“Rhys. Darling,stop. He’s unconscious.”
Her arms securely around Glory, Maggie called to her lover, but he didn’t seem to hear her. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice that the fight was over. Escorted by an army of guards, she and Tessa had rushed into this room a few minutes ago, and Glory had run straight to her…but Rhys had been too busy beating the life out of Sweeney. He still was.
She started forward, but Harry Kent stopped her.
“Better let him get it out of his system,” he advised.
“When he’s through, it’s my turn,” Tessa said darkly.
But now that Glory was safe, Maggie didn’t want Rhys to be charged withmurder.
“Mama?”
She instantly looked at her daughter. Glory had her ferret cuddled against her chest. Ferdinand was still woozy after sustaining injuries defending her against Sweeney. Tessa had examined F. F., and luckily the bump on its head didn’t appear too serious. The heroic animal gave Glory’s bruised cheek a weak lick.
Seeing the battered pair caused anger to smolder in Maggie’s chest.
Maybe Rhys has the right of it: Sweeney deserves to pay.
She put a protective arm around Glory’s shoulders. “Yes, my dearest?”
“The bad man, Mr. Sweeney…he told me that Ransom is my father. Is that true?”
Maggie sucked in a breath. Confronted with Glory’s eyes—Rhys’s eyes—she couldn’t lie.
Nor did she want to.
“Yes, it’s true. I knew Ransom before I married your father…the one who raised you I mean. But Ransom didn’t find out about you until he came to Dorset a few weeks ago.” Anxiously, she searched her daughter’s face. “I know how confusing this must be. It all happened a long time ago, and—”
“I understand.”
She blinked at the steady reply. “You do?”
Glory nodded. “Does Ransom want to be my papa now?”
“He does, dear heart.” Hesitantly, Maggie asked, “Do you think…you’d like that too?”
In answer, Glory called out, “Papa! Papa—stop fighting!”
Rhys’s arm froze mid-swing. He twisted toward them.
Maggie saw the haze of bloodlust slowly fade from his eyes.
“Did Glory just call me…Papa?” he asked hoarsely.
“She did.” Her heart full to bursting, Maggie smiled tremulously. “Now that we have your attention, would you mind leaving off the killing and joining your family instead?”
Rhys surged to his feet, rising from the ash of pulverized glass. Dark hair waved over his sweaty brow. His cheek was cut, his jacket torn, and his fists dripped blood.
He was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen.
“Anything for my girls,” he said.
He started over.
She and Glory met him halfway, running into his arms.
40
