21. Olivia
21
OLIVIA
“ I still can’t believe you asked Declan to come here,” Molly said, shaking her head over a pint of Heineken. “Way to poke the dragon.”
She, Oisin, and I were clumped near a hedge in the O’Rourke mansion’s famous garden—famous, that is, to fans of The Deer and the Warrior . Unlike Declan’s wild, overgrown garden, this place was manicured to within an inch of its life. Hedges were orderly, trees were tidy, and flowers were organized by color.
The only thing unruly was the bonfire, which various village men were busy coaxing higher and higher. The fire was blasting so much heat, I worried it would melt the ice in my drink.
“It wasn’t that big a deal,” I protested, mostly because I didn’t want it to be a big deal. I knew I should have stayed calm and talked it out with him. But as soon as he’d tried to forbid me from going, I’d seen red.
Oisin cleared his throat. “The thing is, Mark O’Rourke is kind of the worst. Everyone knows it, but if you stay in Ballybeith, you have to pretend he isn’t, because sooner or later you’ll need something from him. A house to rent, a loan, a job. The only person who always fought back was Mr. Byrne.” He sipped his beer. “And when he died, Declan took up where his dad left off.”
“So…it’s not just Declan being upset about his dad’s accident?” God knew that was a big enough reason for Declan to be upset.
“The accident is likely most of it. But it’s also about Mark O’Rourke being a proper bastard.”
“If he’s so bad, why do you come to his party?” I asked, feeling a little indignant.
“Because it’s good craic,” Molly said. “And it’s not really Mark’s party. It’s ours.” She said the last part with quiet pride, nodding to all the people around us.
People were laughing, telling stories, and eating and drinking. Two young women stood farther away from the noise, rocking their sleeping babies as they chatted. The musicians returned from their break—a fiddle player, a flautist, an accordion player, and a man with a flat hand drum. They settled back into their seats and started playing. Once the music started, people stomped their feet and sang along. An older woman stood up and start stomping and shuffling her feet with rapid fire movements I couldn’t quite follow.
It was like I’d said to Declan—like Molly had said just now. Mark O’Rourke might have been hosting the party, but it didn’t belong to him. It belonged to all of Ballybeith.
Still, I was beginning to understand why Declan had lashed out so viciously and the line I was asking him to cross.
I spotted Declan’s friend Thomas across the fire and waved. He was with his wife, Bridget, who I’d met when she’d stopped by to pick up her daughter after Catie’s playdate.
Thomas waved back enthusiastically and led Bridget around the fire toward us. “Olivia! I didn’t realize you were coming.”
“Molly invited me,” I said.
“Cheers to that,” he said, and we all clinked glasses.
“Want to hear something funny?” Molly asked. “Olivia asked Declan to come.”
Thomas sprayed a mouthful of beer directly into Oisin’s face.
“You what ?” Thomas said. The way he worded it, it was like I’d asked Declan to sell his companies and torch all of his money.
Bridget handed Oisin a paper napkin.
“I didn’t know ,” I said, beginning to feel worried. I thought this thing between me and Declan was just a normal fight. But what if my coming here had broken his trust in some fundamental way that was never going to heal?
The conversation moved on, thankfully. Then the musicians shifted into a catchy song everyone but I knew, and the couples abandoned me to dance around the bonfire.
I wrapped my arms around myself. Without my friends to distract me, I noticed the evening air had turned chilly. As I watched all the couples dance in the golden, flickering light of the bonfire, I felt a wistful ache. I wanted someone to dance with. I wanted to belong.
You have someone to dance with , I reminded myself. You just stormed off to the one place he can’t follow you.
This was ridiculous, I realized. Yes, the festival was fun. Yes, I’d wanted to come. But I wanted to spend the rest of my night with Declan more.
Hopefully, I hadn’t ruined things too badly between us.
I caught Molly’s attention and signaled that I was heading out, then started weaving my way toward the garden’s exit.
I set my empty glass on a table, then bumped into a man, who automatically reached out to steady me. It took a moment for me to recognize Seamus O’Rourke.
“Olivia!” he said cheerfully. “You came! Fantastic!” The drink in his hand had turned his cheeks pink and his natural charm into outright exuberance.
I smiled and tried to step around him.
He didn’t get the cue. “Is Catie with you?” he asked, looking around hopefully.
“No,” I said.
“Ah. Because of Declan,” he said, sounding a bit disappointed. Then he perked up. “Do you know if Sinead’s coming back to visit this summer?”
I shrugged noncommittally, fairly sure Sinead wouldn’t want me spreading her business around. “Do you know Sinead well?” I asked.
He looked away. “I used to,” he said quietly. He smiled ruefully. “Ran into her, the last time she was in town. She said…well.” He laughed wryly. “Some women have a way of making you rethink your life choices, don’t they?”
