Rival's Challenge

by Abby Green

  Immediately Orla’s ire melted away, replaced with shock and concern. ‘No! What’s wrong with him? How do you know? What happened?’

  It was only when Antonio was explaining about sending someone to check on him and that they’d found him collapsed in his home that Orla realised he’d somehow manoeuvred her so that she was now in the back of his car, with her bag on her lap, and they were driving away from the hotel which looked out over the stormy Atlantic sea.

  Her eyes snapped back to Antonio. ‘Of all the rotten, manipulative—’

  Antonio sat back looking smug. But even now Orla couldn’t rest until she knew for sure. ‘Is he being looked after?’

  Antonio nodded. ‘By my own physician. He wasn’t feeling well, and then he had a fall at home. Nothing is broken, but he needs to be monitored. It could be the end of his time at the hotel though.’

  Orla felt a sadness that was disproportionate to her affection for the old man. Guilt lanced her. How could she be feeling sorrier for herself when the culprit of her pain was right beside her and confusing her with his behaviour?

  She didn’t like how Antonio’s obvious concern for their aged employee made her feel soft inside. Tender. Vulnerable.

  The air seemed to grow thick between them. Heavy with unspoken things and physical awareness. Orla’s hands literally itched to reach out and place them somewhere, anywhere, on his body.

  She looked away from temptation, out the window at the familiar green countryside, and stayed tense enough to break until they arrived at Kerry Airport, where a small jet was waiting.

  He seemed determined to furnish her with no more information until they got to London and so Orla stayed quiet too, afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she opened it. Afraid of what had come out the last time.

  When they arrived in London, another car was waiting for them and whisked them into the city. Orla battled déjà vu to think of the similar journey last week when she’d felt so empty and desolate. Now she felt as if her nerves were too sensitive after being in the relative peace and solitude of the west of Ireland.

  Just then she noticed that they weren’t going in the right direction for the hotel, or his. They were heading in the opposite direction.

  ‘Hey …’ She turned to Antonio, eyes narrowed. ‘Where are we going?’

  He actually looked nervous and Orla reeled. She didn’t think that Antonio Chatsfield would even understand the concept of being nervous, never mind look it. ‘We’re taking a small diversion.’

  Orla felt nervous herself now. Butterflies jumping around her belly. She could see that they were in and around the upmarket Notting Hill area. The butterflies increased.

  Antonio’s face was as impassive as a stone. She felt sick to recall how she’d confided in him about looking at houses on her days off. How he’d teased her.

  They were on a wide leafy road now, dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. Tall houses on either side. It was one of Notting Hill’s most exclusive streets. Antonio’s car pulled up outside an elegant four-storey town house, steps leading up to a classy dark blue front door. Mentally, Orla was already repainting it a rich dark grey.

  Her insides were jumping around, a knot in her belly. She looked at Antonio, a question in her eyes. He just said, ‘Bear with me, a few minutes longer.’

  He got out of the car and came around and opened Orla’s door, putting out a hand. Orla hesitated for a few seconds before allowing herself to touch him. A shiver of longing went through her body when his big hand enclosed hers.

  He pulled her out and led her up the steps. To her surprise he had a key and opened the door, leading her in. Stunned, Orla followed him into the long ornately tiled hall, off which were two huge reception rooms. The rooms were empty, clearly waiting for someone—new owners?—to fill them with furniture.

  A ball of emotion was growing in Orla’s chest. She was afraid to look at Antonio and so she let him lead her around silently, showing her the huge kitchen-cum-den area in the basement which led out through French doors to a beautiful landscaped garden stretching all the way back to a small copse of trees.

  In the basement there was also a gym and a vast utility area. And a playroom. Upstairs there were five bedrooms and an attic space that could be used as an office or another bedroom. Numerous bathrooms. The stunning master bedroom had a palatial en-suite bathroom and two dressing rooms attached. It was also empty but for a massive undressed bed. Orla flushed when she saw it, her hand going immediately sweaty in Antonio’s, but when she tried to pull away he wouldn’t let her.

