by Bonnie Vanak
“Then dinner tomorrow?” He reached over, covered her palm with his warm, strong one. A heady sexual awareness rushed through her. Such nice hands. They would feel amazing stroking her naked skin.
Gently, she pulled her hand away. Ella sipped her white wine. “Look, Sir Kieran, you’re cute. I like you. But my life is far too busy for dating.”
“Then allow me to free time for you. Have you need of money? I can pay you.”
Outrage filled her and she fought the impulse to toss her drink into his handsome face. It was damn good wine. “I’m not for sale. If you want a whore, try someplace else.”
Gripping her glass, she went to slide out of the booth. A strong hand clasped her wrist. “I have misspoke again, fair maiden. I only meant to offer help, not pay you for your body.” His gaze was intense. “I would never insult you like that, Ella. Nor would I ever pay you, or another woman, for sex. Women need to be protected, and cherished.”
She didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. He was the most amazing man she’d ever met. He spouted charm and chauvinism in the same breath. Ella set down her glass.
“That’s incredibly condescending of you, to think women need protecting because we are the weaker sex.” She made quote marks with her fingers.
“No, it’s not. It’s simply being a good male.” Kieran drank his non-alcoholic beer. Odd how he didn’t like to drink. Perhaps he was a recovering alcoholic.
“Women are not the weaker sex. Far from it. Can you imagine a male giving birth? At the first labor pain, we would doom our race to extinction.”
She laughed at his exaggerated shudder. “I’ll agree. But why do you act like we’re the weaker sex?”
“It’s in a true male’s DNA to cherish and protect the women in his family. If he is a male of worth, he extends that protection to all women he meets. She could be the most powerful and athletic woman in the world, and he’d still fight for her.”
Captivated by his husky voice, the steely glint in his eye, she remained riveted to her seat. There had been only one man in her life who’d cared about to protect her with his life, and her father had been gone for five years.
The air grew thick with an intensity and tension she needed to break. “If I were the strongest woman in the world, would you still defend me?”
She’d asked this in a teasing manner, with a wide smile, which Kieran did not return.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I would.”
There was nothing but sincerity in his dark gaze as he drew himself up. Ella felt newfound respect. The man was whip-chord lean with muscle, and she suspected some would underestimate that wiry strength, think that because he wasn’t huge and bulky, that he could be beaten.
“I’m sure your mother and the rest of your family are proud of you for being so dedicated.”
Ella caught a flicker of emotion on his face. “Does your family live here?” he asked.
Familiar grief pinched her insides, tightened her throat. “I live with my mother. My father…he died five years ago”
“I am sorry. Was he ill?”
“No.” She thought of the horrible night the police arrived at their door to inform her mother that Cecil had been killed in a car crash. “It was an accident. One minute he was driving on the highway, the next dead in a ditch.”
Wishing to change the bitter subject, she gestured to him. “What about you? Siblings? Parents nearby?”
“No.” He went silent for a long moment. “My family…they’re all dead now.”
Ella blinked hard, stunned into silence. His entire family? She’d lost one parent and thought her world had ceased to exist.
“What happened?” she whispered.
“There was a war and they became victims.” He swallowed more beer, his fist tightening around the bottle so hard she heard it crack. Kieran set down the bottle and rubbed his palm.
“I’m so sorry. What war? The war in Iraq?”
Kieran shook his head, staring at the table. It was probably too terrible to talk about. She had no desire to cause further pain.
“Did you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked.
“One brother died in the war. My sister and I survived, only because we hid from the invaders. For eight hours, we concealed ourselves in the bushes. I covered her with branches and beseeched her to be quiet so no one could see us.”
She let out a breath. “Wow. No wonder you’ve so protective. What happened to your sister?”
Sorrow filled his eyes and his jaw tightened. Kieran turned away. “She was murdered some time ago.”
