* * *
‘So this is the place where I grew up. Not much more than a village, really.’
Declan walked Kara along the cobbled main street of one of the prettiest places she’d ever visited.
The road was flanked with quaint shopfronts painted in pastels: pink, blue and white. Tiny flags wove across the road and back again; flowers adorned each windowsill. It was like something from a film, from the last century, from centuries ago.
‘Gosh, it’s so beautiful. How could you ever leave?’
‘Because it’s tiny and there’s nothing here for me. At least not job-wise.’
‘Well, maybe you should have built a hospital as well as your houses and barns.’
He laughed, a little more relaxed now, she noticed, as they’d put distance between themselves and the farm. But there was still an edge there, and she couldn’t help thinking it had a lot to do with last night.
‘Steady now, girl. I’m not Superman.’
‘Well, really? That’s a shame. There was me thinking...’
He looked at her quizzically and there was a warning in his voice not to mention last night. ‘Thinking what?’
Actually, once again she hadn’t been thinking at all. Not thinking when she’d lain in his arms, when she’d taken him inside her and almost wept at the pleasure. Not thinking about tomorrow, or being back at work, or how she would extricate her heart from all of this when the time came.
Her heart. Huh. She tried to put everything into perspective. It was only sex. That was all. Natural and normal. The logical conclusion of attraction.
It wasn’t...couldn’t...be more than that.
‘Ah, nothing.’
Heat flared in her chest at the realisation that it could be, might be, more than that, and she fished around for something to distract her—something that wasn’t him and the thought of last night. Of how amazing he’d made her feel.
Glancing across the road, she saw a pharmacy. ‘Hey, I’ve had a thought. Why don’t we print off some of those photos I took last night and put them in a frame for your mum? I got some good pictures. I’m sure she’ll like them.’
He looked bemused, but shrugged. ‘You don’t think the scarf you bought her is enough for a birthday present?’
‘Well, it can be a thank-you-for-having-me gift instead, then. Or an extra present from you, if you like?’ She hesitated to say from us. ‘I don’t want those lovely pictures to go to waste when all they’ll do is stay on my laptop.’
She dragged him into the pharmacy and handed over the camera’s memory card. Then they meandered through the shops along the main street while they waited for the photos to print.
Presently they came across an antiques shop. Inside was a cornucopia of old-style Ireland. Wicker baskets and old rusted irons, heavy wooden furniture and cloth embroidered in Celtic symbols. Nothing like Declan’s place, but everything like his mum’s.
Kara pointed to a silver picture frame with spaces for three photographs. ‘Look, that’s beautiful. Let’s buy that.’
‘Why?’ he asked later as they sat in a café flicking through the prints. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Why not? Declan, you’ve got a lovely family here. I just want to celebrate it.’ She showed him a picture of the little ones sticking out their tongues and laughed. ‘How about this? Or this...?’
It was the photo of him and his mum in the kitchen.
‘This. This one definitely.’
He shook his head, his mouth a grim line. ‘I told you, she doesn’t do photos.’
‘Why? She looks beautiful in this. Look at it. You can’t see her scars—all you can see is a very proud woman who has survived.’ Kara’s heart squeezed. ‘Give it to her, Declan. I’m sure she’ll love it. Would you give a decent photo to Niamh or Briana?’
‘I guess.’ Shaking his head, he hauled in oxygen. ‘I just never really...’
‘Really what?’
He didn’t look at her. ‘Could see past those damned scars.’
And if he felt almost responsible for them being there Kara could understand that. But if he was looking for absolution then she wasn’t the one to give it. It had to come from within him.
She was beginning to understand just what made it difficult for Declan to get close to anyone. Responsibility wasn’t just about giving things to people, it was about risking your heart with them...and he couldn’t do that. He’d been hurt badly, she thought, and he was all about protecting his family. But most of all himself.
‘But if you can’t see past them then how the hell will she?’
For a few moments he stared into his coffee cup. Kara couldn’t read him. The day had been dotted with moments of reflection—him, her. She could see him building the barriers between them again.
‘Okay, you’re right. I’ll give it to her. Thanks.’
She wanted to reach over and kiss a smile back on to his face. She’d lost count now of the kisses. ‘So, what’s on the agenda now?’
‘Ah...’ His eyes glittered and he shook off his mood. ‘I’m torn between washing down the slurry pit or—’
‘No way. You brought me here to do some sightseeing, not deal with cow poo.’
‘You didn’t let me finish...’ Now his eyes positively sizzled with promise. ‘Or we could just go back to the cottage?’
He didn’t need to explain any further. An afternoon in bed with Declan certainly appealed. Hell, she couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do. There was only one night left, after all, before they went back to being colleagues.
Picking up the pictures, he secured three into the frame and went to put the rest back in the envelope. One dropped out onto the table between them.
The one Niamh had taken. The happy couple. Kara gasped. The way she looked up at Declan, her body turned into his, her arm secured around his waist, head tilted...the smile that laid open her heart. And the way his hand lay across her shoulder, possessive—but adoring.
