Soaring

by Jassy Mackenzie

  “Evening, evening,” Noreen said, but I thought she sounded stressed, and she was frowning. “Hi Claire, hi Patrick. Did you have a good day?”

  “Evening, Noreen,” Patrick replied, standing up and greeting her with a handshake. After shaking his hand, Noreen drew the curtains tightly over the kitchen window, and pulled the latch across the inside of the door.

  “Our day’s been wonderful, thanks,” I said. “Is everything okay here?”

  “Well, I think so, now,” Noreen said. “There was an intruder prowling outside the farmhouse earlier, though. Guinness started barking and alerted me.”

  A cold feeling settled in my stomach. “What happened?”

  “He was hiding in the bushes. It looked like one man, on his own. When I let Guinness out, the prowler ran down the driveway, with my dog chasing him. He climbed into a car parked outside, near the hedge. Then he sped off. I jumped into my truck and tried to follow him, but he drove like the devil was after him, and I lost him on the back roads.”

  “What car was it?” Patrick asked.

  “Some sort of smallish white sedan. A Golf, if I had to guess,” Noreen said.

  Patrick and I exchanged a worried glance, and I thought again about the car that had followed us up the hill in the direction of the castle, before Patrick had noticed it and pulled over. That had been a white Golf.

  Was it a paparazzi photographer?

  Worse still, could it be Carlos?

  The shrill whistle of the kettle made us all jump.

  “Shall I drive around and have another look?” Patrick asked, after turning it off.

  “I think he’s well gone now, but I phoned the neighbors just to let them know,” Noreen said. “I guess we’ll have to be careful for the next while, that’s all. Anyway, I’m off to get some sleep. Got an early start in the morning. Somebody’s coming to look at the farm for sale, fingers crossed.”

  Before leaving the kitchen, she paused and turned back. “Please, before you go to bed, will you make sure the door is locked? Just in case?”

  “We’ll make sure,” Patrick promised.

  Noreen left the room, followed closely by Guinness, his paws clicking on the tiles as he trotted along the corridor behind her.

  “The intruder who was here is the same person who was driving behind us today, I’m sure of it,” I said to Patrick in a low voice. Suddenly, I didn’t feel safe in the farmhouse anymore. I was glad the kitchen curtains were drawn, hiding Patrick and me from the prying eyes of cameras. Imagine if Guinness hadn’t been alerted. We could have been photographed through the window. A published image of our kiss would be dynamite.

  Patrick nodded, his face serious. “There’s a good chance it is the same person. I’m going to call up my old contacts tomorrow morning. If you’re being hounded by the media, I want to know who’s behind it and why. Who’s paying Carlos? Your scandal has blown over by now. You shouldn’t be a story anymore. Who’s trying to make sure that you stay in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t know, but it made me fearful to think that somebody might be targeting me that way. What chance did I have, if that were the case?

  “Anyway, coffee time,” Patrick said.

  He got the cups together while I opened the fridge and removed the bowl of clotted cream.

  “This seems to be an Irish tradition,” I told him. “Maybe it’s just a Noreen tradition. Either way, it’s delicious.”

  Patrick grinned, and with his smile, I felt the tension inside me dissolve just a little. “I think it’s an excellent idea,” he said, topping each of the cups with a large dollop of cream.

  The coffee was finished all too fast. For a moment, I felt a sense of panic—how could this day be over so quickly? I wished I could stop time, or hold it back, so that we could sit here for longer.

  And then I replayed Noreen’s words in my mind.

  “Before you go to bed…”

  She hadn’t spoken them to me. She’d addressed both of us, but she had been looking directly at Patrick while she’d said that. And if that was the case, then she was expecting him to stay—or at least, accepting that he might.

  Patrick was obviously thinking along the same lines, because he pushed his cup aside, put his arms round me, and said softly, with his lips tickling my hair, “I think your landlady might have given me permission to sleep over. Do you agree?”

  I could hear the hint of a smile in his voice. As for me, I was filled with a heart-pounding excitement at the thought of this dream becoming reality.