  When they came back down to the reception rooms, Orla was feeling shaky. She finally took her hand from his and stood back, feeling wobbly. ‘What is this, Antonio?’

  ‘I need to clarify something I said earlier … before we go any further.’

  Orla just looked at him.

  Taking a deep breath, Antonio told her, ‘When I told you that we, meaning the Chatsfields, had decided to invest in the Kennedy Group rather than take it over, it wasn’t entirely accurate.’

  Orla crossed her arms over her chest, battling the simmering butterflies in her gut.

  ‘The more accurate version is that it’s a personal investment from me. I was afraid if you knew you wouldn’t come with me.’

  Orla’s arms tightened, and she gasped. ‘You? Alone?’

  He nodded. She was stunned. ‘But … why? What about your sister? What about improving the Chatsfield brand?’

  Antonio’s mouth firmed and Orla had to stop her mind from straying to wanting to feel that mouth on hers.

  ‘The truth is that I took an executive decision to do this myself. My sister is incommunicado, but I’ll deal with her when she reappears, and if she still wants to take over a hotel chain I’m sure there are plenty of others I can steer her towards.’

  Orla was feeling increasingly disorientated. ‘But … why?’ she asked again.

  Antonio’s eyes were dark. ‘Because I know how much it means to you. Because, to be quite frank, the Kennedy Group ethos doesn’t exist without you there. And apart from that, it’s a very viable business investment. The Kennedy Group has the potential to grow once again and become even stronger than it ever was, in the right hands. Your father has increased your shares so that you have equal, if not more, say than he does in the day-to-day running of things.’

  Orla blanched.

  Antonio sounded grim. ‘It was part of the deal, that you had to have more power.’

  The thought that this man had laid that out, when her own father had never seen fit to acknowledge her role, made her feel ridiculously vulnerable and exposed. Still reeling, Orla asked a little belligerently, ‘And what’s your stake in it all?’

  Antonio’s face took on a stern regard. ‘Forty per cent.’

  Orla’s belly quivered. ‘So we would be … partners.’

  He nodded. ‘Yes. As any investor would have been.’

  Orla felt constricted all of a sudden, the thought of Antonio being in her day-to-day life, for the foreseeable future … that he’d had the temerity to go behind her back and seek more power for her—it was too much to take in.

  She backed away a little, terrified of the direction her wayward thoughts wanted to travel, down dangerous roads, flights of fancy. ‘You really think that it’s a good idea that we work together? You left your own family business behind a long time ago….’

  Her mouth pursed. She had to stop herself from reminding him that only a few days ago they’d said goodbye and yet this would mean … the opposite. She couldn’t even let her mind grasp that right now. It was too dangerous.

  ‘Pardon me if I fail to believe that you suddenly want to immerse yourself in that world again.’

  Antonio’s jaw clenched. A muscle throbbed. ‘Ask me why I’m showing you this house, Orla.’

  Suddenly Orla didn’t want to. It felt like the most loaded question in the universe. But Antonio was a huge immovable force. And she refused to show him how intimidated she was.


  She steeled herself. Pretending like she didn’t care what his answer would be. ‘Why are you showing me this house?’

  He was quiet for a long time and then he finally said, ‘Because … I want to buy it for you.’

  Hope flared so bright inside Orla that she felt dizzy before she clamped down on it ruthlessly. He was just playing with her. And she’d unwittingly given him the key to the most vulnerable part of her. He just wanted her, nothing more.

  Unable to keep a slight tremor of emotion from her voice and hating herself for it, Orla said, ‘You know, most men give a woman a diamond bracelet or flowers. This is taking it a bit far, don’t you think? After all, we were only together for, what? Two, three weeks? Or maybe you want to set me up in some convenient location?’

  Antonio’s eyes flashed and his jaw tightened, but he just said, ‘Do you like the house, Orla?’

  The ball of emotion got bigger in her chest. Getting angry now, she answered, ‘Do I like the house?’

