by Jan Moran
“With or without a swimsuit?” Fianna wiggled her eyebrows and laughed.
Niall grinned. “I’ll let you be the judge of that, Miss Crazy Eyes.” The sound of her laughter tinkled like a bell in his ears and he loved it. She turned to him and he encircled her waist, drawing her closer. He brushed his lips against hers in question, and she answered without hesitation. The connection between them was undeniable.
He lost himself in the softness of her lips, which quickly aroused him. After a while, he drew back and cradled her face in his hands. He adored this woman—her freckled nose, her cornflower blue and hazel eyes, and the determined tilt of her chin. He removed the elastic band that held her hair and threaded his supple fingers through her fiery red hair. “Simply gorgeous,” he murmured, finding her lips again.
When she pressed the length of her slender body against him, it was all he could do to restrain himself. The masseuse would be here any minute, though if he closed a door they’d have their privacy.
He checked his desire; he wanted her to come to him when she was truly ready, not just in the passionate heat of the moment. He slid his hand down to the curve of her slim hips. He wanted no regrets or missteps in this relationship. Fianna deserved the best a man had to offer.
He crushed her against him and then quickly released her, his breath labored with lust.
Fianna flicked her tongue over her lips. “I hope there’s more where that came from.”
“Even more than you imagine. I’ve been dreaming of this.”
She tossed her tousled hair and inclined her head, teasing him. “Have you now?”
Niall gazed at her lovely face, thinking. He knew what real love was, and what it wasn’t. It was trust and companionship, and yes, passionate lovemaking. It wasn’t neediness or jealousy. The love he longed for again would withstand the tests of life.
“I think we both need a cold shower before that hot Jacuzzi.” He feathered a kiss on her lips, and then he watched her walk away. She glanced back before she closed the door to the women’s changing room behind her.
He went into the men’s locker room. As he stripped off his clothes, he thought of Laila. He and his wife had been soul mates. All the passing relationships he’d had earlier with women meant nothing to him after they’d met. While they’d had their occasional disagreements, they’d always resolved their differences. They had been lovers and best friends, dreaming of their future and family they’d have when tragedy had struck.
He’d found Laila’s journal after she died. She’d recorded her thoughts, goals, and dreams. She’d always had a certain prescience, which she laughed about, saying it was just women’s intuition. But he knew it was more than that.
Laila sometimes felt, or saw, what the future held. He’d memorized one passage she’d written just before her death: Niall is a man of such passionate expression, that if I were to die, I’d want him to find another woman with whom he could share his soul. If he can’t express his deepest passions, he too, would wither and die. That’s how much I love him, and always will.
He blinked hard against the moisture that clouded his eyes. Had Laila sensed she had only a fortnight to live?
Laila’s writings proved true. He’d withered personally and musically. His wife had known everything about him and still loved him. Without her, on starless nights he’d found himself yearning for the cloak of death to relieve his unbearable loss.
And yet, he’d survived.
His deepest passions... Passion meant many things to him, from the creativity that coursed through his veins to the expression of life he infused in his music. Passion was the brilliant dawn of morning, the incessant roar of the sea, the silence of knowing one’s truth. It was the strength of his convictions.
Niall stepped into the shower and turned it to cold, letting the water prickle his skin. He closed his eyes and put his head under the shower head, letting his thoughts wander.
He saw this evidence of passion in Fianna’s eyes. It was her obsession for her art and for life itself. He’d felt it in her determination to free him from the rocks and the sea in Malibu.
Fianna lived with passion; could that include him someday? Once he’d experienced real love, nothing less would be good enough for him. Not a sizzling tumble on a shivering night, not an arm trophy girlfriend to dazzle the eye. No, only the genuine article could satisfy him now.
He stepped from the shower and toweled dry. He opened a locker and pondered a thought. Swimwear, or not? He made a choice and then put on a robe.
