The theater was crowded and Ryan ushered her to the door, his hand firm at the small of her back. She looked up with a smile, which locked on her lips. Her heart sank as she stared.
Kathleen was making her way through the crowd. "Charity? Is that you?"
Charity managed a tenuous smile. "Kathleen, hello! Are you here with Mitch?"
Kathleen looked over her shoulder to scan the crowd. "Yes, he's purchasing a program."
Charity tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. She glanced at Kathleen's hand. "And are you. . . "
"No, not yet. The wedding's July twelfth." She searched again and then waved.
Everything in Charity's body ceased for a split second-air, pulse, reason. She had no problem picking him out of the crowd. He stood a head taller than every man there, the slight scowl giving him away as he maneuvered the throng. Her pulse started racing and her hands began to sweat as she drank in the sight of him, this man who owned her heart.
His scowl eased into a smile as he spied Kathleen, then froze on his face when his eyes fixed on her. Charity turned to Ryan, her breathing shallow. "I'd love a program, Ryan, if you don't mind, shall we? Kathleen, so good to see you. Please say hello to Mitch." She latched onto Ryan's arm and tried to tug him away.
"Dennehy? Is that really you?" Ryan's face broke into a smile and he extended an arm. "I haven't seen you in years. What, a big-shot editor doesn't rub shoulders with the common folk anymore, is that it?"
Charity spun around, shock glazing her skin. Good Lord, they're friends?
Mitch grinned and pumped Ryan's hand, his handsome smile harpooning straight through her heart. "Hello, Ryan, it's good to see you again. And you'd hardly qualify as 'common folk with your bank account."
Ryan laughed and slapped Mitch on the shoulder. He cupped an arm around Charity's waist. "Mitch, this is Charity O'Connor, the woman who just may be the love of my life."
Mitch's searing blue eyes scanned the length of her from head to foot, causing heat to blister her cheeks. A stony smile sculpted his lips. "We've met."
She pressed a hand to the filmy bodice of her scooped-neck dress, praying she wouldn't faint. She leaned into Ryan's arm. "Hello, Mitch. Nice to see you again."
Ryan grinned. "You two know each other? That's wonderful. How about a late supper after the theater?"
"No!"
Their voices resounded in unison, raising Ryan's brows to the level of curiosity. "Why not? It will be fun, catching up on old times."
Charity began to hyperventilate. Mitch intervened, draping an arm over Kathleen's shoulder. "Can't tonight, Ryan. My fiancee has to be home by eleven." He squeezed Kathleen to his side with an obstinate press of his lips. "Ryan, this is Kathleen Meyer, my fiancee."
"Well, congratulations. And good job, Kathleen. I thought this one would end up a confirmed old bachelor for sure. Well, maybe another time, Mitch. Good to see you." The lights flicked several times and Ryan looked up, absently massaging the back of Charity's neck before steering her toward the door. "I'll take you to our seats, Charity, and then get your program."
Charity waved. "Good night, Kathleen, Mitch. Enjoy the show." She breathed a sigh of relief when Ryan braced the back of her waist with his hands and guided her through the crowd. She glanced over her shoulder to see Mitch watching with a frown on his face. Good. Let him stew. She suddenly felt a tiny bit evil and leaned her head back against Ryan's chest, looking up to give him a saucy smile. He bent to press a kiss to her cheek and whispered in her ear. She giggled for full effect, hoping that Mr. Dennehy enjoyed the show. She glanced back one more time and smiled. Success! The frown was a definite scowl.
Mitch shoved the tickets at the doorman and hoped for a dark corner where he could disappear. No such luck. But then he'd known his luck had run out the moment he'd seen her face. One look into those almond-shaped eyes, and his evening had been doomed. What did it matter that their seats were dead-center like Ryan's, a mere two rows behind? The perfect vantage point to see a play entitled Heartbreak House, nicely complemented by a bit of his own.
Kathleen reached for his hand, and he smiled, hoping to dispel the stiffness he felt. He squeezed back and tried to relax, willing his eyes to fix on the stage. But they had a mind of their own and strayed at will, searing the back of a golden-haired girl. She leaned to whisper in Ryan's ear and he drew her close, brushing her cheek with a kiss. Then he lifted her chin and brought her lips full to his, merging into a silhouette that tightened Mitch's gut. She tucked her head on Ryan's shoulder, allowing her silky curls to spill down his back. Mitch clenched his hand.
