He sat back and stared at her.
Because ever since Friday night he’d been telling himself that what was between them was purely physical. That his sense of contentment the past two days was due to long overdue sexual satiation and because he and Brett really did seem to be connecting, as evidenced by their great time at last night’s Celtics game.
He’d refused to ask any questions about—much less assign any significance to—his postcoital suspicion that Colleen had never been with any man but him.
And he certainly hadn’t acknowledged that in just two weeks he’d come to feel more at home in her modest apartment than he ever had in his own swank penthouse—or anywhere else he’d ever lived.
But now…despite the wrong she’d done him in the past, he could no longer deny there was something special about her, something that drew him to her in a way that he’d never been drawn to another woman.
But that wasn’t all. There was also the fact that even with him guarding himself against her, in a ridiculously short period of time she’d still managed to breach the substantial wall of defense he’d built around his heart.
The wall she’d brought down once before, only to abandon him, leaving him empty, defenseless and hurting. The one he’d subsequently spent years fortifying and wasn’t at all certain he cared to surrender now.
The hell of it was, he realized as he stared at her unguarded face, he wasn’t certain he had a choice in the matter anymore.
“Damn, Colleen,” he said hoarsely. “What are you trying to do to me?”
Seven
Colleen stared at Gavin’s inexplicably grim expression. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure… I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
Abruptly he sighed. “Of course you don’t. Oh, hell, I didn’t mean…” He trailed off as if needing a moment to collect himself. When he spoke again, his voice was steady. “Do you trust me, Colleen?”
She felt a rush of relief, since the answer to that was easy. If there was one thing her years spent striving to do God’s work had taught her, it was that when it came to putting one’s faith in other people, the potential for reward was well worth the potential risk.
Besides, this was Gavin, whom she’d loved for such a very long time, and believed in even before that. “Yes.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Thank God,” he said softly.
She did her best to give him a few seconds before inquiring, “But why are you asking? What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” he said instantly, opening his eyes. “It’s me. If anyone screwed up, it was me.” To her consternation, he rose to his feet and held out his hand. “Come here. Please.”
Questions surfaced in her like weeds popping up in a garden after a good rain. Yet instinct told her it was somehow important that she stay silent and simply follow his lead. Taking his proffered hand, she stood and compliantly let him usher her out of the living room, down the hall and into her cozy but dark bedroom.
He reached over and switched on the table lamp.
Encircled by the resulting pool of light, they considered each other. It was so quiet the only sound was their not-entirely-steady breathing.
“Gavin—”
“Shh. Don’t talk.” He pressed a finger to her lips, then without warning toed off his shoes and shrugged out of his sweater and T-shirt. Her heart began to thump. “Friday night,” he said quietly, tossing his clothes to the floor. “I thought… I was pretty preoccupied. It didn’t occur to me that you’d never made love before. But you hadn’t, had you?”
There was enough self-disgust in his voice that for a moment she was tempted to lie. Except that their gazes were locked and she knew she’d never pull it off. She shook her head. “No,” she reluctantly admitted.
“That’s what I thought.”
“But it didn’t matter,” she protested. Surely he knew that she’d loved every moment of everything they’d done that night. “It doesn’t matter. It was wonderful—”
“Yeah, it does matter,” he contradicted, cutting her off. He undid the fly of his jeans, slid down the zipper and shucked off the rest of his clothes. “Because if I’d known, I’d have done things differently. For instance…”
He stepped so close that despite her clothes she could feel the heat radiating off him. Then he bent his head and began to lazily forge a link of kisses from her temple to her jaw. “I would’ve gone a whole lot slower.” His tongue rimmed her ear, making her shiver. “I would’ve taken my time and made sure of your pleasure.”
“Oh, but you did—”
“No. Maybe later. But not that first time.” Deftly he unbuttoned her blouse and peeled it away, then managed to relieve her of the rest of her garments while also continuing the delicious torture he was inflicting with his mouth.
“I should’ve taken the time to tell you how much I love your breasts. The way they fit into my hands—” he cupped her “—the pale pink color of these—” his thumbs rubbed circles over her tightly beaded nipples “—the way they pucker at my touch.”
“Oh, my gosh…” she said weakly.
“And then there’s the way your waist curves in.” His palms slid down her sides, his thumbs tracing her midline and the dip of her navel, gliding lower until only the tips of his little fingers rested against the lowest curve of her hips. “You’re so damn delicate, Colleen. It turns me on.”
“Gavin—”
He ignored her breathless little protest and feasted at the curve of her throat with his lips. Feeling as malleable as modeling clay, she let her head fall back to give him better access.
“So does the smoothness of your skin.” His voice was a deep rasp abrading her nerve endings. “And how fast you get wet when I touch you here.” With one finger he parted the dark curls between her thighs and stroked her.
She shuddered, her body feeling exquisitely overloaded. “Don’t,” she murmured weakly even though she was certain she’d die if he actually stopped now. “You shouldn’t… I can’t… It feels too… Oh, my, too…”
“Good?” he supplied. “I know, baby,” he whispered, resting his damp forehead against her flushed skin. “Believe me, I know.”
