Chapter Six #2
“It’s strange not seeing them every day.
I hadn’t realized... ” She let the words trail off.
“Word from home is everyone’s fine. Cullen’s back in Dublin playing at one of the clubs, and Brian’s taken a fancy to Mary Margaret Shannesy.
Ma says he’s making a fool of himself, but that’s to be expected. ”
The foal, having had his fill, began to scamper around the paddock.
Erin watched him absently, thinking of home.
“Frank’s wife’s nearly ready to have the baby.
I could be an aunt already. It’s funny, most mornings when I wake up I think it’s time to go down to the henhouse. But there’s no henhouse here.”
The foal came over to the fence to sniff at her. Without thinking, Erin reached out a hand and rubbed between his ears.
“Do you wish there were?”
“I suppose I could live my life happily enough without gathering eggs again.” She glanced down and, focusing on the foal, started to draw her hand back automatically. Burke set his on top of hers and rested it on the foal’s head.
“Trusting little soul, isn’t he?”
“Aye, but his mother—”
“Is probably relieved that he’s distracted, for a few minutes. Sometimes if you’re afraid it’s best to face it in small doses.”
“I suppose.” The foal was soft as butter and nuzzled its nose between the rails to nip at her coat. “Find something else to chew on,” she said laughing. “It’s all I brought with me.” Finding nothing of interest, the foal scampered away to race around his mother. “Will he be a champion?”
“If it’s in the cards.”
Erin stepped away from the fence and, dipping her hands in her coat pockets, looked at him. “Why did you bring me out here?”
“I don’t know.” He didn’t think about the men walking around the yard and going in and out of the stables. He thought only of her as he lifted a hand to her cheek. “Why should it matter?”
Had it come so far, so fast, that it only took the touch of his fingers on her skin to send her heart racing? Inside her pockets, the palms of her hands grew damp. “I think it does, and I think I should go back in.”
“You’ve faced one fear today, why not face another?”
“I’m not afraid of you.” That was true, and she felt a surge of relief that it was. Her heart might not be steady, but it wasn’t in fear that it raced.
“Maybe not.” He slid his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck as he drew her closer. He was afraid, afraid of what she was doing to him without his planning, without his calculations.
She yearned toward him. She strained away. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to kiss me that way again.”
“All right. We’ll try another way.”
So he nibbled, teasing, tempting, tormenting. She felt the scrape of his teeth, then the moist trace of his tongue. Her hand went to his cheek and rested there as she opened herself for an emotional assault like nothing she’d ever experienced.
So he could be sweet and patient and alluring.
She hadn’t known. Her fingers crept into his hair as her lips parted and invited.
No, she wasn’t afraid, not of him. If what he brought to her was more than she’d ever imagined, then she was willing, even eager to accept it.
With a sigh she tilted her head back and let him take.
He held himself back. The more generosity she showed him, the more wary he became of accepting.
Burning inside him was a desire to sweep her away to some dim, private place where they could both take their fill.
To touch her. He pressed his lips over hers and imagined how it would be to fill his hands with her.
No barriers. While her teeth nipped gently, he imagined what it would feel like to have her flesh slide warm over his.
There was such a flavor here, warm and wild and willing. But he wanted more than her mouth. As her sigh whispered into him, he knew he needed more.
He took his hand to her hair and held her close against him. “I want you to stay with me tonight.”
“Stay?” She floated up out of the dream and was stunned by the heat and passion that had turned his eyes to smoke.
“Stay,” he repeated. “Tonight. Damn it, more than tonight. Get your things and bring them here.”
The thrill moved through her. There was something in the command, in the look in his eyes as he gave it, that called to her even as it raised her hackles.
“Move in with you?” She lifted her hands to his chest and struggled to keep her voice calm.
“You want me to live under your roof, eat your food, sleep in your bed?”
“I want you with me. You know damn well I’ve wanted that since the first time I put my hands on you.”
“Aye, maybe I did. But what I agreed to do was work for you.” She tilted her head back again, but not in surrender this time.
Yes, she’d been willing to accept the feelings he stirred in her, but not to compromise her principles for them.
