by CA Quigg
No. No more lies.
She wanted Ronan to fully trust her, and this was the only way.
****
Quinn found Brendan standing by the stove cooking breakfast. A pot of coffee percolated, and pork sausages and bacon sparked in a skillet. Quinn waited by the entrance to the kitchen and watched him work. He seemed happier than he’d been when she’d first met him. For weeks, she’d pleaded with him to open the castle gates, and now here she was letting him down. Brendan wasn’t an accomplice. He was a victim. She was taking so many innocent people down with her, but she couldn’t lie anymore.
“Look at you and your spatula.” Quinn walked into the kitchen and eyed the food. “Have we unleashed a beast?”
“Ah, it’s only a fry.” He flipped some sizzling strips of bacon. “But I’ve been thinking I need to move on. My mind’s been whirring all night with ideas for menus and all of the things I could do with this place. Lily’s been a massive help.”
“Lily?” Quinn stood on her tiptoes and removed a coffee mug from the cupboard.
Brendan busied himself, rolling the sausages, but Quinn didn’t miss the flush on his cheeks. “She’s a lovely woman.”
“Is she now?” It seemed Quinn and Ronan weren’t the only two people in the castle having fun.
He nodded. “She thinks I have a little goldmine here. She’s going to help me with marketing and promotion.”
“Does this have anything to do with your wine cellar?” Quinn pinched a sausage from a platter by the stovetop and took a bite.
“I’m not saying I did, but I might have given her a tour of the cellar last night.”
“I bet that’s not all you gave her a tour of, you old charmer.”
His eyes twinkled. “A gentleman never tells.”
“What happens next week when she goes back to her champagne lifestyle?” Quinn poured herself a mug of coffee and held it to her chest.
“She’s going to spend Christmas and New Year’s here…”
“You’re a fast worker. I’m impressed.”
“For years, my heart’s known nothing but misery and grief. It’s time I let go and got on with my life.” He laid down the spatula and cracked an egg into the pan. “I like Lily. She takes no prisoners, no bullshit.”
“Damn skippy I don’t.” Lily strutted into the kitchen with Max by her heels.
“By, God, it’s a glorious day.” Brendan gave Lily a quick wink.
Quinn quirked an eyebrow at the love story unfolding in front of her and took a sip of coffee. “I guess it is.”
Lily scampered over to Brendan and wrapped her arms around his waist. How Brendan had tamed a tigress like Lily was beyond Quinn’s comprehension.
“Quinn, honey, you look shocked,” Lily said. “Aren’t us old fogies allowed to fall in love too?”
“Love? So soon.”
“The heart wants what the heart wants,” Brendan said with a happy sigh.
Ronan strolled in, and his scent wafted over her like a cool breeze on a sultry summer day. It was all she could do not to drag him back to the bedroom.
“Exactly what I need,” he said, “a greasy fry up. That’ll chase the cobwebs away nicely.”
She didn’t know if what she was about to say was the right thing. It could all backfire and leave her jobless, but she had to risk it.
With muscles as taut as a snow-laden power line, Quinn shuffled toward Ronan and squeezed his hand. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Everyone, there’s something I have to say.”
Awareness flared in Ronan’s eyes, and he closed a hand around her bicep. “Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?’
She bit the inside of her cheek. “Later. There are a few things I need to talk to everyone about.”
“If it’s what I think it is, you don’t.”
She took a deep breath. “Ronan isn’t my fiancé. I didn’t even know him until this week.”
Ronan dropped his hand from Quinn’s arm, and his eyes blazed in disbelief and anger. She’d lost him, and there was no going back.
“Meh! Tell me something I didn’t know.” Lily shrugged her shoulders and waved a hand.
Stunned, Quinn gaped at her and reached for the countertop to balance herself. “Wait. What? You knew?”
“Oh, honey, I deal with actresses every day. They could lie to the devil, and he’d buy it. And that ring on your finger. Where’d you find it? In a kid’s dress up box? You weren’t fooling anyone.”
