Cormac: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance: Dangerous Doms

by Henry, Jane

  “Go on, now, Mam,” Keenan says soothingly. “He’s alright. You know Cormac. Has to throw himself on the frontline for his girl, but he’ll heal and move on.”

  “You’d bloody better,” she says, giving me a look I haven’t seen since I was an errant teen. “You’ve got a wife and child to look after!”

  I look quickly to Aileen. I swear her belly’s more rounded.

  “The baby isn’t hurt, then?” I ask, sitting up so quickly in bed pain shoots through my shoulder and I wince.

  “Get back on those pillows,” Aileen orders, wagging a finger at me. “The baby’s fine.” She turns to mam. “He’ll be fine, Maeve.” She reaches for my mother’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’ll see to it he doesn’t do anything stupid to jeopardize himself again, alright?”

  “Will you, lass?” I chuckle. “Near death experience freed your tongue, aye?”

  “I’ll tie him to the damn bed if I have to,” she says, ignoring me. “Make him rock the babe, and do the midnight feedings. I’ll exhaust him so he collapses into bed at night and can’t go off chasing the bad guys.”

  Keenan snorts at “the bad guys.”

  “Don’t need a babe to do that,” I mutter. “Already exhausts me.”

  I can’t wait to get her alone again, to hold her in my arms and kiss her. To hear her lilting voice sing the songs of our people. To tug that golden hair. To school that mouth of hers, with pleasure.

  “You’re both alright, then?” I ask.

  Aileen pours me a glass of cold water from a pitcher on the table beside me. “Drink, Cormac,” she says, the edge in her voice softening now. I take the glass and drink. She nods approvingly before she answers. “Aye. We’re fine. The baby’s strong as an ox. Should know the sex next week, if you’re so inclined.”

  “Told you,” I say, teasing her. “Will be a son.”

  She rolls her eyes heavenward. “Because that’s what this family needs is more testosterone.”

  Mam laughs out loud. “Damn right. We need another woman to balance off the sexes. More lavender and pink.”

  Keenan groans.

  I look around the room and realize I’m in the hospital wing at home. “So who’s going to tell me what happened then?”

  Keenan looks to Aileen, and the symbolism of his deferring to her is not lost on me. As Clan Chief, it’s his job to keep me abreast of what happens, but he’s giving her space to do so, recognizing our relationship as husband and wife.

  And it seems as if the ordeal has helped Aileen, too. She fought this. She fought me. She fought our union, and bringing a child into this family. But now it seems she’s assumed her role with grace and strength, and hell if I don’t love her the more for it.

  “Seems the man who worked for my father, the damn bodyguard who stood right outside my door back at home, had a hand in the coke trade. Supplied my brother by skimming off the top of shipments, as it were. I thought Dermot was killed for letting me go, but he wasn’t. He joined up with the O’Gregors in the north, held my brother by the bollox with the coke, set the fire on the greenhouse for vengeance. When that didn’t work, he had other plans.”

  “Motherfucker,” I mutter. “Where’s he now?”

  “Jail,” Keenan mutters. “Club security called it in before we could get to him. Blaine is, too.”

  “Son of a bitch survived then.” I turn to Aileen. “And how do we know all this? I’m guessing Dermot didn’t confess to anything.”

  “Sheena,” she says. “The redheaded reporter?” She grows a little sheepish and looks at her hands. “She was the one who lured me to the club to begin with.”

  “What’s that? What do you mean?”

  She looks at me, then mam and Keenan. It’s the first time she’s told anyone, I’m guessing.

  “That day we were shopping,” she says. “She came to me in the dressing room. Told me I had to get to the club, that my sister was in trouble.”

  My hands clench into fists as she tells me the story, and I steady my breathing to calm myself.

  “And you didn’t tell me.”

  “She told me I couldn’t,” Aileen says. “Look, I know how stupid that was now, but at the time, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  Maybe a good, hard spanking will help her think straight.

  “Don’t blame her, Cormac,” mam says. “Sheena’s the one to blame.”

