Luck of the Irish: Complete Edition (26 page)

Although he sounded gentle and concerned, she didn’t trust him, which shouldn’t be surprising because he was a stranger to her. If she didn’t remember him, she didn’t know him. No amount of sweet endearments on his part would make any difference to her at that point. How could she trust him if she didn’t know who she was?

“You doubt me, Keira. I get it. Let me help you up. You can take a shower while I fix us breakfast. We’ll talk as we eat, huh?”

She looked at the hand he had stretched out to her. Judging by her body’s reaction when she had sat up on the bed, she would need a steadying hand to be able to get up from it. She held his hand as Paul pulled her up, but her legs gave out from under her with the violent fit of vertigo that came over her. She grabbed his upper arms for support and closed her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m dizzy,” she answered through gritted teeth. Closing her eyes didn’t make the pounding headache go away; but gave her the illusion of it. “Just give me a minute.”

When the sensation slackened, Keira opened her eyes and squared her shoulders.

“Let me help you out of your clothes,” he offered, as his fingers unzipped her coat.

A new wave of panic hit her, threatening to destroy her hard work to keep the nausea under control. She stopped his hands.

“I don’t know what kind of relationship we had. Right now, you’re a stranger to me. I can undress by myself. Thank you.”

His eyes betrayed his exasperation, and his first impulse was to snap at her, but Paul kept the dry reply to himself. That was not the time. Yet.

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed and released her coat.

“I’ll need a hand to get to the bathroom, though,” she reluctantly admitted.

He offered his arm and once they stepped across the threshold, she let go of him.

“Thank you. I’ll be fine, now.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen. Call me if you need anything.”

Nodding, she closed the door, locked it, and leaned against it. She felt hollow but she couldn’t give in to desperation. She tore herself off the door, walked to the sink, and looked at her reflection in the mirror hoping that it would jolt her memory.

Not knowing who she was had seemed unbearable enough until she looked at her own face. She had a purplish blue swell in her left temple, which hurt when she touched it. Although her head throbbed everywhere, there was a focal point where the pain seemed to originate. She couldn’t see it in the mirror because it was at the back of her head, but her fingers found the spot. There was a huge swell there, too.

“What the heck happened to you, woman? While we are at it, who are you?”

When her reflection didn’t answer her humorless jokes, Keira turned on the faucet to fill the bathtub, while she shed her clothes. A bath sounded less risky than a shower. If the dizziness returned, she didn’t want to slip, and add a third bump to her already injured head.

Stepping inside the tub, Keira carefully slid her battered body down until the water covered it. She leaned her head back against the tiled wall, closing her eyes and feeling her muscles gradually unwind under the relaxing effect of the hot water. However, for the healing process to be efficient, she needed to rein in the million thoughts scattered inside her head. Knowing it wouldn’t be easy, she chose to put them aside, concentrating on one step at a time. Instead of exhausting herself trying to guess what had happened, Keira should listen to what Paul had to say and trust her instincts to judge if he was truthful.

* * * *

“It smells good. What is it?”

“A family secret recipe for omelet. Eat it and tell me what you think.”

Paul had finished cooking breakfast and had set the table while Keira took her bath.

“It’s delicious.”

“Thank you.”

They ate in silence until Keira couldn’t stand the wait anymore, “What happened to me? I’ve got two huge bumps in my head and countless bruises everywhere.”

“You may not like what I have to tell you, love, but I’ve got to be honest with you. You were kidnapped.”

“Me? Kidnapped? Why? How?”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to start from the beginning.”

“You said my name was Keira. What’s my surname? Where am I from? Where’s my family?”

“All right, I get it,” he laughed and raised a hand to stop her. “Your name is Keira Ashe. You’re American. You don’t have a family. You were an only child and your parents died in a car accident last year. You were so devastated by your loss, that you decided to come visit your grand-parents’ country in search of solace.”

He paused for her to process the information. Despite not remembering them, her stomach churned at the idea of having lost her parents. She guessed they were very close.

“It’s weird. I don’t remember them yet I miss them.”

Having finished their breakfast, Keira told Paul she wanted to take a walk. Maybe the ocean breeze would help her recover faster. Paul offered his arm but she refused it. She wanted to test her limits. She walked slowly and he resumed telling Keira about her life according to his imagination.

“Well, you arrived in Ireland a little over two months ago. We met on the beach, not far from here. You told me you had come to Youghal because your grandmother was born here. We fell madly in love and got married in less than a week.”

He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. A jolt of energy made her jump when their hands connected. He laughed, delighted to see how his touch affected her. She was surprised at the fact that the touch of her alleged husband made her skin crawl. Maybe her head injury was causing the nausea.

“But, like any other great love story, ours had a villain. There was this guy in the hotel where we spent our wedding night. He’s a sick fellow, who sneaked into our room and tried to rape you while I was downstairs.”

He paused again to evaluate the effect of his words on Keira. A deep crease had formed between her eyebrows as she concentrated, “For a second, I thought I remembered it,” she had a hopeful expression on her lovely face. “Then it was gone.”

“I returned in time to save you. I threw him to the ground and punched him within an inch of his life. You stopped me. I would have gladly killed the bastard.”

Keira came to an abrupt halt and squeezed his hand.

“I remember that!”

She closed her eyes and saw vivid images of two men fighting. Although she couldn’t see their faces, she saw broad shoulders, which looked exactly like Paul’s. The height was a match, as well.

