"I-I'm sorry. It just slipped. I didn't mean to-"

"Never mind," Dylan said as he rinsed the blood from her hand. He grabbed a clean towel and then pressed it to the cut. "There. It doesn't look deep. It should stop bleeding soon." He pulled a first aid kit from a nearby drawer and handed her a bandage.

The pain was dulled by the echo of the name in her head. Kendrick. Seamus was in jail because the police thought he murdered Sam Kendrick. And Sam Kendrick had been married to Lila Kendrick, the very woman she met on Christmas Eve. That meant that her father was suspected of killing Rafe's father.

A wave of nausea washed over her. "I-I'll just go take care of this in the ladies' room," she murmured as she rushed past him and through the bar.

When she reached the privacy of the bathroom, she leaned back against the door and swallowed hard, fighting the urge to throw up. What was she supposed to do with this news? And how could she tell Rafe?

A sudden realization struck her like a slap to the face. Maybe Rafe already knew. But if he suspected her father of murder, then why hadn't he said something that night when she'd told him her reasons for coming to Boston? Her mind spun back to that moment and Keely tried to remember his reaction. Rafe had been a bit distant at times since then, but she'd written that off as a bad mood.

For all she knew, Rafe had no idea of the connection between his father's death and the Quinn family. She drew a ragged breath. But what if he did know? Another realization hit her. Keely groaned softly and covered her mouth with her hand. Had Rafe known who she was all along? Even from that very first night on the street in front of the pub? Was their meeting a part of some plan?

"No," she murmured. She was reading way too much into the situation. She pressed the heels of her hands to her temples. The only way she'd know the truth was to confront Rafe.

Keely turned on the tap and splashed cold water on her face, then dabbed it dry with a paper towel. Before she walked out the door, she ran her fingers through her hair and pasted a smile on her face.

Her brothers were still in the same spot, still involved in their discussion, when she walked back behind the bar. Sean joined her and opened the cash register. "Liam explained to you what is going on, right? Rather than wait for your paycheck, I'll just pay you in cash. I'm sorry we can't keep you on, Keely. You were a good waitress."

"That's all right. I understand. You all seem so worried-I wish there was something I could do."

"It'll be fine," he replied. "It's just a family thing."

Tears of frustration pressed at the corners of her eyes and she fought them back. She was tired of hearing it was a family thing! She was family and she wanted to help. But with all that had happened to them today, she couldn't possibly reveal the news now.

Maybe she didn't deserve to be a part of the Quinn family. After all, she'd been sleeping with Rafe Kendrick. But was Rafe the enemy? Did he have anything to do with this whole thing? God, she couldn't think! Her mind was a mess of doubt and speculation. "I think I'm going to go home, if that's all right with you."

"No problem," Sean replied. "Not much to do around here." He handed her the cash and she tucked it in her pocket. "Good luck with everything, Keely."

"Thanks. Good luck to you. And give Seamus my best wishes." Her voiced trembled slightly and when she turned to grab her purse and jacket, she had to bite her lip to keep from crying.

"Bye, Keely," Liam shouted. The rest of her brothers added their farewells, and she turned and gave them a wave, then opened the door. When she reached the street, Keely yanked her jacket more tightly around her to still the tremors that racked her body.

The cold winter air cleared her head and she tried to sort out all she'd heard. But her initial suspicion kept coming back to plague her. Rafe had to be involved. Why had he been hanging out at the pub? And why, during all of their discussions, hadn't he told her about his father? Why was that such a big secret?

Keely glanced up and down the street, wondering how to get back to the bed-and-breakfast. There had to be a bus stop or a subway stop close by. She'd just have to walk around until she found one. And while she searched, she'd decide exactly how to handle her next encounter with Rafe.

One thing she did know-Keely Quinn wouldn't be falling into bed with Rafe Kendrick anytime soon.

CHAPTER SEVEN

KEELY SAT in the dark living room of Rafe's apartment, staring at an elaborate flower arrangement on the cherry coffee table in front of her. The doorman had happily let her in as he'd done a number of times since Christmas Eve. She shivered, then rubbed her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, trying to conquer the apprehension she felt.

