A Passion Redeemed (The Daughters of Boston, Book 2)

by Julie Lessman

  On impulse, he reached to take her hand. "You're a good person, Kathleen."

  Her cheeks tinged pink. He smiled. Other than Faith, he had never met anyone who blushed more. He squeezed her hand. "Your family is lucky to have you."

  Sally descended on the table once again, this time with a steaming platter of crubeens. "Okay, the steaks are still sizzling, but here's something to tide you over." She nodded at Kathleen. "You, too, you skinny thing. I'm not delivering your apple tart until you've had your share of these crubeens. Don't let these two have 'em all, ya hear?" She thudded the platter in the center of the table and pushed it toward Kathleen. "You first."

  Kathleen giggled and carefully poked the spicy fried meat with her fork, daintily putting a few sparse pieces on her plate. Bridie huffed and grabbed Kathleen's dish to load it high. "Dear Lord above, the poor girl would starve if we didn't intervene."

  "Thank you, Bridie," Kathleen whispered and nibbled a piece on her fork.

  Mitch let Bridie take her portion, then speared a hunk for himself. His stomach rumbled as the spicy juices rolled across his tongue. He closed his eyes to savor it.

  "Hello, Mitch. I thought you just might be here. Good evening, Bridie."

  The pork lodged at the back of his throat. He began to choke, his napkin over his mouth. Charity slapped him on the back several times. The pork shot into the cloth.

  "Good heavens, you should chew a little more slowly." Charity grinned at Bridie, then nodded at Kathleen. "Don't tell me he made you work until now?"

  Bridie chuckled. "Afraid so. Didn't your sister tell you what a terror he was?"

  "Wh-what are you doing here?" Mitch said, pushing his napkin aside.

  She flashed her killer smile. "Looking for you. We have unfinished business, I believe."

  Bridie's brow lifted a notch while Kathleen stared at her plate.

  The rapid-fire beating of his heart made him irate. Out of pure self-preservation and a touch of meanness, he reached for Kathleen's hand. She startled and looked up, eyes large with surprise. He tightened his hold. "Any business we may have had is finished." He fixed his gaze on Kathleen's face. "And at the moment, I'm very busy."

  He heard Charity's soft intake of breath as he stroked the inside of Kathleen's hand.

  Charity touched his arm. "Mitch, I need to talk to you. Alone. Please?"

  Bridie jumped up and grabbed Kathleen by the sleeve. "Blast it all, I forgot to tell Sally I wanted a bowl of champ on the side. And you said you needed to go to the loo, didn't you? We'll be right back, Mitch."

  Mitch ground his teeth while Bridie dragged Kathleen away.

  Charity's smile was tentative. "May I sit down?"

  He gave her a half -lidded glare. "Like I could stop you?"

  The moment she took off her coat and slid into the booth, he started praying for strength. God help him, she had never looked lovelier-pale blue silk blouse cut with a deep V, enough to hint at the fullness of her breasts if she dared to lean over. And, oh, she dared. Resting her elbows on the table, she bent forward and crossed her arms, the deep V causing him deep pain. The only thing that saved him was the cascade of silky hair that fell down the front of her blouse, only slightly ob scuring temptation. His cheek twitched as he pinned his gaze to her face.

  "What do you want, Charity?" His tone was as stiff as his jaw.

  Her fingers fluttered together while her blue eyes flicked up nervously, feathered with dark lashes. "You know what I want, Mitch. What I've always wanted."

  "It's no good. My interests are elsewhere."

  She bit her lip while a spray of pink fanned her cheeks. "I don't believe that. I know you care for me. And I certainly know you're attracted to me."

  He leaned back in the booth, his eyes hard. "Not anymore. You ended that when you lied. I'm not attracted to women who lie."

  She pressed her hands on the table and leaned forward. "I told him I couldn't see him anymore, that I had promised you. But he begged. Said I'd promised him first ... to go to the theater. And he was right-I had. But it was only to be that one last time, Mitch. To keep my promise, that's all. I'll never see him again. You have my solemn word."

  He cupped the side of his ginger ale and twirled the glass in his hands. He finally took a drink. "Sorry, Charity, but your word is not worth a whole bloomin' lot."

