A Kiss, a Dance & a Diamond

by Helen Lacey

  He ordered a club soda, waited for it to arrive and then spoke. “You shouldn’t drink alone.”

  “I’m not,” she said, staring ahead. “My friend Annie has just gone to the bathroom. And Connie will be here soon. Girls’ night out,” she said pointedly.

  Kieran ignored the dismissive tone and sipped his drink. “You look incredible.”

  “Thank you.”

  He turned in the stool. “Nice boots.”

  “Impractical,” she said and touched the top of the leather as she met his gaze. “But they were one of those things that I just had to have. Have you ever experienced that? You know, when there is something you simply have to have...and nothing else matters.”

  Yes...

  Kieran stared at her, swearing she had somehow swayed toward him because she seemed close. So close that the scent she wore traveled along every sense he possessed and made his libido jump. Her red lips were tantalizing, her boots a complete turn-on, her hair so beautiful he wanted to fist a handful of it and kiss her smooth neck.

  “Right now?” He smiled fractionally. “Yeah.”

  She met his gaze. “So, what are you doing here?”

  He shrugged. “Nightcap.”

  Her mouth curved in a slight smile. “Liar.”

  Kieran didn’t bother to deny it. “I thought we should talk.”

  “You didn’t want to talk the other night,” she reminded him. “You couldn’t leave quick enough.”

  “I was in shock,” he admitted.

  “And now?”

  “I’m wondering what you meant.”

  “What I meant?” she echoed. “What do you think I meant?”

  “That we should sleep together.”

  She grinned. “I thought sleeping was out of question? Just sex, remember...no strings.”

  Kieran’s insides did a crazy flip. Just talking to her, just being close to her scrambled his brain and sent all his good sense rushing south. But if she was offering a no-strings, no-expectations relationship, then he wasn’t stupid enough to refuse. But he wasn’t quite convinced she’d go through with it. The Nicola he knew wasn’t a casual-sex kind of woman. “Okay.”

  Her eyes widened, and she sat back on the stool. “Um...great. So, when do you want to...start?”

  He shrugged loosely. “You can call the shots on this one, Nic,” he said and slid off the stool. He grabbed a napkin, pulled a pen from his pocket and wrote down his cell number. “Call me when you want me.”

  Then he left, passing her friend Annie on the way out.

  * * *

  I’ve lost my mind.

  That was all Nicola could think as she stared at the bold scrawl on the paper napkin now sitting in her palm. Her heart rate churned. Sex without strings. Yeah...right.

  “You were right,” her friend Annie said as she slid onto the stool that he’d just vacated. “He’s as hot as ever.”

  Mortified, Nicola shook her head. “That’s not what I said.”

  Annie’s long, light brown hair swayed and she grinned. “Sure, you did...maybe not in so many words, but I’m good at reading between the lines.”

  Nicola took a long sip of her wine. “I’m going to sleep with him,” she announced and tilted her chin. “To get him out of my system once and for all.”

  Annie raised a cynical eyebrow. “Do you think that will do it?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “It will be cathartic.”

  “That’s not all it will be,” her friend said and winked. “Just don’t do something foolish like fall in love with him again.”

  “I won’t,” Nicola assured her and smiled. “I hate him too much to fall in love with him.”

  As the words left her mouth, Nicola tasted the lie...because she didn’t hate Kieran. Sure, she’d spent the best part of fifteen rage-filled years resenting him...but she wasn’t that angry, self-absorbed teenager any longer. Time had helped heal the wound. And his kindness toward Marco had made her realize that he’d changed, too. He’d always been kind...despite how cruel he’d been to her when they’d broken up.

  And he was clearly a wonderful doctor and cared for his patients. He was good with kids, too. She admired those qualities. Which didn’t mean she still harbored feelings for him...but it didn’t mean she hated him, either.

  “Have you ever had sex just for fun?” Annie asked and grinned.

  “Nope,” Nicola replied.

  “Good luck, then. Twenty bucks says you’re back in love with him within two weeks.”

  Nicola laughed at her friend’s ridiculous suggestion. She liked Annie, but the other woman was a pure romantic.

  “In love with who?” another voice said from behind them.

  Connie Bedford was smiling as she greeted them. Several years younger than Nicola and Annie, Connie had worked as Liam O’Sullivan’s personal assistant for five years and for J.D. prior to that and was well acquainted with all the O’Sullivans.

  “One guess,” Annie replied and smiled broadly.

  Connie laughed and took the stool beside her. “Do you need to see a doctor?” she asked, grinning.

  “No... I need to find some new friends,” Nicola said and laughed.

  “You’d be lost without us,” Annie said and grinned. “So, when are you going to do this?”

  “Do what?” Connie asked quickly.

  “Sleep with you-know-who,” Annie supplied and gave a wicked laugh. “Of course, we all know where that’s going to lead.”

  “To heartbreak,” Connie said, as though it was inevitable.

  “Gosh,” Nicola said and gave a fake grin. “You two are so good for my ego and self-confidence.”

  Annie tapped her arm reassuringly. “We just want to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

  “I won’t,” she assured her friend. “Whatever is going on between me and Kieran, it’s complicated. I don’t expect anyone to understand.”

