He had fallen though, big time.
He was in love with Donna O’Connor.
Mark laughed quietly, bent to stroke the three-legged dog Donna so obviously adored, and wondered, could she ever feel the same about him?
Especially now, after he’d been so busy thinking the world revolved around him and his problems. And what had Donna been doing while he had? Determinedly getting on with her life, trying to improve that of others. Of Karl and other kids like him.
Mark had loved her more then, as he’d watched her, empathising with his son as if it were second nature. He’d been in awe of her. Was in awe of her still.
He’d treated her badly. Underrated her. Been less than truthful with her. As good as flaunted another woman in her face.
Now, he needed to try to put it right, though where the hell to start? ‘What would you do, Sadie?’ He smiled, looking into the dog’s beguiling brown eyes. Okay, I’m not proud. His smile broadened as Donna came back into the lounge, Sadie immediately bounding over to jump up and greet her. If that’s what it took, he’d take the dog’s cue and beg.
‘Nothing too worrying up there, then?’ he asked, straightening up.
‘What?’ Donna looked at him, looking preoccupied. Probably wondering how she was going to tell him she didn’t want anything to do with him.
‘Donna…’ he said, stepping towards her.
‘Mark, I…’ Donna did likewise.
And… Jesus. There it was again, that jolt. It was physical. Did she feel it? Mark searched Donna’s eyes.
‘Sorry,’ they both said together.
‘I…’ They both tried again.
Donna dropped her gaze. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled.
Mark tilted her chin up and pressed a finger softly to her lips. ‘Never apologise, Donna,’ he reminded her, grazing her cheek with his thumb, ‘especially when the other person does have something to apologise for. And, trust me, I have plenty.’
Donna looked at him, confusion in her eyes — and hurt. Hurt he’d put there. Mark hated himself for that. Could he detect a glimmer of hope in there somewhere though? God, he hoped so.
‘So, if you have all night, I’ll start.’
‘As long as I don’t have to spend all night in my go-go gear.’ Donna smiled, and Mark fought an overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms there and then.
‘Do you want to go back upstairs?’ he offered.
Donna’s eyes shot wide.
Perfect. Mark sighed inside. Why didn’t he go for seriously crass and add ‘to slip into something more comfortable’ while he was at it?
‘I meant to, er, get…’ He trailed off, running his hand nervously through his hair. ‘I’m not doing this very well, am I?’
‘Um,’ Donna ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, ‘I’m not sure,’ she said, obviously nervous for reasons of her own, but if she did that again, Mark thought it might be kinder if she just shot him. He couldn’t do this, stand so close to her and not hold her.
‘Donna, I wanted to explain,’ he started again, ‘about Karl, about… other stuff. But, before I do, I wanted to say thank you — for being you. For being caring enough to do what you did today with Karl.’
Donna blushed, beautifully in Mark’s eyes. ‘I couldn’t have done it without Sadie and Starbuck. They were the real stars.’ She smiled, that same light in her eyes he’d noticed when she first talked about what mattered to her.
‘I know,’ he conceded, ‘but you were the inspiration. It was inspiring, Donna. Truly. You didn’t just get a kid to wear his shoes. You helped him take a step towards learning to cope with life. Do you know how amazing that is? How many traumas you’ve averted? How many tears? And I’m not just talking about Karl’s.’
Mark held her gaze.
Donna held his, gauging him, wondering about him, no doubt. ‘It’s what I want to do,’ she said. ‘Use my art. Work with children, though I wasn’t sure I was capable of rising to the task, to be honest.’
‘I gathered.’ Mark nodded, more appreciative than she could possibly realise. ‘And believe me, you are. You’re a special person, Donna O’Connor. No man in his right mind would ever want to lose you, and if I have, because I didn’t realise how special you are, because I didn’t tell you about Karl, because I thought I would lose you,’ Mark tugged in a breath, ‘then I probably don’t deserve you.’
‘Sorry?’ Donna blinked up at him, obviously confused.
‘I wish you’d stop doing that.’
‘Sorry.’ Donna glanced down.
Saints preserve us. ‘No, Donna,’ Mark tilted her chin up, again, ‘not that. Well, yes, that.’ He shrugged, confusing himself. ‘I meant would you please stop looking so damned distractingly beautiful. You see, I keep losing my train of thought.’