  She caught her breath. Her gaze darted around the room before she leaned in, eyes pleading. "Mitch, let's leave so we can talk ... alone ... please?"

  The muscles in his gut tensed. "Sorry. There's no way on God's green earth I'll ever be alone with you again. You're like a spider, spinning your web, inflicting your poison whenever we're alone, enticing me, weakening me." He shook his head, guzzling more ginger ale. "I'm done, Charity. Go home."

  She straightened her spine, her head high despite tears brimming in her eyes. "All right. I guess you've made yourself perfectly clear. But can I at least trouble you for a ride? I walked."

  He studied her through slitted eyes, willing himself to be cold. "We just ordered. It could be awhile. I'll drop you and Bridie off before I take Kathleen home. You're welcome to wait-at another table."

  She winced and lifted her chin a notch higher. "Is she the one? Where your interests lie?"

  He saw the hurt in her eyes, the fear in her face, and knew he should go easy on her. His jaw tightened as he dropped his gaze to the V-neck blouse. Yeah. Like she went easy on him. "Her name's Kathleen. We were involved before Faith."

  Her composure seemed to crumple before his eyes. When she stood to her feet, she wavered like a colt, palms flat on the booth. "Do you love her?"

  He stared, sick at what he had to do, but there was no other way. "I'm going to marry her."

  Her head lurched up and her eyes blazed with blue fire. "Do you love her?" she rasped, her knuckles clenched white. Several heads turned their way.

  The muscles in his jaw strained, and his heart felt like it was pumping in his throat. He swallowed hard to moisten his mouth. He forced the near lie through his lips. "Yes."

  She slumped forward, as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Her hands dropped to her sides like dead weights. Only then did she lift her chin and straighten her back, her eyes hard and glossy. Without a word, she picked up her coat and slipped out of the booth.

  He grabbed her wrist. "Where are you going? It's late. You need to wait for a ride."

  She yanked her arm free and seared him with a look that grieved him to the core. She wrapped her coat loosely over her shoulders. "No thanks. I'd rather walk."

  He leapt up and pushed her back in the booth. "You're not walking anywhere. You'll wait till I'm good and ready to take you home."

  She jumped back up with hair flying wild and nostrils flaring. "I hate you!" she cried. She lunged at him with fingernails extended. He clutched her wrists. She started kicking and flailing, her protest drawing attention. His blood began to boil.

  With a grunt, he locked her in a vise and bent his mouth hard against her ear. "So help me, Charity, the more you fight, the more it'll hurt."

  "Let me go," she said, her words little more than a hiss.

  "Are you going to behave if I do?"

  She didn't answer.

  He tightened his grip, feeling the pounding of her heart as he locked her against his chest.

  "Yes, you overgrown ape."

  He fought a grin. "Promise. Although we both know your promises aren't worth the air that surrounds them, I'm willing to give you one more chance. Promise you'll settle down and wait for me to take you home."

  He felt her resistance dwindle as she slowly relaxed against his chest. "I promise."

  He softened his hold. All at once, he was painfully aware of every curve of her body, pressed hard against his. Heat infused him, shooting up the back of his neck and into his face. He flung her away, pushing her into the booth, as if his fingers burned at her touch.

  She looked up, almost prone on the seat, her hair and coat splayed behind her. The deep V of that b
louse rose and fell with every hard breath she took. The slightest tilt of a smile shadowed her lips as she arched a perfectly shaped brow. "Why, Mr. Dennehy, I do believe you're blushing."

  He felt the blood gorge his cheeks once again and shoved her farther into the booth. He yanked her coat from beneath her, rolling her to the other side of the seat. He sat down and crammed it between them as if she were a leper. "Charity, so help me, the happiest day of my life will be when you get on that blasted boat."

  She adjusted herself in the seat and picked up a menu, studying it with practiced nonchalance. "No, it won't, Mitch. It will be when you finally admit you're in love with me."

  He put his head in his hands and groaned, massaging his forehead with his fingers. "How many times do I have to tell you that I am not in love with you? I don't even know if I like you.',

  She turned the menu over to study the other side. "Oh, you do. A lot."

  He peered at her out of the corner of his eye, his head still in his hands. "No, I don't."

  She calmly placed the menu on the table and folded her hands. "Your mouth says no, no, no, Mitch, but your body says yes, yes, yes."

