Confused and irritated, he looked at his brother. “You’re not going to be happy with me.”
Kristoff shrugged. “Won’t be the first time.”
“No, I mean it. You’re really going to be pissed off when I tell you I showed her the chest. I know I made you swear not to tell a soul, but I was weak and I felt like I could tell Lorraine anything. I thought I could trust her.”
“So, what did she say that changed all that?” Kristoff asked, throwing his arm above the couch and getting settled in for the long conversation at hand.
Leif hesitated to explain it all. In his head, it all sounded so ridiculous and he knew his brother would laugh his arse off at Lorraine’s reincarnation fetish. Worse yet, Kristoff would think her to be as nutty as a nine-bob note. Though he knew he shouldn’t care how Kristoff felt about her, he did. It would kill him to hear his brother insult her and make jokes about her. Shaking his head, he stood up and headed for the kitchen. Coffee is what he needed. Strong coffee.
Kristoff followed him. “What did she say, Leif?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said over his shoulder. “I let you down. I betrayed your trust when you gave me yours unconditionally.”
Kristoff slid into the closest chair at the table. “You’re letting a good woman go because you’d rather beat yourself up for something you did to me? Doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t matter if it makes sense to you. I’m not trying to make excuses for what I did. I fell too fast for a woman and left my heart unguarded. Until this morning, I thought she was the one. I rushed in and now I’m regretting it. End of story.” Hands on the counter, Leif watched the slow drop of the coffee, his last words of explanation to Kristoff slicing deep.
End of story.
He clenched his hands into tight fists. He didn’t want their story to be over. It had only just begun. He recalled their nightly walk along the beach and the way he carried her back to the house, her beautiful face tucked perfectly in his neck. With her cradled against him, it was as if the crook of his arm was ideally made for the curve of her body.
From that vision, he trailed off to the memories of the candlelight dinner she’d made for him and the pleasures they shared in his guest room. He could still taste her on his lips as he remembered the way they’d made sweet love to each other. The way she straddled and rode him until he couldn’t hold back any longer. She’d given him all of herself, and perhaps that’s where he went wrong. He allowed her to offer everything she had because, dammit, it felt right. Her kind of love was something he’d needed and once he tasted it, he wanted more. Through his greed, he encouraged her to give it from the very first kiss they shared and, in return, he left his heart vulnerable.
Thinking of that first kiss, he called to mind the way he felt when taking her lips. The thought of her sensuous mouth played with his good sense, making him actually give thought to Lorraine’s half-baked rationalization. If he could allow himself, just for a second, to believe they were lovers from a previous era, it would certainly explain the peculiar sensations of familiarity sneaking up on him every time they’d touched. It would support the numerous déjà vu-like visions he’d had of her, reminiscent of medieval times. But because he wasn’t so apt to believe in such nonsense, he refused to waste any more time on it.
He had to forget her. Somehow, someway, he had to sever himself from the unyielding tie she had secured around his heart. Fierce was the knot she had drawn around him and he feared it would take more than a lifetime to separate himself from her.
Determined to get a jump on forever, he swiped two coffee mugs from his cabinet. “You want coffee?”
Kristoff cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. “I hope it tastes better than the shit you made last time.”
Leif let his brother’s remark slide off his back and poured the black brew into the cups anyway. Sitting across from Kristoff, he stared into his mug. “How do you detach yourself from a woman?”
Kristoff nearly choked on his coffee. “What?”
“How do you do it?” Leif asked, desperate for answers. “How can you be with all those women and not care about them? How can you walk away after spending time in their bed, finding out what makes them shudder in delight and call out your name? How can you forget the sweet smell of their skin, the feel of their softness beneath you, the sound of their voice in your ears?”
Kristoff crossed his arms and shook his head. “I can forget all that because they mean nothing to me and I mean nothing to them. Now, if I found the woman I wanted to spend my life with, I’d be royally screwed. Just like you.”
“So, you’re not mad at me for showing her the chest?”
“Not for that,” Kristoff waved off. “I am mad at you for running Lorraine off when she was standing in the hallway with nothing on but a sheet. She was mighty easy on the eyes this morning.”
“Is there not one ounce of couth in your body?”
“You say that as if you don’t know me by now. Had I said anything different, you’d be calling Dr. O’Donnell and claiming I hit my head too.”
“I suppose so.”
Kristoff took a long sip of his coffee, studying Leif. “So, I take it Lorraine’s not coming to your party tonight?”
Shit. Leif completely forgot about the birthday party his brother concocted. “I’m not really in the mood for it.”
“You’ll change your mind once you have a few pints in you.”
“I’m afraid it’s going to take more than a few pints.”
Kristoff smiled and raised his mug. “Now that sounds like a man on a mission. My kind of brother. As the man of the hour, you should have no problem forgetting her.”
Clearly, Kristoff didn’t understand the grasp Lorraine O’Connor had on him. How could he, when he barely understood it himself.
Chapter Twenty-seven
The taste of Beth’s lips was incredible and the way she slammed him up against the wall of the entryway in his house was even better. Patrick had worked like a fiend shoeing horses all week to clear his schedule for Friday so he could spend the entire day with her. All afternoon, they had gone horseback riding on his farm, cooled off in the lake by early evening, and now, by the passion in her kiss, he knew where they were headed.
