He held her hand and pulled her toward the bathroom. He started the water, knowing it would take a minute to heat up. He took that time to slowly remove her remaining clothes. She stood naked, uninhibited under his gaze. Her skin pinked up with arousal as he slid his jeans down.
Fiona reached for his hard-on, but he maneuvered her to the bathtub. “Shower’s ready.”
He held her hand as she stepped into the tub. Although the bathroom fixtures were new since his remodel, he’d wished he’d thought ahead and put in a double showerhead. He stepped back and let her have the spray while he lathered up.
She ducked her head under the water and he waited for her hair to come to life, but it still snaked down her back in a smooth river. As if reading his mind, she said, “The curls pop when it starts to dry.”
While she busied herself with shampooing her hair, he took the opportunity to rub his soapy hands down her front, paying special attention to her breasts.
“You know, I’m not really dirty. I took a shower before going out tonight. I just offered to wash my hair because you looked so disappointed about the curls.”
“I was disappointed. I like the curls. Running soapy hands all over your naked body is a bonus.”
She rinsed the shampoo from her head and then faced the spray to get the soap off. She gave him a quick kiss and stepped out of the shower. “I’ll be waiting in the bedroom.”
Connor watched her naked ass sway as she left the room with his towel on her head. He proceeded to take the fastest shower he’d had in years. Maybe even faster than the first time he’d had to share a shower with a roomful of men.
He flicked off the water and pulled a towel from the cabinet behind the door. Without Fiona in the room, his dick had softened a little, at least enough to be able to wrap the towel around his waist. He looked in the mirror and realized he’d forgotten to shave again.
In the bedroom, he’d hoped to find a naked Fiona lying sprawled across his mattress. Instead, she stood in front of his bookcase, petting Max’s head, while wearing the T-shirt he’d dropped on the floor. She was right; a woman wearing a man’s shirt was sexy. Especially when the woman in his shirt was Fiona.
Noticing him in the doorway, she said, “You really do like to read. You’re into politics, huh?”
She sounded like this was an unpleasant prospect. It opened the door to conversation to see how she’d react. “No more than anything else. You have to admit Chicago has an interesting political history.”
She shrugged, but said nothing, not even a mention of her powerful father. Connor could almost see her fortifying a wall around the subject. He crossed the room, dropping his towel along the way. Her hair was still wet, but the curls were springing back, just as she said they would.
He threaded his fingers into the wet curls and brought her face to his and kissed her. He thrust his tongue in her mouth and pressed her body against him. When he ended the kiss and pulled away, her eyes were clouded with desire.
He understood about not wanting to discuss some things. Neither of them wanted to talk. They had time. He’d figure out how to draw her out and open up. He reached under the shirt and found nothing but smooth skin. With his hands on her bare ass, she panted and moaned. He guided them back to the bed.
Fiona was a loud lover and he liked that she held nothing back. She knew what she wanted in bed and wasn’t afraid to ask for it. As she lay naked and writhing beneath him, he couldn’t imagine her lying there with the slick hair and fancy dress. He liked the wild Fiona.
When their shuddering finished, he rolled off her and they gasped side by side.
“I’m glad you came by tonight.” It sounded lame, but it was true.
“So am I.” She sat and her curls stuck up everywhere. “Don’t stare. I know my hair’s crazy.” She smoothed a hand down the locks as if it would have an impact.
He grabbed a handful of curls and pulled her down to him. “I like the crazy.”
She lowered her head and kissed him again. “That’s good because the crazy always comes back.”
Somehow he thought she spoke about more than just her curls.
Before he recovered from her kiss, she scooted off the bed and gathered her clothes. He propped himself on his elbow. “You don’t have to go. I’m not so territorial that I can’t share my bed for the night.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t sleep much at night. It’s my best time to work.”
The sound of vibrations had them both looking for phones. Connor doubted it was his; the only calls he received were work-related during the day. Fiona fished her phone from her tiny purse and frowned.
“Bad news?”
She shrugged and the relaxed look on her face disappeared. She shimmied into her panties without a word. The phone went off again. Her pace increased, like she was in a sudden hurry to leave.
Fiona zipped the dress, slid into her shoes, and shoved her phone back in her purse.
He had no idea what to say to make her stay. This might be his only chance to learn about her family. “Fiona.”
She looked up at him, a tense expression replacing the relaxed one she’d had moments ago. Whoever called caused the change in her and he didn’t like it. “When can I see you again?”
She bit her lip before answering. “I’m not sure.”
“How about dinner tomorrow?”
Shifting further into the shadows of his room, she said, “I don’t think so. I’ve got some stuff to do.”
Was she seriously brushing him off? He replayed their brief evening together and decided she’d enjoyed herself every bit as much as he had. Why wouldn’t she want to continue?
“Then you pick the day.”
She plopped on the corner of the bed furthest from him. “Look, I like you, Connor, but—”
Whoa. She was not going there. No fucking way was a Cavanagh going to reject him. “Stop. I get it. Why did you come here tonight?”
Her voice whispered in the dark. “You invited me and I wanted to see you.”