And my willpower to resist kissing you is all but depleted too, he didn’t add.
Donna laughed.
‘Beautiful,’ Mark repeated. ‘Your hair, your face, your body,’ he glanced down, despite his warning to himself that he really should not be doing that. ‘Outside and inside, you’re a beautiful person, Donna. Don’t let anyone ever tell you you’re not.’
Donna swallowed, tugged on a strand of her hair, which was sexily messy, and which Mark badly wanted to run his hands through; then glanced down again. ‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’
‘Not all of them, no,’ Mark assured her, with a half-hearted smile.
‘Oh?’ She said, looking back up.
Mark lost the smile. That oh? was loaded. She was looking for answers to questions. And he knew he’d better have the right answers.
He took a deep breath. She probably wouldn’t believe him. Michelle, after all, was so hands all over him, Donna might as well have walked in on them half-naked in his bedroom.
‘The girl you saw with me with, Michelle… She’s just a friend, Donna. An intimate one once, but not anymore,’ Mark tried to explain, the only way he could without adding insult to injury and lying. ‘And, yes, we might have been intimate the other night, but we weren’t, Donna, I promise. I would never even have gone out with Michelle if I’d thought there was the remotest chance, you and I…’
Mark stopped, noting the look on Donna’s face, which was a mixture of mistrust and more hurt.
Not surprisingly. Whichever way he said it, the fact that he could go out with an ex-intimate friend at the drop of a hat with a view to picking up the intimacy pretty much said it all, he supposed.
‘So,’ Donna said, at length, ‘not your sister then?’
Mark sighed inside. What did he expect? She wasn’t going to say, no problem, let’s pick up where we left off. She was more likely to tell him to piss off, which she had every right to.
‘No, not my sister.’ He glanced down.
‘But Jody-kiss-kiss and silken-haired Sally are, presumably,’ Donna went on, ‘on the assumption you don’t have an actual harem?’
Mark snapped his head up. ‘Who and who and… What?’
‘Jody-kiss-kiss, the one who comes with her toothbrush, no doubt wears dental floss in bed, and has an extremely dexterous thumb!’
Mark squinted at her, concerned. ‘Donna, have you gone nuts?’
‘No,’ Donna assured him sweetly, ‘but I may claim insanity if you lie to me, Mark Evans! Who is she?’
Donna eyed him narrowly.
Mark shook his head. ‘Jody kiss… Jody!’ The texts, of course. Mark looked back to Donna, hugely relieved.
‘Yes, Jody-kiss-Jody, so flipping low down on your list, you can’t even remember her. God, the poor, poor girl.’ Donna looked mortified.
Mark looked at Donna, really worried now. ‘Donna, Jody’s…’
‘I don’t know how you can live with yourself.’ She dragged derisory eyes over him. ‘I certainly wouldn’t want to live with you.’
‘Donna, will you please…’
‘And she’s so young. She’s no more than a mere baby her…’
‘Donna, will you please listen!�
�� Mark raised his voice.
Donna blinked, then stepped swiftly back.
‘Christ. I’m sorry.’ Mark realised his mistake. ‘Jody is my carer, Donna,’ he said, more quietly. ‘Karl’s carer, that is. I really have no idea why you’re so upset.’
Donna stared at him, looking more confused than enlightened.
Mark ploughed on. ‘And Sally, if that’s who you’re referring to, is Starbuck’s trainer. You must realise that.’
‘Well, yes,’ Donna conceded, with a shrug, ‘I do now, no thanks to you.’ She gave him an unimpressed look. ‘But, whilst I’m prepared to accept that silken-Sally might not be an ‘intimate friend’, I’m struggling with Jody-kiss-kiss, who comes to stay over bringing a toothbrush and is apparently having your baby.’
‘What!?’ Mark almost fell over. He stared at Donna, shocked, raked his hand through his hair, smiled, then laughed out loud.
Donna folded her arms. ‘I’m glad you think the poor girl’s predicament is so amusing.’ She shot him an ultra-scathing glance this time. ‘Couldn’t even try to look pleased, could you? Honestly, men like you ought to be locked up for women’s safety.’
Mark laughed harder.