  “I would agree,” I whispered back. “And you’d be doing us a favor. If the intruder came back, you could chase him away.”

  “I could.” He brushed his lips down my cheek. “Let’s lock up and go to bed, then. But first, I want to take a last look outside. I’m going to walk down to the gate and check the road. I’ll be back in ten minutes, if all’s clear.”

  He strode outside, closing the door carefully behind him.

  Chapter 15

  I washed the mugs and put the cream away, and then checked the messages on my phone. If there was anything important from Dave, it was best I listen to it now, before Patrick came back.

  “Hi, Claire. You seem to be hard to get hold of at the moment.” There was an edge of annoyance in Dave’s tone. “Please call me urgently. I need to discuss things with you.”

  I grimaced in frustration, pulling back the curtain and looking outside before I dialed, but there was no sign of Patrick. He’d told me ten minutes and I guessed he might even take longer while doing a thorough check. I would just have to keep my conversation with Dave short.

  Of course, Dave didn’t answer, and I had to leave a message and sit watching my phone, willing him to call back quickly. It felt as if more than ten minutes had passed by the time my phone rang, and I snatched it up immediately, not wanting to waste a moment.

  “Hi, Claire. Have you sorted out that medical report?”

  “No, I haven’t had time,” I said. In fact, I hadn’t even thought about it. But the fencing I’d done at the castle had convinced me there was no permanent damage to my arm.

  “Well, get it done. Now, listen. Things are looking very positive for this meeting. Daniel has been able to convince the other shareholders that you’re a bankable prospect in spite of this hiccup. Obviously, your rankings need to improve, but we can work on that.”

  “Yes,” I said, trying to sound more optimistic than I felt.

  “We’ll also need to present a united front in our marriage. Family values, that’s what the brand is all about. Healthy activity, family time. We need to try again, Claire. We’ve drifted apart recently, and this must change. I’m willing to do it if you are.”

  Drifted apart? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Dave had been unfaithful for years! Why was he not willing to acknowledge it?

  He wanted to try again…but did I? Could I?

  I didn’t think I could. In that case, we would carry on as before. Living a lie, for the sake of my sponsorship, our lifestyle, my parents.

  “We can talk about that,” I said diplomatically.

  “What did you say? This connection is terrible and it’s noisy here.”

  I could hear the background noise. He sounded as if he was in a shopping mall. I could pick up the clatter of carts.

  “I said we can talk about that,” I repeated more loudly. “But Dave, do you really mean it? The sponsorship is on again? I won’t have to pay anything back for breach of contract?”

  “Not a cent, the way things are looking now. In fact, we can put in a swimming pool for the…”

  “No!” I interrupted. “No pool, Dave! Damn it, you know I didn’t even want us to buy the house. It’s far too big for the two of us, and too expensive. We didn’t have to live in Montclair, in a home with five bedrooms and two entertainment areas.”

  “You think I want to be cooped up in a condo somewhere? Besides, the house is a great investment. It’s in a safe, up
-market neighborhood, and it’s close to your training center and to the airports.”

  Not as close as a small apartment in Newark itself would have been, like the one where Monika lived. But Newark wasn’t good enough for Dave; he needed a better address.

  “I wanted to put my money toward looking after my mother. And I couldn’t do that because of the decisions you’ve been making without consulting me. So no more home improvements until my folks are taken care of.”

  “We’ll talk about that,” Dave said, echoing my words, although in a much sulkier tone.

  “Well, at least it’s good news about the sponsorship.” Now I was trying to placate him.

  “I’ve been working hard on this.” He sounded aggrieved. “You’d lose pretty much everything if it fell through. A thank-you would be nice, if you can spare it.”

  “I’m sorry, Dave,” I said, humbled by his words. Whatever his faults, he had saved this deal for me, and given me a chance at a future. “I really do appreciate what you’ve done. Thank you.”

