Riding the Thunder - Deborah MacGillivray [128]
Every time he opened his mouth, she let him have it again. He took the blows without defending himself. After a dozen, he caught the pillow and took it away.
“I started to tell you several times—”
“Oooh . . . liar! You stole the proxies!”
Jago nodded, appearing shaken, tired. “Yes, I did. Expediency . . . for us all. I just wanted everything done, Asha. Des will win. He always does. There won’t be any stopping him. Without the proxies, Cian couldn’t fight him. It would be bloody done. Over with. Finally. We could all get on with our lives. Once he takes over Montgomerie Enterprises, then I can force him to make things right for your family, as I did with the horse farm. You talked to Liam. You know I did right by him. I did try several times to explain to you, but life kept intruding. Truth? I let it intrude. For the first time in my whole ruddy life I was happy.”
Jago spoke with such conviction, depression, that it slowed her spiraling temper. His statement shook her, simply because she believed him. He stared at her with true misery. Silly man wasn’t just guilty. He was in pain, a pain so crippling that it reached into her, nearly made her forget her anger. Nearly.
“This last year, every night I’d get up, restless, couldn’t sleep. I’d go to the refrigerator, open it and stand looking inside. I wasn’t hungry, yet I repeated this over and over. I didn’t need food. I needed love. I needed you. That first night after we met, all the nocturnal wandering stopped.” He walked to the patio door and stood, watching the falling snow.“Until you, I never understood I wasn’t happy. When I found you, I found my other half—what was missing.”
“Then why risk it all—for what? Your brothers and you are playing some high stakes game with my family’s holdings? I gather from this,”—she held up the letter—“that your brothers are behind a hostile takeover of anything with the name Montgomerie attached. My father and brother are capable of defending against a bunch of modern day pirates. What I do care about, my life here—”
“I know that. Sometimes forces push us against our will. Yes, I should’ve told you, only for once in my bloody life I played the coward. I reached out and held on to you like a lifeline. I was lost, no meaning to my existence. Don’t you see? I’m another of your lost souls finding heaven at The Windmill. When you’re that low and salvation comes along, and when you comprehend if you lose it there won’t be anything left worth living for, you tend to get scared. Bloody scared. Each time I intended to tell you some interruption popped up and, like a condemned man, I welcomed the excuses.” He braced his hand high on the doorframe, and leaned against it. The hypnotic eyes watched her reflection in the mirrored glass. “Yeah, I was a coward, but I haven’t changed. You love me. Not my name.”
“Oh!” she gasped, feeling more than panic rise in her throat.
He rushed to her. “What’s wrong?”
Asha shoved him away. “Get back, unless you want me to barf all over you.”
Not waiting to see what he’d do, she dashed into the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it. She barely got the commode lid up before her stomach let go. Boy, did it let go! Weak from retching, she slumped against the hamper. Clint materialized and crawled into her lap to comfort her. He sniffed her sour breath and wrinkled his nose.
“You ought to try it from my side.” She jumped when Jago hammered on the door.
“Asha, are you all right?” He pounded again.
She glared at the locked door. “Go away. I really don’t want to see you right now, Mr. Mershan.” Her body was sending signals it was just getting wound up. “Stand back, round two is coming, Clint.”
Jago yelled, cajoled and begged, though she did her best to tune him out. After tossing the rest of her cookies, all she wanted was a cool rag and to wash the horrid taste from her mouth, not to deal with a man named Mershan.
“Asha, open the damn door. Now.”
“Go to hell. I want to die,” she moaned, and rolled onto her