‘You ought to lock yourself up.’
‘Donna,’ he managed in between hoots, ‘it’s not mine.’
Donna’s mouth dropped open. ‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this.’
‘The baby’s not mine, Donna, I swear.’ Mark tried to keep his face straight. ‘I doubt Jody’s husband would be very pleased if it was.’
‘She’s married?’ Donna studied him, the bluster blowing out of her sails.
‘Yes.’ Mark took his life in his hands and walked over to her. ‘To a very nice bloke, who’s no doubt ecstatic he’s about to become a dad. I, on other hand, am already a dad, Donna; to an autistic child, who’s grown used to having Jody around.
‘She’s Karl’s carer, Donna. Of course, I’m pleased for her, but the fact remains, I’m going to have to find a new carer. Someone who cares, you know? And that is going to be hard.’
‘Oh,’ said Donna, her fury visibly dissipating.
Mark wrapped an arm around her. ‘So I take it you were the reason Agnes came flying out of the park like a bat out of hell to wallop me with her ball bag?’
‘Um…’ Donna looked a bit sheepish.
‘I take it you two had a little chat,’ Mark enquired interestedly, ‘me being the subject of?’
‘Yes, but I wasn’t running you down,’ Donna assured him, looking thoroughly ashamed, which made Mark smile all over again. He doubted she could run anyone down.
‘Just girl-talk, you know. The sort one doesn’t chat to one’s mum about for fear she’ll garrotte the subject. It was when we overheard Jody telling you about the baby that Agnes… Wait a minute?’ Donna arched a curious eyebrow. ‘I didn’t know you knew Agnes.’
‘Ah, I meant to tell you about that.’ Mark nodded, looking uncomfortable. ‘I do. We’re, er, quite intimate friends, actually. I thought Agnes might have, you know, been jealous when you…’
‘Ooh!’ Donna narrowed her eyes.
‘Uh, uh.’ Mark raised his hands defensively. ‘Assaulting an officer of the law is a criminal offence, Mrs O’Connor. I may have no choice but to arrest you.’
‘Humph.’ Donna’s mouth twitched into a smile.
‘And lock you up… with me, in a very small cell.’ Mark took a breath, took a chance and pulled her into his arms. ‘In which case, we may be forced to become intimate friends. Extremely intimate.’ He tentatively sought her mouth, irresistibly drawn to brush her sweet lips with his.
‘I think that might be quite, um, cosy,’ Donna said breathily, her gaze holding his, soft and inviting.
Mark searched her face, his eyes drinking in the dreamy warmth in hers. This kind, vulnerable, strong woman had bonded with his son, bonded with his very soul. He hadn’t thought it was possible.
He lowered his mouth to kiss her, to taste her. He wanted to hold her, to touch and taste every inch of her.
Donna didn’t pull away, even when their kiss grew deeper, his hand tracing her back, seeking the soft curve of her hip.
Mark took that as a good sign.
Pausing, out of necessity of breathing, he brushed her hair gently from her neck. Breathed deep the fragrance she wore: feminine and sweet, the scent of the woman he now knew, without question, he adored.
Still Donna hadn’t pulled away.
Mark’s heart hammered so loud in his chest, he swore she could hear it. He grazed her cheek with his, rode both hands nervously up her thighs.
God, he wanted her.
Wanted to make sweet love to her.
Here.
Right now.
Mark’s pulse quickened as Donna’s hands found their way under his shirt, nails grazing his back, her lips seeking his, her delicate tongue darting into his mouth.
God, that felt good. And then…
Donna eased back.
Mark’s heart stopped.
She glanced down.
Mark eased her chin back up. ‘Donna?’ He needed her to know, if she said not yet, he’d be fine with it. Desperate, but fine.
Donna chewed on her lip. ‘I think this is the bit where the waves lap metaphorically against the shore,’ she said, her eyes wide, uncertain, but still inviting.
Mark smiled. ‘Whilst keeping one foot on the floor?’
‘But of course.’ Donna fluttered her eyelashes. ‘Even whilst being pursued by a herd of majestic wildebeest, one keeps one’s foot…’
Mark kissed her, urgently.
Donna reciprocated, then almost bit off his tongue — as something outside landed not so majestically on the milk bottles.
