“What is?” asked Liam, instantly alert.
“This place, it’s so adorable.”
She was right. The place was small and although crowded, it came off as quaint, full of lovers sipping espresso and basking in the aroma of garlic and basil.
Cullen shot me a look and I knew he was still ticked I’d invited Penelope and his brother to tag along on our romantic date.
“So,” I said, swallowing the wine in my mouth quickly in an effort to change the subject. “How is everyone’s meal?”
My wine glass was empty again. I was drinking too much, too fast. I hoped my words weren’t slurring.
“These oysters are to die for. You should try one, Liam,” Penelope said, practically shoving it in his face.
Liam turned his cheek just in time and narrowly missed getting slimed. Looking annoyed, he quickly tore at the bread he was holding, dipped it into the oil and vinegar, and shoved it in his mouth. He was sitting next to Cullen, across from Penelope, and was now avoiding looking at her. I should have invited Cullen’s cousin Ewan. It was obvious Liam wasn’t a fan of Penelope’s charming personality. I turned my head, whispering playfully in her ear, “Settle down, Jezebel.”
She grinned. “So what are you boys doing Friday before the rehearsal dinner? You have to be out of the house, right?”
“Why?” Cullen asked.
I cut in. “Aedeen, the hair and makeup lady Móraí hired, is doing a trial run. You don’t really have to leave,” I quickly added, thinking the boys seemed oddly quiet tonight, or maybe I was the one acting unusual. I hadn’t drunk this much in a very long time.
I pushed my plate away. “I’m going to the restroom. Penelope, did you want to come?”
“No,-” she started and I kicked her under the table. “On second thought, maybe I’ll join you.”
I stood off to the side, allowing her to slide out of the bench we shared. The room swayed for a second, then I was fine.
As soon as the bathroom door swung shut behind us, I realized I’d left the letter in my purse at the table.
“All right, what was so important that you had to give me a contusion on my ankle?”
“I wanted you to read that letter for me, but I left it at the table.”
“Why can’t you read it?”
“I did. I mean I started to—but I cry every time I even open it. It’s a little disturbing, thinking that my fiancé might be my stalker.”
“It’s sort of hot,” Penelope argued. “That bad boy thing.”
I tried to look menacing, but I knew she was teasing me. “You’re hopeless. Anyway,” I said, turning back toward the door. “You’re just gonna have to come back to the house with me. You can spend the night.”
“No way,” she said, reapplying her lipstick in the mirror.
“Why not?”
She gave me a long and measured look. “You know why.”
“You didn’t cancel your date.”
“Uh-uh.” She smiled. “I just postponed it.”
“So who is this guy?” I lowered my voice as a woman joined us in the bathroom.
“Can’t tell.”
“What, is he married and in politics or something?” I noticed in the mirror that my cheeks had flushed. Dealing with Penelope was like dealing with a teenage girl.
“He’s a hunk, is what he is. He said I could tell you Saturday.” Penelope smiled. “Think of it as your wedding present.”
“Oh, lucky me. Why would he say that? Do I know him?” I asked, thinking of Cullen’s family. She had been kind of flirtatious with one or more of Cullen’s cousins.
“Oh no, I’m done answering your questions,” she said, racing through the door before I could stop her.
Liam had his napkin unfolded and was mopping his forehead when we returned. His hand was trembling slightly.
“Everything all right, Liam?”
“Oh, sure,” he said. “I think dinner is disagreein’ with me, though. Cullen’s payin’ the bill.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll go pull the car around; the fresh air will do me good.”
I nodded and watched Liam head for the exit, then I dug into my purse and slapped the letter into Penelope’s hand. “Hurry up and read this, before we go.”
“Right here?” she protested.
“Yes,” I grunted in a tone that was bordering on hysteria.
She unfolded the letter and I watched her eyes scan the first page.