Kathleen touched his arm. He jolted. "Are you okay? You seem tense."
He nodded and drew in a deep breath, forcing his body to unwind. "I'm okay, just tired."
Her forehead puckered. "Do you want to leave?"
Yes.
"No, I'm fine." He returned his gaze to the stage, never seeing it for the girl in his view. He felt Kathleen's eyes on him for a long moment, before she finally eased back into her seat, leaving him alone with his thoughts. A dangerous thing to do.
Charity thrust herself against the front door and waited. She heard the sputter of Ryan's engine before it faded away, leaving her alone in the dark. She turned and bolted the door, her exhaustion evident in the slump of her shoulders and the heaviness of her heart. She glanced at the stairs and moved into the parlor, no energy to even scale the steps. Dropping onto the sofa, she flung herself over the arm, unleashing tears forbidden by hours of restraint.
Why, God? Why did you let me see him again? After months of agony and then finally some hope. Why dash it all with just a glimpse of his smile? Why?
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart ...
"No!" She sat up on the couch, her eyes stinging with tears and her heart breaking. "I did t-trust you. I gave you my hheart, but you didn't follow through. I trusted you with Mitch, God. And where is he? In the arms of someone else, while I sit here, empty and alone. With nothing but a c-cold prayer on my lips."
She stumbled to her feet. "I love him, God, and I can't live without him, I can't!"
Something sinister settled on her spirit, bleeding the air from her lungs. She staggered against the sofa, then sank in its depths while nausea welled in her throat.
Pray.
She closed her eyes, feeling his pull but warring against it. In her mind's eye she saw Mitch-that night in her room and the look in his eyes-and a dangerous warmth suffocated all reason. She gave in to the thought, sending heat licking through her. She wanted him. And he wanted her. And she would have him.
Sensual love entices-the taste of honey for the moment. But sin will turn it to ashes in your mouth.
"No, Brady, you're wrong." Her whisper violated the still of the house.
It will never make you happy, never sustain you.
"It will! I've felt it. Mitch loves me, and I love him. I've seduced him more than once. I can do it again." She rose from the sofa with the strength of sin in her bones, moving to the door with unholy purpose.
Love doth not behave itself unseemly ... seeketh not her own ... thinketh no evil ...
She froze, the memory of Brady's Scriptures echoing in her brain. She sagged against the parlor entryway, a feeble sob wrenching from her throat. "Noooo ..."
She doubled over, revelation impacting her with the force of a blow. If she loved him-really loved him-would she force her own way? Disregard his wishes? Exploit his weakness for her gain? She wept, her body heaving with silent sobs. Love suffereth long... vaunteth not itself... beareth all things... endureth all things ...
A painful groan rose from her spirit. No. She would not.
If she loved him.
She slid down the wall and collapsed to her knees in a pool of pain, sobbing until nothing was left. "All right, you win," she whispered, her voice little more than a rasp. "No more seduction. No more lies." She lifted her gaze to the ceiling. "But I have to see him, God, please ... just one more time. Without Kathleen
near to sway his heart. One more time to win him with honesty ... or to say goodbye. And whatever you decide, I'll endure."
She rose to her feet and wiped the tears from her face. Brady had once quoted that "love never fails." She lifted her head to heaven and closed her eyes, her thoughts directed in prayer. "Please, God, I'm asking from the depth of my soul-don't let it fail me."
Charity closed the front door quietly and hurried down the steps. She glanced at her watch, then exhaled. 5:10 p.m. Thank God she could walk by the light of day for another hour at least. She glanced back at Grandmother's cottage, tinged pink by the first glimmer of dusk, and fought off a wave of guilt. She'd left a note that she would be out. She chewed on her lip. It was better they didn't know where.
By the time she reached the city, rush hour was in full sway, bringing a bustle and excitement that invaded her mood. People milled and autos sputtered, harmonizing with the shouts of vendors and the music of pubs. Evening settled in, shadowing buildings with a rosy glow that would soon fade into night.
