Kiss Me, I'm Irish

by Barri Bryan

  Margaret pulled her hand free. The magic of the moment vanished when she said scornfully, “We were stupid children."

  Connal sat on the end of the couch. “For children we spent a hell of a lot of time engaging in a very adult activity."

  Margaret perched on the edge of the desk and swung one leg. “With no thought of consequences, we were lucky Connal. I could have gotten pregnant while engaging in those adult activities."

  Almost, Connal could wish that she had. “We were a bit careless.” He patted the cushion beside him. “Come and sit by me."

  Margaret didn't move. “We were completely irresponsible."

  Connal smiled. “But you have to admit that we did have one hell of a time."

  "At other people's expense, we worried Uncle Jake and Eva and we just about drove C.J. out of his mind."

  Connal could attest to that fact. “Did you know that C.J has a surveillance camera installed in here after he learned that I'd had a duplicate made of his key?” Once more he patted the couch cushion beside him. “Come and sit down."

  This time Margaret obeyed. “My God, Connal did he get us on film?"

  Connal nodded, “Several times."

  In a voice made heavy by concern, Margaret asked, “How many is several?"

  "I don't know,” Connal shrugged, “Three or four, five at the most."

  A flash of the Margaret he remembered surfaced. “The son-of-a-bitch, did he show them to anyone?"

  "He showed them to me."

  Margaret's eyes narrowed to slits. “Where are those films now?"

  Connal had no idea and he said so before asking, “Are you worried?"

  "Worried? Of course I'm worried. There are films out there somewhere of you and me.... “She swore under her breath before declaring, “I want those films found and destroyed."

  "Maybe they have been destroyed.” Connal moved a little nearer. “I suppose I could ask C.J. about them."

  Anger glittered in the Margaret's eyes as she turned to face him. “You will do more than ask, you will demand that he give them to you immediately."

  Connal could imagine how far he'd get demanding anything from C.J. “I think it would be to our advantage to ask rather than order."

  "Do what you have to, but get them.” Margaret chewed her thumb nail. “The moment you get your hands on them, bring them to me and I will destroy them."

  This was not the way Connal had envisioned his Sunday trip going still this unexpected turn of events did have some advantages. He now had Margaret's attention and her interest. He slid his arm along the back of the couch. “Relax sweetheart. He's had them for eighteen years and he hasn't showed them to anyone else.” He let his arm fall to encircle her shoulder.

  Margaret was not appeased. “How do you know that he hasn't?"

  Connal pulled her closer. “C.J. is a scalawag but he's not vicious or cruel. He would never do anything that would deliberately hurt either of us.” He drew her closer to him. “Maggie darlin', it's going to be all right."

  Margaret laid her head on his shoulder. “How can you be sure?"

  Her nearness was doing odd things to Connal's equilibrium. He brushed his lips along the side of her cheek and felt her tremble. Tilting her chin upward he slowly brought his lips down on hers. His tongue found its way into the moist recesses of her mouth. It was like tasting heaven.

  Margaret put her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened and became more demanding.

  Somewhere in the dark niches of Connal's mind a warning sounded. He must not let his passion override his common sense. Lifting his head, he gently pushed Margaret from him. Even as she moved away, he knew that he could have taken her right here and right now and she wouldn't have lifted a finger to stop him. His body tightened and his blood heated but he managed to project a façade of control. “It's time we were getting on over to the foreman's house. They're expecting us for lunch."

  He saw the puzzled look on her face and the ‘want to’ in her eyes. They only strengthened his resolve. He wanted more that a ‘want to’ look and a reluctant surrender. He wanted Maggie panting and begging, so hot and bothered that she would be the aggressor. Until she reached that state, and she would, he would bide his time.

  Chapter Five

  Margaret's mind was in complete disarray. C.J. Cassidy could possibly have films of her and Connal having sex on his library couch and on the floor and standing against the wall and on their hands and knees in the corner. They had made love in this room with wild abandon and in positions to rival those found in The Complete Kama Sutra. She was not going to let some youthful indiscretion destroy the sterling reputation it had taken her years to build. “Forget lunch. We're going back to town."

