“Don’t you think you should call your boss and tell him we’re okay?”
“I’m not playing by the rules anymore. I did, and it almost got us both killed. If they thought I was a rogue cop before, they haven’t seen anything yet.”
“All right,” Olivia said. “Whatever you think is best.”
A soft knock sounded at the door and Olivia walked over and opened it. Brendan stood outside with two paper bags. He handed them to Olivia. “I’ve got cat food. Why don’t you send Tommy out and I’ll feed him.” He looked over to Conor. “Liam’s here. We’re going to be casting off in about a half hour.”
Olivia set the bags on the bed, then picked up the cat and shooed him out the door. When she and Conor were alone again, she carefully opened the Styrofoam containers. “We have a hamburger…a hamburger…and-ah, something different-a cheeseburger.”
“My brother has very basic tastes when it comes to food,” Conor said.
Olivia plucked a French fry from the bag and held it out in front of Conor’s mouth. He grabbed it with his teeth and quickly devoured it. It was the best French fry he’d ever eaten and Conor wondered whether that had less to do with the chef and more to do with his dinner companion.
After they finished, Olivia cleaned up the wrappers and the soda cans, then took them out to the galley. When she returned, she stood in the doorway of the forward cabin, her hands clutched in front of her. “I guess I should let you get some rest. I’ll just find a spot for myself in-”
“No,” Conor said. “Stay here. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re close by.”
She gave the twin-size berth a long look and Conor could tell exactly what she was thinking. In order for both of them to sleep in it, they’d have to practically wrap their bodies around each other. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” she said, moving to sit on the edge of the berth.
He nodded, then closed his eyes. “Tell me a story,” he said. “When we were kids, my brothers and I always had a story before bed.”
“About what?”
“Fairies and gnomes and elves.”
“Well, I know the story of Thumbelina,” she said.
“Is that an Irish fairy?”
“No, I think it’s just a fairy tale.”
“I suppose that will have to do. Tell me, then.”
Olivia drew a deep breath and began to speak. Though her story seemed to be an odd amalgam of several different Disney movies, Conor really didn’t care. He just wanted to listen to her voice, to reassure himself that she was still safe. As she launched into a subplot that had something to do with a cricket, he reached out and took her hand between his, distractedly toying with her fingers.
His touch caused her to hesitate for a moment, as if the warmth from his fingers had swept the words from her head. But then the story continued, through his gentle exploration of the soft skin on the inside of her wrist and inner arm, past the point where he gently pulled her down next to him on the bed, and beyond the moment when he tucked her body against his. It was only then that he could finally close his eyes and sleep, when his arms were wrapped around her waist and the sweet curve of her backside was tucked in his lap.
Conor drifted in and out of sleep, the painkillers the doctor had given him causing fitful dreams. He remembered hearing the engines start and then the gentle motion of the boat as it cut through the water. Olivia slept soundly, her body soft and warm in his arms, her breathing slow and even. Now that they were on the water, he was certain he could keep her safe. And though he’d always hated The Mighty Quinn, he had to appreciate the old boat for taking them out of danger.
Salem was fifteen miles across Massachusetts Bay and a busy harbor town. The boat could get in and out without much notice. Though Conor wanted to put his plans all together in his head, his brain was too fuzzy to concentrate for long. Instead, he nuzzled his face into the curve of Olivia’s neck and closed his eyes again.
He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but the next thing he remembered was the boat bumping up against the dock. Olivia rolled slightly with the motion and he grabbed her tight to keep her from falling off the berth. She stiffened in his arms and he knew she had awakened. When she turned onto her back and glanced up at him, it was with uncomprehending eyes.
“We’re just tying up,” he whispered, her face so close to his that he could feel her breath on his skin.
She didn’t say anything, just stared into his eyes. And then Conor bent closer and touched his lips to hers. He really hadn’t expected her to respond, but when she did, he deepened the kiss, lost in the enticing taste of her mouth.
Everything about her was too much to resist and he didn’t want to make the effort anymore. He’d been alone for so long and, for the first time in his life, he’d found someone who could make him forget all of the barriers he’d built around his heart. She touched a spot, deep inside of him, that he hadn’t even known existed. And when he kissed her, he didn’t have to wonder whether his kiss was making promises he didn’t want to keep. For now, Olivia was his and that was all that mattered.
Her pale hair fanned out on the pillow and Conor ran his fingers through it, liquid and silken to his touch. She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around his neck, then teased at his bottom lip with her tongue. He sensed that her need for him was as acute as his was for her. And though he could spend the entire night just kissing her, the urge to explore her perfect body was just as overwhelming.
Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, a little voice-his cop voice-told him that spending the night in the same bed broke all the rules. And making love to her could end his career. “Why do you taste so damn good?” he murmured. “I want to stop but I can’t.”
She sighed softly, her fingers skimming over his face. “There are rules,” Olivia whispered, “against this…” Her tongue teased at his nipple. She trailed lower, nipping and biting, and driving him mad with need. “And against this…” she said, her fingers splaying across his belly, causing a flood of heat to rush to his lap.