“I’m so sorry.” Ella was the one now to cover his palm with her own. Life was cruel. To survive the horrors of a war, and then to have your only surviving family member slaughtered. “Did they ever catch the person who did it?”
Kieran shrugged. “There was no justice.”
“Were you close?”
He nodded, still not looking at her. “Best friends. She was younger. So sweet. She had the most enchanting voice and loved to sing and dance.”
A lump clogged her throat. She remembered the night her father died, how empty and lost she’d felt, and yet she’d been the one to hold it together because her mother had fallen apart completely.
“She loved the cold, the snow, dancing in the snowflakes as they fell down around her. Sometimes I fall asleep and dream of her, and then I wake up happy because I’ll see her again, and then I remember. I’ll never hear her laughter, or tease her about burning dinner, or watch her dance in the snow.”
Kieran stared at the table. “We took care of each other from the day we lost our parents and other siblings. Always. And now she isn’t around for me to worry about, to listen for her coming through the door at night. It took a long time to get used to that.”
Tears burned in the back of her throat. She’d felt the exact same way about her father. She had learned to cope, accepted the loss and moved on. But her mother was another matter. Her mother seemed incapable of pushing past the grief to live again.
“How did you do it?” Ella patted his hand and then swallowed more wine, hoping it would chase away the stinging in her throat. “How did you learn to work past the grief?”
“You never forget it, or get over it. You get through it, one day at a time. I resolved to live for my sister’s memory, to accomplish something that would make her proud.”
A project. That’s what her mother needed. A big project in her father’s memory, to honor him. “Yes. That’s why a lot of people create memorial funds, or donate to worthy causes. Maybe my mother needs that.”
“Tell me,” he urged.
For the next few minutes she told him about her mother’s lack of ambition, her exhaustion and how she seldom wanted to leave the house. “She got a new job, but her creep boyfriend made her late for the first day, so she got fired.” Ella sighed.
Kieran frowned. “You should not be bearing the financial burden alone, Ella. Your mother needs to assist.”
Usually she’d never been impulsive, but something urged her now. “Would you come to dinner at my house tomorrow night and talk with my mother? I think, no, I know, you could encourage her to finally work past her grief.”
Maybe that would convince her that El Creepo isn’t the solution to her loneliness.
“I would be honored.”
Hearing him agree lifted a tremendous burden off her shoulders. She’d had friends in the past, but with her hectic schedule and no social life, those few friendships had vanished. Maybe having someone else talk to her mother would convince Nellie that she didn’t need a man to complete her life. Especially someone as scummy as Stan.
“My mom has a boyfriend. I don’t think he’s a good influence.” Her voice wobbled. “There’s something about him that makes me feel like he’s covered in slime.”
Kieran’s gaze sharpened on her. “He bothers you? Tell me.”
Ella talked about Stan, how he’d come into her mother’s life a year ago. “It was really odd.
Mom had finally gotten her act together, and was getting ready to move us to Tennessee. She got a terrific job offer there, and I had applied and been accepted to the university. And then while she was downtown, getting groceries, she met Stan. Forget the move, forget everything. He’s been in and out of mom’s life, and mine since then.”
Leaning back, he drummed his fingers on the table. Ella blinked. His nails almost seemed…sharper. Claw-like.
Ridiculous.
“This Stan, does he come back into your lives just as it seems your mother is getting this so-called act together?”
Ella smiled at his way of referencing it. Perhaps he’d lived overseas and was unfamiliar with American colloquial speech. Then her smile dropped. Stan did have a habit of vanishing when her mother really needed him, when she’d fallen apart and found her bed and sleep more appealing than facing the world.
“Yes.” Ella sighed. “Mom told me this afternoon she’s finally gotten a job. And then suddenly he showed up.”
Kieran tilted his head, as if listening to someone in the distance. “I will come to dinner tomorrow night, Ella. And perhaps your mother should invite this Stan so I may meet him.”
“Not a good idea. The more he’s around her, the worse she slips back into her bad habits.”
