Page 52 of Her Irish Treasures
Except that was where Warwick was.
Absently tracing the coin in my pocket, I played back scenes from before we’d freed Doran, trying to tell whether Aidan had been so suspicious of Warwick all along, or if his distrust was more recent. Simple jealousy—the same trouble that had befallen their former treasurekeeper, ultimately leading to Doran’s capture? Or something deeper? But they’d lived for thousands of years. Surely even Aidan wouldn’t hold a grudge that long.
He flung himself down on the bed beside me with a vicious scowl. “No couch for me tonight or I’ll be ripping new assholes in all of you.”
Ivarr winked at me, sultry golden heat shimmering in his eyes. “Fine by me. She painted me earlier today.”
Aidan snorted. “Is that what you’re calling it now?”
Blushing, I elbowed him hard in the ribs and concentrated on my phone. “I did paint him, and Doran too.” And more, of course.
I texted Vivi.Are you free to talk?
She replied back almost immediately.Sure. Give me 5.
“So,” Aidan drawled, waiting until I met his gaze. “Jonathan Blake. You ready to hear what we found?”
My stomach immediately quivered with dread. “If you can tell me in five minutes or less. I need to call Vivi.”
Aidan held up his hand and started counting off his fingers. “Born in Kansas City thirty seven years ago. Lived here all his life. Everything about him checks out until you guessed it.” He arched a brow, waiting for me to finish his sentence.
“Until five years ago.”
He nodded. “He job hopped around town off and on for years, never anything substantial but basic and expected for a loser of his caliber. One day, he was an assistant manager selling shoes and then the next, he started a business named Solobrex worth a hundred times more than he ever made in his life, coincidentally around the time you and he must have started dating.”
“Solobrex,” I said slowly. Even the word tasted bad on my tongue. “I never was sure what he did there exactly. He owned it?”
“Nobody’s sure what Solobrex does.” Sitting in the rickety office chair, Keane gingerly scooted closer to the bed. “That’s what makes it a good front.”
“A front for what?” I asked. “Jonathan was a lot of things, but I wouldn’t call him a smart, brave, or strong man. He wouldn’t have been smart enough to be involved in money laundering, let alone anything illegal or risky.”
Aidan let out a low grunt. “Exactly. You just described the man to a T. I still can’t—”
Keane broke in, “Didn’t you say you needed to call Vivi? It’s been five minutes.”
“Yeah.” I stared down at the phone screen, trying to get a grip. Keane might have interrupted him but I knew exactly what Aidan had wanted to say. How could I have ended up with a man like Jonathan? If he wasn’t smart, brave, or strong… what had ever attracted me in the first place?
“I’ll walk you down to the lobby if you want,” Keane said. “If you want some quiet for your call.”
Doran was humming in the shower—but it sounded like giant boulders rolling down a mountainside. Ivarr, acting as bartender, started a discussion—aka argument—with Aidan about what they were going to watch on the television. Which had to be at maximum volume.
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
I started to get up out of bed, and Aidan’s hand clamped down on my forearm. I expected him to boss me around. Tell me to be careful. Demand I return to bed—and him—as soon as possible.
Instead, he leaned up from the stack of pillows against the headboard and kissed my forehead. “Forgive me,mo stór. The thought of you being unhappy or worse for a single moment makes me want to commit mass murder on a global scale.”
Blinking back tears, I leaned against him a moment, soaking in his heat. “I don’t know why I married him either. I’m hoping Vivi can tell me.”
My phone rang, so I picked up her call as Keane opened the door. “How are the lovebirds?”
She laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile with her. Her joy was too contagious. Tall, brilliant, and drop-dead gorgeous, she’d always had her choice of men. Yet a bearded, thick bear of a man on a motorcycle had won her heart rather than the slick men in suits that she worked with. I didn’t know much about Hammer other than he was a member of Demon Hunters, the motorcycle gang that rode with my guys.
“Absolutely delightful. And you?”
“Great for the most part.” Keane led me over to a set of chairs that looked like museum pieces from the seventies. “Just a few things I wanted to go over with you, if you have a few minutes.”
“Hmmm. Sounds alarming. What’s wrong?”
