She heard the suppressed excitement in his voice and smiled. No wonder he’d been so jittery. He’d acted like a fresh-faced lad, bursting with his secret surprise ever since he’d knocked on her door.
“Will you have your song finished by tomorrow night?” she teased.
He hung her raincoat and his jacket by the door before returning to her side. “No. Unfortunately, I’ve been too tied up with meetings.”
Clara recognized two of Danny’s employees from the coffee shop. They were dressed like waiters and traveled through the crowd offering appetizers to the guests—smoked salmon in new potatoes and cucumber-ham rollups, as well as nonalcoholic emerald-colored cocktails and chocolate mint shakes in glittering crystal glasses.
Danny plucked two cocktails from a tray as one of the waiters passed them and handed one to Clara, then he asked everyone in the room to take a glass for a toast.
A burst of pride surged through her as Danny stood alongside her. Tall and elegant, he projected an impressive, take-charge appearance, an aura of capable command that was an integral part of his character.
He centered his gaze on her. His eyes sparkled, a beam of forget me not blue, mesmerizing and oh so attractive. Raising his glass, he said, “Several weeks ago, I came to Farthing to open a coffee shop. Clara and I hadn’t known each other twenty-four hours before this charming, gorgeous woman accused me of being a bowsie, a good-for-nothing male. I’d told her that I was a musician and loved music. She advised me to stick with making coffee because I sang so off-key that I sounded like the tune the old cow died of.”
The group laughed.
With a smile and shake of his head, Danny continued, “Many of you know that one of my life-long aspirations was to open a chain of successful coffee shops. This aspiration was far easier to accomplish than my second—to live up to the example this fearless woman has shown me.” He lifted his glass higher. “Sometimes I don’t understand her ability to forgive so freely, but to quote our great Irish poet and novelist, Oscar Wilde, ‘Women are made to be loved, not understood.’ Slainte!”
Clara flushed as she met Danny’s tender gaze. When the surge of toasts ended, she nodded at Seamus. He’d stood in a far corner of the room, and when she caught his glance, he tipped a glass in her direction. “Happy birthday,” he mouthed. Then he turned to Ian, and the two men started talking.
What was Seamus drinking? Water? The liquid in his glass looked clear. The question nagged, even though Danny was leading her to the CD player and asking if his music selection was to her liking. Seamus was soon forgotten.
The hours went by in a fairy-tale haze. Clara noted that Danny spent a good deal of time speaking with Colum. She smiled, listening to the two men before she continued mingling with the other guests.
As the evening progressed, Danny’s employees lit a fire in the grate and set apple-green tea lights and votive candles on the credenza. The candles added a soft shimmer to the room and a scent of spring to the air. The overhead light was lowered to a mellow afterglow, and on the CD player, The Dubliners, a popular Irish folk band, sang a ballad about how lonely life was around Athenry fields.
Danny took Clara’s second emerald cocktail out of her hand and set the glass down. “One last dance?”
“Of course.” She smiled. “I am having a brilliant time tonight. Everything was planned perfectly.”
He led her to the middle of the living room. As he took her in his arms, his gaze kindled with the promise of tantalizing kisses. She felt her own response, yearning for his body to stay pressed to hers, the softness of his caress. As they slow-danced, she listened to the heartbreaking lyrics of “The Fields of Athenry,” which told the tale of a man sentenced to forsake Ireland because he’d stolen food for his starving family.
When the poignant ballad came to an end, Danny gathered her nearer and placed his chin on her upswept hair. “Thank you.”
She toyed with the reddish hair at the nape of his neck. “For what? I should be thanking you.”
He tipped up her chin and held her gaze. “For your smile, your love of life, your appreciation. For being you—breathtaking, valiant and incredibly dazzling in that red dress. And for making my time in Farthing so memorable.”
She touched her fingers to his cheek. “It sounds like you’re … you’re leaving?”
“Armed with my franchise agreements and a half-dozen lawyers, my franchise expansion begins in Europe.”
She had difficulty swallowing the ache in her throat. “When?”