“She fooled me.” Brendan scooped an overcooked egg from the frying pan and threw it into the trash. “I knew something wasn’t right, but not that. I thought maybe he had cold feet.”
“You.” Lily cast a stony glance toward Ronan. “Who are you? Someone she hired to play her doting fiancé?”
Ronan’s jaw tensed. The potent cocktail of emotions emanating from him all but knocked Quinn over. She’d made a mistake—a huge one.
“Ronan Donovan.” His tone was precariously low.
“Donovan, Donovan—” Lilly snapped her fingers. “Donovan Events. Didn’t your company make a pitch for the wedding?”
Ronan nodded but didn’t speak. The muscles in his cheek worked as he swallowed.
“Why’d you pretend to be her fated fiancée?” Lily continued.
“If you want to know all of the details,” Quinn said, “I’ll tell you.”
Lily poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned over the butcher’s block. “You know, now it’s out in the open, I think I do want the details. My client is shelling out thousands for this farce. I guess I should stop the wire transfer.”
“No, please don’t.” Quinn took a sip of coffee to wet her mouth. “It wasn’t his doing. I needed the job to save my business. I got into some trouble this year. I have creditors who want paid. I’d read enough gossip about Ella to know since she filmed Prophecy here she was crazy about Ireland and Irish mythology, so I figured—”
“You figured if you told her what she wanted to hear then you’d be home free.” The rhythmic click, click, click of Lily’s fingernails against her mug grated on Quinn’s unraveling nerves. “You, Romeo. If you want to save her sweet little ass, tell me your side of the story.”
Anger radiated from his tight eyes. “I found out she’d lied to win the job. I wanted to be here when she botched everything up, and then I was going to step in and take over.”
Quinn bit down on her bottom lip and wished she could take the words back. Wished she hadn’t said anything. Keeping her mouth close would have been better for everyone involved. The pieces of her heart not already broken by Brady shattered into smithereens.
“Quite the team, aren’t you?” Lily clucked her tongue. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t tell Ella.”
Quinn paced back and forth. “We can make this wedding everything she’s dreamed of. I might have lied, but I’m good at my job.”
The smell of burning bacon filled the kitchen. “I still don’t believe it,” Brendan said. “You two seemed so much in love.”
Ronan snorted.
“No one was supposed to find out,” she said, stopping in front of Ronan and reaching for his hand, “but I couldn’t lie. Not anymore.”
“Seems I’m no longer needed.” Ronan pulled away and headed for the staircase. “It’s time I left.”
“Ronan, wait, please.” Quinn ran up to the foyer after him and grabbed his arm, but he shook her off. How could this backfire on her so badly? He was behaving as if she’d killed someone. “Why are you leaving? I told the truth. I don’t understand. Lily doesn’t care. I didn’t want to lie anymore. I wanted to show you I’m not like your ex.” Even though he stood beside her, the distance between them stretched for miles and then snapped.
“Abbey? What’s she got to do with this?” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Don’t you think you should have talked to me before you spilled your guts? You don’t think I deserved to have a say about w
hether I wanted my character brought into question?”
“How am I bringing your character into question?”
“I promised not to say a word. You should have trusted me. A few more days and this charade would’ve been over. No one would’ve been any the wiser.” He tunneled his fingers through his hair. “I should never have listened to Brady.”
A heartbeat passed before she realized what he’d said. Brady! He was in league with Brady. A slap across the face would’ve shocked her less.
“You. You’re the wolf. And the ‘someone who knows someone’ is Brady. That’s how you knew. And you had the nerve to call me a liar and say I was the one using you to make your lies more convincing. More fool me. What plan did you and Brady concoct?” Her hands shook and her chest tightened. She was going to have a panic attack. How could he have done this to her? All along? All along he knew everything. So many lies. “Why did you ask questions about him if you knew?”
