Defensive Heart: The Donnolleys, Book 2

by Dorothy F. Shaw

Sonja stripped off her clothes and padded to her bed. Sliding between the sheets, she turned and faced Thomas. He reached for her like always and smoothed his hand down her side to her hip. Closing her eyes, Sonja sought James’s face in her mind. He pressed his lips to her shoulder before kissing down to her breast. She moaned when his mouth found her nipple. Thomas might have her body tonight, but in her mind, it was James she was giving it to.

  It was James she wanted to give everything to.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning Jimmy made his way uptown in a borrowed minivan to deliver his client’s commissioned piece of art. After dropping off the canvas, he turned up the radio and Stone Sour’s “Made of Scars” blared through the speakers.

  I want you. I want all those things you mentioned. And more. Sonja was front and center on his mind and had been all morning. He was still stunned she’d finally admitted she wanted him. He’d been pushing her, daring her. But he hadn’t actually thought she’d say it. It could’ve been the alcohol talking, he supposed, but in his opinion, a drunken man—or in this case a drunken woman—told no lies.

  He’d debated calling her back, but figured it was better to let her think about what she said, and then see what she did next. Jimmy rolled his eyes. If anyone had told him six weeks ago he’d be in his bed on a Friday night, half drunk and alone, cuddling only with his cat, he’d have called them a moron. Things had definitely changed.

  From the night he met Sonja, he hadn’t been interested in anyone else. Was he really ready to settle down in an official relationship again? Why the hell am I even thinking that far ahead? Maybe she didn’t even want a relationship. He liked her, and for sure wanted to know more about her. And for fuck’s sake he wanted to know what made her smile. She didn’t smile often. Always so serious. Too serious, and Jimmy wanted to make her laugh the way he’d done in Vegas.

  Letting out a frustrated sigh, he ran his hand over his chin. Irish or not, the Donnellys weren’t known for their patience. The need to have what he wanted flowed through him like a tidal wave. This whole wooing a woman thing was not easy. He should consider calling his father. Dad knew a thing or two about courting a woman and had managed to hold on to the same one for four decades.

  Pulling up in front of his friend’s apartment to return the van, he stepped out onto the street and his phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Mr. Donnelly. This is Janice from Collier Galleries. Do you have a moment?”

  Jimmy moved the phone to his other ear and shut the driver’s door of the van. “Of course. What can I do for you?”

  “Just a courtesy reminder regarding the charity auction Friday night. Have all your pieces you’re donating been delivered? We’re looking to have everything tagged and catalogued by Tuesday the latest.”

  “This Friday? Thanks for calling. I did almost forget. You know how artists are.” He chuckled.

  “Yes, hence the courtesy call. The pieces, Mr. Donnelly, are they all here?”

  The receptionist, or whatever she was, was all business. Jimmy snorted and leaned against the van. She reminded him of Sonja. “Right. No, not all of them. I think there are two on-site already. There’s one more I’ll grab from my studio and bring over to you Monday.”

  “Thank you. I’ll mark the sheet. Mr. Collier asked to remind everyone it’s a black tie event, so please dress accordingly.”

  “No Chuck Taylors?”

  “No, Mr. Donnelly, although it’s certainly your funeral if you choose to invoke Mr. Collier’s wrath.”

  “Why, Janice, that was almost a joke.” He smiled, tossing the van keys in the air and catching them on their way down.

  “Yes. I fear you might be right. Maybe I should get a bite to eat. Take a break.”

  “Ohh, another! Janice, killing me here. Hey, smile, would ya? It’s all gonna be great. See you Monday.”

  She laughed. “Thanks.”

  Jimmy disconnected the call and shook his head. Black tie. Good thing he was a grown-up artist and actually had a monkey suit hanging in his closet. A damn expensive one too. Now for the date. Sonja was front and center in his mind and trailing quickly behind her was Andy. Except, shit, he’d already asked Andy to go with him before he’d gone to Los Angeles. Thinking quickly, Jimmy sent her a text.

  Jimmy: Meet for lunch?

  Andy: Hell yes. Where?

