Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series)

by Michelle Irwin

  “The money is for the children’s hospital. They’re raising money to help save the lives of children and babies. You know Danny loves that it when you show your support for those sorts of causes.”

  I pulled the phone away from my face and let loose a stream of vitriol. With a growl, I banged the fist that held my phone against my forehead. How the fuck was I supposed to say no to something that would help the people who helped my baby? Who had saved her life? “Fine,” I murmured into the phone. Generally I would have ran this past Sinclair’s PR team, but I was certain they’d be too busy with the Bahrain race to worry about what I was doing. Plus, how could they disagree? So long as it was generic ProV8 items, there wasn’t any bad publicity that could come from a fundraiser for a children’s hospital.

  “Wonderful news,” Paige said, her voice full of quiet confidence, as if she’d expected that result all along. She probably had. Manipulative bitch. “I have two spare tickets at the table. I’m sure, based on your reputation, that you shouldn’t have too much trouble finding someone to attend with you. We can’t have our leading man turn up alone, after all.”

  I gritted my teeth. “First, I’m not your ‘leading man,’ and don’t worry I won’t be alone. Just send the details through to my phone.”

  “Absolutely,” Paige’s delighted voice was as soft and creepy as her persuasive tone.

  “Is that all?” I asked.

  “Yes. Although I do wish you would reconsider my offer? I know you’d be very happy here, and we would definitely benefit from your unique talents.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll help out for charity, but that’s it. I’ve told you, I’m still Sinclair through and through.”

  “Such loyalty.” She chuckled before disconnecting the call.

  “Fuck!” I shouted into the empty room, my temporary state of undress forgotten. My phone beeped and I noticed I had a missed call from Ben’s number. Ten minutes earlier. He must have called just as Paige had.

  Shit. Fuck. Damn.

  It meant that Alyssa was already on her way and I had about twenty minutes to finish getting ready. I spent another couple of minutes giving Ben a quick call back to apologise and thank him for helping out. I ended the call asking how Alyssa was when she’d left.

  Ben laughed. “She was a bit pissed about the car you got.”

  I joined in with his laughter, easily able to picture the look on her face when the hot pink stretch Hummer rolled up in front of Ben and Jade’s house.

  “And can I just say wow! You should see her. If I wasn’t married . . .” He gave a low whistle. I heard Jade laughing in the background.

  After hearing Ben’s words, I was even more excited to see Alyssa. She was beautiful to me anyway, but I had a feeling tonight she would look extra special. I pulled on the tuxedo as quickly as I could. Then I checked everything in the ballroom one last time before walking down the stairs to the lobby. My original intention was to wait near the staircase, but because I was so anxious to see her, I soon moved just outside the entrance to greet her there instead. As the minutes dragged on, I kept edging closer to the road until I was standing right next to the bellhop who was helping people from their vehicles.

  Fidgeting with my suit, playing with the bowtie around my neck, and raking my hands through my hair, I counted the seconds as I waited for her. When the huge pink monstrosity turned off the street to head to the hotel, I couldn’t stop myself from leaping forward, knowing that my heart rested inside. I had the door open the instant it stopped.

  When I saw Alyssa, my breath caught. She was too beautiful for words. As I helped her from the Hummer I noticed just how soft and silken the floor-length dress was. The colour made her skin appear almost luminous. The material clung tightly to her body, showing off her curves and leaving nothing to the imagination. I could already envisage peeling it off her later. Her hair was swept up into a loose bun, some curls falling loosely around her face. Her make-up was light and natural.

  Once we were both on the footpath, I guided her into my hold before sweeping one hand from her shoulders to her thighs. “Fuck, Alyssa, you look—” I struggled to find the appropriate sentiment. “Fuck.”

  She flushed a deep shade of crimson before she looked me over. “You look great too, Dec.” She eyed the hotel apprehensively. She whispered, “What are we doing here?”

