by Zara Keane
Shane released her hand and took a sip from his glass. “What are you doing in Dublin? I thought you lived in Germany now.”
“Switzerland. And I’m back to visit my family.”
A frown line appeared on his forehead. “Is something wrong? You haven’t been back to Ireland in years. Why now?”
“Have you been keeping tabs on me?” she teased.
“Not exactly, but Kilpatrick isn’t big. Word gets around.”
“Better late than never. My dad isn’t getting any younger.”
He snorted with laughter. “Your father is fit as a fiddle. Big Mike pounds the bags at Dan’s gym. I’ve seen him in action.”
“Guess I take after him.” Ruthie flexed her arm in a subconscious movement that immediately drew his attention to her muscles, and then to her chest.
Shane’s gaze lingered on her breasts for a second before meeting her eyes. “You look nothing like Big Mike.”
Ruthie’s nipples hardened underneath the thin material of her top. God, how she wanted him. “I haven’t seen much of my father over the last few years,” she said quickly. “It’s good to spend time with him again.”
“How long will you be in Dublin?”
She dropped her voice to the husky tone she’d adopted for the pool players. “That depends. I might not leave.”
“Surely you’re not thinking of staying?” Shane frowned. “There’s nothing for you in Kilpatrick.”
“You know how to make a girl feel welcome,” she drawled.
Shane’s cheeks reddened. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I just think you’re better off out of Kilpatrick and away from Dublin altogether.”
“If it’s so bad here, why did you come back from Australia?”
He shrugged. “I guess I’m a home bird after all. I missed the craic and the Irish sense of humor. It’s hard to be the only foreigner in the bunch, you know?”
“I do know. It’s even more difficult when you move around a lot like I did.”
Shane jerked a thumb in the direction of the pool table, where Eejit One and Two, armed with their whiskey chasers, were engaged in a drunken game of pool. “Why were you fighting with Murph and Dec? Surely you’re not so hard up for money that you need to hustle those fools?”
If only he knew just how hard up I am… “Nah. I thought riling them up might be fun.”
Shane shook his head. “You can take the girl out of Dublin, but you’re still the same old Ruthie.”
Actually, a lot had changed over the years, but she wasn’t in a position to tell him exactly what. Perhaps she should feel more than the small prick of remorse that nagged at her conscience for using Shane in this way, but he’d had no qualms about humiliating her five years ago. Whatever she thought of him, she needed the money. If Kevin didn’t pay his debts, the Kowalski brothers would kill him.
She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. It was time to up the ante in this exchange. Ruthie placed her hand on his arm, a finger touching his wrist. “I’m glad I bumped into you, Shane. I was starting to think I’d be stuck with those eejits all evening.”
“Given that you were in the process of beating them up, I don’t think that would have been an issue.”
Was it her imagination, or had his voice deepened a notch when she’d touched him? His gaze met hers, and her pulse quickened. No way was she imagining the desire in his eyes. Another woman—one skilled in the art of flirtation—would use this to her advantage. What better way to get info out of a man than pillow talk?
Pillow talk… If she slept with Shane, he’d know her secret. She was excellent at faking bravado, but pretending to be sexually experienced? That went far beyond her area of expertise. She swallowed hard as a vision of the enormous debt her brother owed loomed. All she needed to do was dig for info on Shane and his family. Easy, right?
Ruthie skimmed a fingertip over his pulse and heard his sharp intake of breath. “Want to get out of here?” she whispered.
His eyes widened, then darkened with a desire that reflected her own. “Ruthie, you’re killing me.”
“Got someplace else to be?” She trailed a finger down the front of his shirt. “Or someone expecting you?”
“No,” he said hoarsely. “There’s no one expecting me tonight.”
“In that case…” Her finger paused just above his waist. “Your place or mine?”
4
Outside the pub, Shane hailed a taxi and rattled off the directions to Ruthie’s house on autopilot. After all these years, he still remembered the house number. Before he’d fallen out with Kevin, he’d regarded the Reynolds’ house as his second home, but it had been a long time since he’d visited 24 Clondale Terrace.
