Something inside him had broken the day his dad had left. And he’d had no idea how to fix it.
So he had buried his anger and disappointment and tried to turn it into something positive. Determined never to give anyone the chance to hurt him like that.
‘But you know what? My mum didn’t deserve that, and neither did the girls. If he wasn’t prepared to provide for his family then I knew I had to man up and do it instead.’
And had done so every single day since.
The water babbled and gurgled, cutting through the thick silence of the night. His chest heaved as he fought back the memories, the fear and the anger.
Kara ran her fingers over his ribcage. ‘I’m sure your dad was devastated too. I’m sure he did love you. Still does.’
‘Funny way of showing it.’
Her palm flattened against his chest, her voice thick with sadness. ‘I’m so sorry.’
So this was how distraction from his reality had panned out. Delving even deeper into his past. So not what he’d hoped for.
He tried to lighten the moment. ‘Sure, it’s fine, Kara.’
‘It is now, yes. Look at what you’ve achieved. Just look at you, Declan. A career most people could never hope for. Sisters who are so, so proud of you—and you of them. A farm that provides food and an income, a beautiful house. More...so much more than many people have, and all because of you.’
She curled into him, hugging him close, and he felt the weight inside his chest begin to lift.
‘It is fine—it’s better than fine.’
He nuzzled his face into her hair and just for a few moments he let himself believe it could be.
They lay down on the grass, listening to the eerie night sounds, the fresh country air whispering over them. The familiar smells of his home mingled with Kara’s scent. Her heat pressed against him; her hair tickled his chin.
Awareness prickled through his veins.
‘You know what I think?’ she whispered.
He doubted it was anything like what was running through his mind. But a man could hope. ‘No.’
‘I think we say to hell with them. To hell with everything they made us feel, the disappointment and the hate.’ She rolled on to him, straddling him. ‘We should let it all go. We deserve better. Much, much better. We need to forget it and take something for ourselves. What do you say?’
She made it sound so easy.
The air around them shimmered and suddenly her mouth was very close. Her breasts rubbed against his chest and he could feel them pebbling as she leaned closer. Her scent enveloped him and he grew hard again in an instant. Very hard. He wanted to kiss that mouth, those breasts, to take her to the edge of oblivion. To do it again and again until neither of them had any memories apart from this, here. Now.
‘You have any ideas?’
‘Oh, Declan, yes. Yes, I do.’
And then she was kissing him—hungry, hot kisses that obliterated the anger and filled his heart with something else. Something much better indeed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
KARA KISSED HIM because she had to get the cruel image of a boy trying to save his family out of her head. His eyes were filled with a lifetime of shadows, of hate and regret and sorrow, and she wanted to erase that too. To smooth down his edges, to change the blackness into light. She kissed him because she wanted to feel something, to be wanted.
And because she wanted him.
She wanted Declan more than anything she’d ever wanted before.
Meshing her hands into his hair, she kissed him with everything she had, told him with that kiss just how much he had touched her heart. And he kissed her back with the same longing, the same promises, the same damned wanting that had fizzed around them since that ball.
He rolled her onto her back and kissed hot trails down her neck, stripped off her top and bra and exposed her nipples to the cooling air. But his heat warmed her, made her dizzy, until she just wanted more of him. And more.
When his palm cupped her breast she arched against him, shocked by the moan coming from her throat, by how much she ached to have him inside her. When his mouth clamped her nipple and a shiver of desire rolled down her spine she thought she could now definitely die happy.
‘God, Kara, I want you so much. It’s killing me.’
His voice was deep and hoarse, more a growl than words. His eyes had darkened, were fierce and glittering with a need that she knew was mirrored in her own pupils.
‘Have me. Take me.’
‘Kiss me,’ he whispered.
And she did. Again and again. Until her mind was almost numb and her lips were swollen and sore yet still hungry for more.