Charity stared at the Irish Times as it loomed overhead, twinklings of light peeking from its windows. She thought of Mitch, and adrenaline flowed like a wellspring. Her eyes scanned the street, taking note of his car. She merged with the crowd and made her way to where it sat. Nearby, a toothless vendor hawked papers to the crowd. She glanced around, biding her time until he was engaged in a sale, then slipped in the backseat of Mitch's car and slid to the floor.
The sounds and smells of the city whirled outside, but here she was cocooned in the warmth of Mitch's scent. Soap and leather and the smell of Bay Rum filled her senses, clutching at her heart. She drew in a shaky breath. She had to see him alone, not in an office full of people. And away from Kathleen. One last chance to convince him he was marrying the wrong girl.
Snippets of conversation floated in the air, laced with laughter and teasing and occasional song. She lay on her back on the hard floorboard, stretching her legs to dislodge a cramp. How long had she been here? An hour? Two? She could see a sliver of the full moon through the window, wedged between two murky buildings. Stars winked in the sky, as if privy to her plan. She closed her eyes and shuddered. Maybe she should go ...
"How's it going, Jimmy?"
Her eyes popped open and her heart started to pound.
"Fine, Mitch. How are you two tonight?"
You two?
"Hi, Jimmy, no firepot, I see." A woman's muted tone faded on the breeze.
Charity's stomach rolled.
"Not tonight, Kathleen. It's so balmy, I'm thinking of going for a moonlight swim."
Mitch laughed, the deep timbre of his voice blending with the soft melody of Kathleen's. "You just may get yourself a moon burn, Jimmy. Give Mary my love."
"Will do, Mitch."
She held her breath as the passenger door opened and Kathleen slid in. The springs squeaked in her ear. She heard Mitch walk to the front and rattle the crank, causing the engine to rumble to life. The strong smell of gasoline drifted up as the chassis vibrated beneath her. She released a heavy breath, taking advantage of the noise.
Mitch got in and slammed his door, jerking the gears to maneuver into traffic.
"You sure you have to go home? We could get a late supper." His voice sounded lonely.
"I wish I could. There's nothing I'd rather do than be with you." She paused. "Although that can be dangerous lately." There was a hint of tease in her tone.
"Sorry. Guess I'm low on restraint these days. That'll change after we're married."
"You mean you'll have more?" There was a smile in the question.
"No, ma'am, I won't need any." He shifted in the seat, as if reaching for her hand. "I wish we could get married tomorrow. I'm tired of waiting."
"Only one more month, Mitch."
He shifted to pick up speed. "I should have never let you talk me into putting it off."
She sighed. "I think it was best. You needed time."
"No, I need you," he growled.
They rode in silence until the car slowed to a stop. He pulled the lever back and turned the engine off. His voice was gruff. "Come here." The front seat creaked as he pulled her close.
Charity held her breath, her mouth dry as dust. Soft breathing and the press of the springs were the only sounds she could hear. Her stomach twisted into painful knots.
"Mitch ... I need to go in and you need to go home."
He sighed and opened his door, getting out and jolting it closed. He opened Kathleen's and helped her from the car, muttering something Charity couldn't hear. The door slammed, and their footsteps faded.
Charity's breathing was ragged as she fumbled for her purse. She bit her lip and fished out a bottle of lilac water to dab on her throat. A surge of guilt heated her cheeks and she shivered, glancing up at the sky. "This is not seduction, Lord, I promise. Just pure common sense. I need all his senses in play when he makes his final decision."
She pushed the bottle back in her purse and returned to the floorboards, her muscles quivering. She squeezed her eyes shut and started to pray. All at once, Kathleen's sweet face came to mind, and Charity's stomach churned. Her hand flew to her mouth to compress a queasy burp. She opened her eyes to dispel the image, but it burned in her sight nonetheless. Sweet and loving Kathleen-she loved Mitch too. A low groan issued forth from Charity's throat, her regret as painful as her guilt. "Oh, Kathleen, I'm sorry please forgive me! But I love him too, and I don't know what else to do ..." Her words fused to her lips at the sound of his footsteps. She closed her eyes and prayed.
