Chapter 22

Delaney curled up on her couch with a cup of tea. She considered calling Bronwyn to visit but figured her best friend would be out on a date. Friday night. The whole world was out doing a mating dance. Except her. With a desultory stab of her thumb on the TV remote, she flicked through the channels. Four hundred channels later, she turned it off. Feeling sorry for herself didn’t help but she wallowed in her depression anyway. Nessa always messed things up. This time Delaney had found the perfect man. Handsome. Intelligent. Wealthy. And yes, she admitted, she was shallow. She’d even tried the nerdy route, to no avail. Nessa always appeared. Beautiful, sexy Nessa with her big eyes and simpering manner. And the men in Delaney’s life always fell for her sister. Every. Last. One. Of. Them.

She glanced at her cell phone and actually wished it would ring, especially if the call came from police dispatch. Her practice, so mundane and boring, offered no challenge, though why she thought she needed a challenge was beyond her. When she’d read the ad in the paper, something clicked and she’d applied. She was an expert on PTSD, doing work at the Veteran’s Administration hospital with returning vets, and she’d done an interesting study of EMDR, too. Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing had been around enough years now that it had credence within the medical community. Luckily, the police department realized the need for their first responders to be debriefed, psychologically speaking, after a bad incident. She’d been surprised by the number of those.

Her phone rang, but it was the landline, not her cell. Nobody important called that number. Delaney waited for the answering machine to pick up. After her short greeting, her mother’s voice echoed from the speaker. She winced.

“Delaney Burns, I am so ashamed of you! Why aren’t you here? The whole family is. Except you. Your father and I and poor Nessa are making excuses for you left and right. Good heavens, do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to explain to Connor’s parents that his fiancée’s own sister couldn’t be bothered to attend their engagement party? They’ve come all the way from Ireland, Delaney. They are important people.”

She rolled her eyes, hearing the capitalization of those last two words in her mother’s voice. So typical. No one worried about her feelings. No one gave a second thought to the fact she and Connor had been dating exclusively, that he’d mentioned marriage. Until he’d met Nessa. One look at Nessa and Delaney ceased to exist. Logically speaking, she should be glad to find out what a jerk he was before things went any further, but it still hurt. Her entire family conveniently forgot that she had feelings, too.

“I’ve assured Mr. and Mrs. MacDermot that you aren’t rude by nature. I’ve excused you, claiming health issues. Migraine, so you have the story straight since we’re having lunch with them tomorrow. You will be there if I have to come and drag you there myself.”

Dead air hummed. Her mother’s hang-ups weren’t nearly as dramatic if she called from a cell phone. When she had a handset, that woman could slam a phone into the cradle with a vengeance. Delaney sighed. Typical. A command performance but once again, her mother neglected to give her pertinent details, like where and when. She heaved off the couch and padded barefoot into the kitchen to deposit the cup now filled with tepid tea in the sink. She looked around her. All she needed was a cat and she’d be the stereotypical spinster spending her nights alone. Good grief, she even wore a threadbare flannel gown and fuzzy rabbit house shoes.

“I’m a putz. A total and complete failure.” In the background, a song played on her radio—old but familiar. No one heard, so the singer said. “Boy, ain’t that the truth, though.” She fell asleep on the couch, trying not to think about the ordeal she faced the next day.

****

After a frustrating morning of unanswered phone calls and texts, Delaney finally received the location of her imminent embarrassment. Not that anyone would care how uncomfortable the situation was for her. She parked her car at the one bank branch with Saturday hours. She dashed inside with a few minutes to spare before closing time. She might be a little late to lunch but she wanted to deposit her fee check from the city and get some cash. Since her parents were hosting, she figured she could pay her own tab with the cash and escape when no one was looking.

The line moved slowly—several people deep and only two tellers on duty made for slow service. Not that she was in any hurry. Her phone dinged and she retrieved the text message from Nessa.

Feel free to bring a date.

