by Paula Roe
Finn was on his cell phone, barking out orders in Danish. Then he saw her, said something into the phone and hung up.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
“Hi.”
“Come here.”
“Why?”
He sighed. “Just do it, Ally.”
She took a step forward but it wasn’t quick enough. Suddenly he was there, cupping a gentle hand to the nape of her neck and tilting her head forward, massaging her tension with long, expert fingers. The familiar possessiveness made her shiver.
The beep and click of the answering machine echoed in the background. The increasing frustration in her mother’s voice as she left yet another message.
Ally closed her eyes and shut it all out, letting Finn’s fingers ease the stress and worry away, allowing herself a moment of respite to melt into him, to let her throbbing breasts rest against the heat of his chest and his warm breath feather in her ear…
“Pick up. It’s Simon. We need to talk.”
Ally sprang back on the end of a shocked gasp.
With a dreadful sense of premonition, she did the only thing she could think of. She ran.
Bad idea. As she turned, the rug bunched under her feet and she lost balance. Finn grabbed her to cushion the fall and they crashed to the floor, both sprawling while the rest of Simon’s message reverberated through the room.
“Look, you got me the other day. I thought by springing the Awards on you, you’d have no choice but to say yes. But the thing is, Max is busting my ass to get you there. You know what he’s like. So call PR and I’ll have two tickets waiting for you. Oh, and you don’t need to worry about any awkward moments—I’ve made other plans for that night.”
She closed her eyes and breathed an inward sigh of relief. Not as bad as I thought.
Finn’s breath stuttered in his throat and hotly grazed her cheek.
“Ally?”
“What?” She strained away, a hard thing to do when he was lying on top of her, her body singing with anticipation at the contact.
“Look at me.”
Reluctantly she opened her eyes. Those green depths held a complexity of emotion. Wonder. Surprise. And white-hot desire.
Fear coursed through her veins.
Don’t let his touch fool you. But her heart was pounding so heavily she found it hard to breathe.
You’re still in love with your husband.
She was shocked, but only for a second. She did love him, in ways she’d never realized possible when they had been together. It called to mind the chorus of an old, well-loved song—“I loved you more than I did when you were mine.”
She just had to keep reminding herself that he hadn’t been hers in a long time. Even though her body still wanted him, she’d thought her head was immune after all they had been through.
She turned her face to the side, as if protecting her thoughts from his probing gaze. “You’re crushing me,” she finally got out.
When he didn’t move, she gently pushed her hands between them. “Finn. Please. I need to get up.”
Without a word, he got to his feet, then offered a hand to her.
She took it, absurdly grateful for any physical contact. And without a word, he led her to the couch.
“What are you…?”
“Shhhh, elskat. For once let’s not say anything.”
He kissed her with such passion, such possessiveness that an unbidden glimmer of hope bloomed in the corner of Ally’s heart. What if…?
He skimmed his palm over her shoulders to lie possessively against the wild pulse at the base of her neck.
“I’m moving in.”
She gaped for one second, until Finn calmly closed her mouth with one finger under her chin.
“Why?” she spluttered.
“You obviously didn’t like last night’s theory and time is not something we have a lot of. What—you have another suggestion?” he challenged at the look in her eyes.
Nothing that doesn’t involve smacking you on the side of the head. “I don’t—”
“And I don’t give a…What’s the word? A stuff. That’s right. I don’t give a stuff what you want right now, Ally. We have less than two months to find that codicil. We can’t do this by half measures. Or…we could always…”
Ally swallowed thickly as he let that suggestion hang, his eyes focused on her lips. She couldn’t stop her plummeting heart every time he mentioned that codicil. It just reinforced the cold, hard truth of his return.
“So I don’t have a say in this?” she said softly.
“You could’ve said no at the start.”
“How could I? You practically blackmailed me into it.”
A bare hint of surprise and irritation sparked in his green eyes. “Ja. And I’m sorry for that.” He rubbed his chin with his palm. “I’m just trying to handle this situation as quickly as I can.”
A bittersweet emotion sent a pang through her chest, making it hard to breathe.
And right then and there, she wanted more than anything to kick sensible Ally to the curb. To ignore her nagging doubts, the endless what-ifs that the future would bring. Even the heartache that would follow as surely as Finn’s departure.
When would she get another chance to enjoy her time with him? If she looked inside her heart and was completely honest, wasn’t this something she’d wanted ever since he’d made that midnight call? Yes, she’d have to deal with his leaving eventually, but memories of this time—their time—would sustain her through the lonely months and years ahead.
Because there was no way she’d settle for second best. If she couldn’t have this man she didn’t want any man.
She shrugged and put her hands on her hips, avoiding his eyes. “Fine. You can move in. The quicker we do this, the quicker you can go home.”
Thirteen
After a day of so much togetherness, Ally anticipated the coming evening with dark dread. So she wasted time in her bathroom, indulging in a mini facial before stepping into the shower for a long soak. Finally, after pulling on the oldest, rattiest pajamas she could find, she walked into the living room to discover Finn deeply engrossed in the contents of her box.
