Only Declan hadn’t called. The henchman had taken Declan’s phone. Even if he’d stopped, her brother couldn’t have called. He hadn’t memorized Danny’s cell number. It was programmed into his lost phone. No, his only hope was to call as soon as he arrived and Quinn left, hoping it was enough time for the team.
In a fit of bad luck, Quinn had already departed. Once he’d been notified she was at the cabin, he’d left Diana, thinking he’d taken her only cell phone. Her first call had been to Danny. Thank the Saints.
How did she feel about her brother after that? She was hurt and wasn’t sure she could forgive him. Was she being selfish when part of her wished he’d chosen her?
She realized he had no choice unless he wanted to lose his child and the woman he’d given up everything for.
It was an impossible situation.
Moira closed her eyes again at the visual of how Quinn had described killing their unborn child. She hated Quinn with every fiber of her being. How could they have been so wrong about him? Poor Cassie, when she found out…. Moira wished she could be there for her.
After the confirmation of Quinn’s voice on the recording, Danny said he was probably responsible for more illegal dealings. He assured her that Devon, Stone, and Emily would find out.
She really didn’t care what else he’d done. He had put her brother in an unthinkable situation.
A knock sounded on the studio door, and Danny peeked his head in the room. He was so handsome and caring and gentle yet strong. And his touch made her feel more alive than she thought possible. How could she not love him?
“Your brother’s here to see you. Do you want to see him? If not, I’ll gladly toss him out on his ass.”
A smile blossomed on her face at his protectiveness. She loved that about him. Loved? Declan was here, so she should push her brother away until she figured out all her crazy emotions, but she needed to see him.
“It’s okay. I’ll see him.” It appeared Declan had followed Danny, so Danny had said those things so her brother would know he wasn’t welcome in his home.
Declan entered, rushed forward, then stopped, obviously unsure if he was welcome.
“Moira, thank God you’re safe. I’m sorry. He didn’t give me a choice. He had a gun to Diana’s temple and a wicked-looking blade at her belly. I’m sorry. I know you can probably never forgive me, but I’d planned to get Danny to rescue you, but Diana beat me to it. I’m sorry,” he said for the third time.
When she’d thought to rail at him, his words doused her anger.
“Declan, you’re right, I may never forgive you.”
He dropped his head, and his posture screamed defeat.
“But you’re my brother, my only living family. Well, except for Aunt Margaret and all her cats.”
He looked up and smiled at her words.
“I know the terrible position you were in with Quinn. It’s just going to take time for me to come to terms with you delivering me to him, even after how he threatened Diana.”
“Again, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say to make it right between us.”
“Let’s start with giving me time.” To get off the sore subject, she asked a question. “Now that Boyle is in custody, will you and Diana go back to Ireland?” It quickly occurred to her she hadn’t added “with me.” That had nothing to do with what her brother had done.
“As soon as Minister Donnelly is arrested, yeah. Our lives are there, and I don’t want to start a new one here. We’re hoping our baby will be born in Ireland.” It occurred to her if they’d planned to stay, there’d be the whole passport issue. “Are you coming or are you staying?”
She bristled. “Why would I stay?”
“I don’t know, a tall—I can say this because I’m safe in my masculinity—handsome agent who’s in love with you.”
She wanted to be flippant and say, “Oh him,” but the idea of staying was too serious. “I’m going home.” That’s what she’d wanted these past few months.
As if sensing her need to think, her brother said goodbye and left her alone.
She loved Ireland. Her home. But she’d come to love Baltimore also. She wanted to go home; she just wasn’t ready. She wanted more time with Danny.
When she and Declan left Danny’s home a couple of nights prior, all she’d thought about was whether Danny worked for Boyle and how he’d reacted to her leaving. He’d been hurt, and that somehow made her feel her brother’s information had been wrong. But her thoughts hadn’t been because of love.
When she was in the cabin, all she thought about was Danny. But that was because she knew he could rescue her. Not because of love. And when she thought Quinn might kill her after he talked to her, all she thought of was Danny. Not because he could rescue her, but because—
She straightened. Being the last person she was thinking of before death—unless it’s the killer—must mean something. Dare she say love? She couldn’t live without him and not because of her situation. She couldn’t leave because she couldn’t leave Danny.
It boiled down to her being in love. Her body lightened as if a heavy weight had been lifted. It must’ve been denial.
“I love him,” she acknowledged out loud. Then excitedly, she said, “Oh, I have to tell him.”
“Tell who what? Do I need to get Declan back? Please say no.”
Dumbfounded, she stared.
Danny shifted his feet like a schoolboy. “I just came to check on you. I don’t know how things ended with your brother, but I wanted to be here for you.”
How sweet and thoughtful. This man was perfect. “Yes,” she blurted.
“Yes, you need me to get Declan?”
She shook her head and settled the butterflies in her stomach. “I
