“The only thing I regret was not being the one to walk away, staying even though I knew it was over. I knew what was happening, but there was a part of me still too afraid of what life would be like outside of my marriage. Even then I knew it was stupid, as I didn’t need him. It was just safe behind the wall of saying I was married when people asked for things or came on to me. I was relieved when he left, because even though I thought I was safe behind the wall, really I was suffocating behind it, and finally I could breathe again.
“Once he moved on, he moved on, and he was quite generous in the end. The settlement was far more than I would have expected from him. He really just wanted me to sign the papers and go away quietly, which I was more than content to do.”
“So he did not break your heart, my dear?” Declan’s words were soft and sincere, and her answer seemed important to him.
Sadly, she shook her head. “I did care about him, but the time when I might have grown to love him kept getting interrupted by his controlling and demanding habits. It was my fault too. I married him not sure I loved him but believing it would come, and that wasn’t fair to him either.”
He seemed satisfied at her answer. “Ah, love and marriage. My uncle tells me marrying for love is the stupidest thing a person can do. My da told me it was the only way to marry. I wonder often myself. My da married for love and his bride ran away, never to be found. My uncle married because my aunt’s father wanted to be rid of her, and he settled a tidy packet on my uncle and they’re still married to this day. True now, they live in separate houses, and if you mention one to the other it’s sure to set off curse words, but who’s to say.
“Tell me what led you to go into accounting and not into business of the market with your ex-husband?”
“Michael did suggest a switch, but I had a plan in motion already. I researched long and hard what degree would allow me to be my own boss and in control of my work and workday. No matter what, people need an accountant, even if it’s just at tax time. I had plans that once children came along, I could maybe work part-time, or just a few hours a week, or maybe even at some time open my own business. I just wanted something that would allow me the most options wherever my life would take me. I was lucky that once I went into the program, I actually liked it.” Finishing her wine, she hoped she didn’t sound as wistful as she thought she did.
“I’m impressed. You managed to finish your wine at the same time as your meal. This indicates a very controlled and careful personality. Are you going to allow yourself dessert, I wonder?”
“Hmm, and I thought Jung wasn’t one for you Irish.” She leaned back in her chair and placed her napkin beside her plate. It annoyed her that he was making a study of her and was so damn good at it. “If dinner was this good, I’m looking forward to dessert.”
His smile went wide, and he picked up his plate and her own and left the room. She exhaled with relief as he left, and wiped her sweating palms on the napkin. He knew just how and when to apply pressure to the best effect. She longed to escape his intoxicating pull, and made a plan to not finish her dessert, to put an end to it as soon as possible.
“Here we go. It seems we have a selection.” Setting down a large platter that contained several different tiny tarts he placed a small plate in front of her with a bow.
Her attention was taken up entirely by the delectable and ridiculously pretty tarts. The idea of eating them seemed absurd. There were two of each: a lemon tart, a fruit tart, a chocolate tart, and a cheesecake tart with a thin strawberry on top.
“Changed your mind?”
“No, but—”
“But what?”
“They’re too pretty to eat.”
Rich, throaty laughter chased down her tummy, and he was even more beautiful, and the air went out of her completely. He looked up, and their eyes met, and she knew he could read her reaction to him. He went still, and his eyes fell to her lips, and it became harder to breathe. His cell phone rang, startling her out of her reverie, and she forced her gaze back to the tarts, but not seeing anything but the hunger in his eyes. The ringing stopped, but he didn’t answer the phone, and she looked up in surprise.
“It was nothing important. Please take one, darlin’, and enjoy it. Something so pretty should not go unappreciated.” Declan’s voice was husky, and his eyes were back on her lips.
Reaching for the chocolate tart, she almost winced at the sight of her trembling hand. She brought the tart to her mouth and
took a delicate bite. Her taste buds were flooded with a creamy, delicately sweet velvet dream of chocolate. Miranda licked her lips, and she watched his jaw clench. She finished the small tart, but it was harder to swallow when she realized her mouth was completely dry. Her response began to overwhelm her, and she tore her eyes away and reached for the glass of ice water. “It was excellent, but I’m afraid that was enough for me. I like sweets but I hate working out, and I’m sure that managed to exceed what I might have burned walking today. Thank you for dinner, but I think it’s time I got to working through the books.”
She stood, grateful her shaky legs held her up as she crossed to the desk she had worked at the day before. She was relieved her request not to move things around had been honored, and forced herself to focus on her task and not the man behind her, despite the fact she could feel his eyes burning into her. Pulling the ledger closer to her, she made a show of studying it, but it was all a show. Her body was concerned only for the feel of his eyes on her. At last she could move, and only a moment later she heard his steps on the wooden floor walking away from the room.
Chapter Five
The time passed much as it had the previous night. She heard him promise someone a recommendation for a job, and another caller was seeking help with a landlord who wouldn’t make a repair.
It felt like only a half-hour later, but as she stood and stretched, she could see it was over two hours since she’d begun. She moved to his desk, triumphant that she had found the skimmer or rather, skimmers. He looked up as she drew near, and he set down his pen, giving her all his attention.
“I found them.”
“Them?”
“Them, it’s Shannon Tanner and Ian Cormac. It seems to be Shannon Tanner as the primary, but Ian couldn’t not know what he’s doing. Several of the entries are signed off as Ian but are in Shannon’s writing. The handwriting is close, but both eights and fives are no one’s but Shannon’s. There are also several entries made in Ian’s hand that are exactly the tally Shannon had entered previously, which couldn’t possibly be correct based on the days. The ledger before this started showed a very cyclical routine. Mondays almost as heavy a take as Saturday, but nearly dead on Sunday, and while Tuesday was quiet, it built up to Friday. Yet almost a week to the day after Shannon begins making entries, they don’t match what they had been previously. I’ve put everything down that point to the both of them.”
Declan motioned he didn’t care. “Shannon is involved in both pubs, so he has to be skimming from both, but Ian is only at The Black Swan. How much, Miranda? How much do you believe they’ve managed to skim away?”
“I can’t say for certain. I don’t really feel comfortable answering that question.” He was no longer the enticing and seductive man of two hours ago. He was coldly businesslike, and a shiver snaked up her spine.
“How much, Miranda?” It was a demand.