Page 43 of Three Irish Kings
“My father.” I puff my chest. “Or, rather, Liam’s father. He took me in as a sprout.”
“Can’t imagine you ever being a sprout.”
I chuckle. “I was a skinny, small kid. Didn’t grow up and out until I was a teenager.”
Her eyes widen. “You, small? What are you, six-five?”
“Six-four.”
She hums. “Bet you don’t have trouble reaching shit.”
I look at her, surprised.
She’s trying to make small talk. Is this her way of seducing me, because it’s not going to work. I’m not much of a talker.
As the day goes on, though, I realize this woman is a talker. She just won’t shut up, babbling about her married best friend and how her best friend may get pregnant soon, has been going through IVF.
I should really not know this much about her, and it’s all a cover story, anyway, so why is she stilltalking?
“And I moved to the city when I was nineteen. For work.” She paces around the house.
I watch her, sitting down on the couch at this point, tired just watching her flitting around like a hummingbird.
“And what is it that you do?”
She pauses. “I’m in investment banking.”
I scoff. “No, you aren’t. I know you’re Maggie Sullivan. Why keep up the act?”
I’m really curious at this point. Why would she continue to lie to me? The jig is up, and we’ve told her and proven to her we won’t hurt her.
Isla huffs. “Because I’mnother.”
“Please. You might as well give it up.”
It’s not like I expect her to come clean or anything, but what she does next confuses me.
She stalks over to me, lifting her shirt. She’s wearing a pair of sweats and a camisole, so it reveals her flat stomach, the very underline of one of her breasts.
My eyes rove over her body, unable to stop myself, and she points to a long, white scar across her abdomen.
“Open appendectomy when I was sixteen. I thought I had food poisoning, and it almost burst. Does Maggie Sullivan have that scar?”
“It means nothing.”
But does it? I never read anything in Maggie’s history about an appendectomy, and I’m pretty sure her medical records were attached. But like I told Liam, I didn’t read the whole thing. All I needed to know is what she looks like.
I can’t remember everything I did read, but this certainly wasn’t in it.
I’m shaken by it, just like I’m shaken by her beauty and her closeness.
She seems to keep getting closer and closer to me as I stare at the scar.
“You’re playing with fire, you know.”
She shrugs. “Maybe I like a little heat.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