Beside him on the backseat, Ruthie sat stiff and nervous and so fucking beautiful that Shane wanted to rip her clothes off and have her here and now. He reached for her hand, marveling at the softness of her skin. Her hand trembled in his, the self-confidence she’d displayed in the pub no longer in evidence.
What the hell was he doing? Agreeing to go home with Ruthie was insanity. If Kevin caught them together, he’d go ballistic. And as for Big Mike… Lar and Dan would be seriously pissed if Shane lost them one of their most loyal clients.
Shane squeezed his eyes shut and bit back a curse. He wanted her so damn much, but he’d never have suggested spending the night with her had it not been for the whiskey he’d ordered in the pub, and the two shots of schnapps he’d had with Max back at his apartment before they’d both gone their separate ways for the night.
Just as he was on the verge of telling Ruthie he’d escort her to her door and then get the taxi to take him home, she moved position and one of her generous breasts brushed against his chest. He sucked in a breath. A sly smile curved her lips. She danced her fingers down his torso and playfully teased the hem of his shirt, and her touch sent a tingling awareness through his body. When he made eye contact, her sexy wink melted the last of his reserves. He leaned down and kissed her, softly at first, then growing more insistent. Yeah, sleeping with Ruthie was a lousy idea, but right now, he didn’t care.
By the time she broke the kiss, they were both breathing hard. She placed a finger on his lips. “We don’t want to scandalize the taxi driver.”
“I’m sure he’s seen worse.” Shane ran his fingers through her long hair, stretching a strand to its full length. Despite the darkness in the back of the taxi, the lights from outside gave him a good view of her hair color—a rich black that people paid a chunk of change to achieve. In Ruthie’s case, her raven tone was natural. “You grew your hair.”
“Yeah. I got tired of needing to get it cut all the time. With long hair, I can just tie it back and forget about it.” She touched it self-consciously. “I don’t usually wear it loose.”
“It suits you.” All the changes time had wrought on Ruthie’s body were favorable. She’d been a pretty teenager, if gawky, but she’d grown into a beautiful woman. Her breasts were bigger than average, but Shane would bet money that they were real. She was a few kilos heavier than when he’d last seen her, and she’d added the extra weight to all the right places. And if her muscular arms were any indication, the rest of her curvy body was fit and toned.
When the taxi pulled into Ruthie’s street, she leaned forward and addressed the driver. “First house on the left.” As the taxi drew to a halt, she shoved a twenty-euro note at Shane. “You paid for the drinks. I’ll take care of the fare.”
He cupped her chin and dropped a kiss on her gorgeous upturned nose. “No way. This is on me. If my cousin weren’t crashing at my place, we wouldn’t have needed a taxi.”
Before she could object, Shane slipped the twenty into the back pocket of her jeans. Feeling her tight backside turned his groin to granite. He bit back a groan. “You’re killing me, Ruthie,” he whispered into her ear. “I can’t get us out of this taxi fast enough.”
Her slow-burn smile warmed him from the inside out. “You deal with the fare while I deal with the house
alarm.” She drew a fingertip across his bearded jaw, turning his mouth into a desert.
With a parting wink, Ruthie slid out of the taxi and strode to her front door. Her gait was purposeful, and the subtle sway of her hips owed more to her feminine shape than to a deliberate attempt to draw attention to her body.
Shane paid the taxi driver with his own money and followed Ruthie into the house, closing the door behind him. They stood staring at one another for ten long seconds. Finally, Shane wrenched his gaze away from her and took in his surroundings. The walls were painted an off-white shade that gave the narrow house the impression of being wider than it was. The polished wood flooring had become popular in Ireland over the last decade, but it had been an unusual choice back when the Reynolds had decided to get rid of their carpets in deference to Kevin’s allergies.
“The place looks the very same.” The very same as it had the day he’d almost had sex with her, fought with Kevin, and exited their lives forever.