  “And even then,” Keenan says. “The lass was blackmailed by Dermot and Blaine.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “She fessed up to Nolan.”

  “Aye.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose together to help me think straight.

  “And we’ve been in touch with Martin,” Keenan says. “Shouldn’t have to do anything on our end, brother. You and I both know peace between the clans is of the utmost importance to him. He’ll take care of Dermot and Blaine.”

  “Aye, but I wish I could get out of this bed and take care of them myself.”

  “Of course you do,” Aileen says softly, her hand on my arm. “I know you’d probably like to break their legs, or bust their heads, or put bullets through their pasty white temples, mmm?”

  I grin at her. “You talk about vicious, brutal violence like you’re telling me a bedtime story.”

  She smiles at me, leans down, and kisses me. I’m enveloped in her soft, feminine scent. “And this, my love, is why you and I were meant for each other.”

  Something warms in me at that. She’s changed. Whatever wall that divided us before has crumbled to dust. I squeeze her hand, and she places her head on my chest. I can’t move my left arm easily, but tuck her against me with my right.

  “That’s a good girl,” I whisper. I inhale her scent and hold her to me. It isn’t until I feel the gentle tremble of her shoulders that I realize she’s crying.

  “I thought you were gone,” she says through her tears, her voice choked with meaning and pain. “You bled so much. They had to bandage you up and they moved so damn slow. You passed out on the way, and I thought… I thought…”

  “Shh, sweetheart. It’s alright. You’re a good lass to see me through this. But I’m fine. And you’re alright?”

  “Fine. They used a goddamn electric shock thing to keep me and Sheena in line. Seems the sick fucks at the club use it for fun, hmm?”

  I shake my head. “Not me,” I tell her. “I prefer--”

  I look to mam and stop. Aileen groans.

  “We’ll leave you two,” mam says, looking from me to Aileen with a sort of wistfulness. “She’s a good woman, Cormac. You see to it you treat her right.”

  “The very best,” I agree. “Course I will.”

  As soon as Keenan and mam leave, Aileen climbs straight into the hospital bed beside me. I lift my arm and she crawls under it, burrowing her head on my chest and draping her arm around me.

  “I love you, Cormac McCarthy,” she says, her vivid eyes still shining with tears, but laced with conviction. “I love you so much it hurts right here.” She takes my hand, makes a fist, and places our hands together on her heart. “I knew when I was in that room that you’d come for me. That you’d protect me, no matter what. That you’d do anything for me. I knew it in my heart, and I knew when they took you from me that I wanted that. I wanted you. I wanted us.”

  “I would have,” I say. “Done anything to protect you. And I will yet.”

  “I know it,” she whispers. “I’m—I’m sorry I…” her voice trails off.

  I shake my head. “You’ll not offer any apologies, Aileen. You’ve been through hell, but you’ve come through it stronger. This is no fairy tale. It’s bloody and messy, but in the end we have each other, and that’s what matters. We’ll build a family together, you and I. You’re one of us now.”

  “And God, I love that,” she says, her voice trembling again. “So much, Cormac. Your mother and your brothers and Caitlin and Seamus. I’ve never had the love of family like I do here. And I’ll do my best to be as good to all of you as you
are to me.”

  “You’re already enough, lass.”

  She leans up and kisses my cheek. “You’re very sentimental when you’re all drugged up.”

  “That what it is?” I say. “Thought it was the near death experience—”

  “Near death, is it?” she says, the fire returning to her eyes like a match to tinder. “Just a moment ago it was nothing, now it’s near death because it suits you?”

  “Something like,” I grin.

  She grins back. “Something like,” she says softly. “And now you’ve gone and done it, Mr. McCarthy.”

  “What’s that, lass?”

  “Stolen my damn heart,” she says.

  “About goddamn time,” I mutter. I weave my fingers through her hair. She giggles and sighs, two of the sweetest bloody sounds I’ve ever heard.

  “First the ring, then the baby, then the heart,” she says. “You’ve gone about this all wrong, you know.”