The moment he walked in the door, Keely knew she had to confront him, so determined was she to have an explanation for his deceit. As she waited, she had thought about opening a bottle of wine, but then decided against it, certain that she'd need all her wits about her. Besides, with the level of her anger, the wine bottle could be used as a weapon.

The words were difficult to plan. She only knew how she felt-betrayed, confused, hurt. Funny, she'd thought she was immune to those emotions. If she didn't allow herself to fall in love with Rafe, then he couldn't possibly hurt her. So what did this mean? Was she in love with him or had the shock of the situation simply overwhelmed her?

The sound of his key in the lock startled her out of her thoughts. She didn't speak the moment he walked in, choosing instead to observe him from the shadows. He looked tired and tense as he threw his keys on a table and dropped his briefcase on the floor. And try as she might, she couldn't see him as the enemy. When he reached out for the light switch, Keely held her breath.

Rafe saw her immediately. "Keely! Christ, what are you doing here?"

"Where did you expect me to be?"

"I-I thought you were going to spend the night at your place. Shouldn't you be at work?"

She swallowed hard, unsure if she'd even be able to form a coherent sentence. "The pub's been closed. Does that come as a surprise to you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He raked his hand through his hair, then slowly approached. "Are you angry about something?"

"Should I be?"

"Damn it, Keely, if you're going to answer every question I pose with another question, we'll just quit talking. But if you have a problem, tell me what it is and we'll discuss it. I'm not going to play games with you."

She laughed derisively. "Oh, you're not going to play games? Tell me, what have you been doing from the moment we met? No, don't answer that. First, tell me, what were you doing at Quinn's the night we met?" She paused for a long moment, long enough for her to see the answer in his eyes. "You did this, didn't you? All this trouble for Seamus. You're the one who made it happen."

"Keely, I-"

Her heart ached a little more with every word she said. Suspecting him of such an act was one thing, but seeing the confirmation of it in his eyes was another. "You think Seamus had something to do with your father's death. I heard my brothers talking about it and when they mentioned your name-Kendrick-I couldn't believe it. But then it all fell into place. After all, what would a sophisticated, wealthy downtown guy like you be doing in a working-class pub in South Boston? Unless you had some reason for hanging out there."

He grabbed her hand and held on to it so tightly that she couldn't pull it away. "Just listen for a few seconds and I'll explain."

Keely jumped up from beside him, tearing her fingers from his grasp. "Tell me you didn't have anything to do with calling down the cops on my father. Tell me you didn't do something to bring the building inspectors out to the pub." She clutched her fists at her side, fighting the urge to punch him. "Tell me."

Rafe slowly leaned back into the sofa. "I can't," he murmured. "I won't. Everything you suspect is true. I found the witness against Seamus Quinn and I convinced him to go to the authorities. I called a friend I have in the inspector's office and asked him to take a look at Quinn's Pub. And when Seamus tries to find an asbestos contractor to take care of his problem, he won't find a single contractor in the greater Boston area who will take the job. Oh, and I now hold the mortgage on the pub, so if he defaults, the place belongs to me."

His cavalier attitude was like a punch to the stomach, stealing the breath from her lungs and making it impossible to draw another. She opened her mouth, but no words would come. How could the man she'd been so intimate with now be so hateful?

"Before you tell me how much you detest me, maybe you should consider one point, Keely. What if it's true? What if your father really is responsible for the death of my father?"

"It-it can't be true," she said, her voice trembling.

"I think it is. All the evidence points that way, Keely."

She walked to the window, then braced her hands on the sill, gripping it with white knuckles. "What about me? Was I all a part of this scheme? Were you going to use me against my own family?"

Rafe stood up, but she backed away as he approached, unwilling to allow him to touch her again. "That night in front of the pub, I didn't know who you were. Imagine my surprise when you told me you were really a Quinn."

"And you didn't have any second thoughts about what you were doing? Even after you knew I was Seamus's daughter?"

"Why would I?"

Keely spun on him, then made to slap him across the face. But he caught her hand just in time and she slowly let it drop. "No, I guess you wouldn't," she murmured. "I was just the woman you were sleeping with. Well, that's the end of it then. You've chosen your side and I've chosen mine." She drew a ragged breath. "You're not going to win, you know. I'll do everything I can to make sure you don't hurt my family."