Unsure if he was ready to go there, he grasped her by the wrists and pulled her hands from his hair. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” she murmured against his lips. “But not for food.”
He smiled at her persistence and tried to slip away from her. “Maybe we should slow down.”
Beth looked at him, a flash of disappointment in her eyes. She glanced down below his belt, his body’s reaction to her advances giving him away. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Contrary to him,” Patrick said, gesturing toward his hardened lower half. “Yes. I’m sure.”
Beth neared him again, sauntering up close to his chest. Her hands slid up his arms and over his shoulders. “Why do you resist me?”
Patrick couldn’t help but inhale the intoxicating aroma of her skin. She had always smelled good to him, but as she kissed his neck, her warm vanilla scent drove him wild.
He closed his eyes, not really knowing why he restrained himself where Beth was concerned. She was certainly his type of woman; naturally pretty with a small athletic build, dark silky ebony hair and light piercing eyes. Despite his attraction to her, something inside him always seemed to hold him back.
He hated to think it might be because of Lorraine for it seemed wrong on so many levels. She was his best friend. They practically grew up together as siblings and she never looked at him as anything more. All of those reasons kept him from looking at her in a deeper intimate manner. No matter how much he cared for her, his feelings were not supposed to run deeper than brotherly love.
Battling Beth’s question in his head, he ignored thoughts of Lorraine and allowed his body to take over. Cupping her face, he drew Beth’s lips to his, tasting the sweetness of her
mouth again. Their tongues slowly tangled and his body stiffened accordingly. He ached to feel Beth’s touch upon his rigid body. He always did when she was near, but he’d never indulged in the pleasures of premarital sex before. In trying to act the way a true gentleman should, he always made sure to avoid occasions where sleeping together might become an option. Lorraine, though no fault of her own, often helped prevent many of those nights from happening. Now that she was in Ireland, he had no good excuse for not giving in to Beth’s desires, or his own.
He felt her hands roam down his body, his heart pounding against his ribs. The scrape of her nails along his stomach knotted him up and once he felt her hands working on his belt and fly, it was enough to undo him.
With her fingertips sliding past the flaps of his opened jeans, she caressed him on the outside of his boxers with soft skillful hands. An unruly groan escaped him and he kissed her deeper. He lost all thought for gentlemanly conduct and backed her down the hall toward his bedroom.
Just as he reached the door, his pocket vibrated and he shuddered. Absorbed in the wild abandon of their kiss, he didn’t comprehend that his cell was ringing until the second vibrate. His eyes flew open and he jerked from Beth’s embrace as he shoved his hand in his pants.
“What’s wrong?”
“My phone,” he mumbled breathlessly, looking at the display. Lorraine.
Beth snatched it from his hand, lust still glittering in her eyes. “You don’t need this right now.”
Patrick hoped she wouldn’t take notice of the caller on the screen. Stepping toward her, he grasped the phone with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist. “You’re right. It can wait.”
Taking her lips again, he tossed the phone on his dresser, commencing what he had already committed to. He first heard her whimper from the aggressiveness of his feverish kiss and then a playful laugh as if she really enjoyed this unexpected side of him. He liked it, too. He was tired of denying himself Beth’s love. They had been together for more than a year and it was time to let her know how obligated he wished to be toward her. She’d been patient long enough.
Grabbing the hem of her shirt, he lifted it over her head, her generous breasts filling out a silky black bra. His mouth watered as he gazed at her sumptuous curves, swallowing many times before reaching for the front clasp.
Taking in the sight of her tan lines against the stark white of her breasts, he ripped his shirt over his back, eager to feel them against his bare skin. Flush against her, he could feel the tight peaks of her nipples against his chest as he backed her toward the bed. With the mattress behind her knees, she sat down and scooted back upon the bed, her eyes boring into his.
Standing between her legs, he awkwardly undid her fly, his hands trembling. He hated that she saw this kind of weakness in him. “I’ve never done this with anyone before.”
“I know,” she whispered with a gentle smile. “And I’m so pleased that you’ve decided to make me your first.”
Clamping down on the intense desire raging through him, he grasped the denim at her ankles, pulling her clothes from her body. He watched how her slim muscular legs took shape before his eyes, his erection thickening in his jeans. In seconds, he tore his pants and boxers as one from his own body and climbed upon her, the mattress giving under his weight.
He braced himself with his elbows and stared into her eyes, the feel of her softness beneath him tormenting his senses. Aroused to the point of pain, he slipped his hand along her body and over her hip, embracing her in a solid hold. “Forgive me if—”
“Shh…” she soothed, her hands stroking the tense muscles of his back. “You’ll be fine.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“Just shut up and kiss me.”
Her playful demand brought a smile to his lips. Though it did little to ease his nervousness, he did as she bid him, pressing his lips ever so slightly to hers. This kiss was different, he noted inwardly. She teased him with slow tentative brushes of her tongue along his lips, and he enjoyed the deliberate serenity of this moment.