  “Aye,” I tell her. “But you’re an unconventional lass, so it only suits that I won you in an unconventional way.”

  She laughs her pretty laugh and burrows deeper into my chest.

  “Am I hurting you?” she asks.

  “Nah, you’re fine.”

  “Good,” she says. “Because I’m not going anywhere either way.”

  “You’d better not,” I tell her. “You’re here to stay.”

  She closes her eyes, inhales deeply, and when she lets her breath out, a sort of peace settles over her. “Here to stay,” she whispers. “I like the sound of that.”

  Epilogue

  Seven months later

  I’ve experienced pain in my life, but nothing, nothing beats this.

  “Oh my God,” I scream, sitting up in the middle of the night. A contraction grips me so hard and fast that I lose my breath. I grip my belly, and Cormac damn near jumps straight out of the bed.

  “It’s the baby!” he says. “The baby’s coming?”

  He stumbles around in the dark, nearly tripping on his trousers while he pulls them on.

  “Aye,” I say, panting between contractions. “But relax, they don’t come in seconds, you know.”

  I didn’t tell him contractions were coming all day long, several hours apart. I’d been getting them for weeks, and Sebastian says it’s normal. Caitlin said she had pre-labor contractions for six weeks before baby Seamus came, and I didn’t see the need to tell anyone. But as the night wore on, the contractions came stronger and harder. I texted Megan, and she’s been keeping watch with me on the phone, making sure I got as much rest as I could.

  “Call your mother,” I say. I want her by my side before I want Sebastian. The doctor can come in when I’m ready to push. “Sebastian can wait.”

  He opens his mouth to protest, then shuts it again. Though he’s a bossy sort and certainly wears the pants around here, it seems he thinks differently when it comes to telling a woman in labor what to do.

  Five minutes later, Maeve and Megan are in the room.

  “Oh, it’s time, isn’t it?” Maeve asks, resting her hand on my belly when another contraction grips me.

  “Breathe, love,” Megan says. She holds my hand through the contraction. “Come here, Cormac. Let her squeeze your hand while I get some things ready for her.”

  He looks stricken but determined when he comes to my side. I breathe through the contraction, and it finally fades.

  “Two minutes apart,” Maeve says. “How far dilated were you at your last check-up?”

  “Four centimeters.”

  Maeve grins. “Ah. We’ll have a McCarthy baby by daybreak, I think.”

  Thirty minutes later, Sebastian’s joined us, but Maeve and Megan do the bulk of the work. They feed me ice chips and put a cool cloth on my forehead, and Cormac’s gotten over his momentary panic. He’s my rock. I squeeze his hand when I contract.

  “That’s my brave girl,” he says encouragingly. “So strong and brave. You can do this, lass.”

  “You’re all too good to me.” Apparently, labor’s made me weepy. But I’ve never had anything like this before, and even through the pain of labor, it brings tears to my eyes. Cormac’s love and attention, Maeve and Megan’s guidance, they’re the family every girl wishes she had. And they love me.

  It’s five hours and forty-seven minutes of intense, brutal labor, but in the end, Maeve proves prophetic. We bring sweet baby Naimh into the world as the sun rises. I’m sweaty and exhausted when Megan hands me the wee babe, wrapped in a light pink blanket. Her eyes are closed, her lips parted in sleep.

  “Welcome into the world,” I whisper.

  “Reckon being born tuckered her out,” Cormac says, his voice thick with emotion. “Tuckered you both out. If you need me to hold her while you get some rest, I will.”

  I give the little bundle a kiss and hand her to her daddy. “Aye,” I tell him. “I’m exhausted.” I am, but I could hold her all night long and not get weary of it. I just want to let him hold her.

  Watching him hold our baby to his chest, the wee thing dwarfed by his massive frame, my heart squeezes.

  “Can’t wait to dress her up and plait her hair and sing to her,” I say, resting my head back on the pillow. “But tonight, I need rest.”

  “You did so well, lass,” Cormac says, rocking the baby in his arms. “Never met a stronger woman than you, you know that?”

