Page 65 of Stolen Rival
After an amazing—if painful—ninety-minute sports massage, a facial, and a touch up to my manicure, we begin the funeral procession back to the house. When the driver opens the door for me, I hesitate.
I don’t want to break this bubble of normality, but whenthe front door to the house opens and Patrick comes into view, there’s no point in delaying. I say my thanks and goodbyes to Rosanna, who gives me her number and tells me to call any time, day or night, and trudge my way toward the door to my prison.
Chapter 33
PATRICK
My wife hasa glow as she says goodbye to Rosanna. It’s clear the two have bonded, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. I meant it when I told Sorcha that she and Rosanna were alike.
Although… perhaps this wasn’t my best idea. Sorcha has enough spirit without adding an equally feisty woman into the mix. Despite my misgivings, though, the way she’s standing that little bit taller as she slams the car door and tramps toward the house makes me glad I did.
Especially as I plan to confront her with what I overheard her saying to Cathal. Carrot and stick.
I’ve had a few days to mull over my strategy, to gain control of the anger bubbling beneath the surface that she still believes there is a way to escape me. It’s about time I laid it on the line. There isn’t a square inch of this planet she could run to where I wouldn’t be able to find her. Especially with the challenges of her brother being in a wheelchair. On some level, she must understand that, even if she’s trying to convince herself otherwise.
“Good day?” I ask genially.
A momentary flash of confusion whips across her face. “Yes, thank you.”
I step back to let her pass, then close the door. “Would you like to join me in my study for a drink?”
Two deep lines pop between her eyebrows. “O-kay.”
I motion her forward, following in her footsteps. She crosses the threshold into my office, then hovers, as if she isn’t sure where to sit.
“Take your pick.” I sweep my arm at the choice of seating. She chooses the couch. Interesting. “What would you like?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether this is a conversation befitting a triple brandy or something lighter like a gin and tonic.”
My lips twitch. Once upon a time, I’d have cut her sass down with a few barely veiled threats. Now, her backchat amuses me. I’d go as far as to say I relish it when she shows her spine.
Crossing over to the drinks cabinet in the farthest corner, I pour myself a glass of water with ice and make her a gin and tonic. I join her on the couch, hand over her drink, and lightly touch my tumbler to hers.
“To new beginnings.”
Her head tilts to one side, confusion dancing behind her lashes. She’s off-balance, wondering where I’m going with this, and I am enjoying every second of her bewilderment. She takes a sip, then sets her drink on the table to her left.
“Why don’t you drink?”
I contain my surprise that she’s noticed I avoid alcohol. This woman notices things. She has a keen eye and attentionto detail that many would gloss over or ignore completely. I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad.
“I don’t like how it makes me feel. Tell me about your day.”
She pauses for a second, perhaps considering delving further into my obvious brush-off. Not that I have any plans to tell her the real reason I’m teetotal.
“No doubt your spy will tell you soon enough. I’m pretty sure Rosanna was a plant, and she’ll report back to Garrett, who will then relay every detail to you.”
I chuckle. “Rosanna would never agree to play that part. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, but if you think I have the means to find out some other way, you’re wrong.” After setting my glass down, I move closer to her. “I wanted to reward you, like we agreed. No agenda.” Reaching out, I tug on her earlobe then gently brush my fingers down the slope of her neck.
“Oh.” Her shoulders relax, and she settles back into the couch. “We had a lovely time. Rosanna is terrific. I hope we can do it again sometime.”
“I’m sure we can arrange that.” I slide my hand around the back of her neck, gently massaging the nape. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
Clasping the cross hanging on a thin gold chain around her neck, she scissors it from side to side. “I don’t understand you at all.”