As he tolerated the sensual movements of her body beneath his, he felt her hand guide his to the alluring crevice between her thighs. “Feel me,” she whispered heatedly.
With tender fingertips, he felt the wet softness of her silken folds. Afraid to say anything, he looked at her, his breath held.
“I’m ready for you,” she declared, as if she understood his reluctance.
Being a man, he knew he had a responsibility to please his woman. But his inexperience didn’t offer him the wisdom of where to start or what she expected at this point. On the edge of doubt, his phone hummed behind him on his dresser. He flinched.
“Ignore it,” Beth stated, grinding against him.
He tried. Like the devil he tried as her wet warmth pressed into his rigid body. His arousal instinctively drew to the expectation of entering her. The thought of sliding into her body was so severe he thought he’d burst.
Again, the phone vibrated.
Patrick respired in frustration, torn between staying attentive to Beth and answering Lorraine. He knew what he should do given the heat of the moment, but with the distraction of his noisy cell and Lorraine’s persistence, it was nigh on impossible to focus.
He clenched his jaw as it resounded again.
“It’s Lorraine, isn’t it?”
Patrick could hear the disparagement strangling Beth’s voice. “Just let me see what she wants.”
He felt her arms drop on the bed in annoyance. “Why don’t you just turn it off for now?”
“There must be something wrong, Beth. She’s never this adamant.” He slid from the bed and padded to the dresser, ignoring the heavy sigh resonating in his ears. Lorraine’s name lighted the display as he predicted, but he had no idea why she’d be calling this many times in a row. During her stay, since she’d met Leif, she hardly called at all. Fearing something bad had happened, he pushed the accept button, his gut twisting inside him.
“Hello?”
Lorraine’s voice squealed through the speaker and immediately he knew she was crying as she rattled off something about ruining everything. His heart sank.
“Rain, slow down,” he instructed kindly. “I can’t understand you. You did what?”
“I ruined everything, Patrick. Leif wants nothing to do with me.”
He glanced at Beth, making sure she was still on the bed. Fighting against the urge to hang up and pounce on her temptingly sprawled body, he held up one finger.
“What do you mean he wants nothing to do with you?”
Beth sat up and gave him a sharp look. As he listened to Lorraine explain, he rushed to the bed and stopped Beth from sliding off the edge. With his naked body in front of her, his erection still at its fullest, he eyed her curiously.
Daringly, she reached out and took hold of him. He shuddered from the sudden grip of her fist around him, Lorraine’s voice slipping from his concentration. The look in Beth’s eyes was difficult to ignore as she prepared to take him into her mouth. Her tongue, darting out to wet her lips, had him nearly buckling at the knees.
“…and he told me to get my things and go.”
Lorraine’s last words jarred him back into the conversation. He pulled from Beth’s alluring gesture of foreplay and turned from the bed. “Leif said this?” he questioned, trying to put together the pieces of the story he’d missed.
“Yes,” Lorraine cried in exasperation. “He said the only thing he and I shared was an obsessive desire to encourage love when it never existed to begin with. Some of us a little more fanatical than the other.”
Patrick heard the sheer panic in her voice in between the heavy sobs of despair and he paced the room. “Where are you now?”
“I’m in my room at the Man of Aran Cottage. Oh, Patrick, what am I going to do? I’ve lost him. I’ve lost my only chance of being with him. I think I’m going to be sick. I need to come home.”
Patrick clenched the phone at his
ear. “Rain, don’t be rash. You still have more than a week left in Ireland. A lot can happen in the next few days. Maybe he needs some space. What you told him is a lot for a man to process. Give him time. Don’t rush him.”
“What if he never sees things the way I do?”
Patrick had no idea what to tell her. He could certainly sympathize with Leif and how he was taking the news. Finding out he may be the reincarnated soul of a Viking warrior, married to a medieval princess was not easy to digest. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Why did you tell him in the first place? I thought you were going to let nature take its course.”
“I was, but this morning he showed me something he had dug up near his house. It was the chest filled with things he had given me as a wedding gift years ago. He found it right outside the perimeter of his porch and I got excited. I had to tell him.”
Turning toward the bed to let Beth know he’d only be a few minutes more, he stopped in his tracks. The bed was empty save for the impression her body had left. Her clothes, once scattered on the floor, were gone. A heavy stone of guilt sank in his stomach.
“Hold on a second, Lorraine.” Covering the phone, he ran from the room and called for Beth. Dead silence answered. Hanging his head, he returned the cell to his ear.
“Patrick?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Were you with Beth just now?”
He shrugged the displeasure from his voice as best he could. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” she exclaimed, sobbing again. “You have to go to her.”
“The damage is done. She’s gone.”
“Oh my gosh, I’ve ruined two people’s lives.”
“It’s not your fault, Rain,” he tried to comfort as he heard the sound of her grief. Hearing her pain was like a knife to his heart and he couldn’t help but want to be with her. Knowing he’d not likely see Beth again, he stormed to his office and slumped in the chair in front of his computer. “Just stay where you are. I’m coming to you. I’ll take the next flight and be at your door by tomorrow afternoon.”
The Emerald Isle Trilogy Boxed Set Page 87
