“Um, sort of.” Mia closed her eyes at the memory of him pinning her down and thrusting her into next week.
“I’m getting goose bumps,” Freya said. “I can’t imagine him all grrr.”
“He was very grrr,” Mia had to admit. “Surprisingly grrr.”
“Swear out loud?” Grace prompted. Mia had once teased her that the way to judge a good session was whether you swore out loud or not.
Mia’s lips curved. “Maybe.” She could help but add, “Three times.”
The two girls burst out laughing and Freya cheered. “Yay, Mia!”
“I know.” She gave a long, heavy sigh and capitulated. “Okay, he was fantastic. Beyond belief.”
“Ooh. Who’d have thought it of the inelegant Irishman?” Grace said.
“He’s not inelegant. Well, not in bed anyway. He was next morning.” Mia giggled.
“What happened?”
“We went to settle the bill the next day and found out that our neighbour had complained about the banging of the headboard.”
The two girls joined her in a fit of giggles. “What did he do?” Freya asked.
“He blushed beautifully. A very pretty shade of fuchsia, most becoming. He protested that he’d just been doing energetic sit-ups, but I could see the owner wasn’t convinced. She smirked, and he went all stuttery and walked into the doorpost. It was quite endearing.”
Grace sighed. “Oh sweetie, I’m so pleased for you. The sex, I mean, not the walking-into-the-wall part.”
“Yeah.” Sadness settled over Mia. “It’s a shame it can’t go any further.”
They both went quiet for a moment.
“Are you sure about that?” Freya said eventually. “I seem to recall saying exactly the same thing.”
“Me too,” Grace added.
“Yeah, I know, but this is different. He lives in Ireland.”
“He can move,” Freya suggested. “Or you can move. It’s not the end of the world. Well, I know being in New Zealand feels like being at the end of the world sometimes, but you know what I mean.”
Mia ran her hand through her hair in frustration. “I don’t want to move to Ireland. I like it here. I have a job.”
“Then maybe he’ll consider moving here,” Grace said.
“But his family’s there—”
“Mia,” Grace said gently, “all we’re saying is that there’s always a way. We’ve proved—twice—that relationships we never thought would work have had a happy ending. Who’d have thought I’d marry a medium, for Christ’s sake? Me?! Miss Sceptic?”
“And I was determined not to get involved with anyone,” Freya said.
“I know,” Mia insisted. “But it’s just sex…” Her voice trailed off at their gales of laughter, and she had vague recollections of them both saying the same thing over and over again before they finally caved and admitted it was more.
“I’m going now,” she said huffily.
“Bring him to the party on Wednesday,” Freya said. She and Nate were flying in at two in the afternoon, and Grace and Ash were throwing a party in the evening to welcome them back.
“I can’t,” Mia said.
“Of course you can, I’m sure he’ll love to be invited and—”
“Not I won’t, I can’t. I don’t have his phone number and the school’s on a two-week break now, remember?”
“So find out where he lives and go around there and ask him,” Freya insisted.
“Desperate, much?”
“It shows you care,” Freya insisted.
“It shows I’m gagging for it.”
Grace laughed. “Well, aren’t you?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Don’t you want to have sex with him again?”
Mia leaned forward and rested her forehead on the table. “Oh dear God, yes.”
They both laughed. “Okay, got to go now,” Freya said. “Nate’s tapping his watch.”
“Ash says Nate’s not to bother coming back—he has everything under control,” Grace said.
There was the sound of someone bellowing in the background. “Oh, wait a minute,” she corrected. “What he actually said was ‘For God’s sake, I’m falling apart here and I’ll give you a huge raise if you come back.’” Nate was Ash’s manager, and Mia knew Ash had missed him terribly while he’d been away. The temp Ash had brought in had been hopeless—double booked Ash’s shows, lost paperwork and generally made his life a misery.
“He’ll be back,” Freya said with a laugh. “We can’t wait. See you all Wednesday.”
“Love you,” the two girls called, and Freya echoed it back before hanging up.
Mia sighed. “I’m glad they’re coming back. I’ve missed them.”
“God, me too—it’s been weird not having Freya around. And Ash has been unbearable without Nate. It’ll be good to be the six of us.” Grace waited a beat. “See what I did there?”
“I did, and it’s not six of us, it’s five and a half. A quarter. An nth. We’re barely even a fraction.”
“Ask him to come to the party,” Grace said.
Mia sighed. “I shouldn’t.”
“Don’t start. Carpe diem.”
“Seize the fish?”
“Ha ha. Go and tell him you’ve found the Lost Ark of the Covenant or something else historically exciting. Make it impossible for him to say no.”
Privately, Mia suspected that she’d only have to turn up on his doorstep and he’d take off all his clothes obediently, but she didn’t say so or Grace would gloat. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think too much. Facta non verba.”
“What is this, Latin week?”
“Ash bought me a book of phrases.”
“For that trip you’ve planned to third-century Rome?”
“Well, aren’t we on form today? No, smart-arse. I’m bored sitting on my backside all day. I told him I wanted to learn Latin, so he bought me a book.”
