Page 138 of A Convenient Secret

The minute the car stops, Zoya jolts up. “We awehewe.” She rushes from the car, running across the driveway to the entrance.

Saar opens the door. “Zoya!” She opens her arms.

We stay for a moment of idle chatter in the kitchen while Corm carries Zoya around on his shoulders, and she giggles.

“Okay, let’s go,” Declan says, while Corm gallops out to the patio.

“So, you two got married?” Saar asks, before I have a chance to catch up with Declan.

“Not like you and Corm.” I shake my head, tired of the layers and layers of explanations my life needs.

“My marriage started unconventionally too.” She puts her arm around my shoulder as we walk outside.

“Declan is set in his ways; this is a lot for him to digest.” I watch as he opens the car door but doesn’t get in, waiting for me. Always the gentleman.

“He will adjust.”

“Let’s hope.” It’s like after all this time with him, I feel dreadfully lonely again.

She smiles and wraps me in a hug. “I’m sorry about everything today.”

I lean into her embrace, because I can use all the friendship energy available. “Thank you.”

The car turns into the ramp for the underground garage, and two men jump in front of it, jolting us to a stop. Several others swarm around us, cameras clicking.

“Jesus.” Declan pushes the button. “Drive over them.”

Our car proceeds slowly, but after a certain point they would be trespassing, so we enter the garage.

“I’m sorry,” I say as he helps me to get out.

“Stop that, Lily. You have nothing to be sorry about. I just wish I was better prepared for all this shit.”

His rage came from that place deeply encoded in him, the place that craves control. That needs it to survive. This caught him off-guard. At least he’s not mad at me. I hope.

We enter the penthouse in silence, and Declan goes to the alcohol cabinet immediately. Not sure what to do, I remain at the base of the stairs.

With one glass of whiskey in his hand, he walks to the wall of windows and stares out for a moment.

I take a few steps toward him, my heart galloping, my stomach constricted. He turns and locks me in his gaze. It’s familiar, and strangely alien.

He walks toward me, slowly, like he isn’t sure if he wants to get closer. Like he’s deliberating how wide the gap between us should remain.

But at least he doesn’t stop until he gets to me.After taking a sip of his drink, he hands it to me.

A hesitant wave of relief floods me as I take the whiskey and let the liquid swirl around my tongue. It’s sweet and spicy, and the taste will forever remind me of us.

He takes the glass from me and puts it on the coffee table. “Let’s start with this.”

Pulling me into his arms, he lowers his lips to mine. The kiss is languid, painfully gentle, but also insistent. It’s healing and reverent, and I welcome it with equal relish.

My head spins with the pure emotional charge, so poignant, so unexpected, so right. Declan sighs and holds me tighter, before he leads me to the sofa and picks up the whiskey again.

We sit beside each other and take a small sip each.

“Why did he say he is your fiancé?”

“My grandmother isn’t a good woman. My grandpa lost his first wife when my father was born. He married again and had a daughter. Daddy’s stepsister always believed she deserves more, and Granny was equally thirsty for the Spinelli fortune.