  “I’m exorcising my demons, and humbly requesting a do-over.” I held out my arm to her. When she linked her arms around it, I led her into the hotel.

  Ignoring the looks from the staff and other visitors, I headed straight for the stairs and walked her into our private function in the ballroom. As soon as the doors opened the sounds of Chicago’s “Hard for me to Say I’m Sorry” filled the room.

  She glanced around her in awe. “What is this?” she asked in a hushed tone.

  “I wanted to tell you what you mean to me. To show you what you’ve always meant to me.”

  “What do you mean?” She looked up at me, her eyes soft and trusting. I led her to the enclosed dance floor, pushing the curtains out of the way. They fell back in place around us, wrapping us in their soft cocoon. I pulled her close and began to slow dance with her while the words I needed to say played around us.

  I looked into her eyes. “I never told you that this is what it felt like when we danced at the school formal.”

  She cocked her head to the side but remained silent.

  “Just the two of us. In our own little world. Everything else around us just . . . faded away.” I pointed to the gossamer curtains, explaining their relevance.

  “I . . . I don’t know what to say,” she whispered. Tears deepened the brown in her eyes, but she was smiling widely.

  “You don’t have to say anything. Let’s just dance for a while, shall we?”

  She nodded and then rested her head on my shoulder.

  I tucked her even closer into me, until her hair brushed softly across my cheek. The song ended and the next one began. Song after song came on as we danced in our own little circle, never breaking contact. I didn’t know if Alyssa realised the significance of the playlist. Each song was a message of apology, or a promise that I wasn’t going anywhere.

  We swayed to our own unique beat regardless of the tempo of the music. I closed my eyes and allowed everything else to fall away. The rhythm of our synchronised breathing was more beautiful than any sounds musicians could compile.

  Finally, it was the time in the playlist for “The Reason” by Hoobastank. It was the message I wanted to deliver more than anything else. I whispered the lyrics against Alyssa’s hair, trying to impart to her exactly how much I meant them. I felt small sobs wrack her body as the words reached her. When I got to the chorus, I pulled back and stared into her eyes.

  Our bodies stopped moving as we pulled back and stared into each other’s souls. I felt that some part of me was repairing slowly. That some place that had gone dark years ago was filling with light. I could only hope Alyssa felt the same way.

  I’d arranged with the DJ for there to be a pause in the apology songs for some instrumental music so we could sit and talk for a while, over dinner. But before we did though, there was one last thing I needed to do.

  I brushed away the remnants of her tears with my finger. Then, after kissing her tear-stained cheeks, I stepped away from her and pulled a small box from my pocket. I sank to my knee in front of her.

  She shook her head a little in disbelief.

  “Lys, I know it’s only been a few weeks that you’ve been back in my life, but you’ve changed me, even in that short amount of time. I feel better about who I am when I’m with you. I love you with all my heart, and I know there will never be anyone else for me. I have no doubts anymore.”

  She shook her head more fiercely and started to talk. I held up a finger and pleaded silently with her to wait. She closed her mouth again.

  “I know this is fast, and I know it is the backwards way of doing things, but I would love for you to move in w
ith me when you come to Sydney.” I flipped open the lid on the box and showed her the set of keys I had arranged to be cut especially for her. The key ring that held them was a smooth, unending silver circle that looked vaguely like a snake eating its own tail. The sales assistant had informed me it was an eternity circle. It was the perfect gift for Alyssa. Of course I could never tell her that it cost almost $300. She would freak if she knew.

  She laughed, relieved. “Oh my God, Declan! You arse. I thought—” She cut off as she slapped my shoulder.

  I stood back up and closed the lid again. I held out the box for her, but she just stared at my hand.

  It was clear what she thought, and I decided to put her worries at bay. “Maybe one day,” I responded wistfully. “But we’re not ready for that just yet.”

  She looked from my hand to my face and back again. “Can . . . can I think about it?”