Mitch lumbered down the steps and rubbed the side of his head. He felt a headache coming on. He rounded the car to grind the crank with more force than needed. The growl of the engine matched that of his mood. He got in and heaved the door closed with a grunt, then shifted the car into gear and headed home.
He'd needed Kathleen ... tonight, more than ever. The touch of her lips, the heat of her body, anything to take his mind off Charity. Seeing her last night had stabbed him through the heart, undoing months of healing with a single glance. He drew in a deep breath and sagged over the wheel as he drove. Five minutes in her presence, and now even the air carried her scent.
Why was he doing this? Pushing her away?
Trust. It had been the issue in the beginning and the issue in the end. But she had changed, so she said. Given her heart to God. Then why was he marrying Kathleen?
He sighed. Because he'd hurt Kathleen more than once. He wouldn't do it again. He'd given his word, in the form of a ring, and in his mind, there was no turning back. He thought of all the reasons Charity was wrong for him. Fourteen years younger, as stubborn as he, and an affinity for deception that would boggle the mind. He needed more. A stable woman with a compliant heart. And lips that warmed his without the burn of a lie.
Not a woman who could only heat his blood as well as his temper.
He coasted to a stop in front of his apartment and disengaged the drive gears with a weary thrust. The engine sputtered to a slow death. Like his hope. He would marry Kathleen.
He glanced at Mrs. Lynch's lit window, then exhaled and leaned back against the seat, reluctant to chance a repeat encounter. He slammed his fist against the door and groaned. "Why, God?"
"Let me know if you get an answer. I haven't heard a peep."
Mitch jerked around, bumping his head on the roof. He put a hand to his head and swore.
"I thought you gave that up," she said, climbing over the back of the seat. She plopped into the passenger side as casually as if she'd been there all night, giving him a sweet smile. Two perfectly manicured brows wiggled in a playful tease. "Alone at last."
He stared, unable to compose a coherent thought, never mind a coherent sentence. There she sat, the haunt of his dreams, mere inches away, and in full flesh and blood. His gaze traveled from the hypnotic eyes to the full lips, quickening his pulse with a nervous sweep of her tongue. She studied him through shy eyes while she fidgeted with her nails. Her lips sudd
enly twitched with a near smile. "You don't do well with the element of surprise, do you, Mitch?"
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to talk."
"Yeah, right." He hissed under his breath and jerked the handle of the door, kicking it open with an angry thud. He leapt out and hurtled the crank, then jumped back in and gunned the car from the curve. "Never in my unfortunate life have I ever met a woman like you. I swear, you will drive some poor slob right over the edge."
"Actually, Mitch, I was hoping that would be you."
He squealed around a corner on two wheels, burning the air. "Not on your life, little girl. I'm too old, remember? My heart couldn't take it."
She crossed her arms. "You might as well park the car. We are going to talk."
He gave her a sideways glance. "No, Charity, we're not. I'm taking you home."
"No! We're going to talk this out, Mitch Dennehy, or die trying." She grabbed his arm, forcing the car to swerve.
He slammed on the brakes and jounced the advance lever up. The vehicle skidded to a screeching stop as he whirled in the seat. "Get out. You can walk from here." He couldn't risk talking to her, not for one blinkin' minute. He wanted her out of his life. Gone.
She stared in disbelief, the fire in her eyes burning away any good intent. He wouldn't even hear her out? Give her five minutes of his time? After all they'd been to each other? She groaned and pounced, pummeling his arm as hard as she could. "You can go to the devil, Mitch Dennehy, for all I care, but first we're going to talk."
He shoved her back on the seat. "Get out of my car, now."
She propped up on her elbows, her jaw quivering with anger. "Make me."
He lunged to open her door, and she battered his chest as tears blurred her eyes. He deflected her blows, forcing her wrists to the seat. A choked sob broke from her lips, and the anger faded from his face.
And then she saw it. Pain, regret, longing. Her conscience stilled and her pulse quickened. As if against her will, her own longing took control. He wanted her-still. He loved her!
A Passion Redeemed (The Daughters of Boston, Book 2) Page 38