His arms tightened around her. Briefly, he closed his eyes. “Tomorrow I leave for London. And then …” He gestured wordlessly, indicating more places and miles than he could name.
There it was. The irrevocability in his tone, the finality of their relationship. It was useless to reply with any note of longing in her voice. A while ago, he’d let her know in no uncertain terms that his departure was not open for discussion.
She lowered her head and studied his broad chest, his forest-green cashmere sweater reminding her of a woodland filled with lonely pines. “How long will you be traveling?”
He shifted. “A few months, which may be extended, depending on any unforeseen red tape along the way. It’ll definitely be a long while.”
She avoided his probing gaze. Her heartbeat sluggish.
She should be happy for him, she told herself, because the business venture he’d worked on for so many years was coming to fruition. Victory was well within his grasp. And she should tell him how happy she was—except that a sharp sadness threatened to carve a hole in her lungs every time she took a breath.
Somehow, she managed a weak smile that she was certain didn’t reach her eyes. In an effort to dispel the melancholy mood settling over them, she changed the subject. “Thanks for giving Seamus extra hours at work this week. And his substantial raise has been brilliant. He bought a new car, because it was going to cost too much money for my car to be fixed. Seamus is putting his hard-earned money to good use.”
Danny cocked an eyebrow. “I haven’t given him a raise, Clara. And your brother called in sick the past seven days, although he reported for work today.”
“You must be mistaken.” She scanned the near-empty room, realizing that Seamus must have slid out of the party without a word. She considered the time, just before eleven o’clock, then zeroed in on her sister. Anna and Ian were sharing bites of salmon hors d’oeuvres while Ian dangled Anna’s leopard stilettos from his beefy fingers.
Clara pulled out of Danny’s arms and headed toward her sister.
“Hi Clara! Great party—which is why we’re still here.” Anna laughed. “You know me, the type of person who comes for the wedding and stays for the christening, just like the old Irish saying. Of course, we were also waiting for the rain to stop because getting soaked while riding a motorcycle is no fun.”
Grinning, Clara hugged her sister. “You and Danny managed to pull off a wonderful shocker birthday celebration that I’ll reminisce about for the rest of my life.”
Anna’s own smile was just as wide. “And I got a job at his coffee shop. I start tomorrow.”
“Congratulations.”
“Yeh, it’ll be grand. Now that my disability insurance had ended, I realized it was time to get a real job with a great boss.” Still grinning, Anna’s honey-colored eyes met Ian’s hazel gaze. “We danced every fast dance and my feet are never going to forgive me. Tonight, I’ll be riding on your motorcycle barefoot, cupcake.”
A moonstruck-looking Ian gawped at Anna. “I love your feet.”
“And I love yours.” Anna and Ian glued their lips together, the irresistibly offbeat couple clearly in love.
Clara folded her hands together and waited. When their kiss ended, she said, “I was so preoccupied with all the guests, I didn’t realize Seamus had snuck out early. He wasn’t with a woman, was he? He said he’d met someone.”
Anna shook her head. “He hasn’t been with any woman since Fiona.”
“And he l
ooked half-cut again after drinking all that vodka tonight,” Ian put in.
“Seamus doesn’t drink vodka. He used to drink whiskey, but not anymore.” Clara touched her neck and asked haltingly, “Again? You’ve seen him out drinking?”
Ian kept his arm firmly around Anna. “Aye. We talked on several occasions at the local pubs this week and got along well.”
“Seamus has an addictive personality, especially when he drinks and gambles, and one drink can easily lead to more.” Clara chewed her bottom lip. “You must be mistaken about the vodka.”
“Vodka is the drink of choice for an alcoholic because it’s clear and can go undetected.”
“Where would Seamus get the vodka? Did Danny—”
“The boss instructed no alcohol at your party,” Ian said. “Your brother must’ve walked in with his own drink.”
“Wait.” Clara paused, letting the conversation lag as she rewound Ian’s earlier remark. “How could you have seen Seamus in the local pubs? You were in Dublin this past fortnight.” She narrowed her eyes. “Weren’t you?”
