Conal spoke. “I want you to know everything about me, Charlotte. I want to know everything about you. It's only fair you know the truth.” He caught my chin, lifted my face to meet his. “I lost my virginity when I was sixteen, with a girl from the pack. We went out together for about eighteen months. Her name was Otsana – she was twenty-one.”
“An older woman, huh?” I teased softly.
Conal grinned. “Yeah, she was.”
“Otsana, I guess she was a pure-blood werewolf?”
“You're getting good at picking the names. Yeah, she was pure-blood. I've dated a few of them in the past. I haven't slept with all of them though.” He twirled one of my curls around his finger and watched it thoughtfully. “I've done my fair share of dating, Charlotte. You have to remember I'm thirty-nine, I'm twenty years ahead of you in the dating stakes. I have dated a lot of women – but I've only slept with seven of them. Women I thought I might have a future with. I'm not into one night stands – the women I've slept with have all been long term relationships.”
“You don't have to tell me this, Conal,” I offered quietly.
“I don't have to tell you, I know. I want to tell you.” He leaned forward, brushed his lips against mine. “You and I – I plan on this being a long term relationship – a permanent, for the rest of our lives kind of relationship. I want you to know everything about me, for us to have no secrets from one another.”
The sense of anxiety about his future as pack leader hit me with a rush and I drew a shuddering breath. “Conal…”
“I know, I know. I'm pushing you too hard.” He dropped another light kiss on my lips. “I'm sorry, Sugar. I promise, we'll take things at your speed.” He glanced at his watch, and gave me a gentle squeeze. “C'mon. Time for bed. It's late and Marianne sure as hell isn't missing out on her shopping trip tomorrow because we've stayed up half the night talking.”
I got to my feet and looked at the bed tentatively. “Maybe I'll sleep in my jeans,” I suggested quietly.
Conal frowned. “How come?”
I blushed. “I checked my bag. I've seen what Marianne packed for me to wear to bed.”
Conal raised one eyebrow. “Okay, I'm intrigued.”
My skin reddened further and I looked at the floor. “Marianne packed something that's… kind of revealing.” I explained awkwardly. “I'm not sure we're ready for it yet.”
Conal stood up and caught me in his arms, his eyes filled with desire. “Why don't you put it on and let me be the judge of that?” he requested huskily.
I shook my head. “I'm not sure it's a good idea, Conal.”
He dropped his mouth to mine, kissing me softly. “Charlotte, you could wear a garbage sack and I'd still want you, and find you utterly irresistible,” he teased, before his voice became serious. “I won't push you, Charlotte.” He dropped his arms from around my waist and stepped towards the bathroom. “I'm gonna take a quick shower.”
For a long time after he disappeared into the bathroom, I stood rooted to the spot, deliberating over what to do. Leaving my jeans on would be the safest option, I was almost certain Conal wouldn't be able to control his libido if he saw the nightwear Marianne had packed.
The question was, did I want him to? Our conversation had made me even more anxious. He'd slept with seven different women. I'd had only a small amount of experience with one man. He was far more worldly than I was, in every single way. And I was still worrying about his commitment to me, and what it would do to him as pack leader. He'd misunderstood my anxiety, attributing it to being about Lucas but I was more concerned about him losing the pack than anything else. I couldn't ask him to give up the pack for me and I wouldn't. But I loved him, and my desire for him was overwhelming. But was I ready to take the next step with him, to let him make love to me? I still hadn't made up my mind when I heard the water shut off and minutes later, Conal made an appearance, dressed in pajama bottoms and nothing else. Intense longing washed over me, as I gazed at his ripped abdomen and tightly muscled chest.
“You're exactly where you were when I went in the shower, Charlotte,” he commented mildly.
I sighed deeply. “Still undecided, I guess.”
Conal rummaged through his bag, passing me a t-shirt. “Wear this. It should be big enough to cover ninety percent of you.”
I smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”
Conal caught my hand, drawing me towards him and into his arms. “You're not ready, Charlotte,” he murmured softly against my cheek. “If you had to stand and debate about it for so long, you're not ready.”
