Quickly, I delete all the photos and the message thread. I hit the call button, perched on the edge of the bed as the phone rings, feeling a little crazed as I wait for him to answer.
His voice is sleepy when he does. “It’s barely five in the morning, lass,” he groans. “Not that I’m not happy to hear from you any time of day or night. But if you want an encore, you’ll have to let me wake up a bit more, if you take my meaning.”
“You need to delete those pictures,” I say, my voice a desperate whisper. “I shouldn’t have—I can’t believe I—”
There’s silence on the other end for a moment. “Ah, Saoirse,” he says finally. “I worried you might have regrets. I should have stopped you last night, not egged you on. I—”
He doesn’t have to say more, we both know what the unspoken words are. As the sober one, he should have stopped it, but he wanted it too badly to do so. Just like I did.
“I already deleted them,” he says a moment later. “I had a feeling you’d ask that of me, and besides, it’s not wise to have pictures like that of you on my phone, no matter how much I’d like to look at them again.”
I go very quiet. I don’t know what to say to that—that he was gentlemanly enough to wipe away the evidence without my even having had to ask, despite the fact that Iknowhe didn’t want to. “Thank you,” I whisper finally.
“It’s nothing,” Niall says. “Don’t worry, I committed them to memory first,” he adds with a chuckle. “I’ll never forget last night.” His voice is more serious now. “Whatever else happens between us, lass, that was something I’ll remember often.”
“Niall—”
He cuts me off. “There’s something you should know, Saoirse,” he says quietly, and I wonder if he’s about to tell me he’s met someone else, or that he thinks we should stop altogether.
“What?” I whisper, and there’s quiet for a second.
“Connor found out that Max married Liam and Ana,” Niall says slowly. “A defrocked priest marrying them might still be legal in the eyes of the state with the right ordaining, which Max surely has, but not in the eyes of the Kings. He told Viktor to relay that information back to them. The Kings, that is.”
I feel slightly dizzy, clutching the phone tighter. “What—what are you saying?”He can’t mean what I think he does.
“He’s offered you back to Liam, if he admits that the marriage was done improperly, sets Ana aside, and follows through on his original promise to marry you. Then Liam keeps the seat, his heirs are pleasing to the Kings, and Connor goes back to London.”
I actually feel as if I’m about to pass out. “He can’t—do that. Can he? And if I went back to Liam—you—”
“That would be the end of any chance for anything between you and I, lass, that’s true.” There’s a rough, painful note to Niall’s voice as he says it that hurts to hear. “I can’t touch you if you’re Liam’s. But I think that’s not what you’re most upset about right now.”
The way he cuts to the very heart of it, no matter how much that truth must hurt him, feels like a knife to my chest—because it’s true. It’s not the idea of losing my chance at enjoying pleasure with Niall, though I feel a wash of disappointment at that thought, but the idea that Connor could barter me back so easily, as if I didn’t mean anything to him. As if he’d just as soon go back to London as marry me, and hand me back to his brother. As if the idea of Liam being the one to claim my virginity after all, instead of him, means nothing.
I remember the strange tone of his voice last night when I’d mentioned our wedding night, and it suddenly makes sense.
“I—I don’t know what to say,” I whisper. “Liam won’t do it.”
“No, he won’t,” Niall agrees. “And Connor’s plan means nothing anyway, because Liam had the marriage blessed by the priest at St. Paul’s while you and your father were in London. He wanted to wait for Father Donahue to do it, but since it seemed expedient and he was already working with the priest to have his father re-interred in the cemetery, he thought to kill two birds with one stone, as it were. So Connor’s discovery isn’t the big wrench in the plans that he thinks it is.”
I feel faint all over again, but for a different reason—relief mixed with the lingering hurt that regardless of whether itworked, Connor still was willing to barter me like a prize heifer. “So why did you tell me?” I snap, my voice slightly accusatory. “To scare me?”
“No, lass,” Niall says gently. “Because I thought you should know what Connor was willing to do, to have his old life back. Because I know no matter how you fight it, and no matter what there might be between us, you have feelings for him. You should know the truth of the man you’re about to marry, all of it.”
I let myself sit with that for just a moment. “You’re right,” I murmur finally. “I’m glad you told me. Even if—it does hurt to know.”
“I hope you’re not angry with me, lass.”
I shake my head, even though I know he can’t see it. “No, I’m not angry with you.”
“Good. Now lass, I need sleep. You wore me out last night.” There’s a teasing note in his voice, trying to lighten the mood, but I feel as if there’s a weight on my chest.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Bye, Niall.”
“I’ll talk to you later, lass.”
I set the phone down, all too aware of how careful he was not to say the wordgoodbye. I’ve noticed that words seem to mean something to Niall, more than to most. He’s careful to try to say the right thing, to not speak out of turn, to consider his words. It’s a rare trait for a man so steeped in violence, who’s job is to do the bloody work Liam doesn’t wish to do, to protect Liam and fight with him or even for him if need be.
I lay back in bed, tossing my phone aside as tears well in my eyes. I’d known that Connor wasn’t going to love me. I’d known that any hopes I had for passion or romance in my marriage were not going to be fulfilled in him. I’d accepted that as part of our bargain, even if I wished sometimes it could be otherwise.