“That poor baby of yours doesn’t know what it’s in for. Well, anyway, mind-um your business-um. Go and paint the nursery or something.”
“Already done.” Grace’s voice rang with happiness.
Mia hesitated, not wanting to ruin the mood but needing to know. “Any news from Annie Wilkes?”
“Nope.” Grace continued to sound cheerful. “Nothing. Which is good, because Ash was almost ready to get his voodoo doll out.”
“Is that prison slang?”
Ash snorted in the background. “I’m going now,” Grace said wryly. “Love you.” She hung up.
Mia disconnected, stood and stretched. She was glad Freya was back. Although her flatmate had already moved out and into Nate’s apartment, they’d grown quite close over the past couple of years, and she missed her.
She was thrilled that both Grace and Freya had found partners who loved them, but she had to admit to feeling slightly disgruntled. She was the oldest, after all. Part of her wished she could find a man who got on with the rest of her friends so they could continue to hang out together. Ross hadn’t liked Ash and had thought he was a weirdo, and he’d had nothing in common with Nate at all. They’d gone out once shortly before she broke up with him, but Ross had hardly spoken all evening and she’d felt uncomfortable, knowing when they left the others he’d go off on a tirade of how much he disliked being in their company.
Would Colm get on with them? Certainly he seemed to like Grace. Would he have anything in common with Ash and Nate? What had he said when Grace mentioned Nate’s healing abilities in the staff room? I believe in that sort of thing. That was promising, at least.
She got up and walked into the dining room, sat in the armchair and studied the mobile phone on the table. She’d lied to Grace. She did have his phone number. The secretary who’d organised the trip to Auckland had got them to swap numbers before they left.
But could she call him? Admit she missed him and wanted to see him again?
She picked up the phone and stared at it. He’d said to h
er, Poor Mia… All you want is to be screwed senseless and to have a bit of fun, and she’d agreed. They’d both known it was a one-off. She knew he liked her. But she’d felt that zing when he looked at her that told her he knew as well as she did that it could be more than that.
That road was a dangerous one, though, when he was due to leave. Did she really want to set off down it?
Chapter Fourteen
Colm decided he’d have to sit down or he was going to wear a hole in the carpet. He’d been pacing for the last fifteen minutes, trying to pluck up the courage to call Mia.
“Either do it or don’t do it,” he told himself with exasperation. “This is ridiculous.”
He sat down and put his head in his hands. He shouldn’t call her. She’d only wanted a one-night stand—she’d made that pretty clear. She knew he was going back to Ireland at the end of the year and nothing could develop between them. It would be crazy to call her and start something that would only end in heartache for them both. He’d managed to avoid Cupid and his little arrows so far, and he had no intention of succumbing to the sneaky bastard two months before he had to move thirteen thousand miles away.
But he missed her. And he wanted to see her again.
Screw it.
He picked up the phone and dialled her number.
She answered immediately, after the first ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, Farrow.” He tried to be jovial while trying to ignore the elated thumping of his heart. “It’s your favourite Irishman here. How’re you doing?”
“Oh, yes, hi, Colm, um, I’m fine. Tickety boo. A hundred percent. Ace, triff, brill. Couldn’t be better. How are you?”
He smiled, loving the sound of her voice all throaty and husky. “I’m fine. You okay?” Her breathlessness reminded him of how she’d sounded when she climaxed beneath him. “Were you…up to something?” he asked suspiciously, his gaze going out of focus at the thought of Mia pleasuring herself.
“Yes. No! Not what you’re thinking. Goodness.” She sounded amused rather than embarrassed. He adored her for that. “I was holding the phone and it made me jump. I was just about to ring…”
He raised his eyebrows. “Who?”
“Okay, it was you, don’t get all smug.”
He grinned. “I’m glad. I thought you’d have forgotten my name by now.”
“Sorry, who is this?”
“Very amusing. You like to wound me, don’t you?”
“I’d like to discipline you, yes.” Her voice went even huskier.
“Now, now,” he scolded. “Two seconds into the conversation and you’ve already given me a hard-on. That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”
“Not my fault if you’ve got sex on the brain.”
“I’m a man. Of course I’ve got sex on the brain. Plus, I’m talking to you. Why wouldn’t I be thinking about sex?”
She laughed and something squeaked as if she’d lain down and made herself comfortable. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, honey. That’s why I called you.” He sat back on the sofa with a sigh, loving their relaxed conversation and the way it seemed as if he’d known her forever.
“Colm the sexy Celt,” she said, somewhat dreamily. “Did you know, by the way, that you insert an extra syllable into your name?”
“What do you mean?”
“You say ‘Col-um’. Not ‘Colm’.”
“Oh yes, non-Irish people always think I’m saying ‘Callum’.”
“Actually I think it sounds more like ‘Gollum’.”
“Do you, my precious?”
She giggled. “You say fil-um too, not ‘film’.”
“I’m flattered to think you’ve noticed.” He lay back and looked up at the ceiling. “You say ‘pin’ instead of ‘pen.’ Like, ‘Can you pass me that pin,’ and then you point to a Biro.”
“Do not.”
“Yes, you do. And ‘hid’ instead of ‘head’. As in ‘you give good hid’.”