Ian pulled at the collar of his beat-up leather jacket and shot Anna a helpless glance. “I have a terrible memory,” he began. Ian yanked a roll of antacids from his pocket and dashed one in his mouth as Clara saw Danny approaching in ground-breaking strides. “Sometimes I lose my motorcycle and …”
A knot was forming in Clara’s stomach. “Surely you’d remember where you were all week.” She whirled on Danny, feeling a swell of genuine wrath. “Your bodyguard’s been following me, hasn’t he?”
“Aye.”
“Aye? Aye? You’ve all lied to me!” She whirled to her sister, but Danny stopped her with his hands on her forearms.
“I couldn’t leave you alone in Farthing without my protection, Clara.” He held her firmly. “Not until Jack Connor …” His voice trailed off.
“I told you I could take care of the Jack Connor problem by myself.”
Danny quirked a brow. “You haven’t done a very good job. However—”
She flung off his hands and cut him off with an abrupt shake of her head. “Neither have you.”
“I couldn’t bear the thought of you possibly getting hurt. Do you truly believe that I deserve your animosity for wanting to protect you?”
Slightly mollified, she replied, “I can take care of myself.”
“Let’s talk this out alone, all right? There’s something I need to tell you.” He looked around the room. Except for the four of them, the only people left were the waiters. He gave Ian and Anna a meaningful look, dismissed the waiters, and then gathered some empty plates and headed for the kitchen.
“We were about to leave, anyway,” Anna said, grabbing her stilettos from Ian. As he went to retrieve her leather biker jacket and their motorcycle helmets, she spoke to Clara in a low voice.
“Don’t be angry at Danny. He’s an honorable man. And he loves you, and he declared it to all your guests tonight when he gave his toast.”
“He quoted Oscar Wilde, whom he admires as much as Francis Bacon,” Clara refuted. “I’ve been Danny’s diversion while he’s spent his working hours in Farthing opening another profitable business.”
Anna scoffed. She took Clara’s cold hands in her warm ones and nodded toward the kitchen. “You’re wrong. Go to him.”
Clara yanked her hands from Anna’s grip. “Don’t pass that yoke to me. I have little enough self-respect to salvage after what Jack Connor did to me. And I won’t sacrifice any progress I’ve made these past two years to appease a billionaire businessman just because he’s given me a surprise party.”
Ian reappeared, assisted Anna with her jacket, and handed her a motorcycle helmet. “The rain has let up. We should head off.”
Clara turned away from them, intending to tear down all the decorations and straighten Danny’s flat. Then she’d extinguish the votive candles and fold the linens into a neat pile. And then she would walk home.
Anna’s stern tone checked her in midstep. “You know that progress you refuse to sacrifice? That’s what Danny admires most about you—your indomitable spirit. Go into the kitchen, apologize for your uncalled outburst, and thank him for arranging such a lovely party.” With that, Anna tucked her hand into the crook of Ian’s elbow and exited Danny’s flat.
Clara walked over to the cherry-wood credenza, piled high with an assortment of birthday gifts. So considerate of all the guests, she thought, examining each brightly colored tag. Every person had brought something, except for Seamus. Odd, considering their conversation in front of the coffee shop a few weeks prior.
I’d figured on walking to the city centre and buy you a gift with some of the money I earned. You’ve ruined my birthday surprise for ya by all your harping.
She fingered the exquisite diamond necklace around her neck.
For you, luv, Danny had said eagerly, a tender, expectant gleam in his eyes when she’d unwrapped his gift. I hope you like it.
With her sister’s advice overriding her excuses, Clara silently counted to sixty. Tackling difficult discussions and admitting she was wrong didn’t mean she’d lost control, she told herself.
She took a deep breath and joined Danny in his small, efficient kitchen. She noted his stiff back as he dried forks and spoons on a dishtowel.
Obviously aware of her presence, he turned and said, “Tea?”
Despite his rigid stance, his voice was gentle. He looked tired, a weariness softening his handsome features. He’d been awake since dawn.