Her hands met his chest and she dragged off his shirt, buttons popping and flying who cared where. Then she pressed against him, slick skin on skin, and a primal, feral need shuddered through her. Grass tickled her back and the stream played a gentle backing track to his breathing, his words.
‘Now these. Off.’ He pushed off her wellies. No, he tried to push one off but it got stuck, so he tore himself away from her, knelt and tugged again at the first one, then the other, toppling backwards on the riverbank. His roar echoed through the trees. Somewhere an owl hooted.
She couldn’t help the laugh. He looked magnificent, biceps bulging, muscled chest puffed out as he stood above her. All sexed-up because of her. ‘But, Declan, I thought you wanted me to leave my shoes on?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Crazy, beautiful woman. How can I get to your jeans if you leave them on?’
He knelt and slid his hand to her jeans button, then he inched them down over her legs. Slowly. Too damned slowly.
‘Besides, those leprechauns do nothing for me...but those ruby-red shoes...’ He groaned. ‘Man, next time...’
He pressed kisses down her abdomen, making her inhale sharply, sending spasms of need pulsing through her.
‘Next time you put those on.’
Next time. He wanted a next time and they hadn’t even finished this time. Had barely started. And, God, she definitely didn’t want it to end. ‘Whatever you want.’
‘Everything. I want it all, Kara.’
And she could tell just how much he wanted her as he pressed against her. She unzipped his jeans, shrugged them off and took hold of his erection, felt him harden even more, felt the heat surge through him, the shift in his breathing. Until it was almost impossible to breathe herself for needing him inside her.
‘Declan, now, please. I need you. Now.’
His fingers roamed her thighs, opened her legs and then he was sheathed and over her, entering her, pressing deep and hard. And there was nothing then except the sheer power of this man and this never-ending need.
‘Kara. Kara. My God, you are so beautiful.’
Her name on his lips was like music. His mouth was against her cheek, against her ear, in her hair with every wonderful thrust. Hard at first, frantic, desperate until she was so close...so close. Then he slowed the rhythm and looked at her, holding back as the pressure inside her, outside her, over her, started to increase. Slowly, too slowly, not slowly enough, he kissed her with such need, such passion, that nothing else mattered. Nothing but this.
‘Declan... I... I...’
‘I know... I know...’
She was on the edge and that fired something urgent in him. Declan shifted her hips as he felt her clamp around him, drove deeper inside her, wanting to savour every moment, to ride sensation after sensation. Her hair pooled over the grass. Her body arched as he held her waist and rocked her.
But he held back. It would be too easy to let loose and put his own pleasure first. He wanted to show her that not all men were like her husband and his father—that there were good men too, who would put her needs first. This was for Kara—for everything s
he’d had to endure.
He put all thoughts of consequences to one side. He didn’t know what would happen next—couldn’t promise her more than this. Didn’t know anything past this moment. He wanted it to last forever, but he was riding an edge and it wouldn’t take much to plunge him over.
He slanted his mouth across hers, tasted her again, ran his hands along the smooth soft shape of her curves, gripped her bottom and pressed deeper.
‘Declan...’ She was panting now, her head rocking back. ‘God, yes.’
And he tried to hold on just a moment longer, clasping her close, stroking her hair, looking into those deep emerald eyes misty with satisfaction. But when her hands gripped his back and she pulled him closer, moving her body in perfect rhythm as she moaned deep and long and loud, he was lost. And only Kara could show him the way back.
* * *
‘So, will you give me a ride back to uni or not?’ Roisin grabbed a rosy apple from the bowl on the kitchen benchtop and bit down hard. ‘Only I can go with Ronan and he’s leaving in a few minutes. Tell me now.’
‘Don’t be so rude. I’m sure Declan will offer when he’s ready.’ Niamh smiled at Kara and rolled her eyes. Then winced as she dodged a face full of porridge from Declan Junior’s well-aimed spoon. It landed next to Kara on the table with a plop. ‘Nice try, sonny. Next time see if you can get your evil Auntie Roisin square on the nose.’