“Now, there’s my lovely Aeval.” Cullen’s voice rang out as he rounded the corner of the bench, swirling the ice cubes around in his nearly empty glass. He moved to stand behind me, and, gently resting his hands on my shoulders, began to massage the back of my neck with his thumbs. “We’re all paid up—let’s head home and finish this evenin’ off right.”
He looked at Penelope, who was scrambling to fold the letter and shove it away.
“What’s that?” he asked, looking from her to me, and I thought that he must be one of the few people in the world who could look dangerous and extremely innocent all at once.
“Nothing. Just one of the travel reviews Penelope was working on.”
“Are we going?” said Penelope, jumping to her feet while quickly pulling on her coat.
“Penelope has a hot date tonight,” I explained.
“So it’s just us then. Liam’s under the weather.”
“I guess so,” I said, nodding. Cullen seemed awfully cheery now, and Penelope looked like she’d swallowed a poison pill.
We walked outside and Cullen guided me toward a cab.
“Where are we going? Liam’s car is right there.”
“Liam’s not feelin’ well, so we’re gonna take a cab home.”
He pushed me into the cab, pinching my butt as I stumbled into the seat.
Penelope was right behind us.
“Oh, Penelope, he’s still gonna drop ye off at the hotel since it’s just around the corner.” He leaned forward, about to pull the car door shut. “Have fun tonight with yer man. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“But—” she said.
“It's okay, Penelope,” I said, waving, realizing she probably wanted to give me back my letter. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. Don’t be late.”
It was too dark to admire the countryside so I retreated into the interior of the cab, avoiding Cullen’s gaze the best I could. How was it possible to feel so many conflicting emotions for this man? Love. Fury. Misery. And fear, which would not listen to reason. I knew in my heart that Cullen was no killer. The thought was ludicrous. But if he wasn’t, then why did he have that matchbook hidden in his drawer? I shuddered violently.
Part of me wanted to beg him to put his arms around me and hold me tight, but even as I glanced in his direction, a quiver of fear shot through me.
We came to a full stop and I slid out, tripping three times as I hurried inside while Cullen paid the driver. I was just slipping a nightgown over my head as he came into the bedroom.
“Flannel? What’s this?” he asked mockingly.
He’d unbuttoned his shirt and my gaze perused his abs all the way down to the top of his jeans.
I gave him a modest smile, slid my feet into the white padded slippers and then tripped over his foot as I tried to lurch past him into the hall.
I landed at his feet. My cheeks burned. He reached down to help me up and managed somehow to pin me to the wall as he did so. He was much taller than me, and my hands reached out to feel his hard chest muscles. We had such great chemistry; I didn’t want to face the fact that he could be the man obsessed enough with me to kill me.
“Ye’re ossified, luv. I’ll help ye.”
“Ossafff…I’m not drunk. I drink wine all the time. I’m just buzzed.”
His face was close to mine, his fiery green gaze hot and probing. The stubble on his face was a mixture of red, brown, and silver and gave his face such a rugged look. And his smell, especially from this close range, was intoxicating.
“Were you goi
ng to get a glass of wine?”
“No, I was going to grab some water and aspirin.”
I glanced to my right; we were by the study door. Anger flashed in my belly.
“Sophia-luv, is something wrong?”
“Did you kill Nick?” I blurted, turning around to face him. It wasn’t what I’d meant to say; it just slipped out of my mouth.
Cullen looked around as if he expected candid camera to jump out. His muscles glistened in the eerie, low lighting of the hall. Did he have to look so damn attractive right now?
“How can ye ask me such a ridiculous question?”
Too late to backtrack now. I stomped into the study, flicked on the lamp and pulled open the drawer.
“I found this today,” I said, trying to sound very sober.
“What—” Cullen began.
“The matchbook with Nick’s flat number on it. This one,” I said, tossing it at him. My voice rose; it was as if something inside me had torn open, and everything was pouring out, all my fears, all my pent-up rage. “Do you want to explain how it got in your desk? And don’t bother playing stupid.”