Most of his mates wouldn’t dare admit to such deep, raw thoughts. They saw yearnings as weaknesses that needed to be concealed lest their hearts be trampled and left to bleed in the harsh light of day. With his poet’s heart it was up to him to give voice to these feelings, to set them to music and share them with the world.
If he had a secret to his success, it was this.
Fianna made him want to create again. Ever since he’d met her, life seemed fresher and finer. Music and lyrics had been bubbling from his soul-scape like a wellspring, where once it had been dry and barren.
His passion had finally returned.
Could he spend his life with Fianna? He wasn’t sure yet. If only he could ask his best friend, the person he trusted most in the world. Where was Laila when he needed her? Had she finally left him? He stroked his chin. If she had, maybe that was her answer.
Fianna wrapped her hair in a terry cloth turban she’d found in the changing area. Everything she might have needed was there. Robes, slippers, and swimsuits in every size that looked like new, fresh makeup and skincare, and all the hair styling tools she could imagine. A woman had definitely equipped this area.
She didn’t see Niall around, so she opened the glass door to the steam sauna. A wave of eucalyptus-scented steam billowed toward her, surrounding her with heavenly warmth. She placed a towel on a shimmering azure blue tile ledge and eased onto it, stretching her sore limbs. The bike ride had been fun, but her muscles had gotten a work out. She leaned back with thoughts of Niall dancing in her mind. The taste of his lips, the rapid beat of his heart…the firmness of his arousal against her.
She smiled as another wave of steam rose around her. Niall sure knew how to move on the dance floor, and she’d melted into his magnetic kisses. She wasn’t the type to fall into bed with men she hardly knew, but there was something distinctly different about Niall. She enjoyed every moment with him. He made her laugh, he loved to share stories, and she could see compassion in his soul.
Shielding her eyes with her forearm against the steam, she thought about their blossoming relationship. How long could she stay here? Not long, really. She had to return to Los Angeles. Her business wouldn’t run without her. Niall had just sold his home in Malibu. How could they continue a relationship?
Or maybe he didn’t want one. The steam became too much for her, and she stepped out. Cool air blasted her face. Was this just a holiday romance to him?
His kisses certainly didn’t feel that way.
She walked into the pool area and sucked in her breath. The sun was setting in a magnificent show. The impressionist sky was painted with smudged strokes of rose and lavender. A storm of brilliant color splashed around her. She paused, rooted to the spot, appreciating nature’s incredible display framed in the atrium windows that soared high above.
After enjoying a moment of creative rejuvenation, she strolled toward the bubbling Jacuzzi and glanced around. Maybe Niall was having a massage. She slipped out of her robe and eased into the warm water. She closed her eyes, shifting underwater until she found just the right jet to massage her sore shoulder muscles. Ahh…
“Well, look at you.” Niall stood gazing at her, slowly unwrapping his robe. “How’s the water?”
“Um, it feels great.” Surprised, Fianna blinked up at him, and then she looked away out of modesty. But she had to sneak a glance. She darted her eyes to the side.
Fianna covered her mouth and started laughing. “You’re weari
ng a Speedo?”
Niall held out his muscular arms. “What’s the matter? I thought it looked pretty good. I mean, I’m no Michael Phelps, but I didn’t think it looked that bad.” He turned around. “I’ve been told it looks good from behind.” He wiggled his back end.
Unable to contain her giggles, Fianna slid under the water, and then sputtered to the surface.
“So, what did you wear?”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Fianna wrapped her arms around herself and leaned over.
Niall put his hands on his hips. “Come on, which swimsuit did you choose? Bikini or one piece?”
She shook her head vehemently, smothering another laugh.
At once it dawned on him. “Why, you little wench. Come closer, lass.” He stepped into the Jacuzzi after her, but quickly halted, unable to continue. “Wow, that’s hot. Ouch, oh, ouch.” He backed out, grasping for the edge.
While he was turned, Fianna shrieked and lunged from the Jacuzzi for her robe. She quickly draped it around her nude body.
“Hey, that’s not fair,” he said.
