by Ella Brooke
"You tell me," he said, sounding just as exasperated as she felt. "You're the one who needed a rescue earlier today."
She could feel herself getting a bit hot under the collar, and it was getting a little harder to remember that this man had after all, saved her.
"Let me tell you something true," she said. "No fees, no fortunes, no cards, this is a present, just for you, because I like you. You and so many other men seem to think that if a woman plays her cards right, if she just sticks to well-lit streets and walks in groups and never ever takes any risks at all that she will be safe from all the bad things that happen. You think that all crimes and dangers are preventable, and that only little fools get mugged or kidnapped.
"However, the truth is that it doesn't matter how careful you are, or how smart or strong or prepared. You may have reduced the chances of something awful happening to you but you'll never put it away entirely."
"So by your logic, you should take all the bad risks you like, sleep rough at a damned bus station, wander the world, because there's a chance bad things would have happened to you anyway?"
At this point, Natalie could feel her patience running out. She glared at Patrick, and handsome or not, chemistry or not, the man was a jerk.
"Are you honestly telling me that you would tell a man to stay home and to never take any risks at all? That his television in his living room is just as good as the world that he lives in? That he should just be content to live a small life when there's so much the world has to offer?
"Ever since I started this experience, started all this travel, it's been amazing. I have seen so many people and so many wonderful things. It's true, tonight was a little rough. What happens tonight, I don't know. Maybe I'll find one more person interested in a reading tonight. Maybe I'll spend sometime sleeping at the bus station and wake up knowing exactly what I am going to do with the rest of my life. Who knows?
"The important thing is that I will be living my life and that when the time comes, I will have far less regret than I would if I had stayed right where I was put."
Patrick looked as if she had sprouted another head, and Natalie knew that it was time to be off. Sometimes, people could not communicate with one another, and the differences could be brutal. She learned long ago not to butt her head against granite walls, and now she was suspecting that Patrick was a granite wall.
"Thank you for dinner," she said, standing up. "It was delicious. And thank you for the rescue, because I truly am grateful. You're... well, you're amazing, and I hope you know that."
She slipped away from the table before he could say anything, and when he called after her, she kept walking.
***
Natalie had barely made it down the block when a hard hand looped through her elbow. She realized that she was still quite tense from the attack earlier because she swung around as if she were on a pivot, her free hand coming up in a hard fist with all the weight of her body behind it.
"Great God, woman!"
Patrick let go of her arm, barely dodging her fist. She stared at him because she had genuinely expected him to stay at the restaurant.
"What are you doing here?" she blurted out, and he shook his head.
"You truly are maddening, you know that?" he asked. "I think I gave the waitress the price of dinner as a tip. You wouldn't stop, and I just threw down the cash on my way out."
She grinned at him, almost against her will.
"Well, I have to say that you probably made her night. I bet you are not even going to go back to try to reclaim it."
He glared at her.
"Do I look so very miserly?" he asked. "What... why are we talking about this?"
"Well, I'm not sure what else you want to talk about," she said practically. "Unless you want another fortune read."
He glared at her, and Natalie hid a smile behind her hand. She had never really thought of herself as a playful person, but there was something so much fun about teasing this man, so much fun about watching his fine dark brows draw together in irritation.
"You are a girl who likes to play a dangerous game," he growled, and maybe he was right at that.
"And what business is it of yours?" she asked politely.
Natalie watched in fascination as a number of conflicting emotions ran across his face. There was definitely some irritation, that was easy to see. However, she wondered if she saw some concern, some consternation, and some worry as well. It was so strange to see those emotions from a stranger that she was tempted to believe that she had just imagined them.
"It's my business because I saved you just a short while ago," he said bluntly. "And now it looks to me as if you are going to trip off and undo all of my hard work."
She paused, because he had helped her. Natalie was not so foolish as to think that she would have been anything close to fine without him, and that did mean something to her.
"So what do you want me to do?" she asked, her voice gentler than her words might have implied. "Do you want me to change the course of my life just on your say-so, Patrick?"
He blinked at a little at her use of his name. There was a part of Natalie that liked saying it very much, but she thought that it would likely be a good idea to ignore that for a while, if not forever.
"No," he said, and when he spoke again, there was something soft about it, something almost hesitant. "I want you to have a place to sleep tonight," he said quietly. "I don't want you in a hostel where God knows who could be lurking behind a door, where you don't even have a bedroom of your own. I just want you safe. I don't want to think of anything bad happening to you."
Almost blindly, he reached out to touch her hand, and in her surprise, she allowed it. His touch was warm, almost beseeching, and with an uneasy feeling, Natalie realized that there was quite a lot she might be willing to do for this man if he only asked her.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked, and a little of her frustration came out at that. "It really doesn't matter all that much what you thought of my past choices. I can't reach back in time and undo them, no matter what you seem to think I should feel."
He opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself and shook his head, and she wondered what he had been planning to say. He drew a breath and started again. "Come back to my place with me," he said quietly. "Please. Nothing inappropriate. Nothing crude or lewd at all, I promise. I just want you to have a place to stay for the night. Tomorrow morning... well, perhaps just this once we can let tomorrow morning take care of itself."
Natalie studied him closely.
"You're not used to flying without a plan, are you?" she asked softly. "You like to know exactly what is going on no matter what, no matter what kind of situation is at hand."
He smiled at her, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his trousers.
"You have no idea," he said gravely, and for some reason that made her smile.
"All right," she said, relenting. "We'll do things your way. I'll sleep on your couch tonight."
"And tomorrow we shall see what it brings."
Chapter Four
They were only a short walk away from the townhouse that Patrick owned. Dublin was a tightly-compacted city, and after just a few blocks of walking, they came to an area that felt rich and luxurious. Patrick insisted on carrying her backpack, and as she turned around to look at the elegant homes, she felt oddly light.
There was a kind of fairytale charm to the townhouses on Patrick's street, lit up as they were against the darkness. The steeped roofs above, the elegant doors, the black wrought iron fences preserving their jealously green little yards. It was a beautiful place.
"I feel like the Little Match Girl," she said, walking by Patrick's side.
He shot her an amused look.
"Isn't that the story where the little girl watches all the people at the window?"
"It is," she said, glancing at him. "A lot of people think it's really sad, but I've always liked it. She gets warm, and then she finds all the people that she
truly loves and who truly love her."
"She dies of cold and malnutrition because no one could be bothered to look the hell up," Patrick retorted. "But look, here we are."
His house was especially handsome, and once inside, Natalie looked around with interest. The furnishings were lavish, but there was restraint in the decor. The house was an eclectic mix of traditional and modern. The perfectly maintained brass fireplace screen had to be a hundred years old, but the flat screen television tucked into the cabinet was state of the art, as was the security system that Patrick dialed in to.
"I have to admit, this isn't what I expected," she said, and Patrick shot her an amused look, slinging his jacket over a chair.
"And what did you expect, pet?" he said.
For some reason, the endearment made her shiver a little, the pleasure a silvery feeling that ran up her spine. She had to shrug it off before she could continue speaking to him like a rational person.
"I don't know, perhaps something ultramodern and sparse? Or maybe you would have gone the other way, and everything would have come from a very specific year in, like, 1887 or something."
Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. Now that he was in his own space, there was something easy about him; a little looser, a little lighter. She found that she liked the change, and she drifted to stand close to him as he rummaged in a closet in the hall.
"I like to think that I have a little more sense than that," he said absently. "I love the history of my home, but I am not so foolish as to think that everything was better in the good old days just because I wasn't around to see the bad of it."
"Very sensible," she said with a smile.
He brought out an armful of blankets and a pillow, settling them onto the couch in a small library nook. There was something immensely soothing about the alcove, and as she looked around Natalie found herself smiling with pleasure.
"Better than the bus station?" he asked teasingly, but she smiled at him.
"I'm sure you know it is. Thank you. I know this will be very comfortable."
"Good. I still have a bit of work to do, so I think I'll do that. You should sleep whenever you like, but if you want a shower first, the bathroom on this floor is right down the hall."
"Sounds good."
He turned away, and without thinking too hard about what she was doing, she took his hand, stopping him. She breathed against the shock that she felt when skin touched skin. She thought she saw him feeling it as well, but he remained silent.
"Thank you," she said softly. "For everything. I didn't exactly make it easy on you, but you're helping me anyway."
For a moment, Natalie thought that he would go stiff and formal on her, but when Patrick smiled at her, it warmed her from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.
"You are very welcome, Natalie."
The shower was spartan but welcoming, and as she delighted in using up as much hot water as she wanted, she thought of how strange a turn things had taken. She thought that she was headed for another night at the hostel — at best — and now here she was, in a beautiful townhouse with a man who made her blood sing.
He's kind, so very kind, she thought, but if she were being honest with herself, she would have known that it was more than that. There was something about Patrick that made her yearn for him, and that was just a very bad idea. She’d had her fill of love for the moment, thank you very much, and the last thing that she wanted was to find herself infatuated with a man who, while kind, likely alphabetized his socks by brand and order number.
Natalie climbed out of the shower, drying herself on an enormous towel that was ridiculously soft. She had to admit that being on the road made you pay more attention to these simple luxuries. She was fortunate that her nightgown, a white cotton number with only a bit of cream ribbon at the hem for decoration was clean.
The couch in the little reading nook was absurdly comfortable, but for some reason, even when she was tucked in, she couldn't sleep.
Well, I can just read until I feel tired, I guess, she thought.
The books covered a variety of topics, and she found a collection of Sherlock Holmes stories she had never gotten through before. Despite her odd situation, she fell into the stories with ease. When a clock somewhere in the house struck midnight, she looked up with a yawn.
