“I fancy Cordelia. Is that cool?” Eason fixed his gaze on Ronan. “She’s divorced. Sure, she was married before, but that’s ancient history. Plus, she hasn’t spoken to her ex in three years. That’s pretty much a dead end, right, Mr. Evans? Anything wrong with that?”
Ronan arched an eyebrow and let out a wry chuckle. “Nothing wrong at all.”
“These past three years, we’ve been like friends, and we’ve been like more than friends. We’ve supported each other and taken care of each other. I think it’s time to take things to the next level, maybe even tie the knot. Nothing wrong with that, is there?” Eason went on.
“And with marriage on the cards, why on earth would you sleep in separate rooms?”
“Oh, I respect Cordelia. I’m not into pressuring people. Her ex was all about that, and she totally hated it. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so I never made a move. She thought about coming to my room once, but I said no. I knew she had just returned from abroad and was going through a lot. I wouldn’t take advantage of her. Right, Mr. Evans?”
Eason’s words were laden with insinuations, and Ronan was no fool to miss them. Besides, Cordelia had shared even her most intimate fears with him – they must’ve been incredibly close.
“You seem like quite the gentleman, Dr. Eason,” Ronan remarked sarcastically.
“I’m no saint, but I’m certainly not a creep. Oh, and did you know? Cordelia’s scared of you. Sometimes, she can barely breathe.” Eason dropped another bomb.
“And how would you know that?” Ronan asked coolly.
“She tells me everything.”
“Of course, you’re her shrink,” Ronan noted, with perfect timing.
“A man who can take three lives and not bat an eyelid is certainly someone to be afraid of. Isn’t that right, Mr. Evans? It’s like sleeping next to someone who’s got a knife under the pillow. How can you sleep easily? Fear is a natural response. Moreover, you and Cordelia don’t really have a deep connection. It was an accidental beginning, a marriage before love, if you can even call it love. Maybe it’s more like cohabitation,” Eason said. “I'm done here, Mr. Evans. I’m beat, and I’ve got a flight back to England tomorrow. Sorry to leave you, Mr. Evans.”
With that, he’d said all he had to say.
Ronan stepped out of the Crown Hotel and lit up a cigarette. He knew he had met a formidable opponent. What about Cordelia's connection to Alana? How come Eason had been digging for three years and found nothing?
Lost in thought, Ronan’s phone rang. It was Petra.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Daddy,” came the voice on the other end.
Ronan paused for a moment. “I'm not your dad. Are you feeling better?”
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