The little boy grinned and loaded his spoon. Kara could see the glint in his eye. Like uncle, like nephew. It seemed the Underwood genes ran deep.
‘Nah-ah. Only joking.’ This time Niamh made sure the food went where it was supposed to. Then she lowered her voice. ‘I can’t thank you enough for bringing him over. The first time he brings home a girl...and, well, I’m so glad it was you. Don’t be too long coming back again. Any nonsense from His Lordship over there and you get on to me, d’you hear? He might be my older brother but I’m not averse to kicking his bu—’ She picked up a large bowl and smiled sweetly to the rest of the family. ‘Now, who wants the rest of these eggs?’
Sunday morning and everyone had gathered for yet another meal. The scent of sausages and bacon had drawn Kara from the cottage, but she didn’t feel hungry. After a sleepless night she didn’t feel anything at all except numb, and yet at the same time overwhelmed.
She’d fooled herself into believing just for a few moments that making love with Declan wouldn’t carve a piece of him onto her heart, wouldn’t matter.
It did.
His story had touched her. His passion and determination had lit something deep in her. She hadn’t just got a slice of him in her heart—she had a gaping hole filled with him.
This wasn’t a juvenile infatuation or some kind of wishful thinking. She loved him. In such a short, intense space of time she’d fallen completely for a player who, underneath it all, wasn’t a player at all.
He was a man trying hard to carve himself some space in a life that was full, trying to squeeze some joy from a life that had been tarnished.
She loved him. The realisation hit her square in the chest as she heard his laughter and turned instinctively towards it with a leap in her heart.
She loved him, and instead of being the joyous thing Briana believed in it was terrifying. To lose control of her feelings—to put herself there again. The one thing Kara had tried so hard never to allow to happen.
Swallowing back the ache, she turned away.
‘Are you ready?’ Declan called to her from under a spaghetti of chubby arms and legs and a lot of giggling.
She wanted to run away, far away, and yet she’d never be ready to leave this. For the first time ever she felt as if she truly belonged somewhere, and knowing she’d never come back was breaking her in two. ‘Give me a few minutes to get my things sorted. I won’t be long.’
‘Okay, well, I’ll go with Ronan, then. Finally I get an answer I can understand.’ Roisin sighed. ‘Lovely to meet you, Kara. Please keep doing whatever it is you’re doing to Declan...it suits him. He’s actually nice.’
His sister wrapped her into a big warm hug and Kara squeezed her eyes shut.
‘And come back soon.’
She couldn’t keep doing this. ‘Bye, Roisin. Keep up with those studies. If ever you get the chance to come over to London I’d love to show you around.’
‘That would be great. I’d love to. You can count on it.’
And then she was gone, along with Ronan. A thick weight pressed in Kara’s chest. Two down, another dozen or so goodbyes to go.
Somehow she managed to get a few moments alone in her bedroom to pack away her things and take stock. Although she’d been taking stock for hours—and it had got her precisely nowhere. No matter how much she tried to fill her lungs with fresh country air she still had trouble breathing.
She could not let Declan know her true feelings and she certainly didn’t know his—couldn’t guess. She couldn’t turn a weekend into something more. Couldn’t expect him to invest the same kind of emotion she’d foolishly invested.
And besides—they were colleagues. He was her boss and they’d crossed a line. What the hell had they been thinking? She couldn’t love him. But she did.
‘Time to go, Kara. Give me your bag and I’ll put it in the car.’
He was standing in the doorway, but he didn’t come in and kiss her as she’d thought he might. He just gave her a faint smile, then turned to wait for her, avoiding eye contact.
Last night they’d stumbled back up the hill satiated and exhilarated. Stopping to kiss every few steps until it had taken an age to get home. He’d cuddled against her in bed and they’d made love again. Then at some point in the night she’d fallen into a feverish sleep. And into regret.