“Who’s ready for a massage?” A fair-haired, Nordic-looking couple appeared in the doorway to the spa.
“Saved by the masseuse,” Niall muttered. “I’ll remember this, I will.”
“Maybe you’ll get your chance later. Or maybe not.” She shrugged and winked at him over her shoulder. She’d never had so much fun with a man.
He caught her wrist and planted a kiss firmly on her mouth. “Next time I won’t bother to change.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Promises, promises.” She laughed and headed toward the massage rooms to have a quick shower before her massage.
When Fianna entered the massage room, the masseuse introduced herself and asked what type of massage oils she’d like. “Relaxing, invigorating, or sensual?”
Fianna hesitated, weighing her option. “I’m not sure.”
The woman rested a hand on her shoulder. “I think this is an evening for sensual oils,” she said with a knowing smile.
After her incredible massage, Fianna padded back to the pool area. Niall was already in the Jacuzzi. The sun had set while they were having their massages, and now the moon shone through the atrium glass, casting a slanting glow around his shoulders. His wet hair was brushed back, and his well-defined shoulders glistened with oil.
“Care to join me?” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “I have more of that Bordeaux you liked.”
“Tempt me more,” she said.
“I could if you’d let me.”
Fianna twirled her fingers in a circle to indicate that he turn around. With a sigh, Niall turned to pour a glass a wine for her, and she slipped off her robe. The water was warm, but not as hot as it had been. She slid in, feeling completely pampered and restored.
Niall handed a glass of red wine to her and held her gaze. “To a perfect day, and to you, Fianna. You shine as bright as the stars above.”
She grazed his lips and clinked his glass. “And to you, Niall. You’ve brought music to my life.”
He ran a hand along her back, sending shivers through her. She hesitated only slightly before moved into his embrace, resting her head against his broad chest. His heart was hammering against her cheek. He trailed his fingers reverently over her skin, awakening every cell within her. She nestled in the curve of his body.
They languished in the hot tub, becoming comfortable with each other. Fianna ran her hands along his strong cheekbones, down his neck, and onto his smooth, well-defined chest. She shifted her leg underwater, feeling nothing but bare skin. “No Speedo?”
He shook his head. “I want you to know me as I am. Whenever you’re ready, that is.” He brushed her lips with his, and then he poured another splash of wine in her glass. He tilted his head back. “Look up.”
She leaned her head back, and the sky was ablaze with a shower of stars above them. “Utterly amazing.”
“It is, isn’t it?” He waved his hand. “I’ve been so blessed, Fianna.”
“You’re very talented.”
“Many people are talented. I had a lucky day, that’s all. One day led to another, and then another…”
She heard a catch in his voice. “And then your luck ran out, didn’t it?”
With his eyes fixed on the sky, he spoke. “One day I had everything, and the next day everything that was important to me was gone.”
Fianna drew her hand across his jawline. She asked softly, “How did your wife die?”
He turned into her hand and kissed her palm, and then raised his eyes to hers. “Laila died of a brain aneurism. She was driving to meet me when it ruptured. The doctors say she died before the accident occurred.”
“You must have been devastated.” She saw traces of pain in his eyes.
He nodded. “She was also two months pregnant.”
Fianna slid her arms around him. “I’m so sorry you went through that. You must have loved her very much.”
“I did, and I still do. Love doesn’t die when a person leaves this world.”
“No, it wouldn’t.”
Niall sipped his wine. “After she died, I had to sort through her papers, and I found a journal she kept. She had a premonition, I believe. She wrote that if she died, she wanted me to find another to share my life with.”
Fianna blinked back tears, wishing that she’d known Laila, too. “She sounds like a generous woman who loved you.”
“She was.” Niall held his wine glass to the sky above them. “Here’s to you, Laila. Meet Fianna.”
Tears flowed from Fianna’s eyes as she raised her glass. She silently thanked Laila for sharing such a fine love with Niall. At that moment, she sensed a loving presence and felt as if Laila was surrounding them, giving her approval.
