A blink later and unbeknownst to the women, Seamus and Liam entered Clara’s flat through the same door.
Clara had decided that a fortnight without seeing Danny was long enough. She’d missed him more with each passing day.
Every evening, he’d rung from London. Besides entertaining her with hilarious accounts of pompous lawyers conducting their endless business meetings, he’d encouraged Clara to recount details of her childhood. She’d told him about her brief time in the orphanage in Italy and her happier upbringing in Ireland. The wonderful life she’d enjoyed with her loving, adoptive Irish parents had dimmed her memories of her desolate orphanage days.
He’d listened intently, interjecting affirmations, urging her to talk for hours. During their lengthy conversations, he’d listened as though she were the most important person in the world. On several occasions, she’d attempted to shorten their nightly talks, reminding herself that he was a billionaire businessman with a thousand other concerns vying for his attention. Still, his interest in her seemed insatiable and the affection she felt for him had only deepened.
Now she counted the hours until his return.
During Danny’s two weeks away from Farthing, she’d thought she’d seen Ian several times as she’d walked to and from the city centre. After all, the burly guy was hard to miss. She’d asked Danny once about Ian’s whereabouts. He’d denied that Ian was in Farthing, vaguely remarking that Ian was working on some project in Dublin before changing the subject.
Even stranger, Anna had also denied that Ian was in Farthing, offering an ambiguous excuse that Ian was needed in Dublin for some project. Anna had kept herself scarce, explaining that she was applying to several universities and working on applications.
Despite all that denying, Seamus, on the other hand, had never seemed happier.
On March 17, Saint Patrick’s Day, Clara returned home immediately after work. The night hummed with festivity, and as she’d walked from the bus, her nostrils had been overwhelmed by the smells of pub food and thick, dark beer.
She met Seamus outside the street door to her building. He was dressed in a new pair of denims, an indigo-colored hoodie, and his brimmed tweed hat.
They faced each other with only a patch of moonbeam lighting the sidewalk between them. The streetlight had been broken weeks before and had never been fixed.
Clara fished in her pocket for her keys. “Where are you going?”
He lit a cigarette, the flare of the match showing every unshaven stub on his square chin. “I’m workin’ on a deal to buy a new car. You’ve said that your car isn’t worth fixin’.”
“It isn’t. However, the car dealers are all closed at this hour.”
“This here’s a private negotiation, Clara,” Seamus drawled in an icy tone.
“We don’t need a car. We can walk most places and I ride the bus to work. If you’ve saved any extra money, use it to pay your gambling debt.”
“It’s paid.”
“How?”
“I’m savvy with my money, Clara, and I worked out a deal with the bookies.” He smoked silently for a beat. “And now I want a car. Furthermore, I won’t allow my little sister to catch a bus to work anymore.”
“You don’t earn enough money to afford a car.” Nasty little tendrils of suspicion began to take root in her mind. Was he gambling again? Was that how he’d gotten so much money in so little time?
“The car is an old banger, but it runs.” Seamus frowned at her censorious tone. “Don’t fret. I’m takin’ on extra hours at the coffee shop and your man has actually given me a raise.”
“He’s not my man.”
“Yeh, right.” Seamus flicked the ashes of his cigarette in quick, juddering movements. “Besides, my friend’s letting me buy the car on credit.”
“Who is this mysterious friend?”
Seamus expelled an enormous ring of blue hazy smoke and squinted at Clara in the patch of moonbeam. “She’s a fine, large doorfull of a woman. I’ll let you meet her soon.”
Clara smiled, trying to think positively. A good, sturdy woman would bring joy to Seamus’s life. A good woman was exactly the person he needed.
She drew back to admire him. Her strong-willed brother, so brawny, so dapper in his new clothes and tweed hat.
“I’ll be home for the evening,” she said, “and Danny’s ringing me at nine. You’ll not be out late? Saint Patrick’s Day is always mad here, and there’ll be trouble brewing.” She extended her arms for a hug. He narrowed his eyes and tapped his foot, visibly fidgeting.