“Colm!”
“And ‘sex’ instead of ‘six’. You’re a very confusing girl to be around.”
“‘Girl,’” she said, “I like that. I like being called a girl now I’m an old lady.”
“Old?”
“Ancient. Practically retired. I need to learn how to blue-rinse my hair and make my lipstick run into little cracks around my lips.”
He laughed, certain the beautiful Mia would grow old gracefully and only improve with age. “What are you up to this week?”
“My friends Freya and Nate arrive back on Wednesday. I think you met Freya briefly.”
“Pretty girl, blonde, a nurse?”
“That’s the one. You think she’s pretty?”
He smiled. “Not as pretty as you, sweetheart. And nowhere near bossy enough for me.”
“True,” she agreed cheerfully. “You obviously need someone extra-bossy to keep you line.”
“Oh I do.” He thought of the way she’d complained as he’d made her climb on top of him, and laughed.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she scolded. “Stop it.”
“Make me.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Mia, you’re not helping the erection situation by saying things like that.”
“Why?” she asked innocently. “What’s the problem?”
“The problem is that now I’m thinking about you trying to be all dominatrix, and then I’m imagining putting you over my knee and spanking you for it.”
“Oh my goodness.”
“What?” Now it was his turn to act innocent.
“You’d spank me?”
“If you were naughty,” he said, grinning.
“Oh…”
“Don’t sigh like that.”
“I can’t help it. You’re making my panties grow damp.”
He closed his eyes. “Mia…for fuck’s sake.”
She chuckled softly. “You look like such a nice boy. And you’re really not.”
“You bring out the worst in me.”
“Sorry.”
“It wasn’t a complaint.” He smiled.
She sighed. “Are you busy?”
“Nope.”
“Talk a bit longer?”
“Sure.” His smile broadened. She wanted to talk to him. How sweet.
“What are you up to this week?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m doing a bit of research over the next few days.”
“Historical stuff?”
“Kind of.” He hesitated for a moment. Was he really thinking of telling her everything? He hadn’t opened up to anyone for a long time. But then he hadn’t had the kind of connection he had with Mia with anyone else.
He filed that away to think about later. “I’m looking for my father.”
“Oh. You left him somewhere?”
He grinned. “My biological father. I’m adopted.”
“Oh? I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. He’s a Kiwi. My birth mother, Mary, was Irish. Not surprisingly really, considering the name.”
“Was?”
“She died giving birth to me. A ruptured…er…something, can’t remember. Something vital, obviously. My father had left by then—I don’t think he knew she was pregnant. But my adopted mum is her sister, and she was there when I was born.”
“Jeez, Colm, I never knew. You should have said.”
“It’s not the sort of thing you talk about in the staff room.”
“No. I suppose not.” She paused for a moment. “You’re telling me now, though? What’s changed?”
“You mean apart from all the sex and orgasms?”
She laughed. “I guess it has altered our relationship a little.”
“A bit. I like you, Mia,” he confided. “And I don’t have anyone else to talk to about this.”
“You don’t talk to…what was her name?”
“Juliet?”
“Yeah.”
“Nah. We haven’t kept in touch. And no, I
didn’t tell her while we were dating.”
“Oh.” She went quiet for a moment.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable by confiding. I’ll shut up if you like.”
“No! God, no. I want to know more. So when Mary died, her sister adopted you?”
“Yes. Kathleen and Niall—they brought me up with their own kids.”
“Did they know your father?”
“No, they never met him—the affair was brief and she kept it secret. Apparently just before she died, she told them he was an artist from ‘Down Under’ and his name was Robert. That’s it.”
“Okay.” She thought about it. “How do you know it was New Zealand and not Australia?”
“That’s…another story.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll tell you about it some other time. But anyway, I thought I’d come here and see if I could track him down.”
“Any luck?”
He sighed. “No, not yet. I’m pretty sure he’s in Wellington, but none of the agencies have turned up any evidence he ever existed. Anyway, I’ve got another couple of places to try tomorrow. I’ll see if they come up with anything.”
“Can I help?”
“Aw, sweetheart…”
“I mean it. There must be something I can do?”
“Maybe. I’ll think about it.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about her helping him out. His quest to find his father was so personal—did he want Mia dragged into it? Plus he was going to have to explain to her why he was so certain his father was a Kiwi and not an Aussie, and he never told anyone about his gift.
“Col-um…”
He smiled. “Yes…”
She sighed. “You want to come to the party with me on Wednesday?”
Pleasure flooded him. “I’d love to.”
“I hope it won’t be too boring for you.”
“Can we have sex afterward?”
She laughed then. “Maybe.”
“In that case I look forward to it.”
“Pick me up at four?”
“I will. I’ll see you then, honey.”
“Yeah, see ya, Col-um.”
Smiling, he hung up and lay there for a moment, looking at the ceiling. He was glad he’d rung. He’d begun to feel a bit depressed at the thought of two weeks off without seeing her. He hadn’t realised how much he enjoyed just bumping into her during the day, seeing her at break and having morning coffee together. She brightened his day.
Talking Sense: Sensual Healing, Book 3 Page 9