A twinkle of amusement appeared in her eyes. “Dad doesn’t go in for interior design. I doubt he notices what the house looks like.”
Shane closed the space between them and touched her arm. His breathing grew shallow, and his pants felt uncomfortably tight. “Are you sure about this, Ruthie? I can call a taxi and head home.”
For an instant, hesitation flickered across her face, but she soon masked it with a grin. “I wouldn’t have suggested you come home with me if I wasn’t sure. The question mark in this sentence is you, Mr. Delaney. Do you want to spend the night with me?”
A vision of Ruthie naked and riding him danced through his mind, making his balls throb with desire.
When she ran the tip of her tongue over her upper lip, Shane’s breath caught. He pulled her to him and lowered his mouth to hers, teasing her with a fluttery kiss. “I’m sure,” he whispered against her neck. “I’ve been sure since I set eyes on you punching Murph.”
Ruthie’s laugh tickled his neck. “You find women who get into punch-ups a turn-on?”
“Only ones who can throw punches as well as you do.” He smoothed a palm down her side. His heart rate accelerated when he skimmed the edge of her breast. Beneath the thin material of her top, her nipples were rock hard. He touched one pebbled orb and rolled it between his thumb and index finger, sending a jolt of raw need shooting through his body. “You’re so sexy, Ruthie. The only thing holding me back from taking you here and now in the hallway is the idea of being interrupted by your dad or brother.” He glanced around the hallway as if Big Mike or Kevin would charge through the walls at any moment.
“You’re the one who suggested coming back to my place, mister. I said we should go to yours.”
He gave a rueful smile. “Only because Max is crashing at mine for the weekend. I can’t guarantee we’d be alone. Can you?”
“It won’t be a problem,” she told him, running her hands over his back. “I told you, Dad is away on business and Kevin is at a friend’s. The only company we’ll have are the china dolls in my room.”
Shane threw his head back and laughed. “Do you still have those? And the doll’s house?”
“Oh, yes.” She tugged on his hand. “Want to come up to my room to check them out?”
“I’d much rather check you out.”
“You can do that as well.”
With a grin, he placed a hand on the small of her back and propelled her up the stairs. On the landing, Shane’s gaze lingered on the closed door of Kevin’s bedroom. He’d spent many afternoons in there during their teenage years, listening to music and reading comics.
Ruthie toyed with his belt buckle, yanking him back to the present. When she slipped a hand beneath the hem of his shirt, he groaned. “I saw the direction of your gaze,” she said in an amused voice. “Stop worrying and just go with the flow. Kevin rarely comes home before morning.”
Her sexy half smile made him ache in all the right places. “I can’t help it, kid. Overthinking is what I do when it comes to you. You bring out the protective side in me.”
She took his hand and placed it on her breast. “I haven’t been a kid for a long time, Shane.”
He gave her an appreciative squeeze. “I’ve noticed.”
“And I don’t need protecting. Besides…” She trailed a hand down his side, pausing to run a finger beneath the waistline of his jeans. “You want this just as much as I do. So what are we waiting for?”
What, indeed? He put his arms around her shoulders and claimed her mouth with his. Ruthie wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. The sensation of her lips under his sent him whirling back through time to the days when he’d had a crush on her but couldn’t act on it for fear of destroying his friendship with Kevin.
As abruptly as the kiss began, it ended. Shane trailed kisses across her cheek to her ear. “Want to take this into your room?”
“Hell yeah.” She took his hand and led the way.
When they entered the pastel paradise, Shane looked around in wonder. “It looks exactly like I remember it. Right down to the posters on the wall.”
“I left Ireland soon after you did. I guess Dad never bothered to repurpose my bedroom.”
He turned to her and smiled. “Of course he didn’t. You’re his only daughter. He’d want to keep the room ready for you in case you came back.”
