“He doesn’t,” Declan said. “His father certainly does. Huntley Sr., after much investigation, has dealings with a nefarious set of international terrorist brokers. He would have known the name. He would have known what having a picture of Lucifer meant.”
“And you think his plan was to sell this picture to the highest bidder?” Sinead asked.
Declan nodded. “I know it was. Because I was his first call. Ten million and Mary’s address. Obviously, I refused. I told him he was ridiculous, that the picture was worthless. I didn’t know if he bought it, but I knew I had to secure it. Wouldn’t you know, a client in Shanghai had a critical situation that needed Huntley’s immediate attention?”
Sinead got it. Declan orchestrated that emergency to get into the house.
Declan—it still felt weird thinking about him with that name. But it fit. So did the voice. It was the same when he was wearing a suit or hanging out in jeans. When he was fucking her or making love to her. They were all variations on a theme, but they were all him. He was like this fascinating instrument that could play all these sounds, but at the heart of him was this true note that seemed to call to her.
“Is it all making sense?”
“Why are you concerned about the threat level?” Sinead wanted to know. “All that crap about it being dangerous for me.”
“As you correctly stated, Huntley is the least of my concern. But as we’ve been monitoring him, some of the players his father has reached out to… well, let’s say some of them are very scary. I wanted total control over everyone’s movements until they all realized Huntley no longer had the goods. The tail you lost was mine. I couldn’t take any risks. But if someone else was monitoring your movements, well… let’s just say getting my picture would be a coup. Getting me would be… on another level.”
“I know how to make a tail and I was careful.”
“Fine. Then we can all bunker down here for a while once they realize they will get neither a picture nor me, and the threat should be lifted.”
Sinead thought about what that meant. Stuck in this house with him.
“I still hate you.”
“No you don’t, love.”
She hated that he was right. She hated it when he called her his love because she’d missed him so damn much.
“I think I’ll leave you two alone,” Mary said, clearly feeling a shift in the tension between them. “Dinner will be at seven.”
She left the room and Sinead watched as the tiny blonde held her head high. Not easy to do when you had to admit you were duped by someone.
Someone who later turned around and broke your ribs.
“It’s worse for her,” Sinead said when she was gone.
“Yes it was. I take part of the blame for not being around for her enough when she needed me. I think Garrett was simply a cure for her loneliness. She wanted to believe what he was telling her, desperately.”
Sinead looked at him, standing near the bar, his hair still a little ruffled from their sex.
Was that what he had been for her? Had she been lonely, really lonely, without realizing it and he was her cure?
“I wanted to believe everything you told me, too,” she said.
He joined her again on the couch. Pressing up against her. “The only real lie I told you was my name. Which you know. Because that’s how you were able to find me.”
That pissed her off. She popped off the couch, feeling the anger that had been banked during his explanation of things fire back up again. “What about all that stuff about your friends back in London and how jaded you are about everything?”
“All of that is real. Those people are real. That’s who I am back in London.”
“So you’re lying to them, too.”
He looked weary then, she thought. Older.
“I lie to everyone, Sinead. It’s what I do. I didn’t realize how tired I was of it until I met you.”
“What am I supposed to do now?” she asked, more to herself than him. If her father were here, he would tell her to kick him in the balls and get the hell out before he broke her heart even more than he already had.
If her mother were here, she would tell her that love isn’t something that should easily be dismissed. It should be cherished instead.
“How long is this all going to take? I mean before all the bad guys realize Garrett doesn’t have the picture.”
“I believe Huntley Senior was putting together some type of auction. To do that would require having proof. Maybe showing some portion of the picture. When he can’t provide that, things will disintegrate quickly and either they—the bad guys—will take care of the problem, or I have other backup plans in place.”