She almost burst out laughing, but the lump in her throat refused to give way. Her sister now wore an engagement ring from the only man Delaney had dated in the last year. Bring a date? Really? She shuffled forward and debated whether to respond, upset with both the late permission and the sheer callousness. Her turn came at last, and she pushed her check, deposit slip, and ID across the cold marble counter. The teller barely looked up at her, instead remaining intent on stamping and shuffling paper before counting out five twenties. Taking the folded paper envelope, Delaney turned and buried her nose in a man’s chest. A very tall man. With long blond hair. And a really nice chest—covered—barely. The shirt he wore, unbuttoned, revealed taut abs highlighted by the crisp white cotton and dark jacket framing all of it. She forced her eyes up to his face, but they fought her all the way.

“I’m…sorry…” Her apology sighed out as she got her first glimpse of his face. For a mad, crazy, insane moment, she thought about asking him to be her escort. She could get through anything with this guy beside her and what an absolute bust to Nessa’s chops if she showed up with a man who could grace the runway of any fashion show in New York. Or Milan. Paris.

Ask him! Nothing ventured, nothing gained. He looks like he can deal with your crazy family. Her inner voice was all but jumping up and down to get her attention. The idea was completely insane. Invite a perfect stranger to a family function? But her fingers itched to get caught in the net of his gold nimbus of hair. His coffee brown eyes warmed her from the toes up as he watched her. And his lips? She remembered to breathe. And then, his mouth moved and all the air whooshed out of her lungs.

A lazy curl of his lips tugged at his cheeks, forming a smile. “Aye, ’twould be a lovely time, me thinks.”

Delaney almost swooned at his accent, but she stepped back from him, her cheeks flaming. Had she uttered that invitation out loud? He offered his arm, and she slipped her arm through it without thinking, bemused but curious. He led her outside and with a gallant flourish, placed her in the driver’s seat of her car. He leaned in, his eyes as warm and rich as Sumatran coffee. For a moment, she wondered if he was going to kiss her, and her tummy clenched in anticipation. Time with this man would alter everything. She knew that with a certainty she didn’t pause for a moment to question.

“Seatbelt?”

“Uhm…” She blinked up at him.

“Safety first, Delaney Burns. Buckle yer seatbelt, cailín.”

The tip of her tongue teased her lips and she tasted something sweet. Spun sugar. Breathe. She did, and fumbled to get her seatbelt fastened.

“Keys?”

She blinked several times, trying to focus. Keys? Oh, yes, for the car. To make it go. She dug in her purse and her fingers brushed across the hard metal edges. With a triumphant flourish, Delaney rescued her keychain from the bottom of her handbag and dangled them from her hand. “Keys,” she announced, pleased that she’d accomplished her task as she awaited his praise.

“Well done, cailín. Now put them in the infernal machine and get yee over t’the restaurant. I’ve an errand t’run first but I’ll join you there.”

“Promise?” Oh God. Had she actually pleaded with him? She wanted to bang her forehead on the steering wheel. Mortified, she could barely meet his gaze, but his smile reassured her.

“Aye, cailín. ’Tis a promise. I’ll be there, Delaney Burns, for all tha’ ’tis t’come.” He did kiss her then, but it was only a whisper of warm, dry lips across her forehead. “There, now. Our bargain ’tis sealed with a kiss.”

Her skin tingled where his lips had touched her. She blinked as she looked at him, her eyes dazzled by rainbows and bright sun. She blinked again and he was…gone. Delaney twisted her head this way and that, looking for him, but he’d disappeared. As if he’d never existed.

Her knuckles turned white where she gripped the steering wheel, and she leaned her head on them. Had her worst fear finally come to fruition? Did she have a psychotic break in the bank? She inhaled to steady her nerves and her nostrils flared. Fresh bread baking in the oven. Brownies. Fall leaves wet with rain. She breathed again. The scents remained though less noticeable now. The man. That’s what he’d smelled like. If she stood outside a bakery in an autumn rain, eating warm brownies, this is what he would smell—and taste like.

Delaney shivered. She’d had these flights of fancy since childhood. Her moments, as her mother called them, had been what prompted her interest in psychology. Self-diagnosis was foolish, but she’d always felt…different. Out of sync with her family and her world. She had one true friend in Bronwyn but her parents felt like strangers and her brother and sister seemed intent on tormenting her. Even now. The one man she’d fallen in love with was at that very moment planning a wedding with her sister.

