Page 32 of Vengeful Union

I shrug. “I have no reason not to. You have Murphy blood coursing through your veins.”

“I’m nothing like my father.”

I look him up and down. “Well, you’re holding me hostage, so that remains to be seen.”

“I thought I told you that you have to trust me for this. That we have to trust each other.”

“Trust is earned, Rory.”

“Then I’ll do everything I can to earn it,” he says in a low voice, making a shiver run through me.

Why am I reacting like this? I’m not interested in Rory. He’s a Murphy, for God’s sake. Maybe I just haven’t been around people in so long that I’m going crazy.

“What happens now?” I cross my arms over my chest.

Rory runs a hand through his dark hair. “I suppose you’ll move into my room.”

I balk at that. “We’re going to sleep in the same bed?”

He scoffs. “We’ll be married, Lara. Of course, we will. We have to make this look realistic.”

I let out a long breath. “You better not touch me.”

“God forbid,” Rory drawls, holding up his hands. “I don’t want this either, you know.”

“Then why are you doing it? Why are you helping me?” What is Rory getting out of this?

“It’ll take the attention off Bree. I want to keep her safe, and she’ll never be safe if my father is always after her.”

I swallow hard.

I know that Bree is happy, but I also know she lives looking over her shoulder all the time. I know from experience how hard that is.

“All right,” I say slowly. “Then let’s go. I desperately need a shower.”

“Of course.”

Rory leads me out into the hallway, and I look down toward the right wing.

There are probably six bedrooms on that side, and a big room that might be a library or an office.

“The whole left wing is used for storage?”

Rory nods. “My mother used to live in the left wing. After she abandoned us, my father blocked it off. Couldn’t stand to even walk into those rooms that were all hers.”

I raise an eyebrow, wondering what Murphy’s relationship was with his wife since they slept in completely different wings of the mansion.

My mother and father had shared a bed until the day she was killed.

They’d been madly in love.

I can’t imagine Niall Murphy feeling that way about anybody.

I want to ask why his mother left them, want to probe, but I don’t. I just have to get through the next few weeks, and then we can go our separate ways. I don’t need to get to know Rory Murphy. I just need to pretend.

He opens the door and moves out of the way to allow me inside.

The room is huge, just like the one I was staying in earlier, but it’s almost like a teenage boy’s room. There are posters of motorcycles and girls in bikinis on the wall, and a four-poster bed in the corner. I run my finger along the bookshelf, and it comes away dusty.

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