He ran his fingers through his already messy hair “For Christ’s sake, Quinn, forget about him. He’s not the one who’s wrecked everything for both of us. You are. One word from Lily and both of our businesses are finished. Do you know how many of my competitors would love that?” His fists repeatedly clenched and unclenched. “I’ve worked too long and too hard to have my reputation ruined by someone as desperate as you.”
“Yeah, I was desperate. Desperate enough to trust someone like you.”
“Why did I think you were different?” he spat. “Women are all the same.”
Pain oozed from her heart and soaked into every pore. She thought telling the truth would be best for everyone, but now she’d dug herself into an even deeper hole.
She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t breakdown. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as disappointed by anyone in my life, and that includes Brady.”
He turned his back on her and took the stairs two at a time.
****
Ronan charged into the bedroom and threw his clothes into his suitcase. How could he have fallen for her? Trusted her? Why the fuck hadn’t she discussed her plan with him before opening her mouth? No one needed to know. To think he’d wanted to help her. Got rid of Brady for her. He was a fool.
He zipped his suitcase and left the room. If Lily told anyone what he’d done, how he’d pretended to be someone’s fiancé, Donovan Events would become a joke. He’d call his office manager from the car and prepare her for damage control. He had to get away from the castle, weddings, and deceitful brunettes. He wouldn’t give Quinn the opportunity to manipulate him any further with her lies, her smile, or her body. He’d head to his parents’ house and say he’d come home early for Christmas as a surprise. Fuming anger consumed him, and he stormed downstairs. Quinn stood at the bottom, but he didn’t stop.
“Ronan. Wait I—”
“Save your words for some other gullible sap.”
The intensity of her stare prickled his neck, but he left the castle without a backward glance.
Black ice would cover the roads to his parents’ house, and even though every forecast had warned people to stay indoors, he wouldn’t listen. All that mattered was putting as much distance between him and Quinn as possible. If the airport was open, he’d jump on the next flight to New York.
Bitter wind whistled by and yanked his hair. He pulled his wool coat tight and hurried to his rental car. Thick clouds hung in the Arctic-blue sky, and the cold sun glistened off the snow-packed ground. The calm wouldn’t last. Another storm was rolling in, and he wanted to get out of the castle grounds before the plowed driveway filled with snow again.
His fingers rested on the door handle, but his feet turned toward the castle, his heart willing him to go back. But if he went back, the hurt on Quinn’s face might make him forgive her, and he couldn’t do that. No way. Not now. Not ever.
He got into the car, turned the ignition, and watched the snow slide down the windshield.
Snow wind-drifted over the car, and Ronan let out a stream of curses—as if the driving conditions weren’t already miserable enough. He glanced in the rearview mirror at the castle entrance and saw Quinn. Her hunched body appeared waiflike. Thoughts of getting out of the car and swooping her up in his arms looped through his head like a Hallmark movie, but as much as his heart wanted him to turn around, his mind point blank refused.
Flurries blurred Ronan’s visibility and the wipers scraped back and forth hypnotically. He’d called his brother during the drive to explain the full story—leaving out Brady’s involvement. Caden laughed and called him a flippin’ eejit. Maybe he was right.
His car slogged through the grit and snow, and the usual hour drive lasted five, which added to his bleak mood. By the time he pulled into the driveway of his parents’ house, his head, eyes, and shoulders burned from concentrating on staying alive.
A coal fire blazed in the fireplace, and the twenty-year-old Christmas tree, complete with a tattered fairy on top, twinkled by the window. He inhaled and exhaled deeply and turned off the engine. He hoped Caden hadn’t blathered to their mother about him being home. If he had, Ronan would never hear the end.
He crunched over the snow to the front door and a soothing sense of familiarity washed over him. Tonight he’d sleep in his childhood bed, and his mother would feed him to the point of bursting. He didn’t want fussing over, but it would be nice to be surrounded by people who knew who he was. Who wouldn’t betray him or make a fool of him.