Not regret that she’d slept with him, but that she couldn’t...wouldn’t...shouldn’t do it again.
Now he was decidedly distant. Did he think it had been a mistake too? Was he struggling with what next?
It would be so easy to carry on as if everything would be fine. To pretend everything could be fine. But she was tired of pretending now. She just wanted to go home. Alone.
‘Declan. We need to talk...about us.’
He put his finger against her lips and shook his head. ‘Not here, Kara. Not now. We have to go. Everyone’s waiting to say goodbye.’
Including him, it would seem.
‘Okay. Then let’s do it.’ With a sigh she closed the door behind her and followed him to the leaving committee, that ache in her chest intensifying.
The hardest goodbye was Mary’s. Surrounded by the little ones, Declan’s mother wiped away a tear. ‘So grand to have you here, Kara, my love. You must come back and visit us soon.’
‘I’ll try.’
‘And I think I might come over to see you and that grand clinic you have.’ She touched her damaged cheek. ‘Who knows what you could do to make things a little better, right? I think it’s time.’
Kara watched with a heavy heart as Mary hugged her son. How long would it be until he came back again? And who would he bring next time? No—she wouldn’t allow herself to think that. Couldn’t imagine standing back and letting someone else love him. This was, she knew, special...for them both. And very special for Mary. Two women loving one man.
But was it harder to be his mother and have him gone from her day-to-day life, but to be tied to him for ever? Or to be Kara—to have him gone from her life but to see him every day?
Fighting back tears, she settled into the car en route to Dublin. The grey road stretched out ahead and the sky was black with rain over fields that seemed to have changed from lush green to brown overnight. She didn’t know what to say, even where to begin.
So she stuck to the mundane, her throat too full of goodbyes to start another. ‘Looks like the weather’s changed for the worse.’
‘
They say if you don’t like the weather here, just wait five minutes. It’s fickle like that.’ He shrugged and looked ahead, retreating further and further into whatever black mood he’d created.
She couldn’t bear the thought of this kind of pointless half-hearted small talk and shopping and sightseeing and more pretending for the next few hours. ‘Declan, I don’t think I can face shopping.’
‘Okay.’
He glanced across to her, hands white on the steering wheel, his jaw tight. She wanted to hug him close, to look forward to a future with him in it—at work and at home. In a house like his. She wanted to rewind to last night, wanted him to kiss her again and tell her she was marvellous. But mostly, she wanted not to have fallen in love with him at all.
‘Shall I see if we can get an earlier flight?’
‘Yes. Yes, that would be good, I think. All things considered.’ Not marvellous at all. Not even a bit.
His eyes narrowed—and was that a flicker of relief there too? Her heart began to break. There really was no going back.
‘Okay. If that’s what you want.’
‘Yes. Yes, it is.’
So instead of finding the craic in Dublin’s fair city and seeing the splendour of Trinity College they landed in a cold and dreary Heathrow in the early afternoon. The crowds pressed in as they jostled through Arrivals and all she wanted to do was get home to her apartment and pull her sheets over her head—like Safia had—and shut the world out.
As the underground train rattled towards the city Declan turned to her, his eyes clouded, voice flat. ‘Thanks very much for helping me out this weekend. You were amazing. I hope you didn’t hate it too much.’
Helping him out. Was that all it was, in the end? Yes. It was. And she’d been under no illusions—apart from her own.
That damned lump was back in her throat again. ‘No, it was wonderful. Thanks for inviting me.’
‘You know...it was amazing. Really, the best.’
But... There was a but. There had to be a but.
He hesitated. His face closed in and she thought for a moment he was going to kiss her, but he played with a lock of her hair instead, running it through his fingers, back and forth. Judging by his frown a battle was being fought in his head. She didn’t know what or who was going to be the winner but she had a bad feeling it wouldn’t be her.
200 Harley Street: The Shameless Maverick Page 15