She knew that she should get to sleep, and just as she turned over and tugged the blanket around her shoulders, something occurred to her:
Did I ever hear Patrick go up the stairs to his own room?
The question was one that she tried to put out of her mind, but it nagged at her, nipping at her mind like a dog insisting on play. Finally, she had to give in to her own impulses. Natalie rose from the bed, draping one of the lovely warm quilts around her shoulders. The temperature had dropped significantly over the course of the night, and she shivered as she made her way silently through the house. She decided that she wouldn't go upstairs, which she assumed was a more personal space, but there was nothing wrong with stretching her legs a little before bed, was there?
Natalie was just thinking that perhaps she was wrong, perhaps she had simply not noticed Patrick making his way upstairs, when she realized that light shone from under a cracked door. For a moment, she was worried about privacy, but then a small and rebellious impulse struck her. Biting her lip slightly, Natalie pushed the door open, ready to reprimand Patrick sternly for staying up past his bedtime. What she saw made her swallow the words quickly, and she looked at the scene before her in surprise.
Patrick's study was paneled in dark wood and featured a computer system that she could recognize as state of the art. His desk was an imposing edifice of oak and leather, and she supposed that it would have been quite impressive if it hadn't been for the man slumped over it.
For a moment, seeing his limp form slumped down with his head on the desk, Natalie feared the worst. Just as she started for him, forever, a loud snore came from the half-prone man, and she giggled a little instead.
She knew that she should simply close the door and go back to her own space, but something held her back. This was a scene that felt as if it had been repeated many many times. She was probably intruding. And yet...
Natalie drifted into the study, letting the door close behind her. She felt oddly daring as she ventured behind the desk, a place that only Patrick himself occupied. She felt as if she couldn't take her eyes off of him, and now that he was well and truly asleep, she only wanted to look at him. Natalie stood next to where he sat at the desk, studying him intently.
He was an astonishingly good looking man, and in sleep, he was relaxed enough that he looked far younger than his thirty-four years. There was something undeniably sensuous about his parted lips, about the way his dark hair tumbled over his forehead. Even the rise and fall of his breath made her sigh a little. It seemed like such an intimate thing.
Before Natalie could stop herself, she reached out to brush a lock of hair back from his brow. She was startled to find his hair so soft, and it was all she could do to avoid running her fingers through his hair.
He sighed a little in his sleep, making Natalie flinch back a little, but then he settled again, pillowing one arm under his head.
He really does work too much if falling asleep at his desk is a regular occurrence.
She paused, wondering what she was going to do, but then she shrugged. There was no reason not to be kind to him after all.
“Patrick,” she whispered. “It's time to go to bed. You can't sleep here, you'll give yourself the most awful crick in your neck...”
He roused at her words, but when he blinked those gorgeous blue eyes at her, she knew that he was half-awake at best. There was something incredibly adorable about the way he looked at her, and she grinned.
“Come on, I'll put you to bed,” she said, and he grumbled.
“I'm not a child,” he said, but it seemed to be more for form's sake than anything else. He stood up when she pushed him on the shoulder.
&n
bsp; “You know who says that? Children,” she said with satisfaction. “Now all right, let's—”
She was cut off as he looped one arm over her neck. He was not leaning all of his weight on her, but she could definitely feel him as he pressed against her. She felt that longing open up in her again, and Natalie quickly told herself that she was not here to have a fling with over-worked Irish businessmen.
“Come on,” she said putting a bit of sternness into her voice. “You can't sleep here. At the very least, it will make your clothes all ratty. Now, to find your bedroom...”
The townhouse was tall and slender, and soon enough, she found a staircase that led up to the second floor. It was a winding thing, a spiral stretched out, and she bit her lip, taking extra care to keep her steps steady. It had been funny enough when he was asleep at his desk, but she had to say that she found absolutely nothing funny about the idea of Patrick stumbling and tumbling down these very stairs very late at night.
“You really need to make better decisions,” she muttered as they made it to the second floor. She had not meant anything by it, but she was startled when his head turned towards her and a slow, distinctly lupine grin crossed his face.
“I don't have any problems with this decision at all.”
Natalie started to ask him what she meant by that, but then Patrick stood a little straighter, one large hand coming to cup her cheek. His touch was absurdly warm, and she couldn't stop herself from leaning into his touch, no matter what it might mean for her peace of mind later on.
She had only a moment to figure out what he was doing before he kissed her, and despite his sleepiness, there was something sensual and sure about it. Before this kiss, Natalie might have thought that no man who was so grim and so very set on making sure that things were done a certain way would kiss with no passion at all. Now, though, she could see that that was absolutely not the case for Patrick.
The kiss was soft and lingering, asking for nothing at all. She had never thought that a simple kiss could be so frankly arousing, so very exciting and needy all at once, and for a long moment, she simply leaned into it. It was the kiss that Natalie had wanted all of her life and simply never known about it.
