Stealing Gold (The Logan Series Book 4) by Sally Clements Read Free Book Online Page B

glance from under the sweep of her
dark eyelashes. “Am I making any sense?”
    “Yeah,
you are.” He knew exactly what she meant. “The guys wanted to check you into
the best hotel in Clifden. They thought I was crazy suggesting you stay with
me, but I knew you’d prefer being here. Let me show you around.” It would have
been natural to offer her a hand to pull her from the chair, but he stuffed his
hands in his pockets and strode through the double glass doors that led from
the patio to the cottage’s interior instead.
    “You’ve
seen most of it. There are four bedrooms, yours, mine, one which serves as a
home gym, and one I have converted into a makeshift office.” He pushed open a
door to reveal a room dominated by a large desk holding an impressive computer installation
with two huge monitors. “I’ll be spending most of my time in here.”
    “Your
Batcave.” She smiled.
    “Every
man needs one.” She’d always understood that he needed a private place to
work—somewhere devoid of distraction. The way they worked was so different. She
had made herself comfortable on the sofa with a guitar and a notebook to
compose—happily ignoring him when she needed to. He could never work like that.
    They
walked back into the sitting room. “I reckoned you’d be able to work here.” He
waved at the large squashy sofa next to the fire. “The beach is less than a
mile away, we can visit after breakfast if you like.”
    She
chewed on her bottom lip. “Someone might recognize me. No-one knows I’m in
Ireland, but—”
    “I
know you’re used to being front and center, but believe me, even if you are
recognized, no-one will bother you. I’ll make sure of that.” She lived her life
in a fishbowl, which was one the reasons he’d wanted to bring her to Ireland,
back when they were married. To show her that life could be easy. Could be
real.
    She
sat on the sofa, and stroked a patchwork throw adorning its back. “Did your
grandmother make this?”
    The
cottage had been in his family for generations. Old pictures in his grandmother’s
photo albums showed it with a thatched roof in an earlier incarnation.
    “Maybe,
I don’t know. She might have made it, or it could have been made by one of her
sisters or her mother. Her parents lived in this house before her.”
    Stacy
walked to the window and stared out at the wild garden, edged with fuschia
hedges underplanted with bright orange montbretia. The grass was rough and
uneven, and bordered by a drystone wall. In the distance, the granite sky
blended into the darker sea below.
    A
memory of something he’d read floated up. “Didn’t you spend your early years in
a house that had been home to generations of your family too?”
    She
turned. “The cabin in the mountains?” Her mouth twisted. “There’s an element of
creative license in the story of my early years.” She stared at the floor. “Lester
wrote my bio. He liked to say he created me. In many ways he was right.”
    When
her gaze lifted, there was pain in the depths of her eyes. Adam gritted his
teeth. “He didn’t create you.” He walked to her side, and gripped her upper
arms, turning her to him. “That man did his very best to undermine your
confidence. He controlled what you thought about me, and what you thought about
yourself. Don’t let him win. Don’t give him credit for something he doesn’t
deserve. Your creativity, your talent, that’s all down to you, Stacy Gold. Don’t
ever doubt that.”
    She
scrunched her eyes closed. “Everything about me is a lie. Every single fact you
think you know is wrong.”
    *****
    Stacy’s
mouth was dry. Her heartbeat was pounding. She’d broken the one cardinal rule
drummed into her since her teens. Never tell.
    Adam’s
touch was on her chin, edging her face up.
    She
opened her eyes to see him staring with compassion in his eyes.
    “Do
you want to tell me about it?”
    She
shook her head. Took a step away. “It’s complicated.” She crossed her