Chapter Eighteen
‘Bloody hell!’ Mark pulled back. ‘What in God’s name was that?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Donna held tight to him.
‘Miaow,’ came a very convincing cry from outside.
Thank you, Lord. Donna offered up a prayer of gratitude. It was obviously Simon, who must have dropped from the bedroom window to the porch roof, to the milk bottles and was, thankfully, still in one piece.
‘Cats.’ She nodded earnestly, and yanked Mark’s face back to hers. ‘Next door’s Tom on the prowl,’ she muttered, through lips busy with his, her fingers doing a little bit of walking under his shirt. Mmm, but he was toned.
Ooh, how she’d love to get an eyeful as well as a handful. To make love with him. Here and now. Donna felt herself flush scarlet, even as he kissed her, his lovely tongue doing despicable things to her. She couldn’t believe it. Where were her inhibitions, her button-up brushed cotton jim-jams?
She was ready to get naked with him, go-go boots a go-go, because he’d made her feel quite beautiful, even if she wasn’t, quite.
Alas, inhibitions aside, she couldn’t. Not in the lounge. She was a responsible mother, not a good-time girl, even if her dress did indicate otherwise.
Should she take him upstairs? Could she risk it, with Matt due home?
Oh, Lord, what if he suggested it. Her eyes sprang open. Mark’s were closed. Lovely dark eyelashes. Mmm, but she could. God, no she couldn’t.
‘Damn,’ Mark cursed suddenly, reaching for his beeping mobile. ‘That’ll be Jody. I promised to be back, but some bad person insisted on keeping me out late.’
He glanced at Donna, the lovely twinkle dancing in his eyes. That was better. Donna’s heart fluttered in her chest, like magical little butterfly’s wings. Twinkly smiles suited him better than tears, though who wouldn’t love a man who cried them — for all the right reasons?
‘Sorry,’ Mark mumbled, grazing her lips again with his, her cheek, her ear.
‘For what?’ Donna panted, dangerously close now to ravaging him.
‘Everything.’
Donna looked deep into his pretty blue eyes. ‘So am I,’ she said, knowing she’d been hasty and judgemental, factoring out that Mark was human, because she’d lived with someon
e who’d factored out normal human emotion. ‘I shouldn’t have jumped to…’
Mark silenced her with his lips. ‘I think you probably should have. Can’t we just have another go?’ he asked softly. ‘Try and get it right this time?’
Donna fiddled idly with one of his shirt buttons, knowing things had moved on, and wondering still whether she could live up to what was expected of a person in a relationship.
‘No complications,’ Mark suggested. ‘No demands on each other we’re not ready to handle. Just take it one day at a time. What do you think?’
Donna relaxed, marvelling at how she did relax in his company, even dressed like a call girl. ‘I think it sounds like a plan.’
‘Good.’ Mark closed his eyes, obviously relieved. ‘Now, what does a man have to do to get a girl to smile around here?’
Fool. She’d been smiling all over, outside and inside. ‘You’d be surprised.’ Donna laughed, then smothered his gorgeous mouth with hers.
‘Hell.’ Mark groaned as mobile beeped again. ‘I really have to go,’ he muffled, Donna’s lips reluctant to leave his. ‘I’ll call you, tomorrow, if that’s okay?’
‘You’d better had,’ Donna said with a mock scowl, following him as he walked to the hall, tucking in his assaulted shirt as he went.
‘Bye.’ He brushed her lips with a last kiss outside the front door, then ran to his car.
Donna waited until he’d started the engine, waving as he pulled off.
Then waited again when he stopped.
Mark wound the window down. ‘I forgot to say,’ he shouted, ‘I adore you, Donna O’Connor. Just thought you should know.’
****
Donna had barely reached the top of the stairs when the doorbell rang.
She about-faced on the landing and dashed back down, a gloopy smile all over her face.
‘Only me.’ Simon beamed as she opened the door.
Oh, no! Donna almost choked, this time on nothing but fresh air. ‘Simon, what are you doing?’ She glanced worriedly past him. ‘Mark has only just left.’
‘I know, but I can’t go home in this, can I?’ Simon indicated his uniformed state of dress. ‘My cap and coat are upstairs, with my keys in the pocket.’
Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. Page 21