  Both women nodded, and Nicola knew she was being cryptic but couldn’t explain her feelings toward Kieran any other way. They were wrapped up in memory and resentment and the need to purge all her lingering humiliation. And, yes, they were clearly still attracted to one another. Perhaps because they’d had such a public breakup, their connection was inevitable. Whatever the reason, Nicola was sure the only way to rid Kieran from her thoughts once and for all was to have a whole lot of hot and wild sex with him. Then so be it. It was the price she would have to pay.

  She left not long after, tired of pretending to be out having a great time. Not that she didn’t enjoy the company of her friends...she did, very much so. But she wasn’t in the mood to discuss her complicated love life. Not that her friends didn’t have problems. Annie didn’t date because she was secretly in love with her boss, and Connie didn’t date because she was focused on her career. Even so, Nicola didn’t want her own complicated mess to be the main topic of conversation.

  Her father was watching the boys, and she picked them up at nine o’clock. Johnny was happy to leave, and Marco dozed in the back seat on the drive home. Neither of them offered any resistance when they arrived home and were sent straight to bed. Once the kids were settled, Nicola changed her clothes and tossed the boots in the closet, remembering the way Kieran had looked at her wearing the ridiculously flirtatious heels. She’d purchased the boots on a foolish whim and had never worn them before, which meant she was paying the price with some mean-looking blisters on her heels. She made green tea, placed her laptop at the kitchen table and was about to settle in for an hour of doing wages and scheduling when her cell pinged. She checked the message immediately.

  I thought I’d spend some time with Marco tomorrow. And Johnny, too, if he’s interested. Okay? K.

  Nicola’s fingers tensed around the phone. She was grateful he was committing himself to the Big Brothers idea, but she couldn’t help thinking that the more
time he spent with her nephews, the more it would complicate their own ridiculous relationship. Not that they had a relationship. They didn’t have anything. Just some silly flirting and the vague intimation that they wanted to sleep together. Still, her nephew’s happiness came first. And she knew Marco would flourish under Kieran’s guidance. And Johnny, too, if he would agree to it. She typed a response.

  Sure. They’d like that.

  She waited for the familiar ping. It took a couple of minutes, and she wondered if he was having the same kind of ethical crisis that she was.

  See you tomorrow. Around 10. K.

  Nicola replied immediately, arranging the time before placing the phone back on the table. She spent the next hour neck-deep in scheduling and wages, but her wayward thoughts constantly strayed, thinking about seeing Kieran the following day. She turned in around midnight and woke after seven, getting little more than a few hours’ sleep, since Marco had had a bad dream in the middle of the night and she had been up and down trying to console him. Once the boys were out of bed and she had made breakfast, she informed Marco that Kieran was coming over. From that moment, her excited nephew remained on the porch waiting for him. Johnny didn’t seem as interested, but shrugged and said he’d think about it.

  Nicola didn’t do anything as obvious as hanging around on the porch but instead spent the morning busying herself with laundry and housekeeping. She was in the kitchen, making up a batch of lasagna for later, when she heard her nephew speaking excitedly, firing out questions she knew might have made anyone else run a mile. But not Kieran—he was patient and kind and listened to Marco’s suggestions without so much as a frustrated sigh. And suddenly she was jealous and wishing she possessed the same quiet endurance that he did. Most days, Nicola felt as though she was hanging on by a thread, trying to figure out parenting as she went along. But Kieran was a natural, so at ease and confident. And she envied that ability.

  She was wiping her hands with paper towel when she heard him speak.

  “Morning, Nic.”

  Nicola turned and spotted him in the doorway. In jeans, a pale blue polo shirt and his aviator jacket, he looked wholly masculine. His hair was mussed, like he’d just run a hand through it, and she noticed his jaw was clean-shaven. He looked so gorgeous that her knees almost gave way when he smiled. And suddenly she was seventeen again and hopelessly in love with him. Nicola took a long breath and willed away the images that bombarded her thoughts—Kieran kissing her gently at their special spot down by the river; Kieran dancing with her behind the barn at the O’Sullivan ranch; Kieran telling her she was the love of his life after they’d made love for the first time. The memories resurfaced with a vengeance, making a mockery of every ounce of rage in her heart. Because she could handle wanting him. Sex was one thing. But feelings—real ones—they were harder to explain away. And she didn’t want to hang on to any lingering feelings she had for Kieran—that would be plain stupid.

  “Hi,” she managed to say. “Where’s Marco?”

  “Getting a pad and pencil,” he replied and moved into the kitchen. “I had an idea I wanted to run by you.”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  “A pond,” he said and came around the counter. “Like a fishpond in the backyard. I thought it could be a good project to get Marco interested in. And help with his fear of water.”

  Nicola stilled. “Oh... I guess. Although I’m not sure I can afford too much—”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll pay for it.”

  “I couldn’t possibly accept—”

  “No point in having all the O’Sullivan money if I can’t put it to good use every now and then,” he said and grinned, cutting her off again. “Right?”