With everything spread across the coffee table, he was intent on reading a letter. A lock of dusty-blond hair framed the small furrows on his brow and for one heart-pumping second she felt the heat, the want, the desire—the love—just how it used to be between them.
Then he glanced up, said, “I thought we’d better get back to this,” and the moment was gone.
Ally managed a nod. Remember why he’s really here. “Nothing?”
He leaned back in his seat with a frustrated frown. “I don’t understand it.”
“Keep trying.” Please keep trying. “I have some work to do.” She went to her desk, determined to concentrate on something other than the wild desire to jump him and make sweet love just for the hell of it.
After a productive hour at her computer, she pushed back her chair. “I’m taking a break. You want something to eat?”
At his absent nod, she went into the kitchen. When she returned with drinks and food, Finn was leaning back on the couch, arms behind his head, ankle crossed over one knee, T-shirt straining across his chest. The familiar sight hitched her heart. Yet, despite that nonchalance, she detected unease in his posture, as if the frustration he held such a tight leash on was slipping.
A small photo album was lying across his lap.
“When was this taken?” He pointed to a photo.
She stared. It was a shot of her wearing a wide grin, a short clingy T-shirt and not much else. The lush curve of one hip thrust out against the worn fabric, the outline of her unfettered breasts clearly defined underneath a slogan that declared, “Australian Mushrooms” in tiny print. She looked young, happy and carefree. In love.
The thickness in her throat made it hard to swallow. She put down the tray, unable to meet his eyes. “You’d been working fifteen-hour days and I wanted to give you something personal.�
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At his raised eyebrow, she clarified. “It was a running joke between us. I once told you that cooking mushrooms smelled like…ah…” She faltered and felt the blush rush up her neck, prickle her skin like tiny needles. “…sex.”
“Really.”
That one word hung in the air as his eyes darkened imperceptibly, his gaze engulfing her in one possessive sweep.
“So why do you have the photo?”
“You returned them after I left.” That small betrayal barely hurt anymore, even though she knew he’d been trying to wipe every memory of her from his life. “Cookie?” Without waiting for an answer, she reached for the packet, tore it open and offered one to him.
As Finn slowly crunched on the cookie, Ally put grapes in her mouth, one after the other.
She knew he was watching her beneath hooded eyes, assessing her every move. The unspoken tension slowly increased until she could feel the heat vibrating between them. And when she caught him staring, his gaze was sensual and full of hot knowing. The magic and shock of their impending physical interaction fired between them again, sending her into simultaneous slow smolder and mild panic.
“Well,” she said breezily, determinedly cutting off her thoughts, “let’s get back to work.” Nothing like a hefty dose of reality to clear all those happy-ever-after fantasies you seem to be having.
But Finn was obviously on a crusade. “Tell me about your family.”
She placed her glass carefully on the coffee table in silence.
“Sit.” He patted the seat beside him and she sat, trying to cement her walls of preservation. But they came tumbling back down when he took her shoulders and turned her back to him, then drew long, sensuous fingers through her hair. He gently began to massage her scalp and she moaned softly, inching closer like a small moon caught in the gravitational pull of a mighty planet. She’d never been this close and able to remain aloof. He had that kind of effect on her, primitive and wildly out of control. His strength and determination and passion were everything she’d ever wanted in her life.
How easy this could be, how perfect this little snapshot of domestic bliss was if…If Finn truly wanted to stay.
She sighed at the ache in her heart. Stupid impulsive Ally.
“My grandfather divorced Grandma Lexie when my mom was a year old,” she said softly. “It was quite a scandal—he was from a rich family and she was the housekeeper’s daughter. He got custody, then remarried and moved to New Zealand. When Mom turned eighteen she tracked Lexie down, but by then they were poles apart. Mom had hated the good-society-girl role she’d been forced into, and finding her mother was just another way of rebelling against her father’s restrictions. Needless to say she got cut from his will. And she’s spent all her life trying to ‘find herself.’” She made quote marks in the air with her fingers for emphasis, her mouth twitching with sarcasm.
Finn saw her bottom lip stick out, almost as if she was daring him to make a smart comment. Instead he said, “What about your father?”
“Mom met Padraic on an Irish jaunt. They got married and immigrated to Australia before I was born. We lived in the Blue Mountains until I was ten.”
“The same time you lost your house.”
“Yes.” Her eyes rounded at his intuition. “My father was drunk on the lounge, fell asleep while smoking. My mom and I were next door, helping out the neighbors with their new baby.” She glanced up at him, then away. “Unlike my father, the house was uninsured. It sounds awful but his death was the best thing that ever happened to Julia.”
“Why?”
She groaned softly as his fingers swept over her shoulders to massage her neck, bringing her forward so her warm heat teased and danced into his personal space.
“He was a son of a bitch. For years Mom put up with the constant criticism, the verbal abuse, the stress of living with an alcoholic gambler. My earliest memory is of them arguing. He blamed the bosses who fired him because he screwed up, then the government for a measly pension. He was in denial—yelled at Mom for spending too much and wanting the impossible. As if paying food and utilities was too much to ask.”
