Scared that Daniel would give her the once-over and then toss her out like a worn Prada hobo with a broken strap.
But that wasn’t Daniel. Maybe there were men in the world like that—tons in New York—but not him.
Emotionally crippled? Yes. Hard-hearted? Nope. Not a chance.
The man was as much a soft touch as…her.
Catherine started to smile.
“Well, glad to see something perked you up,” her mother said.
Catherine was saved from a response by the two thumps at the metal gate, and then slowly, blessedly, it creaked upward, and the old woman appeared.
“Yes!” exclaimed Sybil, standing up, dusting off her dress.
The old woman looked at Catherine. “You take the Chanel?”
Catherine looked at the bag, noticed the white dye that was coming off on her hands. She glanced at the woman and grinned. “Mom, you owe me a bag. Pay up.”
DANIEL SHUFFLED the pile of printouts in front of him, but it didn’t matter how he realigned the piles. Everything was the same. Three months of imaged invoices exactly matched what the accounting system said they would, and unless somebody could pull a rabbit out of hat, or a Rembrandt out of a garage sale, Montefiore and Chadwick were about to get busted for collusion. Once was maybe a coincidence, but six months’ worth? No way.
It was going to kill Catherine, and he knew it.
With a heavy sigh, Daniel put his desk back in order, stuffed some papers in his briefcase and pushed the chair back neatly where it belonged. An hour from now, he was supposed to work at Prime. This day just couldn’t get any worse.
ON SATURDAY NIGHTS, the bar was a meat market. There were no other polite words for it, only some words that Daniel didn’t like to think about because they reminded him of how ancient he felt. Sean loved it, though—he adored women. Everything about them. Cain was tending at the side bar, with Sean at the main bar in the back. Daniel shouldered through a group of androgynous goth types, past a cluster of women in tanks tops and shorts, past the pack of business suits, until he finally broke free. The first thing Daniel saw was that the tarp was still up and covering a good quarter of the rear wall. Not a good sign. Sean was pulling beers, pouring shots and making a hundred women deliriously happy, all at the same time.
“I thought you were going to solve the permit problem so that Gabe could fix the wall,” Daniel yelled above the crowd.
Sean pulled his hands off the tap and lifted them helplessly. “We’re still officially a historic building.”
“I’ll be downstairs,” said Daniel, hoping to elude bartending duty tonight. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with lusty females on the make and the surly males who chased after them. There were times that Daniel didn’t mind the games, but right now, he was no better than any other surly male in the bar, and his balls had been twisted into an ugly shade of blue. All in all, he wasn’t a happy guy.
He took the steps downstairs two at a time, until he rounded the corner where he caught Gabe and Tessa locked together, his brother’s hand halfway down her ass, and Daniel rubbed his eyes.
Not now.
He coughed, loudly, and they sprang apart. “Sorry,” murmured Tessa, color high on her cheeks. Gabe just shrugged.
Jerk.
Ah, crap, thought Daniel, because he didn’t want to be mad at Gabe for being happy.
“I’ll go,” offered Tessa. “I was only here to get…uh, limes.” She headed for the stairs when Gabe stopped her.
“Limes?”
“Right. Sorry,” she said, pulling out a box of limes and then dashing upstairs, Gabe watching her with love-struck eyes.
“I was going to work,” Daniel said, as a way of apology for interrupting. He wanted his brother to be happy. He knew Gabe and Tessa were meant to be together. In fact, he’d done his part to get them together. Sometimes, though, it felt like ten thousand bamboo shoots right under the nails. “I saw Cain upstairs. Is that all right?” he asked nicely, politely, brotherly. Excellent work.
Gabe nodded. “Are you okay?”
Daniel looked at his brother. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. Just curious.”
“I’m fine.”
“How’s work?”
Daniel stared, trying to figure out why Gabe cared about his work. “Why?”
“You’ve been so busy.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s this audit,” he answered, uncomfortable with the way Gabe was staring at him. “Sean says we’re still a historic building.”