  “I’m not a charity case,” she said, her back straightening, her pride bolstering. “And I have no intention of taking—”

  “Oh, for god’s sake, Nic,” he said impatiently, cutting her off yet again. “Stop being so damned stubborn. I want to do this. Actually, I insist,” he said pointedly.

  “And you always get what you want?” she shot back.

  His head tilted fractionally. “Not always. Time will tell, I suppose.”

  Nicola wasn’t even going to try to touch that one. “You’re so...so...”

  “I’m back!”

  Marco... Nicola was grateful her nephew had bounded into the room. As he began dragging Kieran outside, her irritation turned into an inexplicable sense of gratitude. Marco was happy. And that was all that mattered. Not her old resentment, her fears or her traitorous libido. She could compartmentalize her feelings for Kieran and make them only about sex.

  She had to.

  * * *

  “I think it should go right here.”

  Kieran raised both eyebrows and shook his head. “I don’t think your aunt would appreciate a fishpond right next to the vegetable garden, do you?”

  The boy’s mouth twisted. “I suppose not.”

  Kieran looked around the yard, ignoring the twitch in his gut when he thought about Nicola. He’d been outside for about five minutes, and it still wasn’t enough time to forget about the way she wound him up. She always had. Even when they’d been dating, she’d always been fiercely independent. And she hadn’t shed a tear the day they broke up—instead, her notorious temper had surfaced, calling him every name she could. Not that he hadn’t deserved it. He had and probably still did.

  But he was suddenly tired of the animosity. He didn’t want to be at war with Nicola.

  He wanted her in his bed.

  Kieran shook off the thought and walked around the yard. It was neat, with a swing set in one corner and a garden shed in another. And several empty garden beds that looked as though they had once thrived. The stump of an old oak tree that had been turned into a bench sat near the fence line.

  “My dad made that seat for my mom,” Marco said, bottom lip wobbling. “But I don’t remember much about it. I miss them a lot.”

  “I know you do.”

  “But I think Johnny misses them more than me.”

  Kieran kept walking. “You do? Why?”

  “Because he never talks about them.”

  The boy’s logic was spot-on. It was why Kieran never spoke about Christian. Because it was too hard. Too painful. He looked up to the second story and spotted Johnny standing in the one of the windows, staring down at them and scowling before he turned away and disappeared.

  “Do you think your brother might want to help out with the fishpond?”

  Marco shrugged. “Dunno. He doesn’t do much except play video games. He plays them even more than me.”

  Kieran grinned. “If it’s okay with you, how about we ask him?”

  Marco considered the idea, his expression suddenly serious. “I guess. As long as he’s not mean to me.”

  “I’m sure he won’t be,” Kieran assured him as they reached the step by the small back porch.

  Nicola was by the door, watching them, wearing a long dress that floated over her curves. Her hair was down, and her face was free of makeup. She looked young and as pretty as hell.

  “So, what’s the verdict?” she asked, stepping toward the edge of the porch and leaning on the balustrade. “Doable?”

  “I think so,” he replied. “We just have to pick the right spot.”

  She pointed toward an old, staggered flower bed. “Over there.”

  He nodded. “Sure. The ground isn’t level, so it will need a bit of work, but I think it’s as good a spot as any.”

  Her mouth curled at the edges. “Can it have a fountain?”

  Kieran half smiled. “It can have anything you want.”

  She came down the steps. “And a sculpture?”

  He expelled a breath. “Uh...sure.”

  The scent of her fragrance assailed his senses, and he instinctively took a step back, putting space b
etween them. Last night, they’d talked about sex...about giving in to the desire that was clearly still between them. But today...today wasn’t about that. Today was about friendship. About a connection deeper than simple sex. Not that sex was simple, either. Nothing was simple when it came to Nicola.

  “And maybe it could have a light...you know, that would stay on in the evenings.”

  His simple fishpond idea was taking on a life of its own. “Okay... I might need to take a quick class at fishpond design school.”

  She laughed, and the sound hit him directly in the solar plexus. “Sorry, I’m getting carried away.”

  “Don’t apologize,” he said and passed her the notepad and pencil. “Sketch.”

  She shook her head. “You know I can’t draw.”

  He did. “Just put down your ideas.”

  She sighed. “If you’re sure...”

  “Positive,” he replied.

  She sat down on a small garden bench by the steps and sketched for a few minutes, Marco hovering over her every stroke. They looked alike, he realized, and Kieran suddenly had a vision of Nicola with a child of her own, a girl with dancing eyes and curly dark hair. The idea hit him with the force of a freight train. Back when they’d dated, he’d been super careful about birth control, determined not to get her pregnant when they were so young. He pushed the thought away, refusing to imagine how beautiful she would look with a child growing in her belly.

  His child...

  “Are you okay?”

  Nicola’s voice, jerking him from his foolish trance. “Yes, of course.”

  She got up and passed him the sketch pad. “You’re right,” he said and grinned. “You can’t draw.”

  Marco began to laugh, and Nicola waved her hands. “Okay, you two, stop making fun.”

  Kieran fought the urge to grasp her hand and pull her close because, in that moment, she was eminently kissable. His palms itched, and he quickly pushed the idea away.