  Jimmy: Union Square. We’ll find something easy.

  Andy: Sounds good. See you in 30?

  Jimmy: Yup.

  When he arrived, Jimmy scoped out a place for them in the corner of a burger joint. After shooting a quick text to Andy to let her know where to meet him, he sipped his soda and thumbed through the menu.

  Andy slid in the opposite seat. “Hey.”

  “Hi there, gorgeous. You got here fast.” Jimmy stood and gave Andy a peck on the lips. “You’re looking chipper. Not too hungover this morning?”

  “Shit. You kidding me? I just got up when you texted.” She laughed. “I will never know how you toss back that shit-ass Jäger like you do and not puke your guts up all night.” She pulled the menu in front of her.

  “Nice. I’m really hungry now.” He scrunched up his face and then raised the menu in front of his mouth and nose. “You’re gross.”

  Andy rolled her eyes. “My best friends are guys. What do you expect? Next I’ll grab my crotch. It’ll be a real bonding moment.”

  Jimmy widened his eyes and dropped the menu on to the table. “Ooh, sexay gurrl. Let’s bond.”

  “Honey, we bonded a long time ago.” She snorted. “I’m having two hot dogs and a Mountain Dew.” She raised her hand. “Save the crude jokes. I’m not awake enough yet.”

  “Wasn’t saying a word.” Jimmy sipped his soda. “Was Steph pissed you got home so late?”

  “Nah, it’s all good.”

  “Good.” Jimmy nodded and went back to the menu. Turkey club and fries today would hit the spot.

  The waiter came over and took their order. Then came back pretty quick with Andy’s drink. Jimmy needed to figure out how to ask her about the auction. Damn, he hoped she wasn’t going to be pissed. He looked around the small restaurant at the other patrons. No one remarkable caught his attention. Probably because his attention was everywhere but in the present moment.

  “All right spill it.”

  Jimmy returned his attention to Andy. “Huh?”

  “You’re bouncing your leg like you’re about to run a damn marathon and looking all over the place in a daze. Tell me about the girl.” She sipped her soda.

  “Why do you think there’s a girl?”

  “It’s more obvious than my ass. Now, spill.”

  “You have a fantastic ass.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Fine. There is a female. I met her in Vegas when Ry and I went for a quick overnight.” He paused as their food was delivered. Ketchup passed back and forth and first bites taken.

  “Go on,” Andy said around a mouthful of hot dog.

  Jimmy bit into a fry. “She’s different. Not my norm.”

  “Describe, please. Jesus, it’s like pulling teeth to get info out of you.”

  “I’m eating. Damn, girl, a little patience?” He laughed. “She’s a criminal defense attorney. Has money. Oh, and she’s forty-one.” He bit into his sandwich.

  Andy almost choked on her drink. “She’s forty-fucking-one? Jesus Christ, Jimmy.”

  “I know what you’re thinking.” He dipped a fry in his ketchup. “I’ve already gone through it all in my head. So don’t bother.”

  Andy waved her hands in front of her. “Okay, okay. She’s forty-one. What else?”

  “She’s got a daughter. Age fifteen.”

  “The plot thickens. Husband?”

  He wiped his hands on his napkin. “Hell no. She’s divorced.”

  “Soooo…what’s the issue?”


  “I like her. I haven’t liked anyone in years. Also…we fight.” He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed. “And we’re not actually dating yet.”

  Andy laughed and shook her head. “Wait, back up. You fight? What the hell do you mean you fight?”

  “It’s crazy. I don’t know what it is exactly. We rile each other up. One minute I’m all annoyed and the next I want to rip her clothes off.” He took a gulp of his soda.

  “Foreplay.” She nodded her head to the side. “That’s some fucked-up shit, Jimmy.”

  “Yes! That’s exactly what I told her too.” He ran his hand over his mouth. “It is kinda fucked up, yeah, but there’s a fire in her, you know? I guess I dig lighting it. It shows up when we bicker. But it’s like, unless we’re fighting, she won’t give me the damn time of day.”

