A man who’d lied to me repeatedly, could’ve killed me, and who I hadn’t seen in over twenty years. A man who, in reality, was a complete stranger to me, and yet, I felt safe and protected. When he said he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, I believed him. God, I trusted him. “I don’t even know you,” were the only words I managed to say.

His hand moved to my cheek, and he raised my face. “Don’t you, Sullivan? Or do you know me better than anyone?”

His lips were soft against mine. Sweet, gentle, and loving. Not at all what I wanted. I angled my head, pressed my tongue against his mouth, and when he opened to me, I deepened the kiss and wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled me onto his lap, then put one hand on the back of my neck and the other around me, cupping my bottom.

I froze when I heard someone outside the door, breaking the kiss, but closing any space there was between our bodies.

“All clear,” I heard Tag shout right before the door sprung open. He took one look at us, arms entwined, bodies flush, then backed his way out of the room. “Right. As I said, all clear. Take your time.” The sound of his voice grew more distant with each word he spoke.

I rested my head against David’s chest. “I’m mortified.”

He put his fingers on my chin and raised my face. “I’m not, and what’s more, Tag isn’t, either.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “In fact, he, Con, and Gus, if they’re here, are likely drinking a toast to us right now.”

“Should we join them?”

David shook his head. “Not just yet. I’ve twenty years of wanting to kiss you to make up for.”