Counterfeit Kisses

by Cora York

  I drew back the curtains and unlatched the lock. A small mezzanine overlooked the neglected, snow-covered street. I slid the door open and stepped into the cold. Swollen clouds loomed over the town and promised a heavy snowfall. In a few hours, no one would get in or out of the airports. Both Dublin and Belfast would shut their doors to incoming and outgoing flights. Even if I decided to go back to New York, my chances of getting there were slim and none.

  The five-hour time difference meant it was a few minutes past 8 a.m. in New York, and Brody was probably wondering why I hadn’t stopped by the construction site on my way to the office for my usual cup of coffee and catch up.

  I pulled my cell from the depths of my coat pocket and dialed Brody’s number. My brother would accuse me of losing my ever-loving mind, and maybe I had.

  “The invisible man reappears.” Brody’s voice crackled over the miles. “Where are you, you muppet?”

  “Home.”

  “Home, home? As in the place we grew up home?”

  “A few miles from there.”

  “Ah, for feck’s sake. Does Ma know?”

  “She’ll know when I show up on Christmas Eve as planned.” I slid my shoes over the snow and built a snowball between my feet.

  “She’ll throw a fit when she finds out you’re in the same country as her and haven’t called. She might even know you’re already there. She’s weird like that.”

  “She won’t know a thing if you don’t tell her.”

  “Why’d you fly in early?”

  “The wedding.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re still out to avenge the Devlin name?”

  I sighed. Brody’s answer to everything was to take the piss. “Let me handle this. It’s not like I’m needed in the office. I have every confidence in my staff not to run the business into the ground.”

  “Let it go. You’re not a wedding planner. It’s like me moving from building hotels to building playsets.”

  I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let it go. Not yet. Tessa had weaseled her way into my consciousness, and I wanted to discover everything I could about her. “I’m staying for a few more days. See what happens.” I kicked the snowball between my feet, sending a mini avalanche to the pavement below.

  “You’re a fecking eejit.”

  “On that professional and grown-up note, I’m hanging up.” I hit the end call button.

  I wished my brother wasn’t so laid back about everything and wished he understood my need to stay on top. And if I wanted to stay on top, I had to expand my business.

  There was one other person I needed to talk to, my cousin Niall. If there was any dirt on Tessa, he was the man who’d find it.

  On the third ring, Niall picked up. “How’s it going, stranger?”

  “Can’t complain,” I replied.

  After we’d caught up and promised to meet for a beer, Niall asked, “So what’s the real reason for this phone call?”

  I chuckled. “You’re a detective for a reason. Can you do me a favor?”

  “If I can, I will.”

  “Heard anything about a woman called Tessa Maken?”

  “Doesn’t ring any bells. I’m not in my office, but I’ll have a look tomorrow. Anything in particular you want to know?”

  “Nah. I’ve been told a few things and want to find out if the information’s true.”

  “No bother,” Niall said. “I’ll find out what I can and give you a bell.”

  Part of me hoped Niall had a file on her a mile long, but a bigger part of me hoped she was as clean as the freshly fallen snow.

  ****

  I needed an ice-cold beer. Fast. Snowmageddon meant the journey back to the castle took four tense hours. The heater in Tessa’s car spluttered and gave up the ghost twenty minutes in, and every radio station played Last Christmas on an endless loop. There was only so much Wham! a man could take.

  I headed straight to the kitchen hidden in the bowels of the castle. The space was nothing like the rest of the building. Old blended with new and whoever had designed the layout had a deep passion for food.

  Dark woods and natural stone contrasted with stainless steel appliances, and above me, a beamed ceiling curved slightly with gleaming copper pots and pans hanging from a rack. My mother would happily move in here and never leave.

  Brendan stood by a thick butcher’s block dicing carrots and onions with quick, confident movements. The radio played more nerve-damaging Christmas music, but I shut it out and warmed my hands by a roaring fire large enough to roast a pig.

  “You haven’t lost any of your skills.” I nodded toward Brendan’s fast-moving fingers.