He dug the key out from beneath the loose brick on the porch and let himself in. The aroma of cinnamon candles assaulted his nose, making him want to sneeze, and Dean Martin’s velvety tones told him it was cold outside. Dean wasn’t wrong. He kicked off his shoes and placed them in the basket beneath the hall table.
“Holy Mary, Mother of God, someone’s in our house,” his mother shrieked from the kitchen.
“Calm down, Ma. It’s me, Ronan.” He tried to put some enthusiasm in his voice but failed. “Surprise.”
His mother barreled toward him. Her eyes widened, and her hand reached for her mouth. “Paul, would you look at what the snow blew in?” She wrapped her arms around Ronan and pulled him into a Chanel-scented hug. The duty free perfume she asked for every birthday and Christmas.
He leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I wasn’t expecting you until Christmas Eve. I don’t have your room ready.” She gave an expectant glance behind him. “You couldn’t talk your brother into coming?”
“It’ll be the twelfth of never before Caden comes back.”
“I live in hope.”
Caden hadn’t been home since he’d left, and would never come back. He said he was fine now. Denied anything was wrong. But what had happened to him and Sarah had scarred him for life so it was up to Ronan and their other brothers Kiernan and Rian to come home whenever they could.
His dad entered the hallway with glasses perched on the end of his nose and a cup of tea in one hand. “I don’t believe it.” He sat his cup down on the hall table and gave Ronan a back-slapping hug. “This is a grand surprise. I was about to get ready for work, but I’ll give it a miss now.”
Ronan hung his coat on the rack behind the front door. “You aren’t going to go to work in that, Da. I don’t think many people will be out looking for taxis today.” Despite having four sons and three daughters who had more than enough money to allow their father to retire comfortably, their dad insisted on going out to work every day. He was a proud man and had passed his work ethic onto his children.
“It gets me out of the house for a few hours and out from beneath your mother’s feet.”
“You’ve got that right.” His mother gave his dad a playful push into the kitchen. “Well, don’t just stand there growing moss, Son. Come on. I’ll make you a cuppa, and you can fill me in on your news.”
“Nothing much has happened since we talked last week.” What could
he say? He’d blackmailed a woman into saying he was her fiancé and had fallen in and out of love.
His mother leaned against the cooker. Her gaze started at his feet and worked its way up to his hair. “Something’s up. I can tell.”
“Something’s up, all right,” he said, “I don’t have a beer in my hand.”
“It’s much too early for that.” His mother pressed a hand to her chest.
“What do you say to a wee Bailey’s?” his dad said with a pat on his mother’s bottom.
“Thanks, Da, but I’ll stick to the beer.”
Ronan warmed at his parents’ never-ending affection. After thirty-six years, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Quinn’s smiling face flitted into his mind, and his heart sank, but before his emotions overwhelmed him, he shoved her image away and accepted a cold bottle of Smithwicks from his dad.
“Sláinte.” He tipped his bottle against his dad’s wine glass full of Bailey’s and ice.
“Your sisters will be more than delighted you’re home.” His mother picked up the phone. “I’ll call them now.”
While she busied herself phoning each one of his three sisters, his dad pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “What’s troubling you, Son?”
Ronan ran a hand over the scratches on the table—some as old as him. “Nothing. Exhausted from the flight.”
“And what flight would that be? I’ve done the airport run for longer than you’ve been living, and I don’t recall a flight that gets in around this time. In fact, I didn’t even know they’d reopened the airports.”
“Leave it, Da. It doesn’t matter.”
His dad sipped the creamy drink. “Suit yourself. I won’t pry, but you know we’re here for you.”
His taste for ale gone, Ronan tore strips from the label. “Thanks. I know that.” He pushed his chair back from the table and stood with a stretch. “I’m knackered. Think I’ll head to bed for a while.”