  I smile at him. “A man like you needs a strong woman, Mr. McCarthy.”

  He grins at me, and even though I’m still aching with the pain of delivering his child, that grin would make me lose my knickers all over again.

  The baby and I recover quickly, under the doting attention of the staff. After the second week, Cormac allows my mother to pay a visit. The visit’s brief and uneventful. She shows little interest in the baby, and more interest in the house and my clothes.

  “Very posh it is here,” she says with a sniff.

  I give her a tight smile. “Aye,” I say. I’m grateful when she leaves, having paid her respects. “Didn’t even come with a single guard.”

  He shakes his head. “Typical. Shows where their loyalties and concerns lie. But anyway, now that she’s gone and done what she had to, hopefully we won’t need to see her again for a while.”

  Maeve shakes her head. “’Tis a shame,” she says. “I’d have done my best to get along with her.”

  “Of course you would’ve,” I say. “But she’s of a sort that won’t try.”

  Maeve looks at me and smiles. “I’m glad you’re one of us now, lass. The daughters my sons have brought home to me are my pride and joy.”

  I love this woman. She makes the pain of my past fade with every day that passes.

  Maeve takes her leave. Cormac shuts the door behind her and sits in the chair by the window. A muscle ticks in his jaw.

  “I’ve got something to tell you,” he says.

  “What is it?”

  “Trouble at the school,” he says. “Nolan and I’ll have to pay a visit at the weekend.”

  I nod. Trouble comes and goes for them, and I’ve come to expect it.

  “Seems the redheaded woman’s causing more trouble.”

  “No,” I say. “Sheena? Are you kidding me? Hasn’t she learned her lesson?”

  He grins. “She’s the sort that seems to enjoy a lesson.”

  “Oh, lord,” I mutter.

  He snorts. “You wouldn’t know anything of that, now, would you?”

  “Nothing at all,” I say with a smile. I busy myself with buttoning the baby’s little romper.

  “But Sheena’s brought us news that hasn’t hit the press yet, and I thought it best I tell you myself.”

  “Has she?”

  “Aye.” He clears his throat. “Mack Martin put a hit on Blaine and Dermot. Both found dead in prison not an hour ago.”

  Even though we expected this, the news still hits me in the gut. I swallow hard. At the very same time, it brings me unfathomable relief.

  “I’m glad,” I whisper. T
he baby sleeps in my arms, and I brush a tiny strand of hair off her forehead. “I hate that these things happen, but I’ll rest better at night knowing we’re raising our daughter in a world without those two.”

  Cormac swallows hard and nods. “Absolutely.” He stands and walks to my bed, bends and kisses my forehead. “You alright, sweetheart?”

  I rock the baby, take his hand, and hold it to my cheek.

  He bends and kisses me, wrapping his arm around the baby, a little huddle of peace and togetherness in this crazy world we live in.

  “I always wanted to be part of a family that cared for me,” I tell him. “And now look at this. Look at us. We are that family.”

  His eyes crinkle around the edges as he smiles at me. “We are.”

  From the author: I hope you’ve enjoyed reading Cormac: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance.

  I am so grateful for your support! Please read on for previews of my other books you may enjoy.

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  Keenan: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance

  Previews

  Keenan

  I watch from where I sit on the craggy cliffs of Ballyhock to the waves crashing on the beach. Strong. Powerful. Deadly. A combination so familiar to me it brings me comfort. It’s two hours before my alarm goes off, but when Seamus McCarthy calls a meeting, it doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing, the men of The Clan answer.

  I suspect I know why he’s calling a meeting today, but I also know my father well enough not to presume. One of our largest shipments of illegal arms will arrive in our secured port next week, and over the next month, we’ll oversee distribution from the home that sits on the cliff behind me. Last week, we also sealed a multi-million-dollar deal that will put us in good stead until my father retires, when I assume the throne. But something isn’t right with our upcoming transactions. Then again, when dealing with the illicit trade we orchestrate, it rarely is. As a high-ranking man of The Clan, I’ve learned to pivot and react. My instincts are primed.