“Dance with me, Lachlan. Dance with me in Dublin.”

His face, normally so stern, has changed tonight. He has changed tonight. When he takes my hand and pulls me into the crowd of dancing Irish men and women, a smile turns his mouth into the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“You’re beautiful,” I tell him. I’m drunk and I don’t care.

“Men aren’t beautiful.”

“Lies. All lies. Because you are.”

He spins me as we pretend we know this Irish jig, and brings me back against his hard body. “We’ll agree to disagree.”

“Fine. But I’m still right.”

His smile brightens the entire room. I swear it could light a pitch-black sky. He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Not right, but priceless all the same.”

“Pssh. We both know my price. You found it.” The answer flies from my lips without thought, my filter gone, thanks to the booze.

He jerks back, staring down at me, all humor gone from his face. “Don’t you say that. Because that is pure bullshit. I couldn’t buy you with every penny I have.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Whatever you’re thinking, I promise, you’re wrong.”

I’m thinking that I’m in big trouble because my heart is tumbling out of my control as the man who once terrified me now stares at me with warmth and admiration in his gaze.

“Careful, Lachlan. You wouldn’t want to get attached to me.”

His lips lower, stopping a breath from mine. “Too late.”

* * *

I jerk awake, expecting to feel a solid man against me, but he’s not there.

“Where is he?”

“Ms. Kilgore, are you okay?” The nurse holding my chart tucks it away and comes toward the bed. She’s blond.

Instantly I tense. “I’m . . . I’m . . .” I trail off because I have no freaking clue what I am anymore. But okay is not it.

“Is the pain getting worse?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.” She heads for the IV drip, but I don’t trust her. I don’t trust anyone I’ve seen in this room except Temperance and my parents.

Where the hell are you, Lachlan? I need you.

“Mom? Tell her I’m okay. I don’t need more drugs. I can stay awake.” My voice sounds weak, but she’s the only defense I have against this unidentified blond woman.

My mom jerks awake. “What? What’s going on?”

“I’m just going to adjust her meds, then take her down for a test.”

“A test?” My mom sits up straighter in the reclining chair on my right. “What kind of test? What’s wrong?”

The nurse glances at my mom, and I look around for a weapon. Just in case. The tray from whatever meal I didn’t eat is still on the table beside the bed.

As the blonde explains about some kind of neuro test, I reach for the butter knife with my free hand and tuck it beneath the sheet. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.

The metal bites into my palm, and I remember holding on to Magnolia’s silver chopstick I’d had made for her. I was going to stab that blond bitch if she came back. I just can’t remember her face.

“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Kilgore. I promise this is routine. I’ll have her back here in no time.” The nurse adjusts whatever they’re pumping into me from the pole attached to the bed, and releases the brake.

“I’ll come with.”

My mom rises from the chair, and I wonder if her protective instincts are flaring for the same reason as mine. If this is really the crazy bitch, I don’t want my mom anywhere near her. Especially not if I have to stab her with a butter knife.

“We’ll be right back. There’s no point in you trudging through the halls to wait outside anyway.” As my mom wrestles with this decision, the nurse says, “I swear. She’s going to be fine.”

The nurse’s placating tone rubs me the wrong way, and I prepare to do battle. I keep quiet, not wanting to give my mom a reason to come along.

When she finally nods and lowers herself back into the chair, her eyelids droop almost instantly.

“Mom, it’ll be okay. I’ll be right back. You should sleep.” I don’t believe what I’m saying, but I tell her anyway.

“Love you, honey.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

She’s already snoring as the nurse wheels me out of sight.

* * *

The hallways of the hospital are quiet, which puts me even more on edge.

“Where are we going?”

“Just another quick check of your head. You took a hard hit.”

I almost ask her if she did it, but then I’d lose the element of surprise if it’s really her.

My paranoia ratchets up the farther we get away from my room and my mom. Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. With the butter knife clutched in my hand, I turn my head, ignoring the pounding pain.

“Who are you, and where the hell are you taking me?”

She steps forward to punch a round silver disk that activates the double doors, and they swing wide.

“No need to panic, Keira. I promise, everything’s going to be fine.” She turns me toward an open doorway, and there’s nothing but darkness beyond it.

“If you try to fucking touch me, I swear to God, I will—”

She raises a hand in a defensive gesture. “No need to threaten. I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t have a death wish. I’ll give you two a few minutes alone.” She pushes me into the dark room and steps back.

You two?

My eyes acclimate to the darkness as her shoes squeak in retreat on the tile floor, and I find his face in the shadows.