For lunch Aidan found them a little eating place that served seafood.
As always Ali charmed the staff, her incredible eyes focused, the waitress enchanted as Ali asked for specifics about the food. Those laughing eyes glanced at Aidan.
Hearing she was American, half a dozen folk offered suggestions on the specialties, what she should try. She charmed them, too, asking questions, her eyes intent as they answered. Already her accent was nearly indistinguishable from theirs, only certain words, or the use of them, different. But her innate curiosity, interest, remained unflagging.
Throwing back her head, Ali laughed at some question and Aidan smiled, a sharp pang going through him. Bright Ali.
The next day was Monday…and Aidan had to return to work. Their idyll was almost over. It couldn’t have lasted forever and she’d never fit into his busy life with her simple skirts and bright laughter. He couldn’t give her what most women wanted, a home, a family.
Devon hadn’t been the only one to complain he was too busy, that she never saw him.
How was he going to tell her? Yet it had to be done. But not now, not tonight…
For tonight he was just going to hang on to her, to gain another few hours of happiness for both of them. He knew it was selfish, but the thought of never seeing her again broke his heart, it just tore him up.
Love at first sight was a fairy tale…
Chapter Eleven
His new phone rang. Blearily Aidan picked it up and glanced at the display. Not Brian this time but Maggie, his very efficient executive assistant. She was in early, it was scarce 7:00 AM.
“I have to answer this,” Aidan said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Seeing the expression on his face, Ali’s heart sank, some part of her sensing a change in the air, but she pretended she didn’t as she smiled and nodded.
The day before they’d toured the Ring of Kerry and she was grateful she hadn’t brought a camera or they’d have been stopping at every turn of the road for her to take pictures. It had been an exhilarating ride as well, with few guardrails over incredible cliffs, roads that dropped down to picturesque Irish villages, or island scenes, the ocean strewn with rocks. It had been at turns breathtaking for either the views or the swooping hairpin turns.
Suddenly, she was cold.
That was yesterday, Sunday. Today was Monday.
Perhaps she should have realized that something had changed the night before. He’d made love to her with a tenderness she’d never seen in him before. He’d always been all passion and fire.
“What time?” Aidan asked with a sigh, his heart sinking as he glanced at his watch. If there was a train, he’d just make it, with barely enough time to shower and change. There would be no time to make a proper goodbye to Ali but perhaps that was best. “All right, set it up, I’m on my way.”
The look in Ali’s eyes caught at him. He took her hand, raised it to her lips.
It was better this way, abruptly, with no anticipation. As quick and as painless as possible. He’d been away from the office too long as it stood…
“It’s time, Ali, I have to go,” he said, gently, and was surprised himself by how much it hurt.
He’d enjoyed her company more than he’d expected. She‘d been incredible, warm, joyous…
The suddenness of it caught Ali off guard. For a moment, she could only stare at him in disbelief. Was he really saying what she thought?
“Aidan,” she said, her breath going short as the shock of it went through her.
“You had to know it couldn’t last forever, that you’re going home,” he said.
Then Aidan saw the pain wash through those molten gold eyes and realized she had indeed entertained the thought. As he had, if only in the back of his mind.
“You’re saying goodbye,” Ali said, in disbelief, “but I thought…”
She’d thought he cared.
It didn’t seem real. She just looked into his blue eyes, incredulous. Her heart ached, the sting of rejection sharp.
Aidan looked at her, his eyes kind. “Ali, you’re a sweet girl and we’ve had some fun but I never intended it to go on. You’ve a home in America. You don’t know anything about me. You’d never fit into my life…”
The shock of his words was nearly shattering, nearly an echo of Dan’s that last time they’d spoken.
Stunned, Ali looked at him. “How do you know that…?”
It seemed as if she couldn’t catch her breath…
“Trust me,” he said, packing swiftly, “I do.”
With a half laugh, harsh to conceal his own pain, because there was so much about Ali that he did like, did take pleasure in, and not just her passion but her life and her joy. Whatever Caireann thought, though, he needed a woman in his life with some sophistication. He might want to come home to someone like Ali but he needed someone who could entertain international business partners, attend corporate events.
“So,” she said, bewildered, hurt, “this was just some kind of fling for you?”
It sounded cheap that way and it had never been cheap.
“No, it was never that to me,” Aidan said, “but if it helps to think of it that way, then do. An Irish fling. I can’t give you what you want, Ali, what you need.”
Nobody was supposed to have gotten hurt, he thought. Not her, not sweet Ali and not him.
So why did it hurt so much?
Ali closed her eyes.
Her own laugh was a little bitter, but then she took a breath, drew her dignity around her.
“One of these days I’ll learn not to take people at face value. I trusted you, I was falling in love with you and I actually thought you’d started to care about me.”
That stung.
He’d never deliberately deceived her. Perhaps he’d never said it out right and it wasn’t true he didn’t have feelings for her, but it wasn’t possible. He was too busy, he had no room in his life for a relationship. As he’d learned with Devon. He wanted to start a whole new venture…
“Ali,” he said, gently, “I do care…”
It hurt far more than he expected, in fact, especially to see something precious disappear from her eyes…innocence, faith.