  “Oh, and there’s a function at the Park Hyatt in New York City on Tuesday night. College Sport wants you to be there. Don’t know if you’ve received the invite, but I’ll forward it to you just in case.”

  “A function on Tuesday night? What function is this?” I asked.

  “Sports Stars Achievement Awards. College Sport is the major sponsor so you need to be seen there. You’ll have to go on your own. I have other plans that night.”

  I wondered briefly what those plans were

  “I’ll put it on my calendar,” I told him.

  “I gotta go,” he said brusquely. “We’ll speak on Monday, then.”

  “Okay.”

  I thought he was going to disconnect, but then he said, “Oh, and Claire, I’ll email you a link. Check it out when you have time. Monika sent it to me a half-hour ago. She was worried about it. Said she forwarded it to you earlier today, but you didn’t respond.”

  I really needed to check my emails. I’d have a look first thing tomorrow morning, I decided.

  “I’ll get back to you on that,” I promised.

  “Speak soon.”

  Dave rang off, and a moment later, the kitchen door opened and Patrick walked in.

  “Nothing to be seen,” he told me. “I went all the way down to the crossroads. Not a car in sight, not a sound. It’s very quiet out.”

  He turned and carefully locked the door.

  “Let me show you where my bedroom is,” I said. I felt like a naughty teenager smuggling a boyfriend in. “You’ll need to be quiet. Some of the stairs creak, and the wooden floorboards are very noisy.”

  “I’ll be right behind you.” His hands smoothed through my hair.

  I turned and tiptoed out of the kitchen, stopping as I passed the fridge to rub the cat’s head. Unimpressed with my attempts at affection, he yawned mightily before settling himself down again.

  Behind me, Patrick clicked off the kitchen light and we crept upstairs.

  The creak of a board behind me made me stop.

  “Sssh,” I warned.

  “Sorry,” he hissed, brushing his hand over my backside by way of apology.

  I felt giggles erupting, and controlled them with an effort. This was fun…I’d never dreamed I’d be sneaking up this squeaky staircase, closely followed by the sexiest man in the world. Never mind that this afternoon we’d made love on the premises of his magnificent castle…here we were now, trying our utmost to be quiet as we crept up to my simple rented room.

  “The bedroom is here,” I whispered, stepping carefully over the floorboard that always moved when I stood on it. “And the bathroom is down the hall.”

  “We must have a shower together.” Patrick stood on the floorboard, which let out a sharp cracking sound. “Oops.”

  I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle an outburst of laughter.

  “There’s no proper shower,” I told him when I could speak again. “Just a claw-footed tub.”

  “Even better.”

  I snapped the bedroom light on. It shone directly over the vase on the desk, crammed with the deep red roses he’d given me, illuminating their petals to a bright ruby. Their rich scent flavored the air. With the thick curtains closed, it felt safe, warm, and private.

  Patrick’s arms enfolded me and eagerly I met his kiss. Just one step in this small room took us to the bed, and we sprawled onto it, locked in each other’s arms, our bodies pressed together. This attraction, this lust between us felt so real, so intense. It dizzied me to know how strongly we both felt it. He couldn’t keep his hands off me any more than I could keep mine away from him. Where we touched, I felt heat spreading through me.

  “Oh, Christ,” he groaned, cupping his hands over my buttocks, his fingers warm on my flesh as he pulled me closer. I ran my fingers over his wide shoulders, feeling the power in them, the way his strongly muscled back tapered to the tautness of his waist.

  Under that sexy exterior, inside the tailored broadcloth of those expensive shirts, he was all raw masculinity. His skin smelled faintly spicy, the subtle fragrance of sandalwood. I didn’t know if it was soap, cologne, or just him. Whichever, I wanted to press my face close to him and breathe it in.

  A heady excitement filled me at the thought of having my way with this gorgeous man while he lay on his back, sprawled so enticingly on my rented bed. I wanted to see him in all his glorious nakedness, to appreciate that taut, toned body that he pushed to the limits of his endurance in the Ironmans.

