by Eliza Watson
I struggled to swallow the lump of emotion in my throat. “I can’t even imagine what you went through.”
He nodded. “This has been a difficult program for me. Maybe it’s time for a new job. A new life. A new outlook on life.”
Seized by the overwhelming fear that I’d never see Declan again, I blurted out, “You can’t quit. I mean, you’re so good at your job. Why would you want to quit? What would you do?”
Was he done avoiding his life? Was he returning to Ireland to finally face his ghosts?
He shrugged. “Not sure. Might stay with my brother for a while and see what London has to offer.”
But Brecker went to Dublin, not London. I wouldn’t be able to afford to fly to London to see him, and what excuse could I use? Not my rellies. They lived in Ireland.
“I’ll never see you again.”
I cared about Declan. A lot more than I wanted to admit.
Since he was here, he had to care about me.
“You’d see me again,” he said.
Staring deep into my eyes, he stepped slowly toward me until we were just inches apart.
Omigod. He was going to kiss me.
My mind raced over how to react, while my feet remained firmly planted. He lowered his head, bringing his lips to mine. My breath caught in my throat. His lips were soft and warm, the kiss gentle. My entire body flushed. I drew my head back slightly, being the one to back away from the kiss this time. Even though I didn’t want to, I had to. Kissing Declan would make our relationship even more complicated and take it to a whole different level. At least for me.
I turned to walk away, and Declan slipped his hand around mine, stopping me. “Please don’t leave.” I hesitantly turned to him, and he drew me toward him, his eyes pleading with me. “I need you to stay. I need you…” he whispered, his breath warm against my face. He captured my lips with his. He slipped his arms around my waist and curled his fingers into my soft blue sweater, drawing me snugly against him, deepening the kiss. I swept my hands up over his muscular chest and laced my fingers around the back of his neck. My body on fire, I melted against him. A groan traveled up my throat and into Declan’s mouth.
I never wanted the moment to end…
“Mademoiselle! Monsieur! Arrêtez!” Stop! A harsh, annoyingly familiar voice yelled across the room. The security guard who’d kicked me out.
Defying the man’s objections, Declan tightened his embrace, and his kiss grew more urgent and passionate. I returned his fervor, running my hands through the back of his hair. Something I’d dreamed of doing forever.
The guard’s sharp clap pierced the air. “This is quite inappropriate behavior at a museum…”
I tuned out the irritating man. Lost in the kiss, I didn’t care that I was about to get kicked out of the Musée d’Orsay for likely a record second time or that I had no idea where Declan and my relationship would go from here.
Except that we were going to Dublin at Christmas.
Coming July 2017
About Eliza Watson
When Eliza isn’t traveling for her job as an event planner, or tracing her ancestry roots through Ireland, she is at home in Wisconsin working on her next novel. She enjoys bouncing ideas off her husband, Mark, and her cats Quigley, Frankie, and Sammy.
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