She dropped her arms. “Good luck with your car deal.”
Seamus threw the still-smoldering cigarette on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his shiny black boots. “I’m always in the field when luck is on the road. This time, however, my luck is changing. I guarantee it, Clara.” His eyes darkened to slits of charcoal. His expression gave away nothing.
He spun decisively in the direction of the city centre. He had a little too much swagger in his walk, she decided later on. And his eyes had been too bloodshot.
Luck. Gambling. She wanted to call out a warning for him to be careful, although her mouth went dry. For a second time, she worried that he might be wagering on the horses. However, after all their long cozy chats and his sincere reassurances, that troublesome thought was simply unthinkable.
Chapter Fifteen
Two days after Saint Patrick’s Day, Danny returned to Farthing.
Without fanfare, he knocked on the door to Clara’s flat at six o’clock on a rainy March evening.
She opened the downstairs door and her mouth flew open. She’d resigned herself to spending her birthday by herself, half deciding to tackle the thankless job of cleaning her refrigerator and oven.
“You’re looking brilliant, luv.” He favored her with a look of unabashed approval.
He needed a shave, and the rain had given his hair a copper sheen. One of the buttons of his linen sport jacket had been buttoned in the wrong hole, as if he’d been in a hurry. He looked incredibly tall, devastatingly handsome, and completely desirable.
She blinked back tears of delight at the invitation in his compelling blue eyes. Without words, he was telling her how much he’d missed her.
“Danny, you’re … not in London?”
In a laughter-tinged voice, he said, “I don’t think so.” He smiled, that primal, intimate grin that ignited her insides. His feet were braced apart, a bouquet of a dozen red roses clutched in his hand. “Happy Birthday.”
She shoved a hand through her hair. “I expected to spend the night alone. Seamus hasn’t been around much lately and Anna said she was busy studying for some university entrance exams. I even offered to assist Colum with a very active preschool class at the dance studio because he says he can’t control that age group. However, he said the attendance was small and he could handle the children by himself.”
She knew she was babbling and immediately quieted.
Danny smiled. “Is that all?”
“Thank you.” With a prim nod, she accepted the roses from Danny’s outstretched hand and inhaled the delicate aroma.
The rain finally registered, and she pulled him into the foyer.
Caught between delight and confusion, she added, “This morning when you rang, you said your meetings in London ran longer than you’d anticipated. I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.”
He grinned. “I’d planned to charter a private plane to Dublin if I missed the flight from London. And that’s what I did.”
“You didn’t tell me that part.”
“I wanted to see you. Judging by your smile, you wanted to see me too.”
“How many hours have you been traveling?”
“I was up before dawn. Seeing you was more important than a few hours of sleep.”
She bit back a teary chuckle, fearful to show too much emotion, powerless to stop the joyful sniffles because she’d missed him. He’d effectively dissolved the pity party she’d dec
ided to have for herself because no one had wished her a happy birthday.
Danny tenderly wiped the corners of her eyes. “I thought we’d enjoy your birthday celebration in my flat at the coffee shop, nice and quiet, just the two of us. We’ll have dinner there.”
“I should change first.” She gestured to her worn denim jeans and ripped grey sweatshirt. “And I’ll place your beautiful flowers in a vase with water.”
He glanced at his watch. “Will fifteen minutes allow you enough time to get ready?”
“Are you in a rush?”
He averted his gaze, looked at his watch again. “I’m only in a hurry to be with you.” He added a swift, nipping kiss on her lips that made her smile. “I’ll wait here in the foyer.”
She whirled toward the stairs and called over her shoulder, “Give me ten minutes.” She’d change into the ruby-red silk cocktail dress that she’d contemplated wearing to The Duckling and The Quail. And she’d twist her hair into a quick French braid, using her faux-pearl clips to hold it. Silver hoop earrings would complete her outfit. It was her birthday, after all, or at least the day her adoptive parents had designated to celebrate her birthday. And it was Saint Joseph’s Day, a traditional day to wear red.
