by Fiona Archer
“The people I work with are generous with their hearts.”
It’s the opening I’ve been waiting for. “And are you, Jenna?” At her quizzical look, I rephrase my question. “Are you generous—perhaps with your time? Maybe long enough for me to offer a proper apology?”
“What for, Professor? Not grading my final exam high enough? I still pulled out an A,” she mocks as she storms through the salon doors. Instead of the elevator, she hurries down the stairs. We don’t speak until we reach the street.
I frown as I reach for her arm. “Have you changed so much in five years, Jenna?”
“Why do you care? I found I learned a lot from you, Professor. Should I genuflect, or would a simple thank-you suffice?”
“It’s Finn, Jenna. And I’m sure whatever success you’ve attained is well earned. Perhaps can we take a moment to talk about what happened?”
“There’s no need,” she shoots back. “Let’s keep it on the same level you left it. Over.”
“Where I left it was wrong,” I say gently.
“Really? Which part of it was so wrong?”
“The part where I…” I begin, but Jenna interrupts.
“All damn semester you kept giving me signs you were as hungry as I was for something more. I wasn’t so naïve, nor was I so innocent, not to recognize them. So, Professor, you can take your apology and get the hell away from me. You told me to wish on a star—well, surprise. I did.”
“What did you wish for?” My heart aches at the bitterness in her voice.
“I wished for a man who would take one look at me and recognize me for what I am—worthy.” She seethes. “Since you determined that wasn’t you, I’ll be professional as I help your sister’s dreams come true. Then we never have to see each other again.”
God, the pain her words cause. “Don’t you want an explanation?”
“What’s the point?” She tosses her long hair. I want to sink my hands into it again before I lift her mouth up to mine. “Nine days. You only have to have to deal with me until the ceremony’s over. Then I’ll be gone.”
My nostrils flare as her words burn through me. “What makes you think I want that?”
“Who says you have a choice? In fact”—she approaches me, hips swaying—“I’m damn certain you never gave me one.” Her fingertip drags down the front of my shirt.
I grab her hand. “Be careful, little girl,” I growl.
“Why, Professor?” Her lips curve. “Your factual assumption still needs correction, I see.”
“Oh?” I can barely get the word out when she presses the lean length of her body against mine.
She rises up on her tiptoes to whisper in my ear, “I wasn’t a little girl then, and I’m sure as fuck not one now.” She goes to pull away.
Too bad for her because my arm’s around her waist, hauling her back to exactly where she was. My head’s already lowering when I whisper, “Thank Christ for that.”
Then I kiss her.
Chapter Three
Jenna
Somehow, we manage to make it back to the Merrion without bursting into flames. Dragging me close, he murmurs, “You have about three seconds to decide where—your room or mine?” I’m confused until I remember the wedding is taking place here at the hotel.
“Mine.” Because later, I want the scent of him wrapped around me when I cry. If my fairy tale only includes two moments of love to cherish, I want to linger over them as long as I can.
Once inside the lift, Finn backs me against the wall near the buttons. Pressing one, he begins to feast on my neck. “How do you know what room I’m in?” I manage to gasp out.
“Because your room is right next door to mine, mo chroí.” My head jerks back at the proclamation, but before I can get any words out, Finn’s lips are devouring mine.
He silences any questions with deep, hungry kisses as he frames my face with his large hands. How could I have forgot how delicate he made me feel? I think wildly as I shove my hands beneath his jacket, eager to be touching him. His tongue and mine stroke against one another over and over until a ping notifies us of our arrival.
“Quickly now.” Finn drags me behind him. Despite having followed him through the streets of Dublin, I feel like my legs are almost weighed down now that we’re here.
“I can’t move that fast.” The next thing I know, I’m being swung up into his strong arms. “Finn!” I exclaim just before his mouth crashes down.
With his lips still on mine, our kisses growing more frantic by the moment, we reach my door. Lowered down, I spin around and fumble with the card to open the lock. As soon as I manage it, Finn is nudging me through. Seconds later, my bag is flying through the air. I watch it land over Finn’s shoulder as he hauls me off in the direction of the bedroom.
Sliding down off his shoulder is more erotic than any touch in my memory. Slowly, Finn lowers me inch by inch until our bodies align before his diabolical lips descend. Within moments, my dress is flung aside, and I manage to tear off his jacket and shirt, the sound of the buttons popping causing a rush of wetness between my legs.
Finn moans when he touches the scraps of lace I have on beneath my dress. “I haven’t found a moment’s peace since you.”
What? “That’s not possible,” I breathe as we fall onto the bed.
“Later,” he pleads as his wide chest lowers onto me. My fingers scrape along his back uncertainly, the need to touch him warring with the knowledge I’ll be broken if I do.
“Touch me. Make a memory with me for when we’re not together,” he rasps.
Those words break what’s left of my soul, my reservations. Because I need to revel here in this world with Finn.
Rolling us both, he makes quick work of his belt and slacks, shucking off everything after tossing his wallet near my head. Seconds later, I rise above him to look my fill.