“Sure,” I said, not quite following.
“Oh!” Seamus said, spotting a woman about twenty feet away who looked vaguely like him. “Excuse me. I need to go talk to my sister. She lives in London these days to avoid our dad, so I hardly ever get to see her.” He squeezed my shoulder affectionately and rejoined the stream of the crowd.
I watched Seamus greet his sister with a massive hug, lifting her off the ground. I smiled. I knew Declan had his problems with Seamus—well, specifically with Seamus’s dad, but it seemed to have soured him on the whole family—but a man who loved his family that much couldn’t be all bad.
I was about to resume my path to the garden exit when I heard a gasp, and then murmurs. Everyone was craning their necks and standing on their toes to see something.
“What is it?” I asked the old woman next to me.
“A damn miracle,” she said, eyes wide as she looked into the distance. “It’s James and Marie’s boy.”
No , I thought, it can’t be.
But it was.
The man in question stepped into view, and my heart just shimmered . It was Declan, tall, proud, and handsome as ever. His dark hair and blue eyes made him look especially striking, like a fairy king invading the human court.
When his eyes locked on mine, I felt more than seen. I felt claimed.
People parted for Declan as he strode to me.
“Declan, I…what are you doing here?” Then a moment of fear stole through me. He wouldn’t have come here without a good reason. “Is Catie all right?”
“She’s fine. She’s with my mum.” He came to a halt in front of me. For a moment, I thought he would reach for me, but he stopped at the last second and put his hands in his pockets instead. He looked over his shoulder to see everyone staring at him. Hastily, they looked away.
He rolled his eyes and turned back to me. “Look, I don’t particularly want to be here. But you said it would make you happy. So…”
My heart was beating too fast, my body understanding things my mind wasn’t ready to.
I wet my lips. “I…I don’t think I realized the extent of what I was asking for, Declan. I’m sorry. When I asked you to come, I really just wanted to spend time with you.”
He smiled, a certain light in his eyes that was just for me. “That’s convenient. Because I want to spend time with you.”
“Oh.” I was blushing. I couldn’t quite believe he was here. The proudest man I knew was temporarily laying down that pride to show up for me. Even though we’d fought. Even though he didn’t agree with me.
No one had ever done that for me before.
He glanced around. “Weren’t you supposed to be here with Molly?”
“She’s dancing,” I said. “So is Thomas.”
He held out his hand. “Shall we join them?”
“Oh, I don’t…some of these people really know what they’re doing.”
He laughed. “I won’t make you step dance, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Come on, a ghrá . Dance with me.”
I slipped my hand into Declan’s and let him pull me toward the bonfire. As we approached, the musicians finished their frenzied reel and slipped into something slower and softer. A middle-aged woman with a wineglass in her hand sat down next to the musicians and started singing something sad and lilting in Gaelic.
Declan pulled me into his arms. I looped my hands behind his neck, and we swayed together in the flickering firelight.
“What’s this song about?” I asked. “It sounds so sad.”
“It’s an old trad tune about Fionn and Sadhbh. They sing it every year.”
I leaned against him, liking the possessive, protective feel of his hands on my waist. “It sounds so much sadder than the movie feels.”
“Most of the song is about the end of the tale,” Declan explained. “The part where the dark wizard shows up when Fionn is away at war. He turns Sadhbh back into a deer, and Fionn never sees her again, no matter how hard he searches.”
“That was my least favorite part of the movie,” I said. “She finally found a home, and then it was ripped away from her.”
“It’s not all bad,” Declan said, smiling down at me. “He finds a fawn in the woods and recognizes it as their child. And when the child comes home, the spell is broken again, and they live happily together.”
“But what about Sadhbh?” I pointed out. “We don’t even find out what happens to her. We just know she loses her home, and her man, and finally her child.”
“Shhh, love.” Declan cupped my cheek. “It’s just a story.”
I didn’t realize I was upset until I felt his calming touch against my skin.
I closed my eyes briefly. “I know. I’m being silly. I just wish she had a happier ending.”
“Then let’s give her one.” He spun me out, then brought me back close into his arms. “She escapes the wizard and builds her own home. When she steps over the threshold, she becomes a human again. And this time, the wizard can’t touch her ever again because she carries her home in her heart.”
“What about love? Does Fionn find her again?” I asked.
“Does she want him to?” Declan asked. His eyes were piercing in the twilight. I felt like we were talking about more than a made-up story.
Before I could answer, the song ended, and the music shifted again, this time something fast and jaunty. There was whooping and stomping from the other dancers, and before I knew it, Declan and I were pulled into a circle of dancers clasping hands and spinning faster and faster around the fire. The music soared, and the sky spun, and when everyone threw their hands in the air and let go of each other, I found myself falling back, dizzy.