Niall turned to her, his eyes glistening. “Did you feel that?”
Fianna nodded in amazement. Something she couldn’t explain had touched her. “I did.”
“It felt like she gave us her blessing.” He kissed the top of her head. “Fianna, you’ve turned my whole world around.”
She smiled up at him. “And you’ve shown me your beautiful heart.” She was glad they’d talked about Laila. It might seem odd to some, she thought, to discuss his deceased wife while relaxing in a whirlpool and drinking wine, but she’d definitely felt a presence here. And it was good and pure.
Is this the man I’m destined to love? She usually didn’t believe in destiny—she thought people made their own fate, but here in Ireland, with a starry sky above, and the most incredible man she’d ever met beside her, destiny seemed quite plausible.
“Would you like to have a swim? The water is warm, and there’s a private grotto at the end of the pool.”
Fianna touched his face. “I’d like that very much.”
He eased out of the Jacuzzi and helped her out. Though they were nude, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Something had shifted between them; they’d already bared themselves to each other in a hundred little ways since they’d met.
They dipped into the warm saltwater, which felt silky on her skin, and pushed off from the edge, feeling the freedom of gliding through the water. They swam together, and when they reached the end of the pool, Niall led her through a mountain of rocks. A hidden lagoon opened before her.
“How romantic.” She laced her arms around Niall’s neck, and he bent to kiss her. He tasted of Bordeaux wine and saltwater and smelled of spicy wooded oils. Together they swirled in the lagoon, exploring and appreciating each other.
When they neared steps on the edge, Niall lifted her easily from the water and placed her on a wide lounging bed. He draped a cushy soft blanket around them. Holding himself above her, he caressed her face.
“Is this what you want, Fianna?”
She said not a word, but encircled his neck and brought him to her in answer. Soon they moved together as one, and Fianna felt a bliss like she had never known before.
All her worries—attorneys, mangled shoe
s, buyers— shrank and burst like champagne bubbles. In the end, what did any of it matter as long as you loved and were loved?
Fianna closed her eyes, and the world around them ceased to exist.
20
FIANNA WOKE IN Niall’s rumpled bed, which was still warm from their lovemaking. His arms were wrapped around her, and joy filled her like sunshine. She stroked his powerful, sinewy arm.
“Good morning, my love.” Niall shifted against her.
“I feel like I’m waking up from the most wonderful dream.”
“That was no dream. But with you, life is like a dream.”
She laughed softly. “Isn’t that a song?”
“You got me.” He raised himself on an elbow. “You know the first song I sang at Shane and Lizzie’s wedding?” He hummed and sang a few words.
“I love that song.”
His lips curved. “I wrote it for you.”
Fianna gazed into his sparkling green eyes. From any other man, that would’ve sounded like a line, but Niall was a genuine man. All night they’d made love, laughed, and shared feelings.
He rolled out of bed and sauntered to the baby grand piano in his bedroom. He perched on the stool and ran his fingers over the keys, singing to her. “I was drowning in the dark, thirsting for your love…”
Fianna loved it. She framed this moment in her mind: A beautiful nude man playing a song he’d written just for her on the piano. How did I get so lucky?
He finished the song, the final notes reverberating through her body like waves of pure love. Niall stood and offered his hand to her. “Mademoiselle, may I have this dance?”
“Why, of course.” Fianna swung her long legs over the bed and fell into his arms. He swung her around and executed a perfect dip. She threw her head back, laughing, and loving his romantic, playful nature.
“How about a special shower?” He spun her around, and then tangoed into the ivory marbled bathroom. He dipped her again and turned on a showerhead, and then he spun her around, turning on another spigot on the opposite wall. Soon they were surrounded by warm, gently pulsating water flowing from several showerheads lining the marble walls of the cavernous shower. He hugged her to him. “And now, for the pièce de résistance.” He pulled a chain and a waterfall flowed from the ceiling, showering them with oxygenated water filled with airy bubbles.