  He actually laughed, shaking his head. "You are really something, Charity. A little girl with big delusions."

  She turned in the seat. Her eyes offered a challenge. "I'll prove it. Take me home last."

  "Not on your life."

  "You're scared."

  He laughed again. "You bet I'm scared. I've seen the damage you can do. I'm no fool."

  Her smile faded. "Only when it comes to love-"

  "Uh-hum ... hope you don't mind, Boss, but Kathleen and I ran into some friends by the bar, so we stopped to chat." Bridie descended on the table, allowing Kathleen to scoot in first. She eyed Mitch with a questioning gaze before plopping down. Her eyes flicked from Mitch to Charity and then back again. She leaned forward, her tone a whisper. "I thought you said there wasn't going to be war?"

  He paid Bridie no heed and forced a smile at Kathleen. "Kathleen, this is Faith's sister, Charity." He picked up his ginger ale to take a drink, ignoring Charity altogether. "Charity, this is Kathleen Meyer, my proofreader and all-around assistant."

  Charity extended her hand. Kathleen took it, offering a shy smile in return. "Nice to meet you. Faith and I were great friends. I still miss her."

  Bridie looked up. "Oh, sweet saints above, we're finally going to eat. Sally, where on earth have you been?"

  Sally grunted as she plopped a heavy tray on the table. She scrunched her freckled nose in apology. "Sorry for the wait, but the kitchen's backed up something awful. I keep telling Duffy to turn those blasted men's athletic clubs away, but he's a greedy tyrant, he is. Athletic clubs, my maiden aunt's tush. The only athletics they do is lifting a mug of ale to their traps."

  Sally spotted Charity and stopped unloading the tray. "Now where in the sweet bogs of Blarney did you come from? I'll bet me mother's eyeteeth if I sent you back to put in my tickets, I'd get 'em quick enough. You wantin' to order?"

  "Yes, please, I'd like a glass of your best wine-"

  "No wine. Two more glasses of ginger ale, Sally." Mitch shoved his extra order of apple fritters in front of Charity. He glared, one brow jutted high. "Unless you prefer milk?"

  She iced him with a cool gaze. "Ginger ale will be fine, thank you."

  "Good. You want anything else?" He cut into his steak, feeling his juices begin to flow.

  She sat back in the booth and folded her arms. "Nothing on the menu."

  He popped a slab of meat in his mouth and swallowed, barely chewing. "Good. Enjoy."

  "It was very nice meeting you. I hope we see you again." Kathleen turned to smile over her shoulder at Charity, who sat, arms folded, like a deaf mute in the backseat of Mitch's Model T.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror and grinned. "How was the ride back there?"

  Her lips flattened into a nasty frown. "Wonderful." She wrestled with the back door handle, grunting until it finally swung open. She jumped out and slammed the door hard, rattling the chassis. She leaned in on Kathleen's side with a sour smile on her face. "Thanks for the ride. Kathleen, it was nice meeting you too."

  Mitch leaned forward and grinned. "Always a pleasure, Charity."

  "I wish I could say the same."

  He chuckled. "Give Mima and your grandmother my love, will you?"

  If looks were lethal, he'd be dead on the spot.

  "I'll do that," she said in a sugary tone. "And I'll be sure to tell Rigan as well."

  The smile hardened on his face. "You're a fool, Charity."

  Kathleen spun around. "Mitch!"

  "No, Kathleen, he's right. I have been a fool. But that's about to change." Her gaze shifted from Mitch to Kathleen. "I understand congratulations are in-"

  Mitch jerked forward, the muscles in his jaw tensing. "Charity!"

  She stopped midsentence, a flicker of pain in her eyes. She swallowed hard and forced a smile. "What I meant was, Mitch tells me you're a godsend in the office. Congratulations for being one of the few women in the world who can make him happy."

  He exhaled slowly, unaware that he'd been holding his breath.

  Charity flashed a pretty smile. "And, I suppose, congratulations are in order all around."

  He stopped breathing again.

  "How's that?" Kathleen asked, her face as innocent as an angel in the lamplight.

  Charity's features hardened, belied by an almost imperceptible trembling of her jaw. She bit down on her lip and tossed her head as if she hadn't a care in the world. "Why, I'm getting married."