  I unbuttoned his shirt—carefully, unlike the way he’d ripped mine off my body earlier. All his buttons were intact when I opened it to reveal his lightly tanned midriff—his bulky pectorals and defined abs. I eased the shirt off his arms, over those broad shoulders, and he twisted to help me. Placing the shirt on the room’s only chair, I turned my attention to his pants. I unbelted and unzipped him, tugged them off, the dark gold hairs on his legs tickling my fingers as I did so.

  The pants joined his shirt on the chair and, a moment later, so did his silk boxers. Removing them was a challenge, because he was already so hard, his cock thick and erect, arching upwards toward his navel, its root buried in a soft profusion of deep brown hair. God, I could have feasted my eyes on him for hours…his body was so taut, so ripped, so starkly powerful. But he was watching me, his expression both quizzical and aroused, and suddenly, wickedness overcame me .

  Leaning forward, I blew a stream of air softly along the engorged length of his shaft. My lips were so close that I could sense the heat coming from him, but not quite close enough to touch.

  I buried my fingertips in the softness of his hair, gently caressing the heaviness of his testicles, and this time, I allowed the tip of my tongue to meet his skin in a feather-light caress.

  I heard him groan; half in pleasure, half in frustration, because I knew these teasing touches were whetting his appetite for more, but I decided to prolong his agony just a little, and stroked ever so lightly down his shaft with my left hand, letting my fingertips flutter over him, so that he writhed beneath me, pushing himself up into my hand.

  I took him in my left hand, wrapping my fingers around his length, moving my hand up and down in a way I hoped he would enjoy. From his gasping response, I knew the feelings went beyond enjoyment; and when I took his engorged head in my mouth, he let out a moan, then clapped his own hand over his lips in an attempt to stifle the sounds of delight that he could not stop himself from making.

  I felt as if the sensations storming through his body were rushing into mine as well. I felt emboldened by the power of what I was doing to him, the joy of being able to turn this powerful, self-willed man into a groaning slave, held captive by my actions and his own throbbing desire. I loved the sensation of his cock in my mouth. I stretched my lips wide around it, taking it as deep as it would go. I curled my tongue along his shaft, caressing him, feeling his skin slick and soft, wet from my saliva.

  Gently, I pumped him with my fist, clasped around his r
oot, and it was not long before he tensed, tautened, thrusting his hips into my grasp, his breath sobbing out from between his fingers.

  I felt him come, warm semen pumping into my mouth. My body was tingling all over; I felt dizzied, elated that I’d been able to repay some of the incredible sensory pleasure he had given me.

  “Ah, God, Claire, you don’t know…how good…that was.” His whisper was breathless; his arms locked around me, pulling me to him.

  “My heart is racing,” he breathed in my ear. “I think I may be about to die happy.”

  He kissed me long and deeply, so that my heart, too, began to pound, and I could feel from his hardness against my belly that he was already becoming aroused again.

  Finally, we ended the kiss, and he propped himself on his elbow to stare down at me as he smoothed my hair away from my face.

  “Come on, gorgeous,” he said. “If we don’t take that bath now, we never will.”

  “I’ll get it started,” I told him.

  I tiptoed to the bathroom and removed my make-up while the water began trickling into the deep tub. Watching it was hypnotic, and I found myself having to wrench my eyes away from the flowing stream. The quiet, soothing sound was making me realize how tired I was. After the passion the day had brought, the rich food, the wine… I suddenly wanted to sleep for an eternity, and if I could do so in Patrick’s arms, so much the better.

  I woke in quiet darkness, disoriented after the deepest sleep I could remember, still tangled in the tendrils of half-remembered dreams as I tried to puzzle out where I was.

  I breathed in the heavy, rich scent of the roses, and remembered. I was in the comfortable bed in my lodgings, with the faraway crowing of a rooster signaling that the sun would soon be rising. And I was not alone. Patrick’s sleeping form was cupped behind mine, his arm curled over my waist. His body fitted mine perfectly; my buttocks pressed into his thighs, his breath moving through my hair.