  Connal didn't seem concerned or even upset. But why should he? His reputation was already about as bad as it could get. He came back across the floor and sat beside her. “Too bad C. J. couldn't have captured on tape you seducing me for the first time."

  Margaret gasped, “Connal, please.” She wanted to protest and say it was the other way around. She couldn't. He was telling the truth. She had shamelessly and wantonly seduced him. It had been a complete role reversal. Connal had been the innocent one; she had been the experienced one. Afterward she was amazed that at nineteen he had been a virgin. “It didn't take you long to get the hang of things."

  Connal chuckled, “I had a very good teacher."

  "And obviously a very stupid one,” Margaret quipped before adding, “You and I are going to C. J. and demand that he give us those tapes."

  "I don't think that's such a good idea.” Connal said as he stood, “If we start pushing C. J. he will push back."

  He was right, of course. Margaret stood and dusted the back of her jeans. “What can we do?"

  Connal smiled. “Have lunch with the Normans.” He glanced at his watch. “It's twelve-thirty. We're late. Let's go.” Taking her by the hand, he led her from the room, out of the house and to his car.

  As they traveled down the gravel road that led from the main house to the foreman's quarters, Margaret regained some of her composure and began to think a little more clearly. Connal was right. It would be a mistake for her to confront C. J. The elder Cassidy had never liked or approved of her. She had once heard him tell her Uncle Jake that she was a promiscuous young woman. She hadn't been. There had only been two other men in her life before Connal. The first was her high school sweetheart, who was really more of a boy than a man. The second had been a friend of her parents', much older than she and who was, in many ways, more like a father than a lover.

  Then her parents had been killed and she'd been sent to live with her Uncle Jake. Everything changed when she met Connal. For the first time in her life she'd fallen in love. And she had been foolish enough to believe that he loved her too.

  Connal calling her name brought Margaret back to the present. She shifted in her seat to stare at him. “Yes?"

  Connal negotiated a sharp bend in the road. “I asked if you know the Normans?"

  Margaret shook her head in negation. “No."

  Connal glanced in her direction. “You'll like them.” He pulled his gaze back to the road. “They're fine people."

  For once Connal was right in his assumption. Frank Norman was a big man in his early forties. He had a booming voice and a gregarious manner. Trixie Norman was obviously some years younger than her husband. She was small and slim with big brown eyes, a mop of blonde curls and a ready smile. Their two small children, a bright five-year-old boy and a cuddly six-month-old baby girl were the perfect additions to what seemed to be an ideal family.

  The food was delicious and the conversation lively and interesting. By the time the visit was over Margaret had relaxed and forgotten briefly that C.J. Cassidy possibly—no probably, had in his possession tapes that could destroy the safe world that had taken her years to build.

  As they got into the car Connal asked, “Did you enjoy your visit?"

  Why was she reluctant to admit that she had
? “It was all right."

  Connal's mouth pulled into a thin line as he pushed down on the accelerator causing gravel to spin as he sped away.

  She could read his moods so well. He was angry because she refused to admit that she'd enjoyed her visit with the Normans. Let him be, she thought defiantly.

  They were far down the road before Connal spoke again and then it was to question caustically, “Only all right?"

  With a sigh Margaret relented, “I enjoyed the visit. The Normans are friendly and interesting.” She tagged her reluctant admission with a complaining, “Now are you satisfied?"

  Connal turned briefly and flashed her that sexy, scintillating smile. “I'm pleased. It would take more than an unwilling admission from you to satisfy me."

  Did he expect her to ask what she could do to satisfy him? She thought she knew. A tingle danced down her backbone. Damn this man. He had more sex appeal in his little finger than most men had in their entire body. “I will be satisfied when I can know for sure that any tapes C. J. might have made of you and me have been found and destroyed."