Her phone dinged. Nessa. What now? She read the text. You have to stop by Sweet Desires to pick up the cake. Mom forgot. Before she could so much as sigh, the phone dinged again. Take cash. They don’t take credit cards. Of course they didn’t. And why would Nessa or her mother pay for it when they ordered the darn thing?

Delaney jammed the key in the ignition. In a series of fits and starts, she backed out of the parking space and headed to the bakery.

Forty-five minutes and four increasingly demanding texts later, Delaney arrived at the restaurant. She was over thirty minutes late, the only parking space left was in the very back of the lot, and the skies looked like they could open up and rain any minute. The summer had been hot and dry so any rain would be welcome, but couldn’t it wait until she was safe inside?

She managed to get the cake out of the car without damage and was only a few feet from the front door when the first drops splattered the dusty pavement at her feet. She reached for the handle just as someone inside pushed the heavy wooden door open. Delaney squealed as she danced backward and juggled the massive cake box.

“Ah, and here yee are, cailín.” The man from the bank caught the box and steadied her with a hand under her elbow all at the same time.

Delaney sighed. And then she chuckled, the sound as self-conscious as the flood of red staining her cheeks. But really, how could any warm-blooded woman not sigh around this man? “You came.”

“Of course, I did, cailín. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Come along inside. Everyone is waiting for you.” His eyes flicked over her shoulder and when she turned her head to follow his gaze, he tugged her forward. She caught sight of a shadowed figure, but she was inside and the door closed before she got more than a glimpse. A smidgeon of unease tickled the back of her neck, but then her escort beamed at her and she forgot everything but the radiance of his smile.

He led her to the private room at the back of the restaurant. Her mother and sister pounced the moment she walked through the door. She fielded their questions and tried to make sense of the hurried introductions that weren’t really introductions at all. Her mother pointed to the members of Connor’s family, said names, and then demanded to know why Delaney brought a stranger into their midst. A waiter retrieved the cake with a deft slide-and-glide move and was gone within moments. She stammered something about Nessa’s text and tried to wrap her mouth around words that made sense. Her escort slid into the breach with amazing dexterity.

“I knew Delaney’s mother must be a beauty,” he purred taking her mother’s hand and looking for all the world like he was going to kiss it. The harsh lines around her mother’s eyes softened as the woman smiled at him. He didn’t release her hand as he tugged her back toward the front table. “Delaney and I are old acquaintances, Mrs. Burns,” he explained and sounded perfectly reasonable, despite the lie.

Nessa grabbed her arm and pinched. “I didn’t send you any text. What are you trying to do, Delaney?”

She fumbled for her phone, punched it, and held the text screen up. “You did to.”

“Well…it’s not like I expected you to actually bring someone. You’ll have to pay Mom and Dad back for his lunch. I can’t believe you sometimes, Laney. First you don’t show up last night and embarrass us all and now you show up with…” Her voice drifted off a bit dreamily as she waved a languid hand toward…

Delaney’s sigh sounded like, “Argh.” She still didn’t know his name. She really needed to discover what it was before her lie was totally exposed. She watched the man steer her mother toward a side table and wondered why he kept his back to the head table. Moments later, her mother returned with champagne glasses. She kept one and offered the other to Nessa. Delaney tried not to roll her eyes. So typical.

“Evan is a musician.” Her mother positively gushed. “He’s agreed to sing something after lunch. “Please tell me he’s not one of your patients or something, Delaney.”

She managed not to flush. “No, Mother. He’s not.” Evan. So his name was Evan. And now she saw the black leather case at his feet. Violin? How had she missed that earlier? “I do know people outside of my practice.”

“At least you didn’t drag one of those awful policemen here.”

Delaney bristled at that. Most of the police officers she worked with were interesting and polite and…real. Far more so than the crowds Nessa and Keegan hung around with. She bit her tongue. Her mother wanted to pick a fight and the only way to avoid one would be to walk away. She plastered what she hoped was a pleasant expression on her face. “Excuse me. I think I’d like a glass of champagne myself.” She walked away before her mom or Nessa could say anything.

