Page 44 of Bartered Innocence

My memory of that night is slightly hazy, but I briefly remember her sitting next to someone. “A brunette, not as dark as Isabelle. They seemed familiar, but not friendly.”

“Got it,” he says, and pulls up a snapshot of the vaguely memorable woman with Ricky standing next to her, his arm slung over her shoulders. And in the next few seconds, a multitude of photos of her and Luca exiting hotels in New York instead.

“Either they’re sharing…” I trail off, disgusted by the blatant disrespect Luca has for someone he’s supposed to be loyal to.

“Or he knew exactly what naive little Isabelle was up to.”

My fist slams the table.

“Fuck! I’m sick of this rat bastard being two steps ahead of us. I’m tempted to walk over and shoot him between the eyes and have that be the end of this.”

Declan snorts, turning around in his chair to face me. “His time will come. He’s still operating under the assumption that we don’t know. We’ll have redemption, Rian.”

Chapter18

Isabelle

He fucksme every morning as if he wakes up and can’t wait to put his hands on me. He usually lingers for a few moments after we both come before he showers and leaves without another word. I know I can stop it at any time, simply tell him I don’t want him, but the words never fall from my lips.

I let myself lie in a confused pile of emotions for another hour this morning before I roll out of bed and shower too. I’m not sure where he goes, but I’m not in the mood to find him. The feelings battling in my heart and mind are giving me whiplash. I thought I could keep my head down for the first few weeks and let the peace of our marriage settle before bringing up returning to my father’s restaurant. His insatiable desire hadn’t factored in my plans. Neither did my equally strong craving to feel his body over mine.

Making my way to the kitchen, I barely glance at Aodhan perched on the counter as Deirdre is standing at the stove. She looks up at me with a grin as I walk over to her.

“Could I have some as well?” I ask.

Aodhan clears his throat. “You’re the lady of the house. You don’t have to ask.”

I glare at him. “It’s called manners.”

His eyebrow raises. “She’s paid well, Isabelle. It would be her pleasure to serve you.”

Deirdre nods excitedly and ushers me to a stool a few seats down from Aodhan. “It’s my pleasure, sweetie. God, you’re so beautiful. You and Rian will make beautiful babies.”

After Rian’s confession about his mother, people’s comments about babies don’t bother me so much. Babies are inevitable, especially with us not using protection. I try to tell myself it’s out of pity for his family, and not because of a recurring dream of a small boy with Rian’s eyes that stares at me with adoration. Or a petite girl with my long, dark hair who runs to be picked up by her daddy and swung around while they both laugh. I sit, uncomfortable with her compliment and begrudging the fact that I’m stuck close to Aodhan, trying to look around inconspicuously. Some days Rian lingers and I catch him on the way out with a coffee in hand, but I doubt he stayed this long today.

“He left,” Aodhan says.

My lips curl in a small snarl. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

Aodhan reminds me of my brother, the way he seems to read everything on my face. He smiles into his coffee for a long sip before nodding at my hand.

“Your husband. Gives you time to put your ring on before he gets home.”

I glance down at my empty finger and bite down on the inside of my lip. I only removed it to put on my face oils and moisturizers. I forgot to put it back on. But now that Aodhan has planted the idea in my head, it’s stuck. His eyes flash, then narrow, coming to the same conclusion. I smile and then turn to thank the woman as she sets a bowl of oatmeal down with a plate of fruit.

“Go raibh maith agat, Deirdre, ” Aodhan says.

She rolls her eyes and swats at his head.

“What was that?”

“Irish.”

“What’d you say?”

Aodhan watches me for a second. “Thank you…kind of.”

I attempt to repeat it, and she smiles widely at me, nodding.

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