Declan caught me easily with one arm behind my back and pulled me tight to his chest, laughing down at me.
I leaned against his chest to brace myself and felt his heart pounding under my fingertips.
“What’s that line from the movie? ‘Sir, you have stolen my breath.’”
Declan dropped his voice into a comical brogue. “‘Fair play, for you have stolen my heart.’”
“‘Then steal a kiss, my lord, for it is yours,’” I said cheekily, feeling pretty proud of myself for remembering the line. The words didn’t actually make sense when you thought about it—if it was his already, then it wasn’t stealing—but the phrasing certainly rolled off the tongue.
Declan looked at me, eyes dancing. And then without warning, he dipped me backward in a swoony kiss, just like in the movie.
At first I clutched at his shoulders, laughing against his mouth as people around us whooped and cheered. But as his lips lingered against mine, and I realized he wasn’t going to drop me, I felt myself relaxing into his arms. Relaxing into him. Trusting him.
The music changed again, to something dark and driving and romantic, with a drumbeat that matched my racing pulse. Declan straightened and pulled me out of the dip, so that we were both dancing together again. But now that we’d found our way back to each other, we couldn’t seem to keep our lips apart for long. I felt as hot and hungry as the fire blazing at my back.
Declan brought his mouth to my ear. “Come home with me, Olivia,” he said, his voice husky. “‘Be kind to your man.’”
I shivered, remembering what came after that particular movie line…and understanding exactly what Declan was asking me.
“Yes,” I breathed. “God yes.”
M y heart raced as we drove home. I couldn’t quite believe this was finally happening. The wild scent of summer air swirled around us.
I cleared my throat. “Do we have to pick Catie up from your mom’s? Maybe we should do that now, before we… Although it’s probably not great to do that with Catie in the house. Not that I’m loud. At least I don’t think I’m loud. But you might be loud. I nannied for this couple that was not quiet to put it politely, and then their kid asked what those sounds were, and let me tell you, that is not a conversation I ever want to have again?—”
Declan took my hand and wordlessly brought it to his lips.
Something lovely fluttered in the base of my stomach.
“I’ve taken care of it, a ghrá . We have the house to ourselves for the night.”
That may have been the single sexiest thing a man had ever said.
In no time at all we were pulling up in front of the house. I felt like everything inside me was sparkling and dancing with delicious anticipation. Declan helped me out of the car, like we were in some kind of old-fashioned fairy tale. Then he led me inside the mansion without releasing my hand.
As soon as we stepped inside, we were surrounded by darkness. Apparently, Declan hadn’t bothered to a leave a light on when he left. The only illumination came from the stars outside.
“You’re trembling,” he said, squeezing my hand. His touch was reassuring, but it only fanned the flames of what I was feeling. “Is it the dark, or…?”
Have you changed your mind?
He didn’t need to finish the sentence.
“No. I mean, yes. Yes, I want this. And it’s not the dark, it’s just…” I can’t remember the last time I wanted something as much as I want you.
But I couldn’t say that.
Not just with words, anyway.
“It’s just I’m waiting for you to kiss me,” I said, half laughing at the giddy awkwardness of it all.
Declan tugged me deeper into the house and toward the stairs. “If I kiss you now, I won’t stop.” The lust in his eyes enough to make my heart ache. “And I’d rather do this on a bed, wouldn’t you?”
I shivered at the undisguised want in his voice.
My heart pounded as Declan led us up to his room, our footsteps the only sound in this giant, lavish house. Once we were in his room, Declan shut the door and flipped the light switch. I blinked up at the sudden wash of light.
“Do you…have a chandelier above your bed?”
“You can file a complaint with my decorator,” Declan said. And then his lips were on mine, and he was kissing me, and all I could think was…
Finally .
I kissed him back with everything I had, pressing my body tight against his. He felt so damn good under my hands. Strong and masculine and perfect. I couldn’t stop smiling, and for some reason, neither could he. Declan and I fell into his bed, laughing and gasping as we stripped each other bare.
During our interrupted picnic, he’d been the one firmly in control. But now his control was fraying under the weight of his desire. His hands were a little too rough as he helped me out of my clothes. His breath went ragged when he finally saw me in nothing but my panties and bra.
I could feel his eyes on me, the heat of his gaze tracing a path over my half-naked skin. He sucked in a deep breath, almost as if to control his wildest urges, and unclipped my bra, the cups slipping aside to reveal my breasts. The cold air lapped at my hard nipples, but that barely registered—right then, I was boiling from the inside out.
I’d never felt sexier.
“God, Olivia,” he said, his eyes tracing my naked curves. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He traced a hand between my breasts, like I was something precious he was scared to ruin with his touch.
“Not too many freckles?” I teased.
“I love your freckles.” Declan crawled over me, caging me in with his heat and strength. “I have dreams about your freckles. They’re stars, and you’re my constellation.”
