Lacybourne Manor (Ghosts and Reincarnation #3)(37)

And here Colin Morgan was, offering her a way.

It was an unthinkable, despicable way.

But it was a way.

She couldn’t believe she was going to do it, this man was loathsome, hideous.

But she was going to do it.

If he agreed.

How many people had fifty thousand pounds to throw around, especially for something like this?

Thinking (more like hoping), he’d never agree to it and would be so disgusted he’d walk out the door, out of her life, leaving her in peace (forever and ever), Sibyl announced, “I want fifty thousand pounds.”

That would buy the minibus, the driving lessons for Kyle, petrol, insurance and maintenance for several years, if they were frugal.

And it would buy peace of mind for Meg and Annie and all the other oldies who depended on the minibus to get them out of their homes so they could have a good meal and a few hours of companionship.

“And what does that buy me?” His eyes betrayed both a disappointment so extreme it was tangible and a desire so strong she felt her body heat. Her stomach twisted inexplicably as he looked at her with that strange expression on his face.

“You tell me.” Sibyl shot back, trying for bravado. She felt like she was on the edge of a sharp, dark precipice, just about to jump over into the blinding abyss and it scared the living daylights out of her.

If she became this man’s whore, she would never find her true love. She would never be the same again.

And she couldn’t shake the constant feeling she had when she was with him that there was something else, something missing between them, something she didn’t understand, couldn’t put her finger on but it was something vitally important.

And, because of that, because he, too, had to feel it, she couldn’t imagine he’d say yes.

“It gets me anything I want for two months,” he declared.

Oh dear goddess, he said yes.

She blinked at him and felt the world falling away as she toppled into the abyss.

He stared down at her, his clay-coloured eyes burning into her and she realised it wasn’t done, she could take it back, order him out of her home and tell him she never wanted to see him again.

It was the moment of truth, could she do this vile thing?

But, her heart sinking, she knew she could.

No, she had to.

For Annie and especially for Meg.

And she felt a pain slice through her stomach.

And she decided she hated Colin Morgan (at the same time she hated herself and her stupid temper which she vowed never to lose again).

Having come to her decision, Sibyl pressed her lips together and forced her body to relax.

It was done, it had to be. Two months of his despicable attention would mean years of safety for her oldies. It was, she tried (and failed) to convince herself, a small price to pay.

She’d gotten herself in many pickles, nothing this bad, of course, but in the past, it had been bad. And she’d also lived through it and got to the other side.

She could live through this too.

She probably should have negotiated but she wanted him to let her go and she wanted all of this to be over, for now. She’d think about it again, later, after she learned how to kick herself in the backside.

“Done,” she snapped.

Then she watched as Colin smiled, it was slow and it was lethal.

“Except –” she started to say, the panic overwhelming her.

His arms tightened painfully.

“No exceptions.”

She ignored him and stated, “Not on that table. My father rebuilt and refinished that table, you’ll not…” she paused, not knowing how to put it.

He was ever-so-helpful in a way she was beginning to realise with great annoyance was so very him. “Fuck you on the table?”

She thought she might just burst into tears.

Somehow she felt in her very soul that this was all wrong and she knew it was the dreams. They were just dreams but she felt, even hoped, deep down inside that they meant something more. That they meant her years of searching for her dream man, her knight, the other piece of her heart, were over.

Apparently, they did not.

“Yes,” she hissed and controlled, with a mighty effort, her rampaging emotions.

“Fine,” he relented, the pressure of his hands gentling but he did not release her.

“I want the money tomorrow,” she told him. If she was going to do this, she’d better do it now or she’d chicken out. Her mind was racing, two months yawned before her, filled with blackness.

“Then you’re in my bed tomorrow night.”

Her stomach clenched at his words but she nodded, her hair annoyingly falling all around her face and, with her hands held behind her back, she could do nothing about it.

“How shall we seal this bargain?” he asked, his voice had turned from edgy and intense to something else entirely and she could just not believe that her stomach actually did a mini-flip.

She didn’t even chance a look at his face.

“Mr. Morgan, you don’t touch me…” She had to stop because she was pressed up against him from toe to chest and his arms were wrapped around her. “Anymore… until tomorrow.”

“The name is Colin,” he clipped.

She tossed her head and glared at him.

“Tomorrow,” she snapped.

Surprisingly, he let her go.