He kissed my forehead and released me and I slipped into the bathroom, stripping off my clothes and pulling the t-shirt over my head. When I'd brushed my teeth and washed my face, I found Conal lying in bed, his head resting against his hands as he gazed at the ceiling. When he heard the bathroom door he turned his head, his eyes filled with desire and he smiled wryly.
“What?” I demanded, glancing down at the t-shirt which hung to the middle of my thighs.
“Told you it wouldn't matter what you wore,” he stated quietly. “You turn me on, no matter what you do.”
I padded across the floor, slipping in the bed beside him and Conal wrapped his arms around me. “Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” I offered.
“Hell no,” Conal responded swiftly. “I want you exactly where you are now.”
I rolled onto my side and met Conal's eyes. “I love you,” I said fervently.
Conal smiled and kissed me. “I know. And I love you.” He rolled onto his back, his arms draped around me.
“I'm sorry. You were right,” I apologized quietly. “Maybe it was adrenaline, making me think I might be ready.”
“Sugar, take your time. There's no rush.” He smiled and I caught the twinkle in his eye. “Granted, I would have loved to see what Marianne packed, made my own decision about how suitable it was.”
I laughed and slapped his chest. “You'll get your chance.”
Conal grinned down at me. “I'm counting on it, Sugar.”
Chapter 41: The Magic of New York
Waking the following morning, I discovered Conal was missing, his side of the bed empty. I frowned as I yanked the covers away. “Conal?”
“In here, Sugar.” His voice came from the bathroom and I walked across to investigate, pushing the door open.
Conal was shaving at the sink and I smiled softly.
“What?” he demanded, looking at me in the mirror's reflection.
I shook my head. “It's nothing, it's kind of stupid really.” He raised an eyebrow and I explained. “Lucas never had to shave. It's kind of a novelty to see you shaving.”
“Lucky Lucas,” Conal smiled easily. He rinsed the blade underneath the faucet and wiped his face over with a towel. Turning to face me, he leaned against the bench. “How are you this morning?” he questioned.
I stepped across the room and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I'm happy, Conal. Gloriously happy to be here, with you.”
“Glad to hear it,” he said, leaning forward to press a kiss against my neck. “How about you get dressed and we go see some more of New York?”
“We couldn't go back to bed?” I suggested.
Conal laughed. “No, Sugar. As much as that's incredibly tempting, Marianne will be chomping at the bit to get going.”
On cue, I heard a knock at the door and rolled my eyes at Conal. “You'd better answer that – I don't want to explain why I'm wearing your t-shirt this morning.”
“Chicken.” Conal turned and headed out the bathroom door and I grinned as I slipped into the shower. Dressing quickly, I greeted Marianne and Striker when I re-entered the room. Marianne was dressed exquisitely in black jeans and boots, a chunky white jumper and had a jaunty beret perched on her blue hair. It was positively subdued for Marianne, who usually favored a far more outrageous mode of style, but I figured she was going for a chic look. She greeted me with a warm hug and I smiled at Striker, who threw me a wink.
&nbs
p; “Ready for New York shopping?” Marianne asked brightly.
“Marianne, honestly. I can't think of one thing I could possibly need,” I protested. “You girls have bought enough clothes to last for three lifetimes. Besides which, the stores will be absolutely insane – it's Christmas Eve!”
“Ah, but now we have the baby to buy for,” Marianne retorted happily.
I cocked my head to one side. “Marianne, I'm only twelve weeks pregnant. I've got plenty of time to think about that.”
Conal shook his head, his eyes twinkling. “She's never going to give in, Sugar. Might as well go along for the ride.”
Marianne steamrolled through the stores, Conal, Striker and I following in her wake. Conal was relaxed and happy, his arm around my waist or his hand clasped in mine most of the time. While Marianne picked up a multitude of baby items and discussed their individual merits with me, he and Striker stood together talking. They both looked very relaxed, but I was aware that they were constantly scrutinizing the crowds, watchful for any trouble.