He’d already decided that when it came to this case, the rules didn’t apply anymore. Someone in the department had nearly gotten them both killed. The police were supposed to be the good guys. Those were the rules. If they couldn’t follow them, then he wouldn’t either. “From now on, we make up our own rules,” he said. “And rule number one is that there will be no more rules.”
A playful smile quirked the corners of her mouth. “I like that rule.”
He laughed softly, then captured her mouth with his again. He’d never have guessed that behind her cool, sophisticated facade lurked an uninhibited temptress. Conor turned to pull her nearer, but the shift in his weight caused a sharp pain in his side, deep enough to steal his breath. He cursed softly. “This is not going to work,” he said. “I can barely move.”
“Then don’t,” Olivia said, straddling his hips and bracing her hands on either side of his head. “Rule number two. You must stay perfectly still.”
Her hair created a curtain around them and she dropped a kiss on his mouth and then another and another, dancing away when he tried to take more. When she straightened, Conor reached out and slipped his fingers beneath the hem of her sweater. He spanned her slender waist with his hands and reveled in the beauty and delicacy of her body.
She was made for his hands, every curve a perfect fit against his palms. Though he’d never touched her this way before, it was as if he knew her by instinct. Yet that didn’t stop him from wanting to explore and memorize every inch of her skin.
With other women, it had been all about him and his needs, the undeniable rush toward satisfaction. Maybe it was the way he and Olivia had begun, his focus on protecting her. Suddenly, he wanted to make her ache for him the way he ached for her. He needed to see the desire grow in her eyes and feel it in her hands, until nothing could stop them from the inevitable.
Conor slid his hands along her rib cage until he found the soft curves beneath her breasts. The silky fabric of her camisol
e beneath his palms enhanced every warm inch of her flesh. As if taking a cue from him, Olivia reached for the buttons of her sweater and slowly undid them. When she was finished, he reached up and skimmed the sweater off her shoulders and down along her arms.
He’d chided her for her underwear obsession at the motel, but now he understood. The lace edging of her camisole offered a tempting view of the cleft between her breasts and the silk clung to her body like a second skin, outlining the peaks of her nipples.
With her eyes fixed on his, her gaze challenging him to make her stop, Olivia reached for the hem of her camisole and pulled it up over her head, then shook her hair until it tumbled around her shoulders. Conor’s breath caught in his throat. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, her skin luminous in the soft light. He knew at that moment that he wanted her, more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life. But he schooled his need and promised himself that he’d go slow.
His reached up and cupped a breast in his palm, teasing at her nipple with his thumb. What bit of luck had brought her into his life? What had he done to deserve her? Whatever it was, Conor wasn’t about to question his good fortune. He’d simply enjoy it while it lasted. Never in a million years could he hope that Olivia would want a future with him.
But he did know one thing. He was fast falling in love with Olivia Farrell, with her beautiful eyes and her incredible body, with her stubbornness and with her vulnerability. With the way she made him shiver with anticipation. He slipped his hand beneath the hair at the nape of her neck and slowly drew her back to him, covering her mouth with his. The blood rushed hot through his veins and his pain was forgotten as he rolled her over beneath him.
His mouth ached to taste her, his fingers craved the feel of her skin. Slowly, Conor explored her body with both, gently arousing her desire then letting it ebb. He wanted this to last as long as it possibly could, for Conor wasn’t sure they’d have this chance again. But the more he touched her, the more irresistible she became.
Conor wasn’t sure at what moment they reached the point of no return. Perhaps it was when she stood beside the berth and slipped out of her jeans. Or maybe it was when he cast aside his boxers. But by the time she’d retrieved a condom from Brendan’s bedside table and slipped it over his hard shaft, he was certain he was lost.
She straddled his hips, then slowly sank down, taking all of him, to the hilt. For a long moment, Olivia didn’t move, her eyes closed, her head tipped back. Conor’s jaw went tight as the sight of her alone almost brought him to his peak and he realized that he’d relinquished all control. She was the seducer and he was the seduced.
As if caught in a dream, Olivia started to move above him, rocking slowly at first and then increasing her rhythm. It took all his willpower to wait, to tease and touch, to grasp her waist and slow her movement, until she was ready to join him. He waited for the signs, the soft sighs, the shallow gasps of breath that marked each thrust, the subtle tensing of her body.
And when she was ready, he touched her once more, at the spot where they were joined. She stilled, and then he felt her tighten around him in an exquisite spasm. She murmured his name, once, and then again, and then Conor let himself go, arching into her.
Waves of sensation shattered them both, leaving them breathless, a sheen of perspiration the only thing separating skin from skin. And when it was over and they’d both drifted back from the edges of passion, she curled up in his arms and closed her eyes.
He knew this time it had been different. They’d shared something that he’d never shared with a woman before, an intimacy so deep and stirring that it caused his heart to beat more strongly and his mind to sharpen. She’d broken through a barrier and touched his heart and, in that instant, he knew what it would be like to love a woman, so deeply that it defied reason.
Conor closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but he was afraid that when he woke up, she’d have slipped away in the night, like a dream. He turned his face into her hair and inhaled the scent, then ran his hand along her thigh. She was real and the pleasure they’d shared was real.