The pain went deep, all the touching, the holding… Had it all been…if not a lie, then…less than she’d thought…she’d felt? The thought that he might be patronizing her, trying to ease his way out with the fragile American shamed her.
She straightened her shoulders, bit her lip to hold back the tears and lifted her chin
With an effort, Ali said, “Don’t… Really, please, Aidan…”
She pulled her pride around her like a shawl, clung to it tightly.
Quickly she kissed him, once and hard, for the taste of him.
“If you need to go, then go.”
That pride caught at him, the warm soft kiss surprised him and sent a familiar rush of tenderness through him. Aidan’s heart twisted and for a brief moment he wanted to take all the words back, fold her in his arms and say he’d been wrong.
Sweet Ali…so lovely, so sweet…
As much as he’d wanted it, it couldn’t be. She was due to go back to America. He had his life here.
With an effort, he made himself walk to the door.
He looked back to see her sitting cross-legged on the bed, naked but for her brilliant hair tumbled around her, those incredible eyes bright, wearing nothing but that pride and dignity.
Ali wouldn’t send him away with tears, holding them back with an effort.
“I’ll miss you, Aidan,” she said.
It struck him that he’d miss her, too, but he didn’t say it.
Softly, he closed the door behind him and heard her try to swallow a sob through the door.
Deliberately, he made himself walk away, keep walking down the hall. There’d be a train station nearby, a cab, maybe a car hire.
He heard her begin to weep and cursed himself for not being more honest with her.
He’d forget but it would
take time. The image of her face as she turned to laugh at him or curled into his arms, already haunted him. A part of him wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake…
It was too late now though. He’d done it.
Chapter Twelve
Ali dried her face, shaking her head at herself for being stupid. For believing once again in magic. She fought back tears. It had only been a little over a week, not a month or months, but still…
Buts didn’t matter. She’d cared, given all of herself as she was prone to do. She fought off another bout of tears, brushed them away impatiently. She couldn’t even call the others, Cam, Molly, Jesse. At this hour they were still in bed back home.
It wasn’t the first time she’d faced such things alone, though. She’d done it all her life. Those days had been far harder, those long days when her mother had been sick, dying and Ali had been in a Home instead of at home. At night she would cry herself to sleep.
But Cam had been there, Molly fussing over her, Jesse with her brusque kindness, as they’d been there later.
This time she was alone.
She wouldn’t think of that now. Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she reminded herself that she wasn’t a lost little girl any more, she was a grown woman.
It had only been a couple of weeks, even if he had been intelligent, charming, sweet, handsome and sexy. There weren’t many men who could handle her intelligence but he hadn’t flinched at the brief glimpses she’d allowed. She couldn’t believe she’d never touch him again.
A fresh bout of tears threatened. Ali pushed it back. She’d do what she always did and bury herself in work.
Oddly enough, it was quitting her last job that had brought about the breakup with Dan. For the last two years at Jensen, with all her traveling, she’d rarely been able to make it home. He hadn’t seemed to mind, saying he was supportive of her career. Or so she’d thought. Until she quit before she crashed. Suddenly she was home a lot more and asking a lot more of him.
She wondered how long he would have kept the facade up, with her all unknowing. If Molly hadn’t been there at that party, his impromptu engagement party. To another woman. Someone more suitable than Ali for a professor’s wife. He’d been happy enough to make love to her the night before. As Aidan had.
Tears stung.
Now here she was.
She pushed it back again.
Then she’d thrown herself into the project that had brought her to Ireland. People who depended on her. They still did.
All right, so she was starting over again. That’s what she’d come to Ireland for, Ireland, the land of her mother, to do, and she was going to do it.
Mama. Mathair…
Her mother was long gone and there was only Ali now. It was an all or nothing crapshoot, and the one thing her memory couldn’t control was the roll of the dice.
She had things she needed to do, things only she could do. She needed to prepare, practice. There was the music, the timing.
She stepped into the shower to wash the scent of Aidan from her skin but not the man from her heart. Tears ran as she remembered making love to him the night before. Now she understood the intensity behind it. But when she was done her face was clean and dry.
Straightening her shoulders, Ali faced herself in the mirror. Her face was pale but she put makeup on with care to cover it, combed out her hair and made herself presentable. No one would ever know her heart was broken.
Then she dressed. She’d planned to buy her clothes here to save packing them. She would need to shop when she reached Dublin.
Picking up her bag, she looked back into the room once. Only once. The room they’d shared.
Aidan.
She could picture him stretched out on the bed, his black hair curling, the incredible muscles, his beautiful body, his brilliant blue eyes smiling at her with that warm Irish charm, beckoning to her with that devil-may-care smile.
A last tear fell.
She’d never regret this…never. It had been sweet, wonderful, and she’d loved him while she could. She was a survivor. It was what she did.
Turning, she let the hotel room door shut behind her.
