Irish Fling

by Valerie Douglas

  Beneath the helmet and all his hair was red, his eyes amber, his face so Irish, comfortable, his policeman’s eyes hard but softening. He nodded.

  “It is,” he said, “Miss Dearborn.”

  “All right,” she said, softly. “I awoke in the love seat. I fell asleep there.”

  Her head lowered, her shoulders twitched, her breath hitched. “Someone was there, who shouldn’t be. Bending over the bed, just a shadow. That’s all I saw.”

  The memory sent another burst of fear through her.

  Scrambling for control, Ali hauled it back. “His hand lifted and then he paused. I wasn’t there and he’d just realized it. As soon as I knew that I ran. He went after me, caught at me or something, it hurt.”

  Bewildered, she reached behind her shoulder to the burning there, touched it and held out her hand.

  Fresh blood stained her fingertips…

  All Aidan could see was Ali, her pale face, shocked, her eyes enormous, stunned…standing there with blood on her fingers.

  His jaw tightened, yet he must have made some sound. Both the Garda and Ali looked up.

  Seeing him, seeing Aidan with his dark hair tumbled and his blue eyes worried, all Ali wanted to do was throw her arms around him, lay her head on his chest and take refuge in his arms.

  The look in her eyes, the appeal, was undeniable. Aidan needed to go to her, to hold her, she needed him. Ali needed him. She looked so frightened, so vulnerable, so alone.

  “Ali,” he said.

  “Sir,” one of the Garda said, spotting Aidan behind them as he took a step toward her. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Seeing the look in her eyes, Inspector Monaghan knew he was about to lose her. She’d been hanging onto her composure by sheer force of will. The look in her eyes as she looked at the man behind them was all the explanation Declan needed. He needed her stable.

  “Let him pass,” he said.

  Aidan was already moving, brushing past the Gardai even as Ali reached for him, bursting into tears as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  He folded her within his own arms, holding onto her tightly, one hand buried in her hair to cradle her head against his shoulder.

  “Ssh, a gra,” he said, softly, rocking her. “You’re safe now.”

  And would stay that way or he’d know the reason why.

  One of the Garda came down the hall, shaking his head. “The door from the adjoining room was forced.”

  “I’m sorry, acushla,” Aidan said, softly. Sorry for not being there for her.

  Her face lifted to look at him as she touched his in disbelief. Her fingers shook. The look in her eyes was enough. It destroyed him.

  Aidan looked at the blood on the wall behind her, on her fingertips, and curled her into his arms until he could see her back. He sucked in a breath at the long cut down her shoulder. It wasn’t deep but it looked painful.

  He looked at the Garda Inspector, who gave a look to one of his people.

  It was enough.

  The man nodded and spoke briefly into the microphone at his shoulder, summoning emergency services.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Aidan almost hated to wake her, Ali was sleeping so peacefully but they couldn’t stay in the car forever. Quietly he slipped out of his side of the car, opened hers and slipped his arms under her shoulders and knees. The Gardai had released her finally at the hospital after Aidan had promised to bring her in for a statement later in the morning but she’d been able to give them nothing more. In the darkness, she hadn’t even seen the man who’d attacked her.

  Nor could she give any reason why someone would have wanted to hurt her any more than Aidan himself could.

  Rousing, Ali wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her.

  “I can walk,” she murmured against his throat.

  He smiled as he nudged the elevator button with his elbow. “As I’m sure you can.”

  Swinging her into the elevator, it took a little more effort to push the button for his floor but somehow he managed. Thinking how close he might have come to losing her made his throat close and the notion of putting her down unthinkable.

  “Where are we?” she asked sleepily.

  “My apartment.”

  It was a little difficult to maneuver the key to the door, but he managed it.

  One of the Gardai had found a blanket to wrap her in and she was still wrapped in it as Aidan carried her into his bedroom.

  Then for a moment he simply sat on the side of the bed, holding her, combing his fingers through her thick hair to cradle her head against his shoulder.

