Page 39 of Irish Fury
Jonathan was glad for the distraction. The silence between the four men as they waited for Mags’ reemergence had been wearing.
Mags glanced at the men. “Nasir.” Upon hearing his name, the man’s head jerked up from where he’d been studying the floor. “I can’t tell you enough how thankful I am for you saving me. Had you not been there…had you not run so fast, I wouldn’t have been so lucky.”
“It was nothing.” With his hands clasped behind his back, Nasir lowered his head slightly, accepting her thanks.
“It was definitely something to me,” Mags insisted. “Would you come over here? I would like to speak to you in something lower than a bellow.”
Hearing this, Jol called from the kitchen. “Boys,” she commanded, “please come help me with the tea tray.” Jonathan glanced back a few times and watched as Nasir stood stiffly before Mags. He couldn’t hear anything she was saying, but whatever it was had the man’s full attention.
Soon, Jonathan hoped to have her full attention.
twenty-four
MAGS
“You weren’t supposedto be following me.” That wasn’t a question. Mags knew he was supposed to be on a plane home.
“No.”
“Regardless of your reason, I’m grateful. In fact, I think the whole ordeal was destined to be.”
Mags watched Nasir’s eyes widen at that. According to Eze, his family and their close circle, including servants and guards, were incredibly spiritual.
“I’m going to tell you something, some of which is mine to tell and some of which is not. I dislike subterfuge, so I’m going for it,” she smiled then, because Nasir seemed so comically uncomfortable.
“For my part, I considered myself in love with Jonathan O’Faolain since I was about fifteen years old, but he ruined that. What’s happening now…well, your guess is as good as mine.
“You and Eze had what he considered a relationship. You shit all over that, and though I can’t pretend to sympathize with you, your reasons are your own. However, coming here with a chip onyour shoulder and a sense of entitlement over Eze’s life is a touch too far, all things considered.
“You hurt him, and he’s hurting you through me. He has become one of my closest friends, and so even though I feel wrong for speaking of him to you at all, I know what it feels like to have loved someone and had it thrown back in my face.
“You did that, Nasir. For the sake of a friendship I can only assume you two once shared, I thought you might want to, at the very least, apologize.”
Mags expected chagrin. She didn’t expect Nasir to drop to his knees and cover his face. Mags leaned forward, wincing as a few of her new bruises grumbled, and placed her hand on his shoulder.
After several heartbeats, Nasir dropped his hands. “I’ve loved Eze since we were boys. I loved him while he dated countless girls. I loved him even when he had sex with them.
“And then one day, he held my hand. It was the best day of my life.”
“Why then?”Why did you become a cheater? Why did you hurt your best friend?
“I didn’t believe it would last. I didn’t believe, because of the women, that he would or could commit to just me. I…I hurt him before he could hurt me, and I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.”
Mags cupped Nasir’s face, softly framing his anguish. “Eze is one of the most honorable people I know. You know that too. Explain, Nasir. Don’t leave Dublin without making him hear you.”
Nasir clasped his hands to his chest and dropped his forehead to rest on the edge of her knees. She didn’t dare move. Her eyes darted toward the kitchen, where she met first Jonathan’s and then Eze’s gaze, whose eyes were glassy.
Nasir stirred before standing. “You have honored me with your thoughts. I would be doubly honored to count you as my friend.”
“Easily done. Now, I think it’s time I spoke with Jonathan. He’s probably used up his patience quota for the month.” She chuckled, but her throat was suddenly dry.
Nasir turned but quickly spun back. “Margaret. Have you considered that Jonathan hurt you out of fear too?”
He didn’t wait for her answer, which was good because she didn’t have one. She watched with bated breath as Nasir approached Eze, but the view was blocked as Jonathan approached, holding Jol’s tea tray.
Once the tray was settled on the table in front of the couch, Jonathan handed her a cup of tea and a small dish of pastries, which she set on the table at her elbow, taking only a small sip of the milky, steamy goodness. Her nerves were way too jumbled to handle food.
Jonathan sat close to her on the couch, turning his knees toward her so that they were face to face. “Thank you for having Eze call me. I was worried.” He shrugged and grimaced before adding, “Well, my feelings were hurt at first, thinking you’d chosen not to meet even though I knew that isn’t the type of person you are.