  “And what do you know about my skills?” Brendan asked, not taking his eyes from the curved blade.

  “Everyone around here knows you’re one of Ireland’s best chefs.”

  Brendan nodded and exhaled slowly. “That was before my wife passed away. God rest her soul.” He stopped chopping and blessed himself. “It’s been a while. Thirteen years now. She had big plans for this place, but life got in the way and… well, plans change.” He continued with his work, not once losing his hypnotic rhythm.

  “Sorry for your loss.” I watched in silence as he scooped up the diced vegetables with the sharp edge of his knife.

  “Thanks,” he said, dumping the vegetables into a copper pot. “Like I said, it was a while ago.”

  “You were never tempted to sell the place?”

  “I won’t lie,” Brendan said. “I’ve had offers, and I got close once, but I couldn’t bear to part with it. It’s not much, but it’s home.” He gave a small smile. “Tessa badgered me daily for weeks until I agreed to open the doors. She practically camped on the doorstep. Convinced me the place could be great again.” He shrugged. “Maybe it could, but everything’s in a terrible state.” Brendan threw the last of the vegetables into the pot and covered it with a lid. “She’s…” He hesitated as if searching for the right words. “Tessa’s a great girl. I wouldn’t want to see her hurt.”

  “Are you warning me off?” I raised an eyebrow. The older man’s fatherly concern for Tessa shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.

  Brendan chuckled. “I might be getting on, but I’m not blind. She wasn’t exactly over the moon to see you. God knows relationships are hard. There were times when living with my Mrs. was like living on a rollercoaster. Some months we were climbing to the top. Some months we were hurtling to the bottom with a few loops in between.” He gave a wistful smile. “Our fights would shake the windows.” A kettle on the gas stovetop whistled, and Brendan wiped his hands on a red dishcloth thrown over his shoulder. “Tea? Coffee?”

  “I’ll have a beer if there’s one going.”

  “There’s none till the delivery tomorrow. Only wine or whiskey for now.”

  “An Irish coffee would hit the spot.”

  “A man after my own heart.” Brendan went to the cupboard behind him and selected two flared glasses with handles. “The shock on Tessa’s face when she saw you told me something wasn’t right between the two of you.” He filled the glasses with boiling water before emptying them in the sink.

  In mock horror, I clasped a hand to my chest. “I’m hurt by whatever you’re accusing me of. What are you accusing me of?”

  “A lover’s tiff?” He poured steaming coffee into the heated glasses. “Whatever’s going on between you, you’d better not hurt her.” Next, he spooned in sugar, and from beneath the butcher’s block, produced a half-empty bottle of aged Irish whiskey. “I don’t know her all that well, but I know she’s a great girl who works hard. It’d break her heart if anything went wrong this week.”

  “I promise I won’t break her heart.” I wasn’t yet convinced that she had a heart to break. My mouth watered at the anticipation of tasting the drink Brendan was preparing. The older man splashed more than one shot of whiskey into each glass before topping both off with a collar of thick cream. He pushed the glass toward me.

  “Tessa and I are madly in love,” I sai
d, picking up the glass. “It’s fated. Painted in the stars. Written on the cards. A whirlwind romance. We’re soul mates.” I took a sip of the silky drink, savoring the bite of the alcohol before swallowing. “By God, Brendan, that’s perfect.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Brendan sipped from his glass. “I’m going to say this, and I’m going to say no more. Watch your step where Tessa’s concerned. There’s many a secret place in this castle to hide a body.”

  “Hello?” Tessa called from the staircase concealed by the stone-roughened walls.

  “Down here.” Brendan gave me a quick nod that said I’d been warned.

  Tessa appeared with Max tucked under her arm. She’d changed into a loose sweater and a pair of tight jeans which she’d tucked into her boots. And she’d gathered her hair in a messy bun at the top of her head.

  Pins and needles pricked my fingertips. The heat spiraling its way through my body had everything to do with her and not the hot glass in my hand.