  Ali simply gave in to the comfort of it, listening to the steady beat of Aidan’s heart, the rhythm helping her own heartbeat settle. The fear fell away… She needed something to hold onto, something to touch.

  One hand slipped out of the blanket to pick at the button to his shirt.

  Aidan’s cheek against her hair but he felt the button give way, then another, before her small hand slipped through to press against his chest. To lay it over his heart. And his heart was lost.

  For a moment, Ali simply closed her eyes, soaking up the sensation of his warm skin against her hand. The chill she felt was internal.

  Tilting her head back, she looked up into Aidan’s face.

  In the dark, she couldn’t see the color of his eyes but she could see his face. She reached up to touch it, to trace his cheek, the lines of his mouth with unsteady fingers.

  Aidan watched her face in the thin light, felt the small tremble of her fingers as she touched him, the sensation electric. He brushed his mouth across her fingertips and her gaze rose to meet his. Cupping her head in his hand, he tipped her mouth up to his, brushed his lips across hers.

  Tenderly, he kissed her as her arms twined up around his neck and the blanket fell away.

  Only the thin cotton gown and her warm skin were beneath his hands.

  And Ali. His Ali.

  His hands roamed her back, curled around her, lowered her gently to the bed as he stretched out beside her. As if discovering her again, his hands roamed, molded, curled around her waist to draw her close against him. Then down to her hip, tightening around it to feel the curve of it beneath his hand.

  As his hands roamed, he tasted her again, the cool clear taste of Ali, as she moved against him, as she tasted him in return. Their tongues tangled as she arched against him.

  “I missed you,” Ali whispered, her voice tremulous, tears close.

  Warmth blossomed inside her, slow, deep and low, at the touch. The feel of his long hard body warm against hers chased away the cold. When his hand closed around her breast, cupped it, she jolted as heat rushed through her, spearing deep.

  She was hungry for him, for the touch of him.

  Aidan looked down at her, brushed the hair back from her face. “Ali. Sweet Ali.”

  He cupped her cheek. Her eyes were shadowed in the darkness but he could see her look at him. She was so lovely. Thinking of the night, he knew how close he’d come once again to losing her. If she’d been in that bed… Knowing even then he wouldn’t have been able to tell her what he was just coming to know, that she might have died without hearing the words from him. That she wouldn’t have known…

  “I love you,” he said, softly.

  For a moment Ali went so still he couldn’t hear her breathe, he could only see those liquid eyes locked on his face. He wasn’t sure she did indeed breathe.

  His heart ached for her.

  “I love you, Ali,” he repeated.

  She stared at him. The fingers that touched his face shook.

  Ali kept listening, hearing those same words again. And again. Her heart thumped once hard, then again when he repeated it…

  Her breath caught. Had she heard him correctly? She looked up into his eyes, felt the warmth of his hand against her cheek. His blue eyes were steady on hers. Breathless wonder blossomed within her and her heart opened.

  “I love you, too, Aidan,” she whispered.r />
  Aidan lowered his head until their foreheads touched, his eyes closed in relief as he curled a hand around her throat to feel the steady strong beat there.

  As she watched him, he slid his hand down the slender column of her neck to lay his hand on her chest to feel her heart beat strongly beneath it and he knew then that this was what he’d been looking for. What he’d searched so long for.

  He opened his eyes to find her looking at him.

  Slowly, with his gaze locked on hers, he moved his hand down to take her breast into it again. Her eyes never left his as he caressed her, his thumb brushing over her nipple beneath the thin cotton. She trembled but her eyes never left his. Their breaths mingled as her body moved against his almost involuntarily, rising with need. Sliding his hand up a little, he brushed the thin strap from her shoulder. His hand slid beneath the cotton over the warm curve to take her now bared breast in his hand.

  He dropped a kiss on her forehead, pressed another just below and beside one pretty eye, then her lips before he brushed his lips over the sensitive tip of her breast gently. To feel her shiver, but not from cold.

