Page 28 of Blindsided
“You’re wearing pants,” I manage to say. “So that’s an improvement.”
He grins, and I notice a dimple I hadn’t seen before. Great. As if I needed another reason to stare at him. The man is walking trouble wrapped in tattoos and blessed with cheekbones that could cut glass. And I’m noticing all this while still technically married to a cheating scumbag. What does that say about me?
“You’re staring,” he points out, looking far too pleased with himself.
“I’m making sure there’s no sand in your ears,” I lie, feeling heat creep up my neck. “Wouldn’t want you getting an infection.”
“Right. My ears. That’s definitely where you were looking.”
“Shut up and take me to your castle, Murphy,”I say, pushing off from the car. “Your ten minutes started five minutes ago.”
He laughs and gestures toward the ruins with an exaggerated bow. “After you, m’lady.”
“I’m nobody’s lady,” I mutter, but start walking anyway.
The ruins are more impressive up close—ancient stone walls reaching toward the sky, archways that have somehow withstood centuries of Irish storms. The ground is uneven beneath my feet, and Kane catches my elbow when I stumble over a loose stone.
“Careful,” he says, his hand lingering longer than necessary. “Place is a death trap.”
“Comforting,” I reply, trying to ignore how warm his fingers feel against my skin.
We find the others gathered in what must have once been the great hall. A massive fireplace dominates one wall, easily large enough for me to stand in. Everyone is clustered around it, staring at something on the ground.
“What’d I miss?” Kane asks as we approach.
Declan turns, his expression grim. “We found a loose stone.”
I hang back, suddenly feeling like the intruder I am. These people are clearly dealing with something serious, and here I am, tagging along like some tourist who wandered off the path.
“What’s under it?” Kane asks, moving closer.
Wren looks up, her eyes widening slightly when she notices me. “Kori, you’re here!”
“She’s fine,” Kane says dismissively. “What did you find?”
Rory gestures to the stone floor where a rectangular slab has been pushed aside, revealing stone steps that disappear into the darkness.
“Have any of you ventured down there?” Kane asks, kneeling beside the opening.
“We were waiting for you,” Declan says. “Since you’re the one who saw my dad with the Russian.”
Kane stands up, pulls his cellphone from his pocket, turns on the flashlight, then puts his foot on the first step, but hesitates as he glances back at me. “Maybe you should wait here for this part.”
“Why?” I ask, crossing my arms. “Afraid I’ll see something I shouldn’t?”
“Yes, actually,” he admits with surprising honesty.
“Nothing can top finding a man buried alive,” I remind him. “I think I can do dark steps.”
The others exchange looks, having one of those silent family conversations that exclude outsiders. Finally, Declan sighs.
“Fine. But anything you see or hear stays between us. Understood?”
I nod, though I’m not entirely sure what I’m agreeing to. For all I know, there could be dead people down there.
One by one, we all make our way down the steps and end up in a room made of stone. A passageway looms ahead.
“There’s no fucking way I’m taking another step with just my cellphone to light the way,” he says.