“You still take my breath away,” I whisper. It wasn’t his looks that first drew me to him; it was his mind. The time we spent arguing in class where all the other voices fell away. Then one day I got lost looking at his full lips. And I blushed to the roots of my hair.
His face might have a few lines on it, some silver through his black hair now, but he’s still the man I handed my heart to. Bending over, I place my lips over on his chest. Then I moan when his hands slide down my spine, releasing my bra before cupping my breast, teasing the nipples. “And you give me life, Jenna.” It sounds like a vow.
If only I could believe him.
I brush my now bare nipples against his hair-roughened chest. “God, Finn. Feels so good.”
He rolls us both over, powerful muscles flexing. There’s a crinkle of a wrapper, a pause, before there’s nothing but the feel of our bodies as his thick cock nudges against my folds. Slowly, his erection stretches me until he’s fully lodged inside of me.
“So bloody perfect. I…” But I don’t want to ruin this with words. So I arch my hips and capture his lips at the same time. I moan in pleasure, in pain, as he begins to thrust inside me.
I’m not sure if I remember to breathe as I allow my body to communicate everything I would never dare to say: I miss you. I don’t know what I did wrong. I still love you. And I feel the conflict in his as he kisses me, hips pistoning steadily, so hard and thick inside me.
“Don’t stop,” I beg, needing desperately to finish this story once and for all so I can move on once our climax comes.
A rough growl next to my ear intensifies my own pleasure. Tighter and tighter, with each hard thrust until I begin quivering around him. He pushes deep inside me as he rides out his own orgasm.
As I drift off to sleep, tears saturate my pillow.
* * * *
I scrunch my nose as it’s being tickled with the ends of my hair. “Go’way,” I mumble.
“Not until we talk, mo chroí. It’s long past due.” I freeze when I hear Finn’s dark voice in my ear. Rolling over, I find him stretched out next to me dressed in only his slacks.
“You’re
still here?” I ask wildly.
His face hardens at the question. “And that’s one of the things we’ll be discussing. Best be putting on a robe before I tumble you back against these sheets, Jenna.”
Quickly, I slip from the bed and head into the bath. Giving myself a moment, I clean up before reaching for one of the robes. Entering the bedroom, I find Finn sitting on the edge of the bed, fingers laced behind the back of his head. My heart twists painfully, but I begin. “You didn’t have to stay…”
He’s on his feet in a flash. “You’re going to let me explain, damn you,” he roars.
His temper sparks my own. “I’m not the one who ran!” I yell.
That calms him. “I was a fool, and I paid the price.”
“What price?” I ask bitterly.
“I didn’t have you,” he says simply. He makes his way toward me, but I hold up a hand to stop him.
“Don’t. If you don’t mean this, then just leave.” I can’t stop the fiery track of tears from flowing down my cheeks.
“I thought I was giving you a life,” he says hoarsely.
“You gave me nothing I couldn’t have had with you,” I fling back. “And it’s nothing I won’t have once you’re gone.”
He flinches. “Don’t you understand? I had to set you free.”
“To do what, Finn? To live without you?”
He holds my gaze. “If that’s what was meant to be, then yes.”
My heart stops in my chest. “What are you saying?” I whisper.
He sidles up next to me and slips his fingers inside my robe. Fingers against my heart, he rasps, “I had to let you chase the world so if you came back, I knew you’d stay. So I knew this would beat for me and not yearn for something else. You were so young…”
“And you were an idiot!” I shout. Shocking him, I shove Finn back at least a foot. “I traveled the world because I couldn’t have the one piece of it I wanted.”
“What’s that?” The words are dragged from him.
I bare my soul to him. “You. All I wanted was you.”
“Christ, I’m a stupid feck.”
“If that means you’re an idiot, I agree,” I grumble as he pulls me close to his heart.
“My seanmháthair will wholeheartedly agree.”
Tipping my head back, I ask, “What does that mean?”
“My grandmother. For what it’s worth, she said that not long after I came home.”
Home. Suddenly my eyes grow wide. “Finn, I’m expected home in…”
“I know.”
Eyes narrowing, I ask, “How?”
“Maura is very engaging, is she not? She asked your Emily where to send you thank-you flowers when you left here. So, tell me, mo chroí, would you like a visitor after the wedding?”
Even though it feels like all my wishes are coming true, I cautiously say, “Let’s get through the wedding first.”
Tugging me back toward the bed by the robe’s belt, Finn agrees. “Of course.”
“And what does ‘mo chroí’”—I massacre the pronunciation—“mean anyway?”
Tugging me back down on top of him, he cups my face in his hands before he whispers, “My heart.”
Shit. With a sigh, I weaken. “If this happens, I just hope you’re ready to meet my family. Some of them can be…protective.” I think of Caleb, Keene, and Colby briefly, wincing, before Finn distracts me.
“We’ll talk about them more. Later.”
“Later,” I murmur. Then I press my lips against his.
* * * *
Finn uses the next eight days to solidify his argument—the one dancing at his sister’s wedding being the most persuasive.
“My wish is to never live without you.”