“Stupid, am I?” he snapped back. “Well I’ve never seen this wee book before, but it’s really nice to hear that ye got it from yer ex. A tidbit of news ye forgot to share, I see.”
“Oh please—it wasn’t like that. He gave it to me and I never planned to use it. I thought I lost it. Now I know you took it.”
“I did no such thing. Anyway, I’m not the only one who’s been in here, maybe someone found the matchbook on the floor somewhere and tucked it away. Not everything is all sinister, ye know.”
Despite his words, his face still looked dark and angry.
“I…I really need to get some water and go to bed.”
“I’ll carry ye.” He stepped toward me.
“Don’t touch me,” I protested. The room was spinning.
I opened my eyes and realized I had reached out to him and was now clutching his shirt. I let it go and took a step back. “Are you going to try to tell me that you didn’t threaten Nick that day in the kitchen?”
“The kitchen. Sophia, I was trying to protect ye.” His eyes burned.
“Well, maybe the person I need protection from is you!” My voice cracked. “And since when are you interested in reading up on my family?” I pointed to his bookshelf.
“Sophia,” Cullen said, “I have no idea what ye’r goin’ on about—”
“Gigi’s cousin,” I said. “Loni Switzer—my cousin who was murdered fifteen years ago after writing about our family and the Delhi Sapphire.”
Shocked speechless, Cullen stared at me. “Switzer,” he said finally. “Yes, ye’r right. I do know the name, but it’s not what ye think—”
“You didn’t kill her and keep the book as some sick token?”
“How can ye say that?” Cullen cried. “I would never hurt some poor lass. Besides, I was only a lad, for goodness sake.”
“Well, tell me then, Cullen, why is her book on your shelf!” I shouted with vehemence.
“Someone mailed that book to me. There was no name and no return address. I don’t know who it was for or why it was sent here, and it sure as hell didn’t mean anything to me, which is why I chucked it, or at least I thought I did. Apparently we have wee ghosts pulling things out of the rubbish these days. I had no bloody clue it was even about the Delhi Sapphire or yer family. I thought it was sent here by mistake.”
“Well, that’s all fine and good, but there’s something else, too.” My voice shook as I said it. Was I really afraid of Cullen?
“What?”
“I’m going to be sick.”
Cullen swore and moved fast, scooping me up and propelling me into the bathroom connected to our bedroom.
“Let me help you.”
“No.”
I managed to push him out of the bathroom. My stomach rumbled and I just made it to the toilet in time.
Afterward, I felt much better although I knew I was in for a nasty hangover in the morning. I drenched my face in cold water and rinsed out my mouth before brushing my teeth.
“Sophia!”
Cullen was tapping on the door.
“I’m all right,” I said, coming into the bedroom and sitting down on the side of the bed.
He nodded, still watching me. Then he walked to me and my heart started to thud. I hated the fact that even now, just watching him, I wanted to feel his hands all over me. We had entirely too much chemistry, and I had had entirely too much to drink.
He kneeled in front of me and put his hands on my thighs. My flesh burned. My heart was pounding way too loud. I turned my head to look away from him. I could see he’d got me a glass of water and two small white pills. He was so thoughtful. How could he be a cold-blooded killer? I tilted my chin back toward him. His eyes were steady.
“I know ye're mad at me luv, but I was told to never go to bed angry.”
He got to his feet, leaned forward, and kissed my forehead.
I wanted to leave it at that. I should have just waited for morning, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.
“Nick left me a letter.”
His gaze was locked on me.
I swallowed. “He said he hired a private investigator to look into your life. He said you raped someone but the cops couldn’t prove it, and that you were suspected in the death of another.”
Cullen took a step away from me. “Oh, I did all that, did I? And ye believe him over me? And when did I supposedly do all this?” he demanded tersely. His voice was now louder than mine.
I stared at him, irritated to realize that I was trembling. “I don’t know.” I was crying now. “I just caught words and phrases. I didn’t read it all yet, but that was the gist of it.”
“Well, where is this scandalous letter? Let’s have at it.”