  Ali pressed her lips against Aidan’s throat, sliding one arm around his neck, the other up the strong muscles of his arm, over the long muscles of his back.

  Gently Aidan drew that taut nub into his mouth, toyed with it, sipped on it as his hand slid down her waist, over her hip, his fingers gathering the thin cotton until he could smooth his hand over the silken skin of her thigh.

  A breath sighed out of her.

  It was like discovering her anew as Aidan felt her satiny skin beneath his hands, the taste of her breast, the feel of her nipple against his tongue. He rolled that hard peak over it, nibbled on it and felt her quiver.

  He sifted his fingers through the tight curls between her thighs as she parted them for him, and his fingers slipped into her heated depths as if they belonged even as she opened for him. She was so hot, so tight, so wet. The first soft cry of pleasure whispered out of her.

  Aidan’s blood heated in an instant, as her hips rose to ask for more.

  She tasted wonderful, felt better and he savored her breast as he sent his fingers deeper, caressing, teasing, feeling her skin heat against him.

  Ali needed to touch, to feel, her fingers fumbled at his dress shirt buttons, frantic to get to the warm skin beneath. To feel him. To touch him.

  Pulling back at the soft sound of need, Aidan impatiently pulled his shirt free, tossed it aside, as desperate to feel her hands on his skin as she was to touch him.

  “Aidan,” she breathed, her hands on his chest, sliding down to help push away his slacks.

  The thin gown was ripped over her head so they were skin to skin.

  In a second he was buried inside her, needing to feel her wrapped around him even as her hips rose to meet his, frantic to have him fill her. His groan and her soft cry mingled as their bodies came together, surged against each other, their legs tangled.

  His hands crushed her against him as his mouth assaulted her, as he drove into her, needing her.

  Ali couldn’t get enough of the feel of him, around her, inside her, filling her, stretching her, pulsing inside her. She was made to take him, all of him. She felt him swell and harden inside her even as the pleasure inside her expanded, flooded through her.

  Driving deep, Aidan groaned as she clenched around him. He wrapped one arm beneath her hips, ground into her as she bucked, trembled, crying out as she tightened, tightened around him.

  “Aidan,” she called.

  “Ali, acushla, a gra,” he groaned, and then he came, pouring into her, emptying, filling her, claiming her as his once again.

  Collapsing over and around her, Aidan curled her in close; her head nestled against his shoulder.

  “Ah, God,” he whispered, “I missed you.”

  Stroking his hair, she whispered. “I missed you, too. Oh, Aidan, I missed you, too.”

  With her body curled into the curve of his own, Aidan held her as they plummeted into sleep.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Once again Ali stood in Aidan’s kitchen wearing nothing but his shirt, his dress shirt this time and it was his apartment. It was an astonishingly sexy look, straight out of the movies, but there was truly nothing else for her to wear. Between his… enthusiasm…and the damage done before her nightgown was in tatters. The outfit was rendered even more enticing when she bent to look into the refrigerator to see if there was anything edible in there.

  Aidan resisted the urge until she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and then he couldn’t take it any longer, stepping up to skim his hands over that perfect bottom.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him and grinned.

  There were shadows under and in her eyes that broke his heart but that she could still smile so impishly was reassuring.

  Nightmares had woken her during the night, and she’d curled into him, shaking as he’d held her.

  Ali just needed his hands on her, to feel his touch.

  Understanding, Aidan drew her up, wrapped his arms around her as he looked into the refrigerator, too.

  “It doesn’t look promising,” he said, doubtfully. He rarely kept much in the refrigerator, eating out most days.

  Turning her head to press a kiss against his cheek, she said, “As long as there are eggs, cheese and potatoes, we’ll survive. And there are.”

  A knock at the door made them both jump.

  “Maggie,” he said, going to let his secretary into the apartment. He’d called and asked her to stop at the hotel to see if the Gardai would release some of Ali’s things.

  Given her attire, Ali just peered around the door and smiled. “Hi.”