She didn’t know the date of her actual birthday, a quiet voice in her mind prompted, because she’d come to Ireland as an unruly, untidy, and uncombed shoplifter from a dirt-poor orphanage.
She chased away her negative thoughts. The drop-dead handsome man who’d appeared at her door had remembered her birthday. He’d grinned at her, all male charisma, and her heart had taken a solid bump. She had so much to be thankful for.
She met Danny in the downstairs foyer in ten minutes flat. He was standing exactly where she’d left him and was texting someone. He glanced up, quickly snapped his phone shut, and held out his hand.
“You look exquisite, Clara.” He flashed a gleaming white smile so appealing, her knees felt watery. He reached into the inside pocket of his sport jacket and pulled out a box wrapped in luxurious gold foil.
“Happy Birthday.”
“You already brought me flowers and—”
“And you would deny me the pleasure of buying you two gifts for your birthday?”
She hesitated.
“Open it,” he prodded. “I hope you like it.”
In her shabby foyer, Clara unwrapped the most beautiful diamond necklace she’d ever seen. Eye-catching and brilliant, several heart-shaped diamonds in an exquisite white-gold setting. She fingered the stones. “Surely these can’t be real diamonds.”
He seemed taken aback. “Of course they are. Eighteen carat. I insist that my girl have only the best.”
My girl. Her heart squeezed.
She leaned nearer him. “I could never wear a piece of jewelry this extravagant. Suppose I lost the necklace? Suppose—”
“Suppose I put the necklace on you? It would please me greatly if you’d wear it tonight.” He fastened the necklace around her throat. She glanced at her reflection in the entry-door window and smiled shyly at herself.
His mouth captured hers in a breathless kiss. When the kiss ended, she stayed in his arms. Her hands stroked the beginning of a beard on his chin.
“Do you like the necklace?” he murmured against her lips.
Her eyes welled with tears of joyfulness. “I love diamonds. They’re beautiful, although I’ve never owned any.”
“Be prepared,” he teased. “This is only the beginning of what I plan to give to you.”
When they reached The Ground Café, Danny helped her out of his Mercedes. Because of the rain, she’d donned a khaki raincoat to protect her silk dress. Fortunately, the earlier rain shower had settled to a light drizzle.
“The parking lot is empty,” she said. “Where are all the customers?”
“I closed the coffee shop at six because of your birthday.”
She lifted her brows. “You? Giving up business and losing money?”
He accepted her barb with a glint of amusement, which seemed to lighten his eyes to a cornflower blue. “Only for you, luv.”
As they entered the empty shop, Danny flipped on the lights and gestured to the tea dispensers behind the counter. “Would you fancy a cup of green mint tea?”
“You remembered my favorite tea.”
“I remember everything about you.” He poured the tea. Then he tidied a bagged coffee display and refilled a bin of sugar. Another thirty seconds, and she imagined him grabbing a broom and sweeping the floor.
He seemed as jumpy as a schoolboy, humming the tune to “Oh Danny Boy” as they made their way through the empty shop to the lift.
She grinned over her tea and drew in the nutty, toasty aroma combined with strong, refreshing mint. This exquisite-tasting tea was one of the many reasons why his businesses had flourished; because of his attention to excellence, cleanliness, and detail. His standards were high, reflected in his first-rate products. Customers had shown their appreciation by patronizing his coffee shops in droves.
When they reached the third floor, they passed his boardroom, and Danny waved to a young guy with sparse carrot-red hair and thick glasses hunkered over a laptop. He nodded in return.
“Aiden is my top accountant,” Danny explained. “I depend on him because he never gets rattled. He’s also honest to a fault. He came in tonight to begin working on our yearly audit, and he’s checking the numbers for the Farthing store to ensure that the spreadsheets balance out. It’s imperative that I demonstrate to my potential franchisees that I run a sound business.”
“So, is your business venture in my modest town successful?”