Moments later, Nessa returned to Connor’s side. Delaney had to admit that her sister glowed as she basked in the sunshine that was Connor. With a tight pursing of her lips and a warning glare, her mother followed. Delaney exhaled. She’d escaped for now but figured she’d get an earful later when Very Important People weren’t around to overhear.

A deep chuckle ruffled her hair and she turned to look at Evan. “Thank you for charming my mother, Evan.”

The chuckle rolled into laughter. “Evan is it? Nay, cailín. M’name is Abhean.”

He spelled it for her, and she tasted his name on the tip of her tongue and her lips. Her ears heard ay-veen, and she could understand why her mother thought it otherwise, given his lilting accent. And his voice. Once more, his voice reminded her of spun sugar and marzipan. She realized she was swaying closer to him then saw a gleam in his eye that unsettled her. She inhaled deeply, steadying herself, and straightened.

He chuckled again. “Aye, cailín. ’Twas ever so. A cautious soul yee have.” He leaned closer. One hand brushed the hair back from her face, and his lips teased her temple with a feathery touch. “’Twill stand you in good stead, m’thinks, cailín, with what’s to come.”

His words sent shivers scurrying down her spine, and she did her best not to show how unsettled his nearness made her feel. Delaney gazed into his eyes and became immediately lost in a swirling miasma of colors. Her body leaned closer as if it was made of metal and he was a powerful magnet. Brief glimpses of scenes caught her attention, none lasting long enough for her to make sense of them. But there was someone. A man. One she didn’t recognize, but she did.

Delaney blinked and found herself seated at the end of a table on the far side of the room—as far away from her family and the MacDermots as possible. She glanced around, confused and dazed. How had she gotten here? Where was Evan—no, Abhean. He was her date. He should be next to her, but he stood near the door, staring intently at the head table.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and a sense of unease raised goosebumps on her arms. She shivered. Something was very, very wrong here. She studied the people seated at the front of the room. Connor and Nessa reigned like a prince and princess over their court. His dark head and her fair one remained close as they leaned into each other, chatting in whispers and ignoring everyone else.

Her brother Keegan stared at the woman seated next to him, all but drooling over Connor’s twin sister. Delaney couldn’t fault him for his reaction. Ciara was absolutely stunning. She choked back a shuddering laugh as she realized Connor would have made a beautiful woman—a thought that unsettled her more than a little.

Rhea Burns talked to everyone within her sphere. The woman looked like an animated doll—perfectly coiffed and wearing a designer dress—her hands directing the conversation like a maestro. Connor’s poor mother was forced to pay attention, and she might have looked bored but for the ways her eyes kept cutting to the man next to her.

Oh. My. Delaney’s girly bits snapped to attention. Connor’s dad was so handsome every woman in the room should forego dessert and just enjoy the sight of him. Just as filling and so many fewer calories. This was the first good look she’d gotten of him. He had to be tall, judging from what she could see of his torso. Broad-shouldered and still fit looking at his age. His blue-black hair showed no hint of silver, and Delaney would bet real money the man never looked at a box of hair dye, much less used the stuff.

As she watched, both Mr. and Mrs. MacDermot tensed, their gazes snapping in unison to the same spot in the room. Delaney glanced that way and gasped. Evan—no, Abhean. He held a violin and his nimbus of hair floated around his head almost sparking with static electricity. With effort, she dragged her gaze back to Kieran and Becca MacDermot. They knew him. And they were mad as hell he was there. She slunk lower in her seat and wished she could disappear. There’d be hell to pay now, from her mother and sister.

She glanced longingly at the door and wondered if she could slip away without notice. Adrenaline surged and she focused on the flight or fight sensation tingling in her body. But she couldn’t move. As if mesmerized, no one in the room moved. No one but Kieran MacDermot. He rose to his feet, and a part of Delaney’s brain realized he was really tall.

“Abhean.”

“MacDermot.”

The two men faced each other, both stiff, neither yielding. A hush blanketed the room, and Delaney could feel the daggers thrown her way from Nessa and her mother. She refused to look at them, focusing on the two men instead.

“Why have you come then?”

