Page 52 of Bargain with the Irish Devil

“I can’t say for certain. I don’t really feel comfortable answering that question.” The sweet, kind Declan is gone. He's the gangster now. The men are dead. They just don't know it yet. And I helped Declan find them.

“How much, Miranda?” It’s a demand I don’t dare refuse.

“More than forty thousand, perhaps as much as forty-five thousand.”

Anger is flowing from him in waves threatening to take me under. My nerves are so frazzled the ledger slips from my hand.

“What’s the matter?” He doesn’t miss it.

“Nothing. I’ve finished. Here, you probably want to shred my notes so that no one—well, I’m sure you’re used to that.” I offer him the notepad.

He tosses it on his desk without looking where it lands. “Miranda, talk to me, love.”

"I'm tired. I did it. It's done. I need to go home." I’m backing away from him.

“Damn it, Miranda, what the hell is the matter now?”

Declan’s exasperation sets me off.“What’s the matternow? The same thing since I met you, but you keep refusing to listen. You’re going to kill them, aren’t you? You can dress it up as nicely as you want, but it doesn’t change that if you scratch the surface, you’re just as bad as any member of the Outfit. If Peter doesn’t pay, your men are going to hurt him enough to scare the shit out of him sothat he comes through with the money, like you would anyone you lent money to. These men fucked up big time, I get that. But anywhere else, they’d be prosecuted andsentenced. Except in your world, you’ll kill them. Because of me."

His jaw is hard. "Yes, they'regoing to die. That was their decision to make. It'snotbecause of you. They knew the minute they hired onit was dangerous to be in this world. There's a reason why they are paid well—for those dangers. If they're loyal and work hard, they earn more than enough. I also gave ways of making more money, but neither of them ever took me up on it. If it gets out I did nothing more than rough them up for stealing for me, I will be considered weak. A weak man is a dead man. They are going to die, but it was because they took a chance knowing they could die from it."

I squeeze my eyes tight. I'm so confused. Who would be dumb enough to cross Declan? "It doesn't change the fact I'm the one who is giving you the name."

He cups my cheeks, his thumb wiping the tears away. "Miranda, love, look at me. I will never hurt you. I will never let anyone hurt you. I'm not a hero. I do bad shit. But never without provocation. I take no enjoyment from it. I will not ask your forgiveness. All I need is your love."

The tears fall harder now.

"Don't leave me. I lied. I'm sorry. At the time I said it, I meant it. But Ican'tlet you go. Don't ask me to. Stay here with me." He lowers his head to mine.

I open my eyes. It's there. What I hoped but didn't dare dream I would ever have. Declan's heart. "You'll have to tie me to the bed to keep me."

Waves churn, "I will spank your ass if you don't use your words, Miranda."

"I love you, you fool."

"Thank god." He groans as his mouth crashes down on me.

A long time later, he sighs as he rolls onto his back, holding me tight to keep his cock deep inside me the way I love.

“I hate to tell you this, and it feels like it ruins the moment, but your brother is in jail. He’s likely to be there for a while. The idiot robbed a jewelry store with a gun out in Vegas. He’s looking at ten to fifteen years.”

I freeze at his words, only to accept it easier than I thought I would. “Is it bad I’m not heartbroken? The only thing I’m surprised about is how quickly it happened. A part of me always knew he would end up in prison. How did you know?”

“I hear things. People know he owes me money. The same people know you’re his sister and that you’re with me.”

How did they know we were together when I'd only beenin his home for almost three weeks? God, it's only been three weeks, and my life has changed beyond recognition.

Was I bad for accepting him as he is? Did it make me as bad as him? As I look into soft blue, concerned over if I'll be upset over my fuck up brother, I don’t care. This man has cared more for me than anyone in my life, except for my mom. Even my dad never made me feel as loved and safe as Declan has since that Sunday.

We would start out the morning together. He would go off to do things I didn't want to know about. I would work on the audit and take a break for lunch. A few times, Declan was able to have lunchwith me. If he didn’t, he always checked in on me and ordered me tostop to eat.

Things were so good, we even went out. Once, we went to a local bookstore, another time to a movie, an afternoon out atthe Institute of Art, and even an evening out to attend a play he helped finance.

He wasn’t as busy as I worried he would be and we shared dinner every night. While Aoife often made dinner, we did go out a few times. Last night, we had dinner at one of his pubs. He introduced me as his Miranda. I loved the way he smiled when he said it proudly. Everyone was nice and polite at the pub. A few men teased him, but he wasn’t bothered at all.

One thing I’ve noticed was how people treated me when I was out with him. It was obvious he was respected, and they treated me with the same respect and deference. Women complimented me and asked where my clothing was from or my opinion on where to shop. Men smiled but it was rare for them to do more than nod at me. Apparently Declan made it known that no men were to allow their eyes to remain on me for long.

He might do bad things but he also did so much good. Things he did without wanting recognition—helping a single mother find a new place to live when she was priced out of her rental. Another older woman needed help caring for her own dementia-suffering mother but was unable to afford it. Declan paid the bills without allowing his name to be used. The respect he was paid was deserved and he never took it for granted.

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