My heart snagged. How could he just say something like that?
Declan kissed his way down my body, unaware he’d casually dropped the most romantic sentence of my life. He found the tip of my breasts and sucked until I was shaking and gasping beneath him. He tortured me with his tongue, drew moans out of me with his fingers. And when I didn’t think I could take any more, he moved to my other breast. And then to a sensitive spot on my rib. All the while he murmured profane compliments I couldn’t quite hear against my skin. I was so lost in his words and his touch, it took me a beat to come back to earth enough to realize what he was about to do.
My heart almost stopped.
“Oh, you don’t have to…” I said, but he was already peeling my panties off and positioning his face between my thighs.
He inhaled appreciatively and kissed my hip.
Was it possible to die of lusty anticipation? Because I thought that might be about to happen to me.
“What’s that line that turns you on?” Declan murmured, his breath caressing my inner thighs. “‘Be kind to your man, and give me a taste of what I’d die for?’”
“That’s not… He wasn’t talking about this ,” I said, flustered and turned on all at the same time.
Declan grinned up at me, wickedly playful. “How do you know?”
And then Declan lowered his mouth to me, and I lost my train of thought entirely. He was touching me, tasting me, and letting out ragged moans like I was the one doing him the favor.
Was I breathing? It was possible I might have stopped breathing. Air didn’t feel necessary when his mouth was doing that . When he eased two fingers inside me and did something magical with his tongue, I came undone.
Electricity shot up my spine, and thunderbolts of ecstasy exploded inside my head. For a second, I couldn’t see or hear, pleasure washing over me as I clutched the headboard with one hand, and Declan’s hair with the other.
He looked up at me, grinning.
I gasped, thighs quivering. “That was… I mean…”
“You’re welcome,” he said, cocky as all hell.
Normally, I would have taken him down a peg for a comment like that, but I felt too damn good. He deserved to be arrogant about that. He deserved a medal for that, and possibly a tickertape parade.
Declan moved away, and cool air washed over me.
“Where are you going?” I asked, twisting toward him. I wasn’t ready to let him go, even for an instant. In all honesty, I didn’t know if my body could handle more, but that didn’t mattered. I wanted as much as I could get, the consequences be damned.
“Condom,” he said. He snagged a packet from his bedside dresser and dropped it on the pillow beside me. Then he added another two for good measure.
I laughed. “Isn’t that a little optimistic?”
“I feel very optimistic right now,” he said, wrapping a hand around my waist and pulling me toward him.
I giggled, feeling gloriously feminine. “Do billionaires have fancy designer condoms, or do you use normal ones like everyone else?”
He smothered a laugh and kissed my neck. “Absolutely. Designer condoms. Made of gold dust and orchid petals.”
I giggled, but then his mouth found mine, and I wasn’t laughing anymore. There was something too unguarded, too reckless, about the way he was kissing me. We’d agreed this would be a fun, casual thing. But in this moment, I could have sworn I mattered to him. That this mattered to him.
That it mattered to me.
I shoved the dangerous thought aside and gave myself over to the sensation of Declan’s body against mine. His lean muscle. His hungry mouth. His clever, clever fingers.
I learned things about him too.
When I skated my hand over his chest and down his stomach, his breath hitched. When I placed a gentle kiss above his heart, he pinned my wrists to the bed and kissed me with savage passion. And when I moaned his name while my fingernails scraped his back, he damn near lost his mind.
He tangled his fingers on my hair, locked his eyes on mine, and used his free hand to guide himself home. I held my breath as I felt his hard length against me.
Then Declan slid into me with a single thrust.
I threw my head back and moaned. My hands shot to his back, and I dug my fingernails into his muscles hard enough to draw blood, every cell of my body desperate for him.
As he rocked inside me, our eyes met, and for a second the world seemed to still. It was just me, and him, and the way the chandelier light backlit him, so that he looked like some kind of fallen angel.
And then I hauled in a jagged breath, and the world started moving again. I watched with awe and hunger as Declan moved over me, in me, with me, finally losing every last shred of his control.
It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I couldn’t get enough of him like this, open and unguarded.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded. Or maybe begged. His voice coiled itself around my thoughts, and he moved my hand between us. “I want to watch you come while I’m inside you.”
I nodded, something in me responding to his wildness. The pleasure was already so overwhelming, but I showed him how I liked to be touched when I was at my most sensitive. Together we found a rhythm, until it became too much, and I moved my hand so that I could cling to him, gasping as the pleasure rose and rose until all I could do was feel , as Declan cried out and gave a savage thrust.
When his greedy hands wrung a final orgasm out of me, I followed him over the edge with a secret beating in my heart—If I spent even one more night in his bed, I wasn’t sure I could stop myself from falling for Declan Byrne.