Page 74 of Irish Betrayal

He wanted to hear her voice.

“Hey, Dad.”

She was still at school and found a small nook to sit down. She watched as her screen lit up with another message.

Dad: Why didn’t you tell me that Dr. Samson went with you to Oklahoma?

Sheer panic beat at her chest. Her next reaction was anger. Someone had told him. Her next, understanding. Any number of the O’Faolain family could and would tell her dad—and with good reason.

Blair knew her story about Peter following her was weak and sketchy at best. She’d explained more to Daniel, but there were still obvious holes.

She planned to tell her parents and Daniel everything, but not over the phone.

“I didn’t know he was coming. He wasn’t here the first two months. I didn’t think it signified.” Blair winced. She could tell her pitch went up, making her sound guilty as hell.

Dad: You may be an adult, Blair, but you’re still my daughter, and you know damn well it signifies. Was it some sort of surprise? Did he think you would need his help? I didn’t think he even taught you anymore.

“He might have thought I still needed him, but I don’t. At all.” Damn it, Blair, don’t say too much. “Maybe me going to America inspired him to try something new.”

Dad: You are hiding something. Your voice is shaking.

Why did her dad have to be such a bloodhound? Mags’ dad, Charles, would have taken his daughter’s word on the matter and let it go. Not Coll Barr.

Dad: You can tell me anything. Surely, you know that.

Blair felt tears prick her eyes. She did know that. She absolutely did know. Up until four months ago, she hadn’t even considered that she had secrets that she needed to share with her parents.

Not until the day Peter had ripped the blinders from her eyes. And her mind. There were some nights that she cried herself to sleep, wondering if she would have preferred ignorance.

She blew a deep breath out. “I wish I could hear your voice.”

Dad: Oh, baby girl, I wish you could too. Tell me what’s making you sad. I’ll make it go away. Permanently.

Blair smiled at that, knowing from feeling her father’s throat as a child that he probably growled the last. Her brother, Laith, said he sounded like a tiger.

“I’m going to see you in a couple of days. I’ll tell you then. Okay?”

Dad: No. That isn’t okay.

She shook her head, so many stubborn men in her life. “Trust that I’ll see you soon and talk to you then. Please, Dad.”

Dad: Fine. Are you flying straight to Scotland?

Oh, boy. “Actually, my flight lands in Dublin.

Dad: Why?

“Daniel wanted to pick me up from the airport.”

Dad: And why the hell do you care what he wants?

“He’s my boyfriend.”

Dad: That little shit. He’ll regret not speaking to me.

“Dad! He’s flying me to see you the day after I get home because we wanted to tell you together. Now stop being a caveman, or I’m calling Mom.”

Dad: I’m counting down the minutes.