“Thanks.” She smoothed her dress. “Look … When I—I realized that Ian had been following me and everyone had been lying, I overreacted. Jack lied many times and I always felt so hurt and defenseless when I found out the truth.” She shook her head. “I was so gullible.”
Danny’s hand tightened on the dishtowel. “You’re doing it again, daring to compare me to that monster.”
“I’m not. Let me finish explaining.”
“Your brother told me that Seamus would beat you when he was drunk.” Danny dropped the dishtowel on the counter. “Do I seem that type of man to you? Someone who would drink, and beat you, and manipulate you?”
“Of course not.” She dug her nails into her palms and let a slow breath in and out of her lungs. “The reason you asked Ian to stay in Farthing was for my benefit.”
Danny swerved to the sink and filled the electric kettle with water. When he curved back around to face her, his jaw was still tense. “I knew you were against the idea. However, your safety was more important to me.”
She twisted her hands together. Her voice cracked. “Then afterward, Jack would apologize over and over until I’d relent and forgive him.”
His cell phone in his pants pocket buzzed several times. He scowled.
She shifted. “Shouldn’t you answer? The call might be important.”
He slipped the phone from his pocket and glanced at it. “It’s Aiden. He’s busy doing whatever accountants do best. He can wait.” Danny sent a quick text and shoved the phone back in his pocket. He gazed at her for a long while and his features softened. “My apologies for the interruption, Clara. Please continue.”
She swallowed. Tears burned her throat. He always placed her needs above his own.
“I’m not used to a man being so kind to me and sometimes I don’t know how to respond. I …” Her voice cracked again.
It was the closest justification she could offer. Danny would understand. He knew how difficult it was for her to apologize after dealing with Jack. She’d been so confused. After a while, she hadn’t known what was wrong, what was right.
Danny didn’t respond. Perhaps he wanted more. More of an apology, more awkward reasons that might only justify his anger. Or perhaps this entire argument gave him the opportunity to sever a break—from her, from her family, from Farthing.
He leaned against the kitchen counter and closed his eyes.
She waited, watching him, remembering his generosity, his thoughtfulness, and her defenses c
rumbled. Sadness and despair welled at the realization that he was leaving in a few hours and, if she didn’t right her wrong, she might never see him again.
“I apologize,” she said. “My reaction to your protection was unwarranted.”
She lowered her guard because she trusted him and wanted to be close to him, leaving no emotional barriers between them. And if apologizing to a considerate and kindhearted man made her vulnerable, so be it, because it was time to break loose from the damaging, traumatic chains that Jack had shackled around her.
Danny opened his eyes. Understanding, affection, and unmistakable desire smoldered in his gaze. “I accept your apology. And I was wrong, too, for being dishonest. I should’ve risked your anger and told you that Ian would be staying in Farthing to ensure your safety.”
She smiled at him. “So you’re afraid of my anger?”
“You put the heart crossway in me, especially when your eyes shoot daggers.” With a chuckle, he brought her into his arms. His mouth came down ravenously on hers. She parted her lips to receive him and looped her arms around his neck, forming her body to his, softening against his solid form. When the kiss ended, he kept his arms around her.
Clara didn’t move, protected in his embrace, feeling safe and secure and cherished.
He pressed his lips to her hair. “Your apology means so much to me.”
She brushed a single tear from the corner of her eye. “I was afraid I’d open an emotional floodgate that I’d be powerless to stop, that I’d feel defenseless and out of control.”
He cradled her in his arms. “And now?”
“I was wrong about that too.”
And with that admission, she felt empowered, not defenseless.
He rested his cheek against her head and sighed. “It’s late, and I should start preparing for my departure tomorrow morning. However, I’d like to continue our relationship long-distance.” He lifted her chin and stared at her. “I hope you feel the same way.”
She nodded.
“While I’ll be traveling a great deal, I should have reasonable Internet connection, and we can talk by phone every evening. You know I’m a planner.”
Oh Danny Boy: A Sweet Contemporary Romance Page 15