“Then why blow me off?” He had a hard time keeping his cool. If she’d been any other woman, he would’ve simply thanked her for the fuck, but he needed more from Fiona and his anger slipped through.
“It’s complicated.”
Complicated? “Are you married?” He’d done plenty of research and nothing showed her having a husband. In his eagerness to find out about her position in the family, it was possible he’d missed something.
She sighed heavily. “No, I’m not married. It’s my family.”
Yes. He sat up to get closer. “What about them?”
She shook her head, her messy hair slipping forward and covering her face. “Nothing. I can’t talk about it. I just…I have to go.” Standing, she turned to him. “Thank you for tonight.”
“So that’s it?”
“It’s all it can be.”
She wanted to keep him as a secret. The tightness in his chest loosened. This would work to his advantage. As long as her family didn’t know about him, he could continue the charade until he learned what he needed.
He followed her to the door. “Okay,” he said as she gripped the doorknob.
Without turning, she asked, “Okay, what?”
Coming up behind her, he settled a hand on her shoulder, brushing her curls aside to feel the soft skin under his fingers. “If this is all we can have, I’ll take it.”
She spun quickly and the moonlight from the window glinted in her eyes. A slight curve of her lips told him it had been the right approach.
He lowered his mouth and brushed against her. “Call me,” he whispered against her lips.
Then she slipped out the door and down the stairs without another word. No promise to call, nothing. He had no idea if he’d put something in motion, but he hoped so.
Chapter 3
For the next few days, Fiona had stared at Connor’s texts. How about dinner? Dinner’s not complicated.
How little he knew of her life. She sho
t him down every time because she didn’t want him to find out who her parents were. The thing she liked most about him was that he knew the real her without any preconceived notions.
She wandered through the banquet hall debating whether she should go see Connor, when she saw her father without Mom.
She headed in his direction and stood beside him. He was deep in conversation with a younger man, one Fiona didn’t recognize. Not that she knew all of her father’s campaign donors.
“Michael, this is my lovely daughter, Fiona. Fiona, this is Michael Cartwright.”
The man shook Fiona’s hand and smiled. “And what do you do for a living, Fiona? I haven’t heard your name bounced around in politics.”
“I’m an artist.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Interesting.”
“And what about you Mr. Cartwright?”
“Michael, please. As I was telling your father, my construction company is looking to expand. We hope to get the bid for the expansion on the riverfront. Maybe you could put in a good word for me.”
Her father chuckled a politician’s laugh.
“Sorry, Mr.—Michael, but I stay as far away from policy and politics as I can.” She flashed a friendly smile, the one her mother liked so much.
The men relaunched their conversation about zoning and possibilities for improvements, but Fiona tuned them out. Although it was supposed to be a friendly conversation over drinks, Fiona knew it to be what it was: a power gauge. Each man was feeling the other out to see who would be top dog. Fiona almost rolled her eyes. Mr. Cartwright should’ve realized her dad would always be on top.
She quietly excused herself and walked outside for some fresh air and the chance to maybe call Connor.
The air was colder than she expected and her skin pimpled and as she sucked in a deep lungful.
“Still trying to escape?”
The voice startled her and Fiona looked to her left. The man the voice belonged to startled her even more. “Patrick, what are you doing here? This isn’t an open event.”
“I know. I was in the neighborhood.”
She crossed her arms and ran her hands over her chilly flesh.
“Actually, I came to see you. I thought maybe we could have coffee or dinner sometime.” He’d edged closer, close enough that Fiona knew he hadn’t been standing out there long. She felt the heat of his body.
“First off, if you wanted to contact me, you know my number. Second, why the heck would you want to meet?” Patrick was up to something, but she couldn’t figure out what.
He reached out and played with the ends of her hair. “I always did like your hair like this. I wanted to talk and see if you might be interested in getting back together. Give us another shot.”
A bark of laughter shot from her. “What? Why would I want to do that?”
He stiffened for a moment. “I’m going places, Fiona. I’ll never settle for alderman the way your dad has. I have my sights set on bigger things. We could go far in this city. The results of this election won’t even matter. Choose your side wisely.”
She placed a hand on his chest to make sure he didn’t come closer. “Just as I told you when we were a couple, I have no desire to be part of Chicago politics. I’m not my mother. As far as stepping on my father to reach your goals? Good luck with that.”
As she turned to go back into the banquet hall, a movement nearby caught her attention. She turned fully and looked near the shrubbery alongside the building. Sure enough, a guy climbed out from behind the bushes. And he had a camera.
Fuck!
Her jaw clamped tight. She knew better than to approach the idiot. At least now she knew what Patrick was up to. Why he wanted to get her photo, she had no idea, but it wouldn’t be for anything good. Inside the hall, she looked for her mother. When she found her, Fiona pulled her from the crowd, which of course irritated Sheila.
“Fiona, couldn’t this wait? I have people to talk to.” Her mother spoke with a steady smile on her lips.
“I wanted to let you know that I went out for some fresh air and ran into Patrick.”
Mom’s façade dropped. “What? When?”