“’Tis a time of joy for Clann MacDermot, Taoiseach. I come to play a blessing on the couple soon t’be wed.” And with that, he lifted his violin and bow and began to play.

As the music swelled, Delaney could almost see the notes dancing like dust motes on the air. Her body swayed with the tune, her feet tapping out the rhythm. And then Abhean sang. She lost all track of time, all sense of reality, lost in the patterns of the unfamiliar words. Gaelic. Some small part of her brain still functioning managed to identify at least that much. And the words were a vow of some sort. A vow for lovers. A vow between lovers. A vow for eternity.

A vow she would never make. She snapped out of her trance with that realization. She stared at the man fiddling and singing, his long blond hair whipping about him as gold and silver sparks shot from the silken strands. He was at once the most beautiful and most terrible being she’d ever seen.

The music crashed into silence as the doors exploded. The scene segued into slow motion. A hulking man wearing dark clothing and a mask paused at the door, the nasty-looking automatic rifle in his hands covering the entire room with broad sweeps.

The spot where Abhean once stood now shimmered like heat waves flickering above hot pavement on an August day. The musician vanished as if he’d never been there. Kieran stood tall and angry, facing the intruder while sweeping his wife behind him—a warrior once and always. Delaney’s father cowered, as did her mother and brother. Connor froze, half-standing, his hand on Nessa’s shoulder to push her below the table. He looked scared but determined, standing there in his father’s shadow. Connor’s colleagues looked almost bemused, as if this was some sort of entertainment staged for their enjoyment. But she knew better.

Surreptitiously, she dug her phone out of her pocket where she’d dropped it after her confrontation with Nessa. Luckily, she hadn’t put it back in the black void of her purse. Not daring to breathe, she turned down the volume and dialed 9-1-1. She slid it onto the table and surreptitiously flicked a cloth napkin over it, hoping it would go unnoticed.

“Man with a gun.” She breathed the words, hoping the phone’s microphone would be enough to pick up her voice. “Glen Ross Restaurant.”

“Everybody shut up!”

One of the lawyers laughed. The gunman sprayed bullets his direction, barely missing the man.

Nobody laughed now. Everyone ducked behind the tables. Everyone but the MacDermots. And her.

She recognized that voice, and her insides first turned to ice and then blazed as if hell itself opened a portal there. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat.

Dean Carter waved his assault rifle again. “I want all the women to move over there.” He jerked his chin toward the wall farthest from the door and the windows. “Now!”

She didn’t move, but the other women, hesitant, some of them crying and shaking, did as he bid. Once they’d gathered behind her, all but Beeca MacDermot who stood by her side, Carter slipped sideways, closer to them and away from the door.

“You shouldav listened to me, Doc.” His voice sounded flat, but Delaney recognized the suppressed rage hiding behind the words.

“You know this man?” Her mother, voice sharp and accusing sounded incredulous.

“Shut up! Nobody talks but me.”

He spared a glance for the women before turning his attention to the men. “Get out. All of you. Cops’ll be here before long. Tell them this won’t last long.” He pointed his gun at Kieran. “You first.” Then the barrel shifted to point at her and Becca. “Move it or this lady goes first.”

“Kieran.” Becca said his name and Delaney shivered at the emotion in that one word.

Love. Hope. Faith. Trust.

Asking and giving.

Looking like he could rip Carter in two with his bare hands, Kieran dipped his chin once in answer to his wife’s plea. He nudged Connor and helped John Burns to his feet. “Do as the man says.” Though spoken softly, his words held the whiplash of an order.

All of the men rose from their hiding places and shuffled toward the door. Kieran herded them out and turned, planting his feet wide in a warrior’s stance. “Know this. If a hair is out of place on her head, I’ll hunt you through the shades of hell itself.”

Delaney shivered at the deadly promise. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“Shut the door behind you.”

Kieran and Becca exchanged a long look, and then he reached for the edges of the double doors and pulled them closed as he stepped out.

Tears slicked the faces of some of the women, including Nessa’s. Others stood in mute terror. All but Delaney and Becca. Strength and determination radiated from the other woman, and Delaney suspected Connor’s mother was as much a warrior as his father.

“You screwed up, Doc.”