  With a smile, Aidan said, “Maggie, Ali, Ali, Maggie.”

  Lifting her chin, Maggie said, with a grin, “I’m sure I’ve seen worse, Ali. There was only the one bag…and a few things hanging…”

  Aidan grinned. “The magic bag…”

  “Yes, there’s only the one,” Ali confirmed, smiling.

  “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ali Dearborn,” Maggie said, giving the girl a nod as she came out of the kitchen.

  She was just such a pretty little thing, Maggie thought, with a tumble of sunny hair and the most amazing eyes. There was a hint of mischief in those eyes, although there were shadows beneath them, too, and she was still pale. But she was a healthy handful, as Maggie’s father used to say, meaning she wasn’t one of those skinny things Aidan usually brought home.

  Something else was different and that was in Aidan. Maggie wasn’t seeing the distance in his manner, the coolness, that had marked his other relationships with women, particularly Devon.

  Before she closed the door behind her, Maggie gave Aidan a wink and a nod. Oh, this one was a charmer. She definitely approved.

  No sooner was the door closed than Aidan swept Ali up, tossed her over his shoulder and carried her into the bath.

  “Now that you have clean clothes,” Aidan said, “you need a shower.”

  Laughing, Ali said, “I do, do I? Are you trying to tell me something?”

  “Ah, now, there’s something about a woman, water and soap…Besides, you need someone to keep an eye on that bandage.”

  Leaning against him afterward, the warm water streaming over them as she stood in his arms waiting for her muscles to stop twitching, she sighed.

  “I have a presentation today,” she said, quietly.

  A tremor went through her at the thought.

  “So you do,” Aidan said, his own heart going still at the idea.

  Gently he wrapped her in a towel, letting her make the decision of what to do herself. There was the meeting with the Garda, first.

  Gardai stations were like police stations almost everywhere, institutional, unwelcoming, but Declan Monaghan seemed determined to try to make it as easy as possible. Still, it amounted to Ali repeating the same things over and over again as they tried to tease out the slightest detail she might ha
ve missed.

  In between each round of questioning, Ali doodled on a scrap of paper she’d cadged, anything to keep her mind occupied.

  Glancing at his watch, Aidan looked at Ali. “Is this going to go on much longer, Inspector? Not that we don’t want to help but Ali has a presentation to make very shortly. “

  Surprised, Monaghan looked at them. “You’re going back to the hotel?”

  “Not to stay,” Aidan said, stroking Ali’s hair.

  With a smile for Aidan, Ali said, “I still have to work, Inspector. And back in the States we have a thing about getting back on the horse that threw you.”

  Declan couldn’t help but admire her courage.

  Frowning, though, he said. “I’ll have a man assigned to the hotel then. We’ll be checking on the incident with the brakes, too. Other than that, Miss Dearborn, unless you can remember someone who wants to harm you, we’ll do what we can, but…these things happen…”

  People traveling alone, it was always a danger.

  “I understand, Inspector,” Ali said. “Thank you.”

  As they drew closer to the hotel, Ali took a steadying breath. Reaching out, Aidan took her hand, giving her something to hold on to. She nodded and smiled.

  Word of what had happened had apparently gotten around, there were a few startled looks as she walked into the presentation hall.

  Ali was a little startled when she walked into her presentation and everyone there rose to their feet, clapping.

  It was a little overwhelming.

  Despite everything, she was grateful Aidan was there. She still felt shaken. Nor did he leave her side for long.

  Others noted her return as well. A dozen people stopped them on the way in to lunch to ask if she was all right. Adam, Jiro, some of the others. It was more than a little gratifying to know that so many people had been worried about her. She hadn’t known what to tell Cam, Molly and Jesse. Uncertain what to say, she still debated what to say to them, but it was still a little too early to call them.

  Jacques looked up at the commotion and got to his feet with relief. He was many things but he was no kind of man to be so callous as to not be relieved that Alex seemed none the worse her ordeal of the night before.