Page 66 of Vengeful Vows

“This house has so many rooms,” I murmur, looking around the office.

There are books everywhere in the wraparound bookshelf, some of them are law books, but most of them seemed to be autobiographies and fiction—mystery and science fiction, mostly.

I walk over to the bookcase, fingering one of the more well-loved titles.

“You like to read?” Declan asks.

“Sometimes,” I agree. “Mostly girl stuff.”

He snorts. “And what’s girl stuff? I like a good bodice ripper from time to time.”

Declan walks up behind me, putting his hand over mine and dragging it to a lower shelf, and sure enough, there’s a series of Victorian romances.

“You can’t be serious,” I mutter, taking one of them out and looking at it, mouth ajar.

It’s full-on bodice ripper, like he said, too, with a huge drawn man on the cover wearing a flowy tunic and a woman with heaving bosoms in his arms.

“There’s nothing like Victorian era sex,” Declan says, almost as if he’s defending himself. “I mean, think of all the clothes they had to remove just to do it.”

I laugh, turning to look at him, and he’s smiling at me. His eyes are so tender.

My heart feels like it might fall out of my stomach.

What have I done?

17

DECLAN

Bree has been in a weird mood ever since I sent that note to her father. She seems nervous, in a way, and I wonder if her and her father have a more strained relationship than I’d thought.

Usually, I’d be suspicious about her sending a message, but it read just like a normal family birthday card.

Nevertheless, Finn knew to make a copy before he left and I plan to read over Niall’s reply word for word, to be sure that he’s not sending her some kind of plan. I know that a lot of our kind speaks in code, but she’d only mentioned her brother and her dog.

Having my own experience with Slick, I can understand missing your childhood pet. I miss Slick every single day. He was a big American Pitbull, and he had a vicious bark, but he’d never bite a soul unless I ordered him to. He was good with Paige when she was a baby, rolling around on the floor with her.

The day that he’d gotten ahold of that poison bait had been one of the worst days of my life. The day after, when I found out who did it—one of my father’s rival’s sons—had been the bloodiest.

There’s a reason they call me the Irish scourge.

When Finn brings me the reply, just before dinner, it’s just a single sheet of paper. I read over it, and it’s simple and doesn’t seem to contain any plans. I’m still suspicious of Niall, but I honestly can’t see any kind of code emerging. I make a copy and leave the office.

I walk into the bedroom. “Your father replied.”

Bree jumps at the sound of my voice and freezes where she’s been brushing her long, auburn hair.

“Did he?”

I hand her the letter, and she reads it out loud.

“Wean,

I am so glad to hear from you. Just having dinner tomorrow to celebrate my birthday. Thank you so much for your sweet birthday wishes. I miss you so badly.

Molly misses you most of all, though! She howls and barks twice a day, around the same times you used to walk her.

And don’t you worry your pretty head about my back. I’m as strong as an ox and twice as mean.

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