“Yup. He thinks the holdup with the permits is coming from the mayor’s office, but why does the mayor’s office care about a bar? A city of eight million people, and they have to mess with my bar?”
“Sorry.”
“Nah. I’m only whining. Let me go upstairs, before Sean decides to leave.”
“He’s getting off early tonight?” asked Daniel. He didn’t want to close. He didn’t want to stay in a dark hole, staring at a computer until 4:00 a.m.
“Don’t panic. I need you to cover the back bar after Cain leaves, but that’s only eleven to one. You can handle two hours, right?” he asked, making Daniel feel like a jerk, once again.
“Absolutely. Let me get the payroll done, and I’ll be with you.”
He was halfway through the checks when his cell rang, the ID blocked.
“O’Sullivan,” he answered.
“Daniel?”
It was Catherine.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said.
“I changed my mind. I want to see you.”
“When?” he asked, instantly alert.
“Now?” she asked, her voice so soft he barely heard the words. “Is that a problem?”
“No. Not a problem…oh…” he muttered, remembering where he was, remembering what he was supposed to be doing.
“It’s a problem. Never mind,” she said, and he hated disappointing her.
“No! Wait. It’s not a problem. I swear.”
“If you have plans or something—”
“No plans at all. I’m sitting here, doing nothing. Hanging out. Watching some TV. Nothing. Honest.”
Gabe would understand, or Gabe would understand if Daniel told him the truth, which he had no intention of doing because they wouldn’t understand about Catherine. They would think…well, he had no idea what they would think, but whatever they thought, it’d be wrong, and he wasn’t ready to deal with that because he didn’t know what to think himself.
Catherine needed him. That was all that was important right now.
“You can come over?”
“Yeah. Just tell me where to go.”
After he hung up, he stared at the computer screen for a second, the numbers blurring there. He twisted the gold band off his finger, and tucked it in his pocket. It was getting easier and easier to take off, and Daniel didn’t want to think about what that said about him, about the feelings that he’d once had—still had—for his wife.
Catherine needed him. He should change first. Shower. Maybe cologne. No, not cologne. That was too much. Then he was taking the stairs two at a time, and spotting Gabe working next to Sean. Tessa was sitting at the bar, joking with both of them.
“I have to go,” he told Gabe.
Both brothers stared. “Now?” asked Gabe.
Daniel looked around at the crowded bar. “Yes,” he said hopefully.
“Why?” asked Sean, eyes suspicious. That was Sean, always thinking the worst. This time, he was right. “Why?” Sean repeated.
This time Daniel was going to have to give an answer. “Work.”
Gabe looked at him skeptically. “It’s Saturday night. What accounting crises occur on Saturday night?”
“Bad, bad, really bad ones.”
Gabe sighed. “Go. We’ll cover. Tessa can bartend.”
“You will owe me significant favors for this one, Gabe,” she snapped.
Gabe laughed, and they shared a look. “And you’ll
love every minute of it.”
For a second Daniel stood, unable to move, watching the two of them, so together, so not alone. Daniel was tired of being alone, as well.
12
IT TOOK ONE HOUR, twenty-seven minutes and thirty-three seconds for the buzzer to ring, and in that one hour, twenty-seven minutes and thirty-three seconds, Catherine did nothing but stare at the door, her heart pounding like an out-of-body experience, as if the throbbing organ was sitting across the room and she could hear it beat, watch it pulse.
She buzzed him up and closed her eyes, praying this was the right thing. A moment later, Daniel was at her door, holding a briefcase and wearing a dark suit. Okay, maybe she hadn’t been clear. She hadn’t specified what she changed her mind about. Maybe he assumed this was business. His gaze raked over her for a second, taking in her dress, the cute white toeless pumps on her feet.
“Come on in,” she said.
“Did you want to go out?” he asked, his voice carefully polite, his feet firmly planted behind her threshold, his locked jaw looking as if it were seconds from breaking.