A small vibration against Finn’s thigh had him glancing down. Ally’s knee had begun to jiggle a rapid tattoo, her fingers entwining and doing a thread-squeeze-release, thread-squeeze-release over and over. He dragged his gaze from those fingers back to her grim profile.
“Tell me, Ally. It’ll help,” he finally said, releasing her.
She looked nonplussed. “Who are you? And what have you done with Finn Sørensen?”
“Like I said, I’ve changed.”
“More like regressed. Back into the same man I first met, who says what he feels.”
Her admission brought a tight smile to his lips. “I have restrictions in Denmark. Protocols. But here…” He shrugged. “I can’t explain it. But I feel more relaxed. More…like myself. Does that sound strange?”
“Not at all. It was something you loved about this country. Anonymity is a wonderful freedom.”
They fell silent, and Ally wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was.
“So, you were saying about your family…?”
She sighed, twisting the edge of her pajamas into a tight knot. “Isn’t that enough?”
“The greatest influences in our lives come from our parents.”
“Now there’s a statement.”
He leaned back, placing his hands behind his head and just watched her. Finally she continued. “Padraic laid blame. That’s what he did. I can see myself doing it, too, and I hate it.”
A small silence, then Finn said, “He’s gone, elskat.”
“I know. But he’s left this…this imprint, as though he hasn’t really left at all. I still keep money in the bottom of my wardrobe for a ‘rainy day.’ I hate to argue, can’t stand it when people lie. And as you can see from my mess, I don’t get up at the crack of dawn to dust and polish. I need…” To be needed. She swallowed that naked confession and instead said, “Julia still runs away from responsibility because my dad made her drag it around for so long.”
“What’s she like?”
“Still searching for what, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’m pretty sure she never wanted a child, because she left me with Lexie after the insurance came through. I love Julia but—” her chin tilted down, sweeping curtains of curls forward “—I don’t understand her. Every birthday I’d wait for a mother who promised to arrive but never did. When she did—months later—it was like a stranger breezing into our lives with gifts and laughter and hope.
“She’d stay a week, maybe two, until she ended up in a row with Lexie, or until the wunderlust got the better of her. And she’d be off the next day. Always promising to be back. Never delivering. I don’t know—maybe I’m a reminder of bad things. But it was the story of her life. My dad ignored or lied about his problems, and my mom ran away from hers.”
It took her a few seconds to register that Finn was holding her hand, effectively cutting off the nervous wringing she only half realized she’d been doing. She stared at their entwined fingers but didn’t pull away.
“You’re not like your mother,” Finn said gently.
“No?” She raised uncertain eyes to his. “The last time Mom left I vowed never to let deception ruin my life. I left you because of a lot of things—and one of those was fear. Fear of not being wanted, fear that someone would dig something up and that it would make your family resent me. You’re a national celebrity, married to a common, unemployed nobody.”
“Ally…” He stroked her fingers, taking simple forbidden pleasure in the intimate contact. “There is nothing common about you. It sounds like Marlene got to you.”
“She told the truth.”
He leaned over until he could see the rings of dark-blue around her irises. Wondered if he’d ever been so moved by a pair of eyes before, so lost in the complexity of their depth. “Our ancestors were Viking raiders—hardly candidates for modern knighthood. I am a bu
sinessman, not a celebrity, and if I wait long enough, another story will take the press’s fancy. And you—” he gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear “—are the most uncommon woman I have ever met. You’re funny, compassionate. Gorgeous.”
Her breath hitched as if she had swallowed a laugh. “Gorgeous?”
“Gorgeous,” he confirmed. He tipped her chin up, making sure she knew how serious he was. Her involuntary shiver made him smile. “And I’m finding it increasingly hard to resist kissing you again.”
Her lips parted, let out a sigh. “So what—” she blinked slowly “—is stopping you?”
He nearly went up in flames right then and there. With his heart thundering away in his chest, he bent forward, meeting her halfway, murmuring against her mouth, “absolutely nothing.”
After a few minutes of blissful mouth-on-mouth contact, of soft sighs and gentle rasping of skin on skin, Finn felt her pull away.
“Don’t, elskat. I want to—”
He never got to finish that sentence because with a small groan, Ally jumped to her feet and ran for the bathroom.
Fourteen
As she threw up into the toilet bowl, Finn gently tapped on the bathroom door.
“In a minute,” she gasped, finally sitting back on her heels and wiping her forehead with a damp cloth.
“I’ve never had this reaction to a kiss before,” his muffled reply came through the locked door.
“Funny. You’re making jokes while I throw up. Can you just forget this bit ever happened?” She rose slowly to her feet.
“That’s my specialty.”
She gave a choked laugh and reached for her toothbrush, then unlocked the door.
“Must be coming down with something,” she muttered and stuck the brush in her mouth.
“I told you you were warm.” His concerned gaze swept over her and Ally was suddenly aware that she was standing there in a pair of ratty drawstring pajama bottoms and a spaghetti-strap tank with a too-tight front.
When he met her eyes, her heart fluttered, tightening just a little more. His gentle expression quickened her breath until she forced herself to take a slower one. Everything depended on keeping a tight rein on her feelings. If she slipped up, certain heartbreak lurked just around the corner.