I kneel beside her, bracing myself on one arm as I lean in to speak to her. “I hurt him because I had to.” I brush a stray curl from her eyes with my free hand. “I hurt him because he would have hurt you.” I lean down and kiss her cheek. “And no one will ever hurt you again. Now take the rest of those clothes off, sweetheart. We only have sixty-two minutes left, and that’s not nearly enough time for what I have planned for you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Fran
The time passes so quickly,I’m shocked when there’s a knock on the door. It’s our stewardess telling us we’re landing and it’s time to buckle up.
Tate helps me dress, a wicked gleam in his eye when he takes in everything, and I know what he sees—the teeth marks around my neck, the pink handprints from when he got carried away with my arse, the glisten of sweat along my brow from having come three times in the space of one hour—on his mouth, from his fingers, and the most glorious of all, a full body climax when he came in me.
The intimacy eased the ache in my heart, the pain at having seen his brutality up close. It was nothing like I thought it would be.
Once, years ago, some of us took a trip to Ireland and watched a bare-knuckled fight. The McCarthy men, friends of the Cowens, are experts. And it was really, really, bloody hot.
But that was controlled, somehow managed. This… was not.
For some reason, I thought watching Tate hurt Fergus would be the same as the fight.
Don’t get me wrong, I love that he defended me.
And he’s right, Fergus did deserve it.
But this… the pain of it all, the intensity… it was too bloody much.
Too much.
I think it’s everything, though. My fears from what I’ve seen.
My fears of what happens next.
I’m tired, as we’re nearing evening, and amazed that we’ve come this far so quickly. A car ride and ferry to Dublin would take a good nine to ten hours at the very least, and we’re here in the space of the time it took us to jump each other’s bones.
I can deal with that.
Tate wordlessly reaches for my hand and tangles our fingers together. It gives me momentary solace, but I wonder… what will happen to us next? I’ve gotten the Clan into so much trouble. Will I ever be able to make up for what I’ve done? Will they ever forgive me?
Will he?
“We’ve got a short ride to Ballyhock,” Tate says, after we exit. “But our friends aren’t far away.”
I’ve never been here before. I wish it was under better conditions, but I’ll take what I can.
I put us here. I did.
And it’s up to me to get us out of this mess.
The car that waits for us is a long, sleek navy blue with a sunroof. Tate snickers. “Leave it to Lachlan to bloody show off, eh?”
The name rings a bell, but I haven’t met him before. Then I remember something I heard from my research at one point. “Oooh. He’s the one that was in love with Sheena’s younger sister, but when they met she was like a wee girl, right? And he waited all those years for her? Like her bodyguard, and they were soulmates and now they’re married with children, right?”
He gives me a sidelong glance with pursed lips and doesn’t reply at first. I feel my cheeks flush. I know this because of my research, and it’s a reminder I’ve stuck my nose where it doesn’t belong. But when he replies, he doesn’t reprimand or scold.
“Of course he did,” he says, as if waiting years for a girl to grow up is normal and expected. “How could he do anything else? He loves her.”
He loves her.
My heart twangs like a plucked string on a guitar.
He loves her.