  "Will you stop worrying? C. J. won't show those tapes to anyone."

  Margaret's temper flared. “He showed them to you.” She blew air out her mouth before adding, “What if they accidentally fall into the wrong hands?"

  Connal waved one hand. “I'll take care of it. Trust me."

  Margaret wasn't about to make that mistake again. “You should have taken care of it eighteen years ago when you first saw them."

  Clearly Connal's patience was wearing thin. “Will you stop worrying about those damned tapes? They may not even exist anymore."

  Margaret argued, “And again, they may."

  Connal pulled off the farm to market road and onto the highway. “I'll talk to C.J. tonight and call you in the morning."

  Margaret turned to study his handsome face. “Be damn sure you do.” He still had the power to stir her physically. A tilt of his head and her blood heated, he smiled and her pulses raced, he sighed and she melted. No other man, not even Patrick had ever stirred her to such passion or carried her to such heights of ecstasy.

  Patrick—the dear man who had trusted her and loved her and married her against the advice of some of his friends, many of his business associates and all his political advisors. If those tapes fell into the wrong hands his good name would be smeared and dragged through the mud. Suddenly she knew what she had to do. She had to get those tapes and then she had to get Connal Cassidy out of her life and she had to do it as quickly as possible.

  She was so lost in thought that she didn't realize they had pulled into her driveway until Connal said, “You're home."

  Margaret relented a little. “I had a nice time."

  Connal answered, “So did I,” before asking, “When can I see you again?"

  "We will talk about that tomorrow morning when you call to tell me about those tapes.” Margaret reached for the door handle.

  Connal caught her shoulder and pulled her around to face him. Drawing her nearer he let his lips touch hers in a feather of a kiss before whispering against her hair. “Good night, Maggie love. I'll call you tomorrow."

  His sweet assault left Margaret shaking and longing for more. She opened the door and scooted out of the car. “Be damn sure that you do.” Then she remembered she'd be working tomorrow. “Call me at my office. The number's in the book.” She slammed the door hard.

  "Oh, yes.” Connal slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Your husband was so busy being Summerville's most illustrious mayor that I forgot he also owned O'Neil's Lumber & Hardware.” He shot from the driveway like a bullet.

  Margaret had her key in the lock when the door opened from the other side. Felicia stood with her hand on the knob and a look of surprise on her pretty face. “Margaret, you've been holding out on me."

  Margaret moved around Felicia and into the house. “Where's Todd?"

  Felicia shut the front door. “He should be here soon.” Turning she faced her stepmother. “You were out with Connal Cassidy?"

  Margaret wanted to tell her to mind her own business; she decided that in this case discretion might be the better part of valor. “Connal and I are old friends.” She hurried into the living room.

  Felicia followed her. “You never mentioned that to me before."

  Margaret shrugged. “I never had a reason to.” She sped toward the kitchen. “Dinner is made. I just need to put it on the table."

  Felicia was almost stepping on her heels. “I don't believe you. I talked to Connal at the dance and I've called him a several of times since then. He never mentioned knowing you before."

  Margaret turned so abruptly that she and Felicia almost collided. “Why are you calling Connal Cassidy?"

  Felicia stepped back as she shrugged. “The same reason that you went out with him, he's handsome, he's eligible and he's rich but mostly because he's so hot."

  Margaret pulled a chair from the table, sat in it and pointed to the vacant seat across from her. “Sit down, Felicia."

  Felicia dropped into the chair and put her elbows on the table. “Don't tell me you're afraid of a little competition."

  Margaret had never been comfortable in the role of surrogate parent. At times like this she felt completely inadequate. “Felicia, my dear, there is nothing between Connal and me; we are old friends—that's all.” Felicia's raised eyebrows and skeptical expression made her add. “We've known each other since we were children.” That wasn't quite the truth but it was near enough.

  Felicia turned her head to one side and frowned. “You told me that you grew up dirt poor and in the city. How did you come to be friends with a rich country kid like Connal Cassidy?"