Catherine hesitated because it was time to either put up or shut up, and decisions had never come easy to her. Finally she shook her head once, and she watched his chest expand as he exhaled. He came in, and she shut the door, and they were alone. Uh-oh, who went first? He was the man, but she was the hostess. Should she offer him a drink? All she had was tomato juice and some out-of-date milk. Oh, gosh, she was going to make him sick. She couldn’t even wing this. Catherine looked at him helplessly.
“I—” she began, and didn’t get any further. Thank you, Daniel.
He grabbed her, pinned her against the door and was kissing her as if there wasn’t going to be tomato juice, or milk or even tomorrow, which seemed like a fine plan to Catherine. She wasn’t ready to think about tomorrow, so she poured herself into this, into him. His fingers dragged through her hair, pried against her jaw, and her knees threatened to give out.
His hands dug under her dress, lifting her, raising her skirt, and she locked her legs around him, feeling him heavy against her. He smelled like sandalwood and whiskey…and Daniel.
Days, it’d been only days, and it felt like years, eons, as if whole entire eras had passed. She had missed this.
“Catherine,” he gasped against her neck, and she couldn’t breathe, she could only feel him between her legs. She ground herself against him, he felt so good, so…full. Daniel swore. “Condoms. I brought them. Wait,” he muttered.
He braced her, and her hips moved automatically, the friction drenching her panties with the feel of it. Were his arms shaking, or was that her? She was shaking. Yes, she was definitely shaking. It was cold. It was hot. Her heart was going to explode. That’s it, her heart was going to explode.
She heard the rasp of his zipper, heard the deafening rip of her panties, and then…
For a second he froze. She stopped, too, her mouth stuck ingloriously open. Her eyes met his; his gray turned to full-on black.
And Daniel was inside her.
He began to move, his big chest heaving with effort, his hands urgently kneading through what was left of her underwear, and this time, she felt the urge to talk. Very, very, badly.
All these days had turned her into a raving lunatic.
“Please, yes, no, there, oh, oh, oh, oh…”
She heard her shoes fall to the floor, echoing like two shots.
He moved in closer, so there was nothing separating them. Not air, not skin, and he buried his face in her hair, at her neck, his breath heavy in her ear. He was muttering, whispering, groaning—their bodies making the sharp, wet sounds of sex.
His thrusts were harder, deeper. And she wanted even more. She told him so. Oh, man, she’d told him so, she’d never talked like that in her life, and he made a sound. A laugh. A gasp. But he knew, and she stopped trying, she just needed to feel, to absorb.
To come.
Oh, yes.
She could feel it, feel it ripping up inside her….
He pressed once, twice…
Catherine exploded.
Her legs slid down his thighs, wobbly, and he grabbed her when she started to fall. He swore, picked her up and carried her to bed.
“I’ll be one second,” he said, and she adjusted her clothes, making herself decent again, but then he was back and he sat down next to her.
“No,” he said, gently brushing away her hands as she tried to make sense of things. He unzipped her dress, his hands so marvelously tender, and she was still shaking. Then he helped her out of her clothes, fingers gliding over her, touching her, caressing her, and she was glad it was dark. It was so much easier when there were no lights, when she couldn’t see in the shadows, only feel. She used to live to see, but this feeling stuff…sweet.
He unclasped her bra, his mouth taking one breast, then another, and Catherine smiled to herself. Oh, this was nice. So pleasant and easy. His hands slid her panties down her thighs, and she sighed. Everywhere his hands lingered, on her hips, her knees, even her feet. It was her own bliss.
His mouth came back to her mouth, kissing her, lingering, his tie tickling her breasts. He was still wearing a tie, she thought, giggling happily. He played at her neck, her ear, along the curve of her throat.
“Do you have a dawn line, too?” he asked, his lips skimming down her torso.
“Yes,” she replied, wiggling when she felt the stroke of his tongue against her stomach.
“Where does it end? Here?” His fingers slid between her thighs, pushing her legs apart. His mouth stayed on the curve of her belly, playing with her naval, and she felt so heavy, so thick…so ready.