God. Her heart felt as if it was rubbed raw. Was that how they looked to everyone else? Truly, heart-stoppingly, gut-wrenchingly connected?
Panic rose from her stomach and tightened like a vice. This couldn’t happen.
She couldn’t feel like that—as if he was meant for her. As if this time—this time—things might work.
She couldn’t allow her heart to be blown wide-open again.
She cleared her throat. ‘I’m thinking horse-riding might be nice. Or we could babysit the kids while Niamh goes shopping.’
Anything. Anything that would stop her getting closer, falling deeper, losing herself further in Declan Underwood.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘MAM LOVES THE pictures. Thank you.’ Declan found Kara sitting on a wooden bench in the garden, illuminated only by thick yellow moonlight.
He’d done his duty and given his mum more attention than she’d ever wanted, had helped around the farm and managed a horse-ride with Kara. Now the birthday cake had been cut and eaten and his family had settled down to watch a movie.
And he just needed a little distance from everyone. Except Kara. Seemed he couldn’t keep distance from her no matter how much he tried.
Curling her wellie-clad feet underneath her bottom, she smiled. ‘See. I told you she’d like them.’
‘You know, I never realised just how much stronger she’d become over the years.’
‘Well, Niamh would say it’s because you don’t get over to see her enough. But I’d say it’s because you treat her the same way you always have. With respect, but pity too.’ Kara shifted as he sat next to her. ‘She doesn’t need that now.’
‘And you’re always right?’
She nodded and her hair bobbed around her face. ‘Obviously.’
‘And smug too.’
‘Takes one to know one.’ She turned to look at him and wrinkled her nose as she smiled. ‘I was meaning to ask you—why didn’t you take over the family business, become a farmer like your dad?’
He cleared his throat as he tried to counteract the instinctive stiffening of his muscles at the mention of his father. ‘No money in it. Not really. I needed something else, something more. Something...a long way from here.’
‘You know, every time I mention your dad you close up just a little bit more.’
Busted. ‘Bluntness just rolls off you, eh? You’re not exactly one of those meek conformist women, are you?’
She shrugged. ‘Believe me, I’ve tried and tried to fit my big cuboid persona into a round hole. And failed. Too many times to count.’
‘Oh?’
She nibbled at her bottom lip and he could see her weighing up what to say. Silence stretched. He understood why she’d prefer to keep her secrets, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to hear them.
‘Too many times...?’
She sighed and peered straight ahead, her fingers gripped tightly together. ‘Rob thought I should have been different... Well, let’s just say I was a huge disappointment to him.’
‘How could you ever be a disappointment?’
She shrugged. ‘We started out wanting the same things, or at least I thought we did. But after he joined up he changed. He became more demanding, more possessive and authoritarian. It was his way or no way. He’d always said he was going to stay in the army for a few years, then get out...but that changed and he wanted to stay on for longer and longer. It was all about him and nothing about what I wanted or the dreams we’d made together. And I wasn’t allowed to complain. Just comply.’
‘So what? He wanted a divorce? Or...? Don’t tell me he hurt you?’ Acid rose in his stomach as he fought an intense primal anger at the thought of anyone laying a finger on Kara’s perfect body.
She shook her head, her voice unsteady. ‘Not physically. But the pressure was there always...to be the perfect wife, to do what was expected, not to ask for anything that I wanted, not to expect better...or more. God, I tried so hard to make it work. I wanted it all so badly. I wanted the dream. It was there, all I had to do was step into it, and yet...it wasn’t a dream at all. I thought if I tried to love him more it would be enough love for both of us.’
Declan’s gut contracted. The man had clearly been an idiot. ‘You were so young, though. How did you even know what you were doing?’
‘Yeah. Pretty tragic to realise at twenty-two years old that you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life and you’re stuck. That you are way better at working than you are at loving.’ She squeezed her hands together in her lap. ‘I believed those vows, Declan. I loved him. I committed myself to him for life.’ Her eyes glistened. ‘Hard to admit it, but I was—plain and simple—married to the wrong man. It took me a long time to figure it out.’
Hell, he’d seen that before—right here in these damned fields, in what became a pile of smouldering ash. ‘You didn’t leave?’
Her brows came together. ‘I didn’t want to face the truth. I had enough trouble reconciling that sometimes love just isn’t enough to keep two people together. I couldn’t actually put voice to that fact.’ She sighed. ‘And when he died it all seemed such a waste—he could have been happier without me, with someone else.’
His stomach hit his boots. He imagined her as a teenager in a wedding dress, living a dream. The harsh reality she’d faced when it had crumbled around her despite how hard she’d worked to save it. So young. Too young.
Declan’s heart jittered. He tipped up her chin and looked into her eyes. ‘God, Kara, there are good men out there—men who will cherish and love you and who will willingly nurture you. But I do understand. I know enough about selfish men to write the goddamned book.’
‘Your dad?’ Her hand was at his cheek now.
Breathe. He nodded and stared out into the darkness. ‘Yes, but let’s just forget him too.’