  “You got it bad. I’ve never seen you hung up on anyone before. You’ve been single the whole time I’ve known you.”

  “I don’t have it bad.” He frowned and thought about what she’d said for a moment. “I dunno, maybe you’re right. Maybe I do.”

  “What do you mean you’re not actually dating? You haven’t taken her on a date yet?”

  “No. But that brings me to my next subject.” He smiled.

  “I’m not done talking about this one. And I sooo don’t like that look in your eyes.” Andy straightened in her seat. “Lay it on me, Donnelly.”

  Jimmy raised a brow and chuckled.

  She laughed. “Pig.”

  “Hey, I’m a guy. You shouldn’t expect so much. Besides, you know I’m kidding. You’re like a damn sister to me; even though I already have a fuckton of them.”

  “Aww, I love you too.” She reached across the table and patted his hand. “Now tell me.”

  “Remember I asked you to come with me to that charity auction?”

  “Yeah, I got a dress. Why?”

  Jimmy shrugged and tried to look innocent. “Well…”

  “Oh, you’re fucking kidding me, right? I got a damn dress!”

  “I’ll pay for the dress. I’m sorry, but Andy, this is something she’ll probably agree to go with me to. Please?”

  Andy let out a long and loud sigh. Looked away and then back at him. And rolled her eyes. “Fine. But she better say yes. You’re a great guy, you know? Even though you like to pretend you’re not. And yeah, you’re totally paying me for the dress.”

  “You’re an angel.” Jimmy held his glass of soda up for a toast.

  Andy raised hers in agreement and nodded. “That I am. And I’m glad you finally recognize it.”

  “Hey, I’d take you off the market if you weren’t already involved. And, you know, a lesbian.”

  “Liar.” She raised a brow. “You’d take me home, fuck me, say you’re gonna call and then never bother. Same thing you’ve done to half the women in the Village.”

  “Half? Oh, come on. Maybe one quarter, but definitely not half.” He grinned at her over the top of his glass. “She’ll say yes. I hope.”

  “Yeah, you got it bad. Keep me posted, playboy.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sonja glanced at her ringing cell on her desk only to see it was another call from Thomas. He’d called at least four times since nine a.m., and this was the fifth. The man wouldn’t quit. Sonja shuddered, recalling waking up that morning, naked, with Thomas curled around her. Shame had coated her body like a second skin and she’d almost vomited while she washed the remnants of her stupidity away in the shower. Then she’d escaped to her office at the law firm before he woke up.

  When she’d first divorced him, they’d been intimate a handful of times. After a while she rebuffed his advances, insisting he sleep in the guest room. He refused, of course, and the argument that ensued over the matter woke Casey, making everything worse. Thomas insisted it was better for Casey if they kept up appearances. Reluctantly, Sonja agreed and the sex between them continued on and off. That lasted several years, whether to sate her own sexual needs or because it made him easier to deal with, it didn’t really matter. At the heart of it, Thomas wanted her to take him back.

  Sonja would never take him back.

  Eventually, the whole arrangement sickened her, and she flat out refused him. She might not have been able to get him out of her bed, but she sure as hell could keep him from between her legs.

  Last night had been different, or so she’d told herself. Last night, she’d been the aggressor, taking what she wanted and using Thomas. Last night, she’d been willing and wanton and warm. Absolutely convinced that having sex with her ex was justified because it was on her terms, but she was wrong. So very wrong.

  All because she’d been too hot over James to simply masturbate and get over it.

  How stupid.

  Sonja leaned back in her leather desk chair, still disgusted with herself and well aware she was hiding out like a coward. But there was no fight left within her to deal with Thomas today—or any day really. Her head pounded and she pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. Part hangover, part stress. The light from the sizable windows of her corner office was a bit more than she could handle at the moment too. Sonja blew out a breath and went in search of another cup of coffee.

  Traveling the corridor to the firm’s break room, she glanced at the bland traditional art hanging on the walls. She’d started noticing the artwork decorating walls wherever she was now. It brought James front and center in her mind, making it difficult not to think of him on a constant basis.