  Sometimes Felicia was too damn shrewd. “When my parents were killed I was sent to live with my Uncle Jake, I know you've heard me speak of him."

  Felicia nodded, “Yes, so?"

  "So, Uncle Jake was foreman of C.J. Cassidy's ranch. Connal spent his summers there.” Margaret was stretching the truth and leaving a false impression. She decided that the ends justified the means. “We played together as children,” Some play she thought as she dropped her head, unable to look Felicia in the eye. “Connal was going to the ranch today and he asked me to come along for old time's sake."

  Felicia wrinkled her cute little nose. “I saw him kiss you. Was that for old time's sake too?"

  This interrogation had gone far enough. Margaret lifted her head and straightened her shoulders. “You are prying into things that aren't your concern."

  Before Felicia could respond Todd came through the front door bringing with him a blast of cool air. “Hi. Sorry I'm late."

  Margaret scrambled to her feet. “Dinner will be on the table in a few minutes.” She sped to the kitchen.

  Todd and Felicia followed her. As Todd pulled a chair from the table and sat down, Felicia leaned against the kitchen cabinet and smiled a knowing smile. “Guess who Margaret had a date with?"

  Margaret slammed the refrigerator door. “It wasn't a date.” Her step daughter was being a royal pain. She set a tray of sandwiches on the kitchen table.

  At seventeen Todd O'Neil was tall, thin and awkward. In that gangling inelegance lurked the promise that he would one day become a handsome man. “What are we having for dinner?"

  Felicia laughed maliciously. “Margaret has a boy friend."

  Todd frowned, “Does someone want to tell me what's going on here?"

  Margaret sent Felicia a withering look before sitting down across from Todd. “Felicia seems determined to make a big deal out of me driving out to the Cassidy Ranch with Connal Cassidy."

  Todd asked, “Isn't he the jerk who crashed our Saint Patrick's Day Dance?"

  Felicia sat between Todd and Margaret. “He's the one."

  Even as she spoke Margaret wondered why she felt this pressing need to explain her actions to her step children. “Connal's an old friend. We grew up together."

  Felicia chimed in, “Margaret once li
ved at the Cassidy Ranch.” Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. “Back in those days of yore Connal Cassidy was her playmate."

  Todd was young but he was also shrewd. “So the hunk you've been chasing asked Margaret out and you're jealous."

  Felicia snorted indignantly, “I am not."

  Margaret decided it was time she took command of this situation. After all she was the adult here. “It's time we got a few things straight. I am not dating Connal Cassidy and neither is Felicia, not now and not later. Is that clear?"

  Felicia retorted indignantly, “You can't boss me around. I can date whom I please."

  Margaret held onto her temper. “Connal Cassidy is too old for you."

  Todd intervened with, “So was Flynn Taylor and she got engaged to him."

  Margaret reminded herself that she was dealing with immature teenagers who needed guidance and counseling, not scolding and reprimands. “And Felicia learned from that mistake."

  Todd scoffed, “She didn't learn much. Now she's chasing Connal Cassidy."

  Tears collected in Felicia's eyes. “I don't want to talk about Flynn."

  Margaret replied, “And I don't want to talk about Connal.” Then she remembered that she was the nearest thing to a parent that these two had. She handed Felicia a napkin. “Don't cry sweetie."

  Felicia blotted her eyes. “I'm not crying.” She rolled the napkin into a ball. “Can we eat now? I'm starved."

  Margaret jumped to her feet. “So am I."

  The meal progressed amid talk of trivial matters and without another mention of either Connal or Flynn. But Margaret knew that this problem was not going away.

  After dinner she sat through one horrible horror movie. She wondered, as she watched a vampire sink his fangs into the neck of his young female victim, how this could be considered entertainment. Obviously it entertained Todd and Felicia. They were both leaning forward with their eyes glued to the screen.

  As the movie drew to a close, Todd said, “Now let's watch The Monster That Ate Saint Louis.