Epilogue
Jenna
Tenderly, I drag my finger down the cheek of our newborn daughter. It’s the first time we’ve been alone since coming home from the hospital five days ago. Understandable, really, with Finn’s and my families descending to meet her. But now the excitement’s died down, I have an important story to share.
“Hannah, there’s going to be many things we teach you over the years. But the most important thing to remember is—” I’m interrupted by the door opening.
Finn strolls in bearing a tray filled with goodies including, my eyes note, a blue box tied with a white bow. “Why do you have a guilty look on your face, Jenna?” he demands.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Plunking the tray down on a nearby table, Finn stalks over to the bed. “I thought we decided to tell her together.” The same pique that used to appear on his face when I’d disagree with him in class crosses his face.
It turned me on then; it still does today.
Fortunately, now I can do what I want to make it disappear. Pulling him close, I kiss him with all the love in my heart. “I only just started,” I whisper against his lips.
Crawling onto the bed next to me, he wraps both of us up in his strong arms. “I foolishly sent your mother away to make a wish upon the stars,” he says hollowly.
Smiling tenderly, I murmur, “I hadn’t got there yet.”
“Oh.” He nuzzles the hair away from my neck before pressing his lips there. “How far along were you?”
As I’m wrapped in his arms, as Finn’s teeth rake along my neck, I realize Hannah doesn’t need to know about the years we lost. Nor do I need to share the passion that exploded between us when we reunited. All she needs to know is, “Once upon a time, there was a princess who was free to wish. And she loved making wishes more than anything.”
Wetness from Finn’s eyes drips down onto my bare shoulder as I tell an abbreviated version of our story to our daughter.
One day, she might need to know it all as she fights for her own happily ever after. But not today.
Copyright 2020 Tracey Jerald
About Tracey Jerald
Tracey Jerald knew she was meant to be a writer when she would re-write the ending of books in her head when she was growing up in southern Connecticut. When she’s not busy with her family or writing, Tracey can be found in her home in north Florida drinking coffee, reading, training for a runDisney event, or feeding her addiction to HGTV. Visit her website, www.traceyjerald.com, to get all of her up to date social media links!
Also by Tracey Jerald
Amaryllis Series
Free to Dream
Free to Run
Free to Rejoice
Free to Breathe
Free to Believe
Free to Live
Free to Wish – 1,001 Dark Nights Short Story!
Free to Dance – coming May 10!
Return by Air
Return by Land
Return by Sea
Standalones
Close Match
Ripple Effect
The Forbidden Fiancée
by
Zoe Hill
Chapter One
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” My half-sister Rosalie’s tone is playful when she stands on her tiptoes to whisper in my ear.
I keep my gaze firmly locked on Sophia Ingram. The flaxen-haired beauty is a vision in her satin and lace ballgown. My younger brother circles her, brazenly attempting to play the besotted fool so he can scare off the other men trying to monopolize Sophia’s attention. Of course, she ignores them all, seeming content to shoot surreptitious looks and flirty smiles my way.
“Beautiful,” I reply without thinking. “Stunning.”
My sister sidles in front of me and pats my chest with her gloved hand. “It’s taken you long enough.”
Cocking an eyebrow, I ask, “To what?”
Instead of answering my question, Rosalie tilts her head in the direction of our brother. “Seems like Harrison’s noticed her as well.”
I grunt. Rosalie smiles. Together, we watch Harrison try his best to keep his eyes off the deep cleavage being presented to him by the tight bodice of Sophia’s dress. Every time she inhales, his eyes darken with a lecherou
s intent, and I’m forced to swallow my desire to storm over and knock his teeth down his throat before I throw Sophia over my shoulder and run away with her.
It gets harder each time, but I manage by telling myself the same thing I’ve told myself since she made her interest in me known…
Thirty-one does not go into eighteen. No matter how much eighteen’s begging eyes and knowing smiles singe me on the spot.
“So what are you going to do about it?”
It’s obvious that my sister is angling for something because she rarely acknowledges me in public. Our mothers drove a wedge between us before she was even born. I understand her predicament, though. I’m thirteen years older. The illegitimate son. Publicly known for using bloody methods to fix our father’s problems. Any one of those facts would be more than enough to create distance between even the best-intentioned siblings.
Since I spent eight years living in a Croatian orphanage after my mother’s family rejected me, I’m used to being treated as a pariah. That situation isn’t going to change, either, while our father is forced to accept my presence in America so his enemies can’t use me against him.
Rosalie’s conditional acceptance of me and Harrison’s cold dismissal is a small price to pay for the close proximity I’ve gained to my sperm donor.
How else will I discover if he’s the reason my mother was murdered?
“I don’t think Harrison’s her type.” Rosalie’s shrill voice interrupts my internal musings. “No, Sophia prefers a more mature kind of man. A quiet man. Someone who’s picky about the company he keeps and proudly protects the woman on his arm.”
“Lee-Lee,” I caution in a growl. “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
Pretending that thoughts of Sophia on my arm aren’t driving me wild, I spear my sister with a narrow-eyed gaze. “Whatever the fuck you’re doing…”