  She threw her arms open, feeling prickly, vulnerable and reckless. ‘This house is my dream come to life! Is that it, Antonio? You’re not quite finished showing me how easily you can dominate my life? Now you want to set me up so you can come and go as you please?’

  His eyes flashed again but with something far more ambiguous this time. Something hot. Biting her lip, Orla turned away, her eyes prickling ominously.

  From behind her she heard him say, ‘I want to buy this house for you.’

  She couldn’t face him again. Tears were starting to fill her eyes in earnest now. This was torture. Swallowing the lump the size of her throat, she said thickly, ‘That’s really not necessary, Antonio. I can buy my own house if I really want to and I have no interest in becoming a mistress—’

  He cut her off. ‘But if I do buy the house for you it comes with a condition.’

  Her heart was aching. ‘Antonio, like I said, I really don’t want to—’

  ‘The condition is that I come with the house.’

  She stopped dead. Her heart thumped. Had she just heard …? She turned around slowly, vision slightly blurry. Antonio had that look on his face again. Nervous.

  ‘What did you just say?’

  He came closer and she couldn’t move.

  ‘I said, if I buy this house … it comes with me attached. Because I want to live here with you.’

  His mouth twisted. ‘I don’t want you as my mistress. I want to create a life together. Because this past week is the last time that I want to spend more than a night apart from you.’

  Orla wasn’t breathing. She could only see two pools of dark brown. Glowing. Intense.

  ‘Because,’ he continued, ‘I love you, Orla Kennedy, and I don’t want to be rootless any more. I knew I loved you last week but I was the biggest emotional coward on this earth and I couldn’t face up to it. Quite simply, I’d prefer to endure the torture I did when I was a soldier, for the rest of my life, rather than spend another moment without you, because without you I feel as if I’m unravelling at the seams.’

  His words washed through her and sank in slowly. His gaze was unwavering, speaking volumes. She saw it in his eyes. The emotion Orla had locked away in her gut broke free, spreading outwards, obliterating doubt and fear in its path.

  She bridged the gap between them, curling her hands around the lapels of Antonio’s jacket, the heat of his body surrounding her, telling her that she wasn’t dreaming. She looked up at him and said huskily, ‘What took you so damn long, Chatsfield?’

  He was serious. ‘What took me so long is that I’m terrified, of the things I’ve seen and done. I know that something broke inside me a long time ago, and it was only when I was with you that I started to feel whole again. But I’m scared too … of the darkness.’

  Orla felt dizzy with the tenderness rushing through her. She put her hand to Antonio’s cheek, feeling the bristle of his stubble against the tender skin of her palm.

  ‘If you’ll let me … I’ll help you. We can do this together. You deserve happiness, Antonio. You deserve to lay those ghosts to rest and to live a life.’

  Her heart clenched tight when she saw the brightness in his eyes.

  ‘That’s what I want. A life, with you.’

  Orla reached up and pressed a kiss to his mouth, her heart overflowing. ‘Then you have it, my love.’

  She saw his expression change, felt his body tighten. ‘You love me?’

  She smiled but could have wept at the insecurity in his eyes. ‘In case it’s not completely obvious, I fell for you somewhere along the way between that first night and right now. And I’m still falling for you.’ Simply, with quiet fervent conviction, she said, ‘I love you.’

  Antonio’s hands framed Orla’s face; they were shaking. ‘Thank God. I love you so much…. This week was …’

  Orla turned her head and pressed a kiss to Antonio’s palm and covered his hand with hers. She looked up into his eyes, emotion making her voice thick as she finished for him. ‘Agony.’

  Antonio emitted something guttural, elemental, and then his mouth was on hers, passionate and bruising, and Orla matched it. Stretching up, twining her arms around his neck, pressing as close as she could.

  Desire exploded between them. Antonio broke away to say roughly, ‘I sacrificed my youth for my family and it ruined my relationship with my father and my brothers and sisters. And then I ran as far away as I could … and I didn’t stop running until I laid eyes on you. I’ve ached for you … my whole life.’

  Shakily she said, ‘I was running too, away from myself … I need you so much.’