“I haven’t checked the numbers in a few days, though the shop has shown a bigger profit than expected.” His gaze shot to hers. “You’ve never seen the inside of my flat.”
She didn’t reply as a previous conversation with Seamus sprang to mind.
“Sometimes Mr. Brady and Kathleen disappear for hours and go upstairs.”
Could the gorgeous Kathleen have shared hours with Danny in his private flat? How many nights had they spent together? Could that striking woman with the strawberry-blonde hair have experienced his sensual kisses, the delightful pleasure of his hard body pressed close to hers? She was utterly devoted to him and had been with him since, literally, the ground floor of his coffee shop endeavor.
Despite the warmth of the tea steaming from her cup, Clara’s fingers felt chilled. She tried to reassure herself that Danny had chartered a private flight to see her, not Kathleen.
“I’ve arranged for a dinner to be sent up at nine o’clock,” Danny was saying. “Nice and quiet, just the two of us.”
Clara shot him a look of annoyance. Why did he keep repeating himself?
They reached a closed door. “I’ll hold your tea,” he said, gesturing to the door handle. “The flat’s unlocked, although I know that breaking into a place is one of your—”
“I can certainly hold a cup of tea and open a door at the same time,” she snapped, his drollness irritating her. Not to mention his ear-to-ear grin.
She clicked the handle and stepped inside. The room was dark and silent, except for a muffled giggle somewhere in the room.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
The lights came on and a crowd shouted, “Surprise!”
Chapter Sixteen
“Happy thirtieth birthday!”
A cacophony of tin whistles and shakers greeted Clara. She yelped and jumped back. All around the room were people wearing iridescent-green party hats, laughing and playing a variety of musical instruments—tin whistles and hand drums and tambourines. Colum grinned and waved, along with Ian and several of Clara’s friends. Anna stood next to Ian in the middle of the room. Besides holding a party-blower, Anna threw Kelly-green confetti into the air and waved a pastel-green balloon emblazoned with the number 30.
Clara blew out a suspended breath. Wasn’t Anna supposed to be home studying? And Colum should’ve been teaching his preschool dance
class. And wasn’t Ian working on a project in Dublin?
Anna snaked her way to Clara and bussed a kiss. “Wow! That shocked look on your face was priceless.” She blew into her party-blower, then inspected Clara’s necklace. “Umm, are those real diamonds?”
Clara fingered the heart-shaped stones and nodded. “The necklace is a birthday gift from Danny. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Anna gave a triumphant giggle. “I told you there were advantages to dating a billionaire.”
Clara smothered a laugh. “He really is so good to me.”
“And because of him, I’ve avoided you like the plague this past fortnight. I was so nervous that I might spill your surprise birthday after he rang me to work out the details.”
Clara grabbed her sister’s arm. “Details? Who? What? How?”
“Ask him.” Anna’s accusation came out in a rush as she pointed to Danny. “He arranged everything. Do you know you’re called the surprisee?” Anna whirled, all animation, her pale-pink floral dress swaying, her leopard stilettos accenting her shapely legs. “He instructed me to decorate his living room in green because he said green’s your favorite color. Isn’t his place posh? I love the sleek, modern fireplace. Imagine what you could do with a place like this with your decorating ideas.”
Clara surveyed the large living room, the bright-green streamers wound around every
lampshade, the table towering with platters of sandwiches, coffee, and fruit punch. On a side table, an etched silver tray held sliced red apples and fresh strawberries.
Clara caught Danny’s guilty, albeit pleased, expression. Laughingly, he shrugged and held up her green mint tea. She hadn’t realized he’d taken the cup out of her hands.
“You planned all this?”
“I’m the culprit.” He set the tea on a cherry-wood credenza and came to stand beside her. He helped her off with her raincoat, slung his arm around her, and kissed her. “Happy birthday, beautiful,” he whispered. “I’m sorry that I haven’t finished writing my song for you. I really wanted to sing it to you tonight.”
Oh Danny Boy: A Sweet Contemporary Romance Page 14