“I will be present. You will have nothing to worry about. Trust me.”
Trust came in small doses, increasing with actions that proved the person was trustworthy. Kieran had given her reason for this date with his valiant action back at the restaurant in standing up to the creep who’d groped her. But one act did not convince her that he was a knight in shining armor. She didn’t believe in men rescuing her, anyway. But a talk with her mother? That would suffice.
“Call Stan. Invite him and tell him to arrive after me. It will give me time to converse with your mother, assess what her trouble is.”
Gaze mesmerizing, he looked straight at her, almost hypnotizing her. Ella nodded.
She ran through her schedule in her mind. If she worked from nine to four tomorrow at Harvey’s and got the extra hours, she could take the night off from the restaurant. Call in sick. It happened.
“Tomorrow night, show up at 6 p.m.” She glanced down at the little gold watch her father had given as a present on her 16th birthday. She laughed. “I mean, tonight, since it’s after midnight.”
Ella gave him the address, hoping her mother would clean the house so it wouldn’t look terribly shabby.
Kieran lifted her hand to his mouth and gently kissed her knuckles. “Fear not. I shall be there, fair maiden. With great anticipation.”
His grim smile proved oddly comforting. “And I shall be prepared to deal with whatever may come.”
7
Ella wasn’t confident bringing Kieran home to dinner would make a miraculous change in her mother, but it was worth the risk.
She only hoped he wouldn’t slurp his soup, or take off his clothing. Though his body was quite nice, she suspected nudity would make her mother faint.
Especially with what he had to show off…
“Ella! Stop daydreaming and get to work on those files! I’m letting you work late out of the goodness of my heart, so work!”
Ed’s bellowing voice reminded her of a fat, lazy bull. Head down, she began typing on the keyboard once more. Ed was a preacher, but a slick one, all oily smoothness when it came to soliciting money, but harsh with his staff.
Staying out of his way had been her survival tactic in the past. Once or twice in the two years since she’d gotten this job, she’d seen him stare at her. Not in a crude, lusty kind of way like some men did, but as if he was trying to figure her out.
As if I have anything to figure out. My life is boring. I’m the woman who gets her kicks from studying ancient manuscripts.
By four o’clock, Ella managed to finish her work. She didn’t bother with a break, though she knew Ed would automatically dock her for that time. Today she couldn’t care less, for her heart pounded with excitement at the thought of seeing Kieran again.
As she went to shut off her computer, a chill snaked down her spine. Ella turned, knowing even before she did that her boss stood behind her.
She hated how he did that. As nice as his parents had been, Ed was a total sleeze.
“Leaving so soon?” He folded his arms over his bulging stomach. One button threatened to pop off. “I thought you wanted to work late.”
“This is late for me. I’m scheduled usually only until noon.” Ella cringed inwardly as he sat on the edge of her desk. It felt like having a sea slug cuddle up to you.
“Why are you leaving? Hot date?” His gaze crawled all over her, making gooseflesh pop up on her bare arms. Not for the tenth time today, she wished she’d brought her sweater.
“Family friend coming to visit.” Ella pushed back her chair. “I have to dash. Thanks for letting me work late, Ed.”
You slime.
“I’m not just your boss, Ella baby. Think of me as your friend. If you ever need anything, come talk to me.” He grinned at her and for a split second, she saw a skull’s head, smooth white bone with maggots crawling out of the mouth.
Ella blinked hard, and the image vanished, replaced by Ed’s florid, pudgy face with two beady brown eyes, like raisins in dough.
“Have a good night,” she muttered, and ran for the elevator.
Today she shared a ride with one of the other women who worked until four. After reaching home, she glanced over the house’s exterior. Clean enough, though the flower beds needed watering and weeding. The paint was chipped on the front porch, but nothing could be done about that now.