Chapter Thirteen
The lights of the city outside were cold, distant and empty. Aidan stood at the window of his apartment sipping Jameson’s Reserve, the smooth uisce beatha going down warmly and looked out into the night. Behind him the rooms were dark, the city lights the only illumination.
He couldn’t sleep. The bed was cold, too large. He hoped the Jameson’s would help but it seemed unlikely in light of the two previous nights.
Unbelievable as it was, he still missed Ali. Missed the scent and feel of her, the sound of her laughter. There was nothing of her in this place and yet somehow she was here.
Where was she now? Had she stayed in Ireland? He hoped so. He hoped she’d gone down to Cork or driven up to Donegal. That she’d see the rest of the country. Whatever else, he hadn’t intended to ruin her trip.
For a moment, he almost felt her hands slide around his waist to lay her head against his back as she sometimes had done or duck under his arm to laugh up at him, her gilded eyes glowing. He missed lying in bed with her, the soft warmth of her. Unlike Devon, her feet had been no more cold than the rest of her. Sleeping with her had been like sleeping with a piece of the sun. She radiated heat. That reminded him of her hair…
Live life with more regrets for what you haven’t done than for what you have, live it as if there would be no tomorrow…
Ali…
He blew out a breath.
It would be a busy week. That would help.
Finally, he took himself to bed, only to wake tired and unsatisfied, reaching for someone who wasn’t there.
He showered, dressed and drove to Kerry Electronics. Which, ironically, had no offices in Kerry but been named to remind himself of his roots, that he’d begun as a Kerry lad. Growing up with Kevin and Caireann.
Eating in their kitchen with Ali dancing with Caitlin, both their faces alight, laughing. Ali’s quick flashes of emotion.
The building was his, built from the ground up after Kerry went public with the approval of the new board of directors. Aidan himself was CEO, his partner Brian CFO. The structure was clean, modern, and cold, to his regret. He’d been hoping it would feel more welcome once it was built but his growing dissatisfaction with being chained to the Board’s approval and Brian’s naysaying only made him feel trapped now.
“Morning, Aidan,” Maggie said as he passed her desk, getting up to follow him into his office.
Extremely efficient, Maggie, plump, round-faced and Irish to the core, was the epitome of the executive assistant, ten years his senior, married, organized and professional at all times.
This too, his office, was very modern, all glass and chrome, even his desk and the conference table. It was cold, barren.
It was here they’d taken the picture for the damned magazine article. With his longish hair, his arms folded, standing with the map at his back, they’d somehow made him look somewhat piratical, like the captain of a raiding corsair. When printed, there had been a banner across the page―Celtic Tiger, Aidan O’Connell, the Irish Bill Gates, as if he personified the Miracle.
So much trouble that had caused.
It was maddening. He’d learned not to trust anyone quickly or easily. Despite that shortly after he’d met Devon.
Every since he’d wondered if that was what pointed her in his direction that day at the charity event.
Tall, slender as a reed, the thin dress making it clear she wore no bra, her black hair perfectly styled, Devon had stalked across the room toward him with that model’s loose stride, her dark eyes giving him a challenging look. With her, it had always been challenges. He’d never felt he could satisfy her, personally, sexually…
Unlike Ali, who’d just given and asked nothing. She’d challenged only his mind.
He missed her, dreamed about her. Ali.
Resolutely, he put
both images out of his mind as Margaret rattled off his schedule for the day. It should be enough to keep him busy, too busy to think.
He sighed. If everything worked out, it wouldn’t be much longer and then he’d have new adventures, new talents, new challenges to keep him busy, to help him forget an elfin blonde with eyes of molten gold.
Except he wasn’t sure he wanted to or could. She’d brightened his life, reminded him joy existed, that he could be happy…and that there was more to life than work. Reconnected him to his friends, to his roots, to his country, reminded him of who he’d once been.
It had been bad enough when he hadn’t known what he was missing…but now he did.
Try to live life regretting more the things you hadn’t done than the things you had. If he could find her again? All the arguments about why it couldn’t work rose up but he wasn’t sure they were valid any longer.
And if he could find her? She was thousands of miles away…
Chapter Fourteen
Ali walked through the rehearsal again, listening to the music, moving to it, pacing herself so the timing was perfect. It was good, it would work as it was but it had to be perfect. More than perfect. If everything came together, it would be amazing.
She’d talked to Cam and the others earlier, taking comfort and reassurance from the familiar voices, smiling as she listened to Cam’s calm advice, Jesse and Molly chiming in from the background, their voices sympathetic.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” Jesse said stoutly.
Her voice soft, reassuring, Cam said, “She’s right, Ali. Don’t change. You’re a good person as you are. It’s not wrong to trust, or to love. He just doesn’t know the value of what he had. Remember why you’re there. What you’re there to accomplish.”
“Mental hugs,” Molly said.
It all mattered. Cam was right though. The symbolism was still there, it was still there in this place. She would remake herself here, in the land where her mother had been born, bringing things full circle.
Irish Fling Page 9