“I gave it—” I stopped speaking.
His eyes narrowed. Heat seemed to radiate from his bronzed chest. “So that’s what ye two were lookin’ all serious about after dinner. What, does Penelope think I’m a mad rapist too?”
I moistened my lips. “I don’t know. You came along and we didn’t get a chance to talk. But don’t change the subject. Even if Nick was making up half that stuff, it’s easy enough to uncover the truth and there must be some basis to it. So tell me the truth, were you ever committed to a hospital?”
A light flashed in his eyes, like I’d hit a nerve. He got chillingly calm. It was a calm that reminded me of the time I poured hot tea into a glass, not realizing it would crack and burn me. His face was expressionless, but those fiery green eyes looked as if his false composure might give at any time.
“Go to bed, Sophia!”
What was I thinking, confronting him like this?
My phone rang; it was Leslie. I stood and pushed past him into the bathroom, contemplating answering it, but instead I let it go to voicemail. When I turned around Cullen had stormed out of the bedroom and I could hear him descending the stairs. It was probably better that way—let him cool down. My body shuddered. We’d had a few drinks at the restaurant and fighting when alcohol was involved was never a smart idea.
My phone pinged and I looked down at the incoming text. It was from Les. She was probably packing for her flight. At least I’d get to see her soon. She was arriving early in the morning.
Have you seen Twitter?
No. I quickly typed back.
Bexx Senior’s been brought in for questioning. Rumour is he’s a suspect.
I started to text her back. And then it occurred to me that maybe Bexx Senior had written the letter…maybe he’d sent the book. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but what if he was framing Cullen or even me?
I ran after Cullen just as his truck started up, but by the time I got to the door, all I saw were the circular orbs of his taillights surrounded by the darkness of night.
FORTY-ONE
A nn invaded my sleep once again. She haunted my subconscious. I wanted to wake, but couldn’t. Str
ange how I always knew that I was dreaming. I kept seeing her fighting for her life. Blonde hair caked with blood and still she fought, but I could never tell with whom. It was someone familiar but the closer I got, the more distant he grew. I needed to follow up with Garda Lynch to see if there was a connection. Maybe I shouldn’t want to wake. Maybe I needed to pay attention for once.
Loni was now floating like a ghost, leading me through the underground tunnel beneath the Colley property. We exited and were in the graveyard outside of the church. She was trying to tell me something, trying to warn me. I strained to hear her, to listen. Loni kept floating away. I followed.
She’d led me to someone’s front door. I knew this door…
I woke with a start, shaking. I knew that door. It had come to me at the last second. Was it the killer’s door? Was it Cullen’s door? The harder I tried to remember, the less I could.
There was light in the room. I’d forgotten to close the drapes, and rosy illumination bled in. I looked to the other side of the bed but it was still made, with no sign of Cullen.
My stomach dropped. “Oh lord, what have I done?”
I grabbed my cell to call him. Where was it? Not anywhere around here, might as well get some coffee. Hell, coffee had to be an improvement over this. Surely Tylenol would help, too. Hadn’t Cullen gotten me some? I couldn’t remember taking it.
I started the coffee to brew and sat back on the couch. A merciless drumming beat in my head—or wait a minute—was someone at the door?
Leslie and the makeup artist peered and waved through the glass. Was it that time already? My hair was a wild mess, my robe was tied off kilter, my feet were bare, and I hadn’t even brushed my teeth.
I rushed to open it—well I moved as fast as possible without falling over. “I’m so sorry. I slept in.”
Leslie took one look at me and motioned for Aedeen to go get set up upstairs. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
I followed Leslie into the kitchen and plopped down at the table as she pulled bread from the refrigerator and popped it in the toaster. As the bread toasted, she poured us each a mug of coffee and ran one upstairs for Aedeen. The toast popped just as she returned and she set it in front of me with a knife and a container of butter. Then she grabbed some cookies from the jar before taking a seat across from me.
Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 42