“Here?” he asked. He moved his mouth lower, his tongue finding the fine line between her abdomen and her…
“Here?” he whispered, and put his mouth on her.
Catherine jerked up. He really shouldn’t be doing this. She wasn’t all smooth down there, her thighs were really too big and he wouldn’t last. He couldn’t last….
Oh…
He pulled her skin, suckling her in his mouth, and her head fell back against the pillow again.
His tongue stroked there, and her hips bucked.
He laughed.
Her feet slid up the bed, heels digging in, sliding back and forth, matching the strokes of his tongue, and her hands fisted in the sheets.
Daniel added a finger, and she bucked again. His other hand moved to her hip, and this time it stayed there, keeping her locked in place, while he continued…
Sending her to paradise.
Her heart wasn’t in that good of shape. Chocolate, butter-cream frosting, cream…her arteries were probably already…
Oh…
Oh…
Her mouth fell open again, and she took great gulps of air, trying to breathe. The air—it was too thin, there wasn’t enough of it.
His tongue began to move faster, and Catherine cried out, her calf muscle locked tight, while her heels slid into the bed, and she needed to move, she needed to escape because she was going to explode again.
Oh…
Oh…
Her pelvis bucked up against his mouth, totally inelegant. And her breathing was so loud, so…sooooooooo…
Oh…
Her back arched high, and even his grip couldn’t keep her on land. And she stayed there, floating for a long moment, until finally her body landed back on the mattress, her muscles unclenching but…
“Oh, no, no, no.”
Daniel bolted up. “What’s wrong?”
“Leg cramp,” she said through gritted teeth. “Right. Calf.” Oh, she should be working out.
His thumbs dug into her calf muscle, digging in deep, and for a second the pain was killer, but then it began to fade and she watched his concerned face. He was still wearing a shirt, tie and pants—he’d lost the jacket somewhere—and Catherine grinned, her heart pulling and stretching along with the muscles in her leg.
She could so easily love him.
<
br /> How could she not love him? How could she stop herself from feeling like this? She wasn’t sure that she could. She’d never met anyone like Daniel. Someone who believed in her, someone who supported her, someone who desired her, and someone who understood her.
If only his heart weren’t already taken. At one time, Catherine wouldn’t have the confidence to believe that she could steal his heart. Not anymore. He gave her that confidence, and he probably didn’t even know.
If they were starting new, she knew that his heart would be his. Unfortunately, he wasn’t starting new, and the very thing she loved about him—his steadfastness—was standing in their way. He wasn’t a man who could forget his wife. Ever.
The pain in her leg had disappeared completely and Catherine felt tears pricking at her eyes. Tears. Now wasn’t that the icing on the cake?
Daniel laid down next to her, stroking her hair, her face, kissing the tears away. “I’m sorry it hurts,” he whispered, and he thought she was crying about the muscle cramp. She let him think that, but managed to smile at him.
“I’m so sorry about that. I don’t usually get leg cramps. Never. Ever.” She hoped he wouldn’t hold it against her.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to, uh, cause it.”
“That part was fine,” she told him, because it had been way more than fine.
His tie brushed against her stomach, and she snickered. “You can take off your tie if you want.”
He looked up at it and the nicely wrinkled shirt. “Oh. Sorry.” She looked at him and grinned, then began to laugh. And Daniel grinned, and then laughed, too. She’d never heard him laugh before. He had a nice laugh. Deep and throaty and his chest moved with the force of it.
He took off his tie and his shirt and she was once again exposed to the perfection of his chest. Her hands reached out to touch him and then she realized what she was doing and one hand dropped back to her side. He pulled her hand back. “It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“Good.” Her hands were at his fly. “Because now we need to talk about the pants.”
He laughed, and undressed, and this time when he slid inside her, it was amazing. And as his body moved, she met his eyes. It wasn’t easy to stay there, and her gaze slid away, but he took her chin in his hand, and made her. Watching his face, she knew he was taking things from her, stealing things, and he didn’t have a clue what he was doing to her, making everything she’d ever wished for come true.
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