Page 44 of Her Irish Treasures
Shame tightened my throat. “Yeah. For five years.”
“Did you love him?”
His question shouldn’t have startled me. People got married because they fell in love, right? But I honestly couldn’t remember being happy with Jonathan. I must have been once. Before he hit on Vivi. Before he made me feel so small. “I guess so? At least in the beginning.”
Doran lifted his hand to my chin and turned my face toward him, leaning back to make room for me to turn enough so my neck wasn’t strained. “I detect unpleasantness in your voice, and your mind is nothing but thick tar when you think of him. Does this man yet live? I will be only too happy to pay him a visit.”
Aidan growled. “Let’s each collect a body part from this wanker.”
“No, no,” I said hurriedly. “I don’t want anything to do with him ever again. The divorce was bad enough.”
Doran’s eyes glittered with malice. “Tell us,mo stór. I want to know this story.”
My stomach churned, my eyes burning with tears. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
His stony face softened, and he brushed his lips against each of my eyelids. “Very well,mo stór. We will talk of it another day but talk we must. If this man broke your heart, we must take care to heal it and not injure you further.”
Relieved, I turned toward him and buried my face against his chest. His big fingers stroked my hair, trying to take away some of the hurt. But he couldn’t soothe that pain away.
I was scared. Terrified, actually. Once they heard my story, they’d think less of me. I certainly did. Why had I married such a jerk? Deliberately? Especially when I couldn’t remember a single good time?
When I couldn’t remember if I’d ever even loved him?
3
Islept so hard and long that I woke feeling a bit like Rip Van Winkle. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, but I couldn’t tell if it was morning or afternoon. For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was.
Then I turned my head and found gleaming golden eyes shining back at me.
“Good afternoon, sleepy head,” Ivarr said. “Feel better?”
I stretched, groaning as blood started flowing through my lethargic muscles. “Ouch. I’m actually pretty sore. I feel like a herd of horses trampled me while I slept.”
His lips quirked, a dimple popping up in his cheek. “Doran does tend to have that effect.”
Heat flooded me. Embarrassment, yeah, a little, but also desire. The memory of him thrusting deep inside me made my breath catch on a soft, ragged sigh. I couldn’t recall feeling such overwhelming pleasure before.
A twinge of unease nagged me. Not that I wanted to dwell on my ex-husband’s skills—or lack thereof—in the bedroom. But when I tried to remember…
“What has put that look on your face,mo stór?” Ivarr asked.
“Nothing,” I said brightly, sitting up enough to fluff the pillows up beneath me so I could see the entire room. “Where is everyone?”
“They went to give Doran a tour of their weapons cache to decide what to keep and what to sell. They’ve been gone a few hours.”
I was vaguely surprised to find myself still wrapped up in the hotel robe, though it was gaping open a bit after sleeping. I didn’t really care to put the corset top back on—but the rest of my clothes were at Vivi’s. While I’d certainly felt sexy in the green velvet that hugged my curves and made the girls look fantastic, it was an outfit to wear to the club. Not something you wore during the broad daylight at a cheap hotel, without feeling like you were taking the walk of shame home for some new clothes. Though that did make my lips quirk.
Me, Riann the geeky painter, taking one hell of a walk of shame back to get some clothes. Oh yeah.
“Aidan grabbed some things for you from your friend’s house,” Ivarr added.
Eyebrow arched, I watched him get up and fetch a bag to lay on the foot of the bed. “How did he even know where she lives? I never took him there.”
Ivarr snorted. “Aidan is part bloodhound. He could track you to the coast and back now that he knows your scent.”
Hmm. Maybe. Though he could have asked Warwick where Vivi lived. Would he have stooped so low as to ask the leprechaun? Warwick had whisked me home that first night, and then I’d called him for help to secure the warehouse and move all my painting supplies so I could work on finding Doran’s location.
Either way, it was a very considerate thing for Aidan to do. Even more so because he generally wasn’t the warm-and-fuzzy kind of guy.