We left the stores around noon, laden down with bags full of items for the baby, more than I possibly imagine I was going to need. No baby on the planet could need the amount of clothing Marianne had purchased, but it made her so happy I couldn't begrudge her delight.
After a delightful lunch at a diminutive Italian restaurant, we spent the afternoon at the Museum of Modern Art, a remarkable experience. While I enjoyed the various art forms on display, it was the paintings which really captured my attention and Conal was happy to indulge my passion, following me around as I delighted in studying the abundant gallery.
Relaxed and happy, we returned to the hotel in the late afternoon and Conal dumped the copious bags in a pile on the floor while I slumped onto the bed. “You look tired, Sugar.”
I dipped my head in tired agreement, reaching down to pull off my boots.
Conal sat beside me, drawing me into his arms and I rested my head against his shoulder. “Why don't you lay down, take a nap? I've booked dinner for eight, so you could get a couple of hours' sleep.”
Taking his advice, I lay down and Conal crawled up beside me, capturing me against him. “I love you,” I mumbled wearily.
“I adore you, Charlotte,” Conal responded, his fingers combing through my hair soothingly.
“You didn't mind today?” I queried, opening one eye to peek up at him.
“What was there to mind?”
I shrugged a little. “The baby shopping. I wondered if it made you uncomfortable.”
Conal shook his head. “Why would it worry me?” He saw my downcast eyes and guessed. “Because it's Lucas's baby?”
I nodded imperceptibly. “This has to be difficult for you, knowing I'm pregnant and Lucas is the father.”
“I didn't like it at first,” Conal admitted softly, his eyes holding mine. “When you first told me, I was struggling to deal with it.”
“But you did.”
Conal smiled. “It took a few days. I have to admit, I cursed Lucas, more than once. It's annoying to know he did everything with you first. But then I figured out that it didn't change a single thing. I still loved you.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be.” Conal kissed me softly. “To be honest, I'm kind of looking forward to the baby arriving now.”
“Really?” He'd surprised me.
Conal smiled. “Charlotte, there's so much crap going on with our lives right now – knowing in July next year, there's going to be a new little person in the world – despite the worst the Drâghici can do; it's kind of amazing really. I plan to be here with you, every step of the way.”
I frowned gloomily. “I'm frightened because the Drâghici know about the baby, Conal. Even though they don't have confirmation, they still know. What if they follow through with their plan and take him away from me?”
“Him?” Conal smiled softly. “You think it's a boy?”
I shook my head. “I haven't got a clue. But calling him 'him' seems better than 'it',” I admitted.
Conal rubbed his thumb across my cheek, his eyes serious. “I will never let the Drâghici get to your baby, Charlotte. I'll never let them get hold of you. Sugar, I'll protect you no matter what happens. I promise.”
I closed my eyes and snuggled against his chest, feeling sleep drift over me as I relaxed in the safety of his arms.
I stepped out of the bathroom and Conal whistled appreciatively. “Wow.”
“Wow, yourself.” I returned the compliment, admiring him in the dark grey suit, crisp white shirt and maroon tie he was wearing, which emphasized his body to perfection. He looked as though he would be perfectly comfortable posing for a photo shoot and would certainly suit the role. The man was incredibly handsome, there was no doubt about it and I felt the familiar tendril of desire curling around in my stomach.
Conal's eyes grazed admiringly across the dress Marianne had packed, one she'd bought when we went shopping in Billings and which I'd never gotten around to wearing yet. It was a strapless black dress, the cut of the material skimming across my figure and emphasizing my breasts and hips. I'd teamed it with sheer black stockings and sky-high black heels and a smattering of gold jewelry. I was remarkably self-conscious about the tiny baby bump which was slightly noticeable if I turned to the side. I hadn't noticed it until I went into the shower after my nap, when I'd woken up and my jeans felt a little tight. I hadn't expected the change to happen so quickly, but having never been pregnant before, I really didn't have a clue. When I had a chance, I'd talk to Misaki, she'd be able to give me some idea of what to expect.