  Sonja filled her cup from the Keurig station on the counter. She should’ve gotten in a cab and gone to him last night. It would have been better to deal with him rather than Thomas and now her self-loathing. A lot more pleasurable too.

  Sonja grabbed a muffin from the refrigerator and made her way down the gray, carpeted hall back to her office. Maybe she should redecorate. Everything looked so drab now. Odd, because it never had before, or maybe she hadn’t really paid attention. Passing over the threshold to her office, she heard her phone ringing. Again. She glanced at it when she reached her desk, checking the caller ID.

  James. Her heart thudded in her ears. The phone stopped ringing, and she took her seat and stared at the device. The tone indicating a voicemail sounded. Sonja scooped up the cell and listened.

  Hey, Sonja. It’s James. Can you give me a call back? I have something I need to ask you. Talk soon. Yeah?

  Sonja deleted the message and set her phone down. She glanced at the case file open on her desk, and then her laptop screen, then back to the cell. Should she call him back? What could he possibly need to ask her? With a death grip on the handle of her coffee mug, she sipped the creamy liquid.

  Nervous energy vibrated in her limbs, forcing Sonja to her feet to pace. Around the back of the burgundy leather sofa, past the cherry-wood credenza and back around her desk. Another round. Then another. She paused in front of one of the windows—a perfect view of the Hudson River from there. Giving in, she moved back to her desk.

  Curiosity was a bitch, wasn’t it?

  “I’ll call and only stay on long enough for him to say what he needs to say.” She blew out a breath and took a seat. Pulling up her missed calls she selected his number and swallowed hard to drive the knot back down her throat. One ring. Two. Three…

  “Sonja-the-lawyer.”

  “Must you insist on calling me that?”

  “What? I think it’s cute and we don’t know each other well enough for me to start with the honeys, sweeties and dears, right?”

  She laughed and then cut herself off. Keep it professional. “I suppose you have a point. Yes.”

  “I didn’t think you’d call me back. I’m glad you did.”

  The smile in his words was obvious and her belly tingled. Sonja shook her head and moved to the sofa. “I needed a break from work. What did you nee
d to ask me?”

  “Wait, you’re working? Why are you working? It’s Saturday, Sonja.”

  “Yes, James. It’s Saturday, and I have to work. Anyway, what did you need?”

  “You work too much.” He sighed. “You’re curious, aren’t you? I can hear it in your voice.”

  She paused, trying and failing to stay focused on the “keep it professional” plan. “I’m a little curious. Yes.”

  “Whoa, I’m winning all sorts of rounds with you. You okay? No. I mean really?”

  No. I slept with my ex last night instead of you and I hate myself for it. I’m definitely not okay. “Knock it off. I’m fine. Now what did you—wait, what do you mean winning rounds? You’ve not won anything.” God, he made her crazy.

  He laughed. “All right. You’re right. Anyway, I have a thing this Friday night and I’d like to know if you’d attend with me.”

  “No.” The word was out before she’d even thought about it.

  “No? That’s it? You don’t even want to know what it is? Just, no?”

  She’d already made her decision. She wasn’t going to relent now. “No is a complete sentence, James.”

  He went quiet but she could hear him breathing. His soft breaths penetrated so much more than her ears. She knew what that breath felt like on her skin, on her neck. The tingle was back in her tummy and Sonja crossed and uncrossed her legs.

  “Are you always going to tell me no?” His tone was low and deliberate.

  She shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you tell everyone no, or is it just me?”

  His question gave her pause. Was it only him she said no to? She stood and paced, biting on her thumbnail. There were two men in her life she rarely, if ever, said no to: her father and Thomas. Sonja wanted to tell them no all the time. Telling her father no wasn’t something she ever did. Sonja learned at a very early age that accepting whatever her father wanted for her or from her was better than fighting him. She wouldn’t dare for fear of his wrath. He’d been dead for four years now, but she could still hear his voice in her mind like he was haunting her from the grave. Thomas was another issue for her. She could say no or defy her ex-husband, and had, but it was infrequent, and the consequences to her daughter dimmed the feeling of satisfaction.