  Kathleen caught her breath.

  So did Mitch. Only he was pretty sure his wasn't kicking in anytime soon. It was lost, plunged somewhere between constricted lungs and the pit of his stomach.

  "Oh, Charity, that's wonderful news! Who's the lucky man?" Kathleen leaned on the door, her hands clasped like a little girl.

  "Why, Rigan Gallagher, of course." She stared straight at Mitch with a lift of her chin. "He's been hounding me for months, you know, but I've been putting him off. Somehow, I've run out of reasons to say no."

  Mitch's stomach jerked as if he'd been kicked. He clenched hard, first his teeth and then the steering wheel, desperate to keep himself from leaping out of the car and shaking some sense into her. Instead, he yanked the throttle lever to give the car gas, then spit out the first thing on the tip of his tongue. "Charity, you're a fool. You deserve everything you get."

  Kathleen whirled around. "Mitch, what in the world is wrong with you?"

  He rammed the floor lever way too fast, grinding the engine. Muttering under his breath, he fixed Charity with a threatening glare. "Nothing's wrong with me, Kathleen. I've never been better. Regrettably, I can't say the same for her." He shot a quick look in the rearview mirror and lurched the car away from the curb. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he shouted.

  He slammed hard on the pedal to shift from low to high speed. His jaw ached from pressure all the way down Ambrose Lane until the car screeched around the corner. He swore under his breath and punched the side of the door with his fist. "Brainless woman." He glanced at Kathleen out of the corner of his eye and began massaging the bridge of his nose. "Sorry."

  "I already know you have a temper, Mitch. What I don't know is what's going on."

  He blew out a loud breath. "Nothing's going on. At least, not anymore."

  "She's in love with you, isn't she?"

  "It's not important."

  "It is to me," she whispered softly.

  He sighed. "Yes. Or so she says."

  "Bridie guesses you're in love with her."

  He muttered under his breath again. He risked a quick look at Kathleen, but shadows hid her face. "Bridie needs a blasted muzzle. And a compass. Her guesses are way off."

  Kathleen looked away and remained silent, hands folded in her lap.

  Mitch took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "You look very pretty tonight."

  She didn't move. "What's
going on, Mitch?"

  "I already told you, nothing's go-"

  She turned. "Between you and me. Why now? Out of the blue?"

  He veered onto her street too quickly, the squeal of the tires piercing the sanctity of the still night. He killed the engine and faced her, grateful for the dark. "Kathleen, I ... well, you know when ... well, when Faith left, so did my interest in women." He laughed, the sound of it bitter. "In fact, pretty much everything left. My appetite, my sleep ..." He reached out to take her hand in his. "My passion."

  She tugged her hand free and tucked it in her lap. She stared straight ahead while the muscles worked in her throat. "Mitch, I think you know I love you. I've never stopped loving you. But when Faith came, she didn't just change your life, she changed mine too."

  He shifted uncomfortably in the seat. "I know I hurt you, Kathleen. I'm sorry-"

  "No, that's not what I mean. Yes, you wounded me when you fell in love with Faith, but I always expected it. I knew you never loved me. I was simply convenient."

  He reached out to take her hand again, but she pulled it away. He swallowed. "Kathleen, I'm sorry. I didn't know how to love anyone back then. Not until Faith."

  She took a deep breath. "Let me finish, please. What I mean is, before ... when I gave myself to you, it was because I loved you and it felt right. I did it for you ... and for me. But Faith taught me otherwise. She introduced me to a faith in God that is more than I ever knew before. More than I thought existed. A relationship and devotion that compels me to live for him, following his precepts with all of my heart and soul." She pivoted in the seat to face him dead-on. "What we had before, it was wrong. As much as I loved you-and still do-it was wrong. Hear me, Mitch. Never again will I be a convenient outlet for you or your passion."

  He blinked. The eyes were the same gentle brown, the voice still soft and halting, but the spirit inside the woman he thought he'd known was different. He took her hand. This time she didn't pull away. "Kathleen, Faith changed both of us. I can't express how sorry I am for all the times I took advantage of you, hurt you. Believe me, I've sought God's forgiveness, and now I'm seeking yours. Trust me, I have no intention of ever hurting you-or God-like that again."