  I took another sip of coffee and watched her rush across the kitchen toward the fire. If I took a small sideways step, my hand would brush against hers, and more than anything, I wanted to touch her, but before I got the chance to, Max yipped and barked, glancing around warily.

  She visibly shivered. “It’s minus a billion outside. The wind’s whipping the snow into a blizzard. I should try to litter train you.” She swept her fingers over Max’s back, and I half wished I was the one on the receiving end of her touch.

  “And who’s this ugly little critter?” Brendan wandered over to the fireplace and tickled the dog behind the ears.

  “Max.” She placed the still shaking dog at her feet. “He belongs to a friend. If I hadn’t taken him in, he’d have ended up on the streets or in the pound. I’ll keep him under control. He won’t get in anyone’s way, and he’s house trained.”

  Her cheeks and nose glowed with cold, and drops of melting snow clung to her weather-frizzed hair. My arm moved of its own accord to pull her into my heat, but to stop myself, I tightened my fist and shoved the traitorous hand deep into my trouser pocket.

  Max cowered behind Tessa with his spindly tail tucked firmly between his legs.

  “I’ve seen bigger rats in the cellar.” Brendan hunkered down. Max poked his head between Tessa’s ankles and sniffed Brendan’s outstretched fingers. “You’ll be no trouble. Will you, wee man? Come here.” Max, deciding he could trust Brendan, followed him toward the butcher’s block. “Do you want a treat?” He dropped a few cubes of cooked beef into a bowl and set it on the ground for Max, who wolfed it down.

  “I would kill for one of those coffees.” Tessa scanned the kitchen and jigged from foot to foot as if trying to thaw her feet. “Where’s Barb? I can’t find her, and she’s not answering her phone.”

  “You mean the Rottweiler in red lipstick.” Brendan chuckled and set about making Tessa’s Irish coffee. “Hopefully sleeping. She was three sheets to the wind.”

  “Is she any nicer now she’s drunk?” Tessa inquired.

  “She’s insisting she’s not drunk,” Brendan said. “Thought she could drink two bottles of twenty-year-old red and not have it hit her. You should have seen her knock it back. Like water to her.” He passed Tessa her coffee, which she accepted with thanks.

  “She’s old school,” I said, joining in the conversation. “Probably thinks she can drink a potcheen-soaked Irishman under the table.”

  Tessa ignored me and sipped her coffee. A small whimper of appreciation slipped from between her lips and sent a shock up my spine.

  “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. I could drink these all night.” She took another sip, and when she lowered the glass, a small line of cream coated her upper lip. With a flick of her tongue, she licked the cream away.

  My dick twitched at the sight.

  Most women I’d dated in the past would’ve used a move like that to tease and torture me, but not Tessa. She had no clue about the effect she had on me. That even the most innocent of her gestures had the potential to knock me off my feet.

  “I hope you don’t mind us staying here for a few days,” she said. “Barb thinks it’ll be easier if I’m nearby. I guess it makes sense with the weather and all. I’ll sleep in one of the old rooms out back with Max.”

  “You will, my arse.” Brendan, who was back behind the butcher’s block, gestured toward her with the sharp tip of his chopping knife. “You’ll sleep in the castle in one of the rooms with heat, or I should say one of the rooms that’ll have heat by tomorrow.” He stirred the pot of sizzling vegetables, dropped in pre-seared chunks of beef, and then pointed the glinting knife toward me. “Will your man be staying in the same room as you?”

  “No.” Tessa moved away from me.

  I caught Tessa’s hand and entwined my fingers with hers. A tremor of something passed between us, and by the way Tessa’s eyes widened, she felt it too.

  “Your man will be staying with you.” I held her seething gaze, her eyes a raging whirlpool. “We wouldn’t want to put Brendan to any more trouble by messing up two guest rooms so close to the event, would we, pooh bear?”

  “I’m… I’m sure it’s no trouble.” She tore her eyes from mine. “I’ll clean them myself. You know we, ehm, promised each other we wouldn’t sleep together again until our wedding night.”

  “For God’s sake, spare me the details,” Brendan said with a roll of his eyes.