“I can see it,” she exclaimed, a little before the scene vanished from her mind. Disappointed, she opened her eyes. “It’s gone. It’s a start, though, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sure,” was his weak reply. “You look pale.”

“I’m not feeling well. I’m sorry. Can we go back? I guess I’d better rest.”

Despite the fact Paul would rather continue his story, he didn’t want Keira collapsing from exhaustion. He had other plans for that night. She would need all her strength.

“Absolutely.”

All that information had made her head spin. She wanted to lie down and wait for the dizziness to stop.

* * * *

As it turned out, Keira was more tired than either of them had anticipated. She slept through most of the day, skipping lunch and not responding to Paul’s innumerous attempts to wake her. In the early evening, he paced the floor in the living room, waiting for her to recover. He feared her head injuries were causing that lethargy but he couldn’t risk taking Keira to a hospital. He rushed to the bedroom as soon as he heard her moving inside it.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Feeling any better?”

Keira had opened the closet and was going through its contents. She had found linens, blankets, and pillows for the bedroom as well as towels for the bathroom.

“Where’s my stuff? I wanted to take a shower and change into fresh clothes. I couldn’t find any.”

“Sorry about that, love. I haven’t told you the rest of the story. You see, this isn’t our house. I brought you here in a hurry to hide from that lunatic Slane. But, I’ll go out and get you something. I won’t be long.”

“Just get me a new top, then. We can go to town tomorrow and buy more things.”

Paul knew they couldn’t do that. He’d find a way to get that idea out of her head later.

“Nonsense, Keira. What else do you need?”

“If you insist, I’d love to wash my hair. Would you bring me a shampoo?”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.”

Taking Keira by surprise, Paul bent down and covered her mouth with his. She froze. His hands on her back pulled her against his body as his tongue searched for hers. She had trouble breathing, while her stomach churned and bile filled her throat. She yanked herself free from his embrace, covering her mouth with a hand, and ran to the bathroom.

Paul started to follow her but stopped at the sound of Keira hurling. He couldn’t stand the sight of that. He had never been able to see people throwing up without feeling sick as well. He decided to go out and get her stuff.

Frustration and anger boiled inside him as he stomped out of the house and down the road. Why did Keira reject him like that? He loved her, but he wouldn’t take that kind of behavior. Not after having sacrificed so much for Keira. He had risked his own freedom to get her back and now how did she repay him? She denied him, recoiling from a simple kiss as if he were a repulsive vermin or a snake.

Paul shook his head to clear it from those gloomy thoughts. Keira was different. She loved him. She had invited him to her hotel room in Cork and begged him to make love to her. She had stopped Slane from killing him then, hadn’t she? She had begged Slane to let her go with Paul the night before, hadn’t she? Slane was the problem! That bastard had kept her against her will. Otherwise, she would have visited Paul at the hospital. Later, when Paul had tried to rescue her, Slane hit her temple. Her head injury caused the nausea.

That’s right. It’s Slane’s fault that she’s sick
.

While mulling over Slane’s role in Keira’s changes, he had arrived to the nearest house without noticing it. He peered through the kitchen window but couldn’t see anything. He moved around the house, checking the windows. The lights were out. Apparently, there wasn’t anybody in, which made it easier for him to get what Keira needed. Going to town was out of the question so Paul needed to be creative. Luckily, the backdoor was easy to pick and it didn’t take him long to find a top that would fit Keira and a bottle of shampoo. He put them inside a plastic bag and hurried back to their house. Even at his fast pace, it took him a long time to get to the cottage.

* * * *

When Keira stopped throwing up, her head pounded with the intensity of a thousand church bells. She couldn’t keep her eyes open because of the splitting headache. She slowly stood up, washed her face and mouth, then searched the medicine cabinet for something to relieve the pain. There wasn’t anything.

She sluggishly moved to the bedroom and tried the drawers there, without any luck. Stumbling through the narrow corridor, leaning against the wall, and stopping many times along the way, she got to the kitchen. There, she opened the cupboard doors until she found a bottle of a painkiller. She couldn’t read the label because it was torn and she wasn’t wearing her glasses. It was stuff for children, so she figured she should take double the dosage. She filled a tablespoon with the red liquid twice and swallowed it.

Keira retraced her steps to the bedroom and plopped herself on the bed. She felt too exhausted to go on fighting to keep her eyes open. She closed them and couldn’t avoid thinking about what had happened. Her reaction to Paul’s touch had surprised and confused her. Why had she married him if she felt that away about him? Maybe she was too depressed and lonely after her family died and had fallen for the first nice guy that she had met.

That sounded wrong. Despite her bruises, when Keira studied her reflection in the mirror, she saw a beautiful young woman. Certainly, she had had many other boyfriends before meeting Paul. On the other hand, he was a handsome man. It wasn’t so hard for her to believe she had fallen in love with him. A strange lethargy came over her and her train of thought started to get unclear. Keira tried to focus on Paul but another man’s face popped up behind her eyelids. He was gorgeous. His green eyes shone with the most wonderful light – love. She knew him. She tried to remember who he was, but his name eluded her.
Who are you?

* * * *

When Paul returned, Keira was sleeping deeply. He sat beside her on the bed and watched her for a while. She was so beautiful. He could hardly believe how lucky he was.

“Keira, love, wake up,” he whispered in her ear.

There was no answer. She didn’t move at all. He leaned closer, kissed her cheeks, and cupped her shoulders, shaking her lightly. When she didn’t open her eyes, he spoke louder.