  I nodded but pressed the box into her hand. “Keep the keys regardless. I want you to be free to come and go as you please. I want you in my life. All of you, or at least, as much as you’ll give me.”

  “Thank you. For the weekend. For tonight. For being here. For everything. This . . . this is something I never even dared to let myself dream of.”

  I pulled her close to me again and put my lips to her ear. “I just want you to be happy. I love you.”

  “I love you too. And I am happy.”

  After pressing my lips to hers for a fraction of a second, I pushed aside the curtain and announced it was time to eat. Half the fairy lights had been turned off and a candlelit table for two had been set up in the room. I had to hand it to the hotel, they were doing everything right, and I hadn’t even noticed them making the changes they had while they set up the dinner table.

  I pulled Alyssa’s chair out for her. When she sat, I kissed her cheek before taking my own seat.

  “Do you ever do anything that is just plain and simple?” she asked, looking around again.

  I grabbed the champagne from the cooler and popped it. As I filled our glasses, I responded, “Why would I do something plain and simple for someone so extraordinary?”

  My words had the desired response—a red flush crossed her cheeks and ran down her chest. She dropped her eyes to the table and fidgeted with the loose strands of her hair. A moment later, she brought her eyes back up to meet mine and gave me a smile.

  “Are you telling me I should just be quiet and accept what you do for me?” she asked.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” I clasped one of her hands in mine, bringing it to my lips before placing it back on the table, still entwined with my own. I didn’t know if you could eat grilled barramundi with one hand, but I was willing to give it a try if it meant not breaking the connection with Alyssa.

  “So what are your plans for tomorrow?” I queried, as we began to pick at our meals.

  “I probably should have told you sooner. I work every Wednesday through Friday, while Phoebe goes to day care. I was on holidays until last Friday and this is my first full week back. So . . .”

  “So, I’ll have to fend for myself.” I quirked my eyebrow at her. “That’s what you’re telling me?”

  She smiled. “However will you cope?”

  “I’m sure I’ll manage . . . somehow,” I joked. I thought now would be the perfect time to tell her about the fundraiser that I had agreed to attend. “Although, there is a way you can make it up to me.”

  Her fork stilled halfway to her mouth and she eyed me warily.

  “I’ve agreed to attend a fundraiser. You know the sort of thing—sign some V8 gear that’s going to be raffled off, have some dinner, and schmooze with the wealthy and wannabe elite. I was wondering whether you’d like to come and be my date. You can help keep me sane.”

  “Well, if your sanity is on the line,” she deadpanned.

  “Absolutely it is,” I argued. “Two hours in a room full of strangers—knowing all the while you are at home waiting for me—may just be enough to destroy my last hold on reality.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.”

  “Exactly. So will you come with me?”

  She tilted her head to the side and then smirked at me. She put the forkful of fish in her mouth and chewed it slowly, as if deliberating. She swallowed. “Okay, but only on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You pick me up from my parents’ house. Mum’ll grab Phoebe from day care like usual so it’ll be easier for me just to get ready and go from there.”

  “Oh, I see how it is,” I joked. “You’re sick of me already and don’t want me around anymore, but you just don’t know how to tell me that.”

  “No,” she said adamantly. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because you know full well Curtis is going to kill me if I go anywhere near your parents’ house.”

  “It’ll be fine,” she said. “He won’t do it while Phoebe’s in the room.”

  I made a mental addition to my list—Curtis needed to be well fed, and Phoebe needed to be around, when I saw him next. Which was going to be tomorrow. I drew a shaky breath. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” she asked, surprise evident in her voice.

  “Okay. I’ll be there at six thirty to pick you up. Curtis be damned.”

  She smiled and reached for my hands. “It’ll be fine, Dec.”

  “No,” I argued. “It won’t. He hates me.”

  “You’re probably right. And he’ll probably have a million and one questions and demands.”

  “I’ll do it,” I said. “Or at least—I’ll try. For you.”

  “Thank you, Dec.”