  I lowered my lips to her ear and whispered. “Afraid of what you might see if you walk in on me in the shower?”

  “Get over yourself.” She looked me up and down, but I didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on my crotch. “Think you have something I haven’t seen before?” She snatched her hand from mine and walked to the butcher’s block. “One room it is.”

  “I’ll go up and light the fire.” Brendan poured a bottle of Guinness into the stew pot then set a lid on top.

  “No need. I will,” I offered.

  Tessa snorted. “It’s an easy-light log. Any idiot can light it.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m an idiot, isn’t it?”

  “Your words…”

  “You two are giving me a bloody headache. I’ll light the stupid fire.” He washed and dried his hands, pulled an old brass key from his pocket and slid it across the countertop. “Stay in the Áine suite on the second floor. It’s not that bad. There are fresh linens in the laundry room. Grab some on the way.” Without a backward glance, he left the kitchen.

  “Why are you such a jerk?” Tessa grabbed the key and shoved it into the back pocket of her jeans.

  “What can I say?” I leaned my back against the butcher’s block and cradled the still warm but empty glass in my hand. “It’s my cross to carry.”

  She paced back and forth in front of the fire, Max trotting behind her, and blew damp straggles of hair out of her face. “You infuriate me like no other man I’ve ever met. I’ve a thousand things to do before this day is over. Then I plan on a long soak before curling up in front of the fire with my laptop and Netflix. I don’t want you anywhere near me. I don’t want to think about you. I don’t want to see you. And don’t even think we’re sleeping in the same bed.”

  Tessa crouched and tickled Max’s head. “I’ll come back for you later. Be good. Don’t pee on anything.” She started toward the steps leading to the foyer. I followed. The sway of her hips and the stride of her long legs drew my gaze. And the curve of her ass in her tight jeans was a sight I’d never tire of.

  “Getting a good enough look?” she asked, walking upstairs.

  “At what?”

  “Don’t even pretend.”

  “You’re walking up a set of stairs in front of me. Where else am I supposed to look?”

  “Typical man, thinking with his dick.”

  “I can assure you, I’m anything but typical.”

  She spun around. A kaleidoscope of emotions shifted over her face. “You just proved my point. You’re a typical man who thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”<
br />
  Her defiant tone taunted me, and if she’d thrown down the gauntlet, I was more than willing to pick it up.

  “Are you trying to get me to prove something? Because if you are, I have no problem doing exactly that.”

  “In your dreams.”

  There was zero conviction behind her words. Without thought, I stepped forward until I was close enough to feel the warmth of her breath. A squeak of protest sounded from her throat, and as if to push me away, her hand flattened over my racing heart, but then her lips parted as if inviting me in.

  I accepted the invitation and lowered my head. The softness of her lips defeated me, and my body flew a white flag of surrender as blood surged south. I reached for her hair and tugged her messy bun loose, my fingers tightening around the mass of caramel waves as they fell.

  Our lips molded together, and I pulled her deeper into our embattled kiss. When our tongues touched, my mind blanked, thoroughly erasing any need for her to fail. The taste of coffee and whiskey coated her lips, and the scent of sweet apples and vanilla from her hair left me woozy. It was all I could do not to throw Tessa over my shoulder, find one of the secret rooms Brendan had mentioned and explore how out of control things between us could get.

  She moaned into my mouth and crushed herself against me. The feel of her breasts pressing against me sent all common-sense packing. A week of this, of her, wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it? I nipped at her lower lip and ran my hands over her lush curves, but before I could investigate any further, she broke away, gasping for air.

  Her fingers flew to her lips. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “I thought you wanted…” I ran a hand through my hair.

  She took half a step back and pressed herself against the stone wall, her throat working hard as she swallowed.

  “You took me by surprise. I didn’t have time to think. You’re so not staying in the same room as me.”

  “Frightened you won’t be able to control yourself, sweetheart?” I hadn’t meant my words to sound as caustic as they did—I should take them back, apologize—but right now, I wanted to push her, argue with her, see the fire in her eyes.