Even so, that didn’t stop him from suddenly moving away.
“Gavin!” she wailed, her lashes fluttering up at the rude discovery that the only thing more excruciating than his teasing touch was the lack of it.
“Easy,” he soothed, catching her by the wrist and drawing her with him as he backed toward the bed. “Hang on just a second. I promise you won’t regret it.”
His calves bumped against the side of the mattress and he sat. Then, before she completely understood what he intended, he was lifting her up. Laying back, he brought her down on him, impaling her on the silky thrust of his erection.
The sheer pleasure of it stole her breath.
But that didn’t begin to compare with the joy that swept her as she looked down at his face. Because for a few seconds his expression was completely unguarded, allowing her to see the fierce tenderness, the intense emotion stamped on his features.
It gave her hope for the future. And the courage to follow her instincts.
Reaching down, she twined her fingers in his, glorying in the strength of his powerful body. She met him halfway as he thrust upward into her, feeling herself getting lost in his gaze, feeling a compelling need to commit to memory every inch of his handsome, precious face.
Perfectly matched, they increased their pace. As they rocked together, their bodies coming together each time a little faster, a little harder, Colleen felt a rising pleasure that belonged to them alone.
Clamping down on her lower lip, she struggled to hold back, wanting to wait for him, wanting them to come together.
And then the moment came. With a strangled gasp he freed his hands and grasped her hips, pressing her down at the same time that his back hollowed and his body bucked. He surged upward, his whole body straining as he pumped himself into her, filling her w
ith his seed.
Pleasure overtook her. Crying out, she gave herself up to the waves of sensation crashing through her. And finally gave voice to her heart.
“I love you,” she whispered, tears of happiness filling her eyes as he locked his arms around her and cradled her close and she heard the reassuring thump of his heart against her ear. “I love you, Gavin. I always have. And I always will.”
“I must say, I had no idea Elliot Sutherland once had a hotel in addition to the Independence,” Colleen’s father said before taking another sip of his after-dinner coffee. Setting the thin porcelain cup down on its platinum-ribbed saucer, he absentmindedly traced the outline of one of the finely embroidered flowers that adorned the Irish-linen tablecloth.
“And in Phoenix, of all places. But it certainly turned into a piece of luck for us that he did—and that he sent you to work there, Gavin. A pepper is the last thing I’d have suspected would be used to ruin gelato. Your experience and quick thinking helped save the day. If I failed to say it before, thank you.”
“There’s really no need, sir,” Gavin replied, looking totally at ease as he lounged back in his chair at the long, burled-walnut table. “As the saying goes, I just happened to be in the right place at the right time—and the person to think of it first.”
“You’re being too modest, but I can see I’m making you uncomfortable, so we’ll drop the subject for the moment. Why don’t you tell me, instead, about this rumor I hear that you may be acquiring the old Commodore Hotel up on the North Shore?”
It was Gavin’s turn to look impressed. “How did you learn about that? No one’s supposed to know except my banker and my CFO.”
“You get to be my age and you’re bound to have a few inside sources,” the older man said with a twinkle in his eye. “Although, if you don’t mind a word of advice, you might suggest to your banker that he could use a more discreet assistant.”
Gavin nodded. “You can bet I will. First thing tomorrow morning.”
Listening with half an ear as the two men she cared for most in the world continued to talk business, Colleen wondered if it was possible to be too happy.
The past few days had been some of the most carefree and enjoyable of her life. The mentoring program, though still in its early stages, was going exceedingly well. And then, just yesterday, she’d had a very interesting talk with Mr. Crypinski regarding Brett.
There was also her ever-increasing closeness to Gavin, which figured heavily into her contentment. He’d spent every night at her place since Sunday, and though they were both on their best behavior and she knew that at some point they were going to have to address the hurt she sensed he still harbored regarding their past, in every other way their relationship was better now than it had been then.
And though she thought that was mainly because they were finally adults, she also had to admit there were times when her heart felt so childishly light it wouldn’t have surprised her if it had taken flight like an untethered helium balloon.
Giving her arm a gentle squeeze, her sister Gina claimed her attention. Leaning close, she whispered, “Congratulations. I was afraid that by dropping in unannounced—and as Mom made quite clear, uninvited—Joe and I were intruding on your big moment. But honestly, Colleen, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You and your beautiful Irishman.” She inclined her head at Gavin. “It looks like Daddy likes him. And so does Mom, for that matter.”
Colleen involuntarily sneaked a quick glance at her mother and with a surge of relief saw that Gina seemed to be right. Moira was listening thoughtfully to the men’s conversation, nodding from time to time when she agreed with something and appearing surprisingly content.
“As for the two of you,” Gina went on, a rare teasing note entering her voice, “you’re a little scary. Every time you look at each other you glow like a pair of floodlights.”
Colleen bit down hard on her lower lip at the burst of laughter that wanted desperately to escape. Not until she was sure it was corralled did she turn her head to glance warningly at her sister. “You little brat. Knock it off.”