He didn’t want to let her go. Not now. Not ever.
OLIVIA WOKE sometime in the early morning hours, confused at first by her surroundings. Then she heard Conor’s soft, even breathing and the tiny edge of fear dissolved. She was safe, wrapped in his arms. For a long time, she watched his naked chest rising and falling, slowly, steadily. The lines of tension that had bracketed his mouth and eyes were finally gone and she gently smoothed her fingers over his face as if to erase the last traces of pain.
A wave of emotion washed over her. How had she grown so attached to this man in such a short time? They’d known each other less than seventy-two hours, yet she felt as if she’d already spent a lifetime with him. Circumstances had thrown them together, given them a common enemy and forced a trust that might have taken years to build, but in reality had taken no more than a day.
He had a beautiful body, lean and hard, smooth skin covering carved muscle. His broad shoulders and chest tapered to a flat belly and narrow hips. It had been so long since she’d been intimate with a man that Olivia had forgotten what the sight of the male form could do to her resolve.
Still, making love after such a short time wasn’t really her habit with men. But Conor was different. She trusted him with her life, why not trust him with her body? Though she’d only known him for a few days, that had been enough for her to see that he was a good man, an honorable man. And no matter what the future held for them, she was sure she’d never regret her choice.
But then again, she didn’t really have a choice. The first time Conor had touched her she’d been lost. What had happened between them was inevitable and so were the feelings that came with it. She tried to convince herself that she could separate sex from love-and maybe she could have with another man. But with Conor, her feelings were so intense, so undeniable, that she couldn’t tell where love began and sex left off.
For the next ten days, they’d live together in a world of their own making. And when it was time to go back to the real world, she’d have to deal with the consequences. Until then, she’d cherish every touch and every kiss.
Olivia drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly. The scent of coffee drifted through the chill morning air and she squinted in the low morning light to read her watch. “Six a.m.,” she murmured. Though she wanted to wake Conor with languid kisses and tempting caresses, to rediscover the passion they’d shared the night before, she knew he needed his rest.
She slowly rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb him. Piece by piece, she plucked her clothes off the floor and got dressed. She slipped out of the forward cabin and into the bathroom-or the “head” as Brendan had called it. After brushing her teeth with her fingers and raking her hands through her tangled hair, she ventured out to the main cabin, craving a hot cup of coffee.
Olivia expected to find Brendan up and about, but she walked into an entire cabinful of men. They all had gathered around the table, each of them with a steaming mug of coffee. Even Tommy was there, perched on a shelf and accepting small treats of table scraps. She paused, then smoothed her hands over her sweater. “Good morning,” she murmured, wondering if the events of last night were evident in her appearance.
Brendan pushed up from the table and smiled warmly. “Hey, Olivia. How’s the patient doing?”
She glanced back over her shoulder. “He’s still sleeping,” she replied. “I-I think he’s feeling…fine.” She felt a warm blush creep up her cheeks. He was better than just fine, she mused. He was incredibly gentle and intensely passionate. And after a night in bed with him, she felt exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.
“I don’t think you know everyone here. You met Dylan a few nights ago.” He pointed to the youngest man at the table. “This is Liam. And across from him are Sean and Brian.”
Olivia frowned. All of Conor’s brothers resembled each other with their dark hair and their unusual hazel eyes. But Sean a
nd Brian looked almost identical. “Twins?” she asked.
They nodded in unison. Olivia had been an only child but had always wondered about the bonds between siblings. They must care for Conor very much to leap to his aid so quickly. Somehow, she knew she’d come to no harm as long as the Quinn brothers were standing behind her.
“Come on,” Brendan said. “Have some coffee. Liam brought donuts and muffins. I hope you don’t mind- I fed your cat.”
Olivia found a place between the twins. Tommy watched her with wide eyes. She’d never considered her cat very sociable, but he seemed right at home among all these men. She noticed the empty tuna can on the table. Either Conor’s brothers had unusual tastes in breakfast food, or they’d been spoiling her cat rotten.
Brendan set a mug of coffee in front of her and she picked it up, grateful for the warmth. The brothers all stared at her, as if she were some kind of bizarre lab specimen and she shifted uneasily, not sure what to say.
“So, what do you do?” Dylan inquired. “I mean, when you and Conor aren’t dodging bullets?”
His teasing tone was so like Conor’s that Olivia immediately felt a level of comfort that she shouldn’t have felt among strangers. “I sell antiques. I have a small shop over on Charles Street.” She took a sip of her coffee. “That’s how this all started. My partner was laundering money for a mobster.”
“And how is it, living twenty-four seven with our Conor?” Sean asked.
“It’s nice,” Olivia said.
Brian chuckled. “Nice. Con?”
“He’s not bad. He takes good care of me. Sometimes he gets a little impatient, but that’s only because he’s concerned for my safety. And I-”
“What are you boys up to?”
They all turned to find Conor standing at the far end of the cabin. He’d managed to pull on a pair of jeans but hadn’t bothered with the top button. His hair was tousled and the bandage was stark white against his rib cage.
Conor Page 10