She gave him a wobbly smile as she slid into his open arms and leaned her head against his chest. This was supposed to be about her...just about her. She looked to him for some kind of understanding or absolution.
‘Good to know I’m not the only messed-up one.’
‘We’re all messed up somehow, Kara. You’ll be fine. You are more than fine. You’re marvellous.’ He squeezed her against him, then stood up, pulling her with him. ‘Come on, let’s walk and clear our heads. Think about what we could do tomorrow.’
He needed to get away from the house he’d tried to build with his bare hands because of a dumb-ass man who’d pleased no one but himself. So he grasped her fist and wandered through the fading light towards the open fields. He’d moved to London to get away from all this... He never shared this stuff—not with Leo or any of the Hunter Clinic guys, not with his friends. Memories were best left alone as far as he was concerned. Until they threatened to overwhelm you.
‘Talk to me, Declan. Tell me about your dad.’
‘No. It won’t make you feel any better.’
She squeezed his hand, her voice less shaky now. ‘It can’t make me feel much worse. Can it?’
How blissfully ignorant she was. And she should stay that way. ‘Look at the stars, Kara. A bit different to the sky in Australia?’
She tipped her head back and stared upwards. ‘A little. It’s bigger and brighter in Australia, is all. And the constellations are in a different place. Now, stop avoiding it.’
And, yes, that was what he’d done for years. Buried everything deep and got on with making a better life. A life that was so damned full he didn’t have time for this...sharing and sentiment and drama. Yes, she had some—as he’d suspected. But instead of being irritating it had cut him deep.
She stopped dead and hugged her arms around him until most of her pressed against a lot of him. ‘It’s only fair. I’ve told you my guilty secrets—now it’s your turn. And I’m not moving until you do.’
‘That’s not much of a threat. I like it like this. Very much.’
He took the opportunity to smooth his hands down her back and press her against a lot more of him. And wondered whether getting hard in the middle of an intense personal conversation was against someone’s rules. Clearly not against his. But then, he never had personal conversations like this, so he could put it down to rookie error.
She dropped her hold and took two steps back. ‘Okay...so no hugs until you talk.’
‘Would you ever grow up?’
‘No. I don’t want to. Growing up sucks. As I found out to my cost.’ The smile slipped. ‘But I guess I’m the only one big enough to open my heart.’
And even though he knew about this kind of game, because his sisters had played it too many times, and even though he knew not to rise to her challenge, that once he’d started he’d find it hard to lock his anger away again, he felt the words rising within him. Because Kara had that way about her that made you want to tell her the truth.
He looked back up the hill towards the house, saw the light in the kitchen. Remembered how the light had filled him with terror that night. The light and the thick smoke, the crackle, the orange sparks rising into the black sky. An acrid smell that had filled his lungs.
‘Dad had gone out for a drink that night—nothing unusual. “You’re in charge, boy,” he’d said as he’d left. He always did that. It was our...’ his voice cracked at the irony ‘...in joke. I was in my room and heard screaming from the lounge. My mum was yelling at me there was a fire and to get the girls out. Thick black smoke was everywhere. Heat. The smell. But I managed to get to them in the back bedroom and fought my way down with them. One by one.’
Kara’s hand cupped her mouth. ‘I can’t imagine the terror.’
‘I thought Mum was outside. But I couldn’t find her. I ca
lled and tried to go back in but I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t get to her. I tried. Tried. But the more I tried the hotter the flames and the thicker the smoke became. I couldn’t breathe. I thought she’d be dead. I thought...I’d let her die. Then suddenly Dad was there, taking control, running in to what looked like a furnace. And then I thought I’d lose them both.’
And, to his eternal shame, he’d hoped and prayed that if the worst thing happened and only one person got out alive it would be his father.
‘Then he strode out with her in his arms.’
Kara stroked his back as they walked down towards the stream at the bottom of the hill. ‘You must have been so scared.’
Desperate. But his hero father had saved the day. At that moment the thirteen-year-old Declan had thought he couldn’t love his father more.
‘Mum was in and out of hospital. She was in pain, grew depressed and withdrawn with her injuries. And Dad didn’t help. He couldn’t look at her. Wouldn’t tolerate her black moods. He began staying out more and more. Left me to do more of the work around the place—stayed out overnight. I wanted to ask him what we’d done wrong, why he didn’t want to be around us. But the look in his eyes was so cold. And then one day he took me to one side and told me he’d met someone else so he was leaving. That was the last time I saw him.’
Kara shook her head against his heart. ‘After everything you’d already been through...’
‘In sickness and in health. That’s what he promised. To love her. To love us all. Mum took it badly. She believed he left her because of her scars and it sent her spiralling into a black depression. I thought...I thought at one point she’d never get better. She was damaged. Devastated. And she thought it was all because of how she looked.’
He managed to bite back the bitterness he’d felt for so long.
‘You don’t walk away from the people you love, no matter what happens. Not if love means anything.’
Declan had grown up loving that man with every cell in his body. There’d been a bond, he’d thought, sacred between father and son.
200 Harley Street: The Shameless Maverick Page 14