“A few minutes ago.”
“What is he doing here?”
“I wondered the same thing. He said he wanted to talk to me about getting back together, but when I turned him down, I noticed a guy in the bushes taking my picture.”
Her mother’s face turned to stone and Fiona’s stomach fell.
“Do you know who?”
Fiona shook her head.
“Was the photo incriminating or embarrassing in any way?”
“Of course not. What do you think I would be doing outside with Patrick?”
“With you, I’m never quite sure.” Sheila threw her shoulders back and renewed her smile. “I’ll let your father’s media people know. In the meantime, please avoid these kinds of things. They never do turn out well for you.” She patted Fiona’s arm.
Fiona’s jaw dropped as her mother walked away. How could her mother have possibly turned this back on her? She’d done nothing but her duty as a daughter all night. She didn’t invite Patrick to show up and she’d done nothing but try to get rid of him.
She couldn’t win. Fiona made her way back through the throngs of people eager to speak with her father and she kept walking until she reached her car.
She drove to the one place she’d wanted to be all night: Connor’s house.
Fiona stared at Connor’s house. She had no idea why she was there. She should’ve called, especially after dodging his invitations for a date.
He’d left an open invitation. But to just show up at his house? Her eyes popped wide with a reason. She still had his sweatshirt. She could return it and gauge his reaction to her presence.
She grabbed the sweatshirt and left the car. In front of his door, she took a deep breath and knocked. Max barked, but no other sounds came from inside. Another bark, then she heard Max run through the house. Maybe Connor was out. She looked down the block at Dermott’s bar.
The door swung open and she was surprised to see Connor fully dressed, work boots and all.
“Fiona?”
“Hi.” She held out the sweatshirt. “I wanted to return this.”
He didn’t reach for the shirt. His eyebrows rose expectantly.
Okay, so not responsive to seeing her. She shrugged and then turned, but he grabbed the sweatshirt she still held.
“You look like you had a bad night.” His voice was quiet and his face softened. “Come in.”
“Thank you,” she answered and walked into the house. Again, she glanced around the empty space unsure of exactly what she’d expected by coming here. Max sat at her feet, so she played with his ears.
“Max, get off her fancy shoes.”
“He’s fine.”
Connor walked toward the back of the house. Over his shoulder, he called, “I have a pot of coffee on in the kitchen.”
She followed, and he poured her a cup.
“Milk or sugar?”
“Both please.”
She sat at his kitchen table and he dropped a container of sugar and a half-gallon of milk in front of her. She stirred them in silently. He stared at her the entire time, but said nothing.
Her hands cupped the hot coffee and she sipped.
“You might sleep better at night if you weren’t hopped up on caffeine and sugar.”
Fiona looked at him. He had the half-smile going on and she relaxed.
“Why are you really here, Fiona?”
She sipped the hot liquid to buy her time. Why was she here? It wasn’t just the sex, although it had been pretty freaking hot between them. How could she tell him she needed a break from her family? She wanted to hide out for a little while in a place where her mother couldn’t find her.
He drank his coffee silently and she would’ve given anything to see inside his head. She probably shouldn’t have come here. She couldn’t explain it, but she liked being with Connor. “
I wanted to see you again.”
“Wanted to see me or screw me?”
“Both?” she answered with a smile.
Still nothing. She definitely called it when she saw him as silent and brooding. Setting her cup back on the table, she said, “I guess this was a mistake. When you said you were okay with what I could give, I thought you meant it.”
“You haven’t called. I thought we were done.”
“Me too. I don’t like games. But something happened earlier tonight and all I could think about was you.”
“What happened?”
She shook her head. Words bubbled at the back of her throat, seeking escape, but she swallowed them.
He sighed and pushed off the counter he’d been leaning on. “As much as I’d enjoy taking you to bed, it’s not an option for me right now. I’m headed back downstairs to work. I’m behind on this project. You can join me if you want, but it’s dusty down there.”
Connor kept trying to spend time with her out of bed, so uncharacteristic for most guys. She didn’t think she’d ever met a man who wouldn’t take her up on her sex-only offer.
He looked at her over his shoulder. “You won’t let me take you on a date, you can at least talk to me while I work.”
She hesitated and when a line of frustration creased his forehead, she stood. “I don’t mind talking to you, but I won’t talk about my family.”
He stepped closer, so close that heat bounced off his body and onto hers. “Why not? Are you in the mob? A spy?”
She chuckled. “No to both. All you need to know is that sometimes I need a break from them. Talking about them doesn’t give me a break.”
“Hard to get to know someone when she blocks out a hefty piece of her life.” His words were quiet, but she heard the irritation in them.
Standing on tiptoe, she planted a kiss on his lips, inviting him for more. Her tongue probed and he gripped her hips before pulling away.
“I have work to do.” He turned back toward the door behind him.
She rolled her eyes, but followed him. He really wasn’t going to have sex with her.
He looked at Max and said, “Sit.” To her, he said, “I don’t let Max downstairs. He’s too destructive.”
Between Love and Loyalty Page 4