  Tears filled Orla’s eyes and Antonio saw them and looked panicked. ‘Don’t cry. Please. When you cried last week, it nearly killed me.’

  Orla managed a watery smile. ‘Then hurry up and do something to distract me.’

  Sounding grim, Antonio said, ‘The bed … upstairs.’

  He was already tugging Orla from the room and excitement made her blood hum with anticipation, even as something struck her. ‘But what if someone comes?’

  Antonio glanced back and looked mildly sheepish. ‘They won’t. I took a gamble and already bought the house.’

  Orla’s heart leapt but she feigned indignance as he pulled her into the master bedroom. ‘And what if I’d said I hated the house?’

  Antonio stopped and turned to face Orla, taking her face in his hands again. ‘Then I would have kept buying houses and showing them to you until you found the one you liked.’

  Breathless, because Antonio was taking off his jacket and his hands were on her shirt now, Orla said, ‘That’s not very economical in these straitened times.’

  Antonio said something rude about the economy and stripped off Orla’s shirt, his cheeks flushing to see her lace-covered breasts. He looked at her, slightly tortured for a moment, and he cursed. ‘I wanted to do this properly, but I look at you and I forget …’

  He got down on one knee then and Orla’s heart leapt, again. At this rate she was close to having a heart attack. He found his jacket and pulled a box from a pocket. A small velvet box.

  He gazed up at her and opened the box to reveal a beautiful solitaire diamond ring set in a wide band of smaller diamonds.

  ‘Orla Kate Kennedy … will you please marry me?’

  Too shocked and stunned and overcome to cry, Orla just nodded stupidly … finally managing to say huskily, ‘Yes, Antonio Marco Chatsfield, I’ll marry you.’

  Antonio pushed the ring onto Orla’s finger, where it glittered brilliantly, but she was too intent on getting Antonio back where she wanted him to inspect it. She pulled him up and pressed her mouth to his, revelling in his hands moving over her, divesting her of her clothes, and his, until they were both naked and fell in a tangle of bronzed and pale limbs, onto the bed.

  Orla thought of something and speared her fingers in Antonio’s hair, dragging his head back up from her breast. They were both breathless. ‘Do you mind if I don’t change my name?’

 
Antonio frowned. ‘Why would I mind if you didn’t change your name?’

  Orla smiled. ‘I like the sound of Kennedy-Chatsfield.’

  Antonio smiled too. ‘Maybe I’ll change my name.’

  Orla rolled her eyes. ‘Just the thing to welcome your family back into your life.’

  Sounding a little hoarse, Antonio said, ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  Orla’s hands cupped his face. ‘It means that I’m here for you no matter what. And sooner or later you’re going to get in touch with your brothers and sisters and let them know you’re back.’

  Orla could see the emotion in his eyes. How much it meant to him to hear her say that. He pressed a kiss to her mouth, soft, lingering. And then Orla moved over him so that she lay sprawled over his body, her thighs either side of his hips, the heart of her body almost touching the head of his erection.

  Antonio felt emotion obliterating the last vestiges of darkness inside him.

  This was the last bastion, the image he’d never really allowed himself to even envisage, believing himself to be too dark and twisted inside.

  He pushed some vibrant red hair over her pale shoulder and pressed a kiss there before gazing deep into those sapphire eyes. His chest expanded and before he could say anything Orla put a finger to his lips, and with her eyes shining suspiciously bright, she said, ‘Yes, at least two. A boy and a girl, but I don’t really care about that as long as they’re healthy and look like you….’

  They shared a look of such communion and intensity Antonio felt as if he’d come just from looking at her, but before he did, he joined their bodies and showed her without words all of the emotion in his heart, for her.

  EPILOGUE

  Three years later

  ‘DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA!’

  Orla gave up trying to keep a hold of her wriggling eighteen-month-old daughter, Ashling, when she reacted with predictable glee to seeing her favourite person in the world.

  She smiled wryly at the padded bottom waddling in her cute romper suit as the sturdy body fell headlong into the safe hands of her adoring father.