“Why, Colleen Barone.” The younger woman did her best to look innocently bewildered. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“You know very well,” Colleen admonished. “No more poetic images. Please. Not tonight.”
“Oh, all right.”
She returned her gaze to the men, but not before she caught her sister’s laughter-laced whisper, “Spoilsport.”
Her lips quivered so much that it was a moment before she could focus on the conversation. When she finally did, it was at almost the same instant that she sensed Gina coming to attention beside her.
“What did you just say, Dad?” Baronessa’s VP of marketing and PR demanded to know.
Her father glanced over at her, his expression mild but unyielding at the same time. “Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart. I was just remarking to Gavin that we could use a little help with public relations at the moment. And he was saying that he has a friend, a young man named Flint Kingman—” Carlo glanced at Gavin to confirm he had the name right, and Gavin inclined his head “—who specializes in just this kind of corporate damage control.”
Joe, who was sitting across the table next to Gavin, nodded, ignoring Gina’s suddenly stormy expression. “I’ve heard of him,” he said, addressing his remarks to the other two men. “Doesn’t he have a reputation of being a kind of a wonder boy when it comes to controlling the media?”
With an apologetic look at Gina, Gavin nodded. “Yes, he does. In general he’s very good at whatever he puts his mind to.”
“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind, then, if I had my secretary call yours tomorrow for his phone number?” Carlo inquired.
“By all means,” Gavin said courteously.
With a gesture that was all the more ominous for its very deliberateness, Gina pushed away her plate and dropped her napkin beside it. With an impatient shove to her chair, she stood. “Could I see you in the library, please, Father?”
With the faintest of sighs, Carlo nodded. “Of course, Gina. If you’ll excuse us?” he said to the others.
Everyone nodded except Joe, who stood, instead. “Since this is about Baronessa business, I think I’ll come, too, if it’s all the same to you, Papa.”
“Certainly.” Looking just the slightest bit harried, Carlo quickly shook hands with Gavin and thanked him for coming to dinner, came around the table to give Colleen a buss on the cheek and whisper in her ear that he loved her, then marched in the direction of the library with his other two children in tow.
“Well,” Moira, always the perfect hostess, said brightly into the sudden silence. “That was rather awkward, wasn’t it? I do apologize for Gina’s behavior, Gavin. Sometimes she can be very strong-willed. I must confess I simply don’t understand from whom in the family she gets it.”
“Yes, of course,” Gavin murmured politely. He glanced at Colleen, then in quick succession at the door and his watch, his expression carefully neutral.
“Did I mention I have an early staff meeting, Mother?” Colleen said quickly. “We really should be go—”
“Oh, nonsense.” Moira waved one elegant hand. “I haven’t even served dessert yet.”
“I’m sorry, but we really can’t stay.”
Moira hesitated the merest instant, then nodded graciously. “Very well. If you can’t, you can’t. But at least let your Mr. O’Sullivan finish his coffee. Surely you have time for that, darling?”
Colleen softened. As crazy as her mother sometimes made her, she knew the older woman’s heart was in the right place; like most parents, Moira simply wanted what was best for her children—regardless if it was what they wanted. “Of course.”
“Oh, good.” Smiling, Moira turned up the charm, and the next ten minutes passed quickly.
Finally, however, Colleen motioned to Gavin and rose. “Thank you so much for having us,
Mother,” she said sincerely. “Dinner was wonderful, as always.”
The three of them started toward the entry, stopping briefly at the hall closet so Gavin and Colleen could retrieve their coats.
“She’s right, Mrs. Barone,” Gavin said graciously. “If you ever decide you want a job, come see me. You’d be a draw in any of my kitchens.”
“Why, thank you, dear.” Moira smiled, her beautiful eyes alight. “But I think I’d probably better stay around here. Although he’d never admit it, Carlo wouldn’t last a day without me to look after him.”
“His gain is my loss,” Gavin said gallantly as they reached the front door.
Moira seemed to consider him for a moment, then reached out and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I just want to say…I was wrong about you, Gavin.”
Although his pleasant expression didn’t change, Colleen didn’t miss the thread of tension suddenly drawing him tight. “Were you?” he inquired politely. “In what way?”
“Despite your unfortunate background and all my dire predictions, you’ve grown up into a fine man, just as Colleen always claimed you would. I do hope you know it was never you personally that I objected to. It’s just…Carlo always had such dreams about Colleen entering the religious life, and you both were so young. I hope you can see your way clear to understand that we simply wanted something different for our daughter.
“And really, I’m sure if you’ll take a little time to reflect, you’ll see that in some ways we did you a favor. After all, surely you wouldn’t have felt nearly the drive to succeed that you obviously have if you’d married Colleen. And at least now you can honestly claim that the success you’ve had is your own.”
Gavin’s expression was so rigid by now that Colleen thought it was a miracle he could talk. “You’re one hundred percent right about that, Mrs. Barone. Good night.”
Assisting Colleen down the outside stairs with a hand to her shoulder, he walked tensely beside her to the Porsche, unlocked the passenger door and waited as she climbed in. Then he carefully shut the door, walked around the hood and slid into the driver’s seat.
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