Inside the house, she smelled the tantalizing fragrance of roasting beef. Maybe Nellie had gone to the market and put herself out to prepare a good meal. When she cooked, her mother could whip up the most delicious concoctions.
Yelling out a greeting, she ran upstairs to shower and change.
By the time she went into the kitchen, it was nearly six. Ella smoothed down her white silk sleeveless blouse. Paired with her good black trousers, it was smart and made her look professional, and her bare arms made it a little sexy. The locket with the moon carving her parents had given her when she’d turned twenty-one hung around her neck.
For some reason, Ella had seen it in a catalog and wanted it. The crescent moon appealed to her. Busy at the stove, Nellie didn’t turn around.
“Hello, honey. Can you set the table in the dining room?”
A few minutes later, their best white china sat on the linen tablecloth, with matching silverware by each plate. Ella returned to the kitchen her. Relief filled her.
Nellie wore her good blue dress with the pink flowers, and her hair and makeup took several years off her careworn face. She stirred a pot at the stove, smiling at her daughter.
“I made prime rib, your favorite. With fresh vegetables and twice-stuffed baked potatoes and salad.”
Heart full, she kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Stan loves my twice-baked potatoes.”
Oh. Him. She’d almost forgotten. Well, at least Kieran would be here.
The doorbell rang. Excitement pulsed through her. He’s here. She felt giddy as a schoolgirl with a crush.
Kieran stood on the landing, a bottle of wine in one hand, a bouquet of daisies in the other. In his black turtleneck, neatly pressed jeans, hiking boots and black leather jacket, he looked dreamy beyond her imagination. Her female parts sang with joy.
Yes, yes, come upstairs and let’s get familiar.
Ella swallowed the sudden surge of pure lust, and brought him inside. He handed her the daisies. “For you.”
She buried her nose into the bouquet. “Thank you.”
“I brought the white wine you enjoy.”
She took the bottle from him. As their fingers touched, a current of sexual arousal jumped between them. Ella squeezed her legs together and smiled, though inside she felt like dropping everything and jumping him.
Kie
ran’s eyes darkened. But he only shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door.
Remembering her manners, she nodded toward the kitchen. “Come meet my mom.”
As she placed the flowers in an old glass pitcher filled with water, he shook hands with her mother. Kieran asked if he could help with dinner and then insisted on sitting at the kitchen table when they told him they didn’t need help with preparations.
He asked Nellie all manner of questions about her life. And he listened to a long story about her younger days. Fist resting on his chin, he paid close attention.
Nellie glanced at the frying pan clock hanging on the wall. She’d purchased it at a flea market last year. “I don’t know where Stan is. It’s almost 6:45.”
“If we’re lucky, he’s dropped off the face of the earth,” Ella muttered. “Let’s eat without him.”
“I am hungry,” Kieran added.
Ever the hostess, Nellie agreed. Ella helped bring the dishes to the table as Kieran carried the roast. His nostrils flared.
“This smells like heaven, Mrs. Princeton. Rare and the right amount of spices. Thank you for all your hard work in preparing this meal.”
And look at that, her mom blushed, twisting her hands together and stammering that it was nothing.
Ella actually relaxed when they started eating. Kieran ate with impeccable manners. Patted his sensual mouth with a napkin. Made light conversation, asking her mother about the house, praising the meal.
And then he got her to open up about her days before Ella was born, when she used to dance at the local theater. It was fun, listening to her mother talk about the musicals she’d performed in, the shows she’d done. Kieran joked that he could not dance for the life of him and Nellie shot back that she could teach him.
The joking between them made Ella laugh. With a start, she realized she hadn’t done that in more than a year.
Neither had Nellie.
When did we get so absorbed in simply trying to survive that we forgot to have fun?
At one point, Nellie got up and went to the sideboard holding the liquor bottles. The liquor had always been for guests. Since Dad died, her mother never drank. Now Nellie gave Kieran a girlish smile. “Care for a little brandy? It’s special brandy I keep for my special guests.”