  “I’ll get a dress delivered to their house. I’ll just need the address.” I figured that they must have moved because their phone number had been disconnected when I’d tried it in London.

  She rolled her eyes. “I can pick my own clothes, Declan.”

  “I know. I just know you won’t have time—and I want you to look stellar . . . not that you don’t always.”

  She laughed. “You’re hopeless.”

  “Hopelessly in love.”

  “Fine, if you have to buy me a dress,” she said the words in disgust, “Do it. But no damn pink Hummer this time.”

  “No problems, baby.” I brought her hand up to my lips again and suddenly had no appetite, except my insatiable desire for her. “Are you done?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you want to dance some more—or can I show you something?”

  She shrugged. “I’m ready to go if you are.”

  I nodded as I stood. The concierge suddenly appeared at my side. “I trust everything went to plan this evening?” he asked.

  “Absolutely,” I said, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off Alyssa long enough to glance in his direction.

  “Well, enjoy the rest of your evening, sir, madam.”

  “We will,” I said. My voice was probably laden with carnal promises, but I couldn’t have cared less.

  “Your car will be waiting out front.”

  “Thank you,” I said, without a backwards glance. “Be sure to leave yourself a little something when you charge my card.”

  Alyssa glanced back, no doubt beginning to wonder just how much it costs to hire the ballroom of the Suncrest Hotel for a private function like the one we’d just shared. I didn’t want to tell her, because the answer was a fuckton of money. But it didn’t matter to me, it was only money, and if I had achieved my goal of erasing some of the pain of the high school formal, it was worth every cent.

  Once Alyssa and I were in the car, I drove across to West End, close to the spot where I had taken Ruby—or more specifically, she had taken me.

  I helped Alyssa across to the railing, and we sat side by side with my arm wrapped over her shoulder, watching the moon over the city. We stayed still for almost half an hour, just revelling in each other, in our relationship, in the quiet.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  “It’s nothing compared t
o the beauty I can see in front of me,” I said, staring at her.

  She smiled at me before nuzzling in closer for a moment. “Let’s go get Phoebe and go home.”

  I pulled her in to me, kissing her hard. Then I nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Even though I’d had another plan for the spot, I’d realised earlier that she still wasn’t ready for what I wanted. I was glad I had done the bait and switch with the key ring. It had given me the perfect opportunity to see how she would react to the more important question.

  I now knew that the ring burning a hole in my pocket would have to wait for a little while longer.

  I HELD Alyssa in my arms, a satisfied smile on my face. Helping her from the dress had been every bit as enjoyable as I’d thought it would be. Phoebe had fallen asleep before we’d arrived home, so we’d just carried her into the house and put her straight into bed. Then I’d enjoyed every part of Alyssa—repeatedly. I still marvelled that I had ever sought comfort in the arms of anyone else. No random encounter could ever match what we shared.

  “Declan!” Alyssa called unexpectedly, her voice filled with terror. “Don’t go . . .,” she whimpered.

  I pulled her closer and kissed her mouth softly. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re my reason to live,” I whispered, to comfort her. “I want to be with you forever.”

  She smiled in her sleep and curled in to me.

  I watched as her emotions flitted across her face. Even though I was starting to grow tired myself, I fought the urge to sleep, more content to watch her sleep.

  “You want me to marry you?” she asked.

  My heart thudded as I held her tightly, waiting for the answer to the dream proposal.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  I kissed her cheek and settled down to sleep, comfortable in the knowledge that eventually—when the time was right—I might get the response that had once scared the hell out of me, but that I now wanted more than anything in the world.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: CREATIVE VISUALISATION

  THE NEXT MORNING, I woke to an empty bed and a silent house. A note from Alyssa rested on the bedside table, thanking me for the previous night, and again for early that morning. She also reminded me to pick her up from her parents’ house, leaving their address at the bottom. I folded it up and put it into my wallet, but not until I had taken an extra minute to read the words a second time.