“Ready to go?” Conal asked, smoothly picking up my wrap from the bed and draping it carefully around my shoulders.
I nodded, still openly admiring him as he grasped my hand and grinned. “Charlotte, keep looking at me like that and I'm going to find it hard to control myself,” he warned evenly. “The look in your eyes is difficult to ignore.”
I swallowed hard and dragged my eyes away from his body, a deep blush rising over my cheeks. Conal laughed, drawing me through the door and we made our way downstairs to the hotel restaurant.
Dinner was magnificent, the restaurant divine. Overlooking Central Park, the windows provided yet more panoramic views of the New York skyline, something I was certain I would never tire of. Our table was right beside the window, in a private booth which made it seem as though Conal and I were the only two people in the world.
I was completely overwhelmed by the choices on the menu, I'd never been to a restaurant such as this one and felt very nervous. Conal sensed my discomfort and put me at ease, offering to make selections for us. I happily agreed and was delighted with his choices. We started with an Entrée of Sashimi, a delicious blend of cucumber salad with an avocado mousse, which I demolished in short order much to Conal's delight. For the Main Course he'd selected Black Sea Bass with Sautéed Asian Vegetables and Oyster Mushrooms. We finished with a Chocolate Soufflé Tart which was absolutely divine. Conal had wine with dinner, I stuck with orange juice and we finished off with coffee and mints.
Our conversation flowed easily, I learned more about Conal and discovered things which made me love him even more. We talked about his childhood, growing up with the pack in Natchez, where it seemed he was more than a little rebellious and got into all sorts of mischief as a youngster. It gave me a far better understanding of why he'd received a whipping from a Nun, for trying to look up her habit.
Conal told me about his love of motorcycles and fishing, sharing tales of fishing trips with his father when he'd been a teenager. Throughout our conversation, his love for his family shone through strongly, he'd shared a close relationship with both his parents and of course Nonny. He told me about his college years, when he partied hard and worked hard, then about the years during which he'd travelled around the country, working on buildings in nearly every State in the country.
I learned that he'd played football during college and enjoyed playing basketball. He didn't like r
eading much, but loved watching sport on television. He was friends with the majority of the men in the pack, having grown up in close proximity to all of them. He enjoyed drinking beer with his buddies, but was just as comfortable drinking fine wine in a restaurant like this.
I was profoundly touched to discover Conal had created a fund through his company to allow every child in the pack the opportunity to attend college. It was, he said, important that every child be given the opportunities he'd had as pack leader's son and whilst he and his family were obviously financially comfortable, many of the working class members of the pack couldn't provide the same opportunities for their own children. Consequently, Conal created a fund to allow it to happen. He also let slip that he'd provided Phelan's wife with a financial boost after Phelan's death, paying off their mortgage so Faolán wouldn't have to worry about a roof over her head when the war was over.
By the time we left the restaurant a little after eleven, I was in awe of the man beside me, having learned more about him than I'd ever known before. Conal was a good man, strong and true and I was proud that he loved me and more sure than ever that he would love and accept my baby and treat him as his own. Musing over these thoughts in the lift on the way back upstairs, I instinctively rubbed my hand over my stomach and Conal smiled softly, his arm draped around my waist. “You're beginning to show a little bit,” he remarked softly, his eyes on my belly.
I blushed. “It seems to have popped out in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Was gonna happen sooner or later,” Conal remarked. He rubbed his hand against my waist. “It's going to be exciting seeing you get bigger.”
I looked up at him uncertainly. “You really think so?”
Conal nodded firmly. “I've always wanted kids, Charlotte. For as long as I can remember.” He placed his hand over mine. “I know he isn't my kid, but I'm sure looking forward to meeting him.”
My eyes filled with tears. “I don't understand how I got so lucky,” I admitted softly. “To have you in my life - and Lucas – I'm the luckiest girl in the world.”
The Knowledge of Love (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 4) Page 33