They stood there for a moment, each taking in the details of her bedroom. The girly pink and pastels; the elaborate doll’s house and china doll collection; the antique dressing table. Kevin had once told Shane that Big Mike had redecorated all the kids’ rooms soon after his wife had died. He’d wanted to give his children the best. Kevin and Brian had loved their new bunk beds and Star Wars-themed rooms, but it had never occurred to Big Mike that the fussy and feminine décor he’d chosen for his daughter’s room didn’t suit Ruthie’s personality.
“Go on,” she said beside him. “Laugh. You know you want to.”
He turned to her and grinned. “The only part of this room that’s truly you is your choice in posters.”
“Yeah. Dad meant well, and I didn’t have the heart to object. He thought a girly room was just what I needed. He even gave me my mother’s dressing table.”
“Families, eh? There’s so much we keep in for fear of upsetting someone.” Shane drew her into his arms and dropped a kiss on her forehead. He inhaled the fresh scent of her perfume. Or was it shower gel? Ruthie didn’t strike him as the sort of woman who owned perfume.
“Dad loves me, but he’s inept around women and…” She trailed off, her cheeks turning a becoming shade of pink. “Sorry. I’m babbling. I didn’t expect to be nervous. I was fine a minute ago.”
“But now we’re in your room,” he added for her, “and right next to your bed. And we’re both remembering what almost happened in that bed the last time we were together.”
She nodded and her eyes met his.
Shane reached out and cupped her face in his hands. “I want you. Here and now and in every position.”
“I want you, too,” she whispered, her voice laced with an enticing mixture of hesitation and desire.
Shane eyed the dressing table, which was covered with graphic novels and other assorted odds and ends. “I can think of another way to use that dressing table. How about it, Miss Ruthie?”
Before she could react, he’d picked her up and plunked her on top of the dressing table. Ruthie laughed and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Now this is a position I could get used to,” he said and kissed her again.
The sensation of her mouth against his felt so good. He deepened the kiss, his tongue meeting hers in an erotic dance. He ran his fingers through her hair, marveling in its texture. She drew him closer, wanting and needing the intimacy with a ferocity that matched his own desire.
“Ruthie,” he groaned when they came up for air. “You’re killing me.”
“Shane, I—” She swallowed whatever she’d been about to say, then slipped off the dressing table a
nd stood before him.
Ruthie was tall for a woman, having inherited her father’s height, but her head barely skimmed Shane’s nose. He traced her face with his fingertips, soaking in the details: naturally dark lashes framed rich brown eyes; high cheekbones offset a narrow chin. Ruthie wasn’t conventionally beautiful, but Shane had always found her face fascinating.
This time, he kissed her with an intensity that turned his already hard body to cement. Within seconds, he’d tugged off her tank top and let her unbutton his shirt. Underneath her top, Ruthie wore a black sports bra. For a man who’d grown up around fancy lingerie and topless women, the sight of Ruthie’s practical bra was a major turn-on. He fingered the strap. “You’re so fucking sexy, Ruthie.”
“You’re joking, right? There’s nothing sexy about a sports bra.”
“I disagree. It’s simple, functional, and shapes your breasts nicely. What’s not to like?”
She eyed him skeptically, then smiled and reached for his belt. Shane groaned when she unbuckled it and undid the buttons of his jeans one by one. The instant she touched him through his underwear, he shuddered with anticipation.
“You need to get naked, Miss Ruthie.”
She laughed and kissed him again, teasing him with her tongue, making him so hot he thought he’d burst. He’d reached for her bra strap when the door to the bedroom burst open. They whipped around to see Kevin standing in the doorframe, wild-eyed and breathing heavily.
“Kev—” Ruthie began, then gasped. Shane caught sight of a glint of silver at the same moment she said, “Oh, God, Shane. He’s got a knife.”
5
Ruthie’s stomach lurched. What a moment for her brother to have one of his “turns.” “Put the knife down, Kevin. You don’t need it.”
“He’s in here,” Kevin said, his eyes darting wildly around the room. “He followed me home, but I was too smart for him. I hid downstairs when I heard him come into the house.”