“Do you think I’d be your mistress? Do you think I’d let you keep me in your fine house? ”
“No one’s talking about keeping.”
“No, you’re not a man for keeping, are you, but for taking, enjoying and moving on. I’ll tell you now, no matter how you make me feel, how you make me want, I’ll not be any man’s mistress.”
It was foolish to be hurt, ridiculous to be insulted, but she was both.
Erin jerked out of his hold and stood with her feet planted.
“If I kiss you, it’s because it pleasures me to do so, and nothing more.
I’ll not live in your house, shaming my family, until you’re tired of me.
” She tossed back her hair and crossed her arms. “I’ll be going back to work now, and you’d best keep out of my way unless you want to explain to your men why the payroll isn’t done. ”
She turned on her heel and strode away. Burke leaned back against the paddock fence. A smart man would have folded his cards and pushed away from the table. He figured he’d stay for the next hand and see where the chips fell.
Whether she was feeling festive or not, Erin was swept along in her cousin’s plans for the party. And what better day to celebrate than St. Patrick’s Day? Erin decided if there’d been a dog around, she’d surely have kicked it.
No “come live with me and be my love” from the likes of Burke Logan, she thought. She attacked a silver platter with a polishing cloth as though she could have rubbed through the metal. Oh, no, with him it was just “pack your things and be quick about it.” Hah!
As if she’d want pretty words from that swine of a man.
The truth of it was Erin McKinnon didn’t want pretty words from anyone.
What she wanted was to be left alone to pursue her new career.
In six months she’d have a place of her own and a new job altogether, she decided.
She’d find a job where she didn’t have to put up with a man who made her laugh one minute and steam the next.
And steam in more ways than one, she added as she tossed the polishing cloth aside.
Turning the platter over, she studied her own reflection.
He was toying with her, he was. Hadn’t she known that right from the beginning?
Well, what was fine for him was fine for her.
She could do some toying herself, and tonight was as good a time as any to start it.
From what Dee had told her, there would be plenty of men at the party tonight. Including a certain snake in the grass.
“Have you finished scowling at yourself?” From the other side of the table, Dee set aside another tray.
“Almost.”
“That’s good, then, because we’ve only a couple more hours.” Rising, she stacked the bowls and platters beside the crystal. Between Hannah and the caterers, the rest could be easily handled. “Is there anything you’d like to talk to me about?”
“No.”
“Nothing that might have to do with why you’ve been muttering to yourself for the past week or so?”
Erin set her teeth, then dropped her chin on her hand. “I think American men are even more rude and arrogant than Irish men.”
“I’ve always thought it was a draw.” Adelia came over to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Has Burke been troubling you?”
“To say the least.”
Something in the way Erin said it caused Dee to smile. “He has a way with him.”
“Not my way.”
“Well, then, we won’t be worrying about him anymore. We’ve a party to get ready for.”
Erin nodded as she rose. She’d known she was in trouble as soon as she’d seen the silver and crystal.
Things had only gotten worse when she’d watched the team of caterers descend to fuss over things like salmon mousse and goose-liver paté.
She’d seen the cases of champagne delivered.
Cases, by God. Then there was the black caviar she’d managed to sample while no one was looking.
And there were the flowers, tubs of them that were being arranged even as she walked with Dee down the hall.
“A madhouse, isn’t it?” Dee began when they started up the stairs. “Later, if you’ve had your fill of hearing about horses and tracks and stud fees, just send me a sign.”
“I like listening. It’s a bit like learning a new language.”
“It’s all of that.” Dee moved into her room and took a large box off the bed. “Happy St. Patrick’s Day.”
Automatically Erin put her hands behind her back. “What is it?”
“It’s a present, of course. Aren’t you going to take it?”
“There’s no need for you to give me presents.”
“No, but I didn’t think of it as a need.
” Pride was something Adelia understood too well.
Her own had been bruised repeatedly. “I’d like you to have it, Erin, from all of us as a kind of welcome to a new place.
When I came here I had only Uncle Paddy.
I think I understand now how happy it made him to share with me. Please.”
“I don’t mean to seem ungrateful.”
“Good, then you’ll pretend to like it even if you don’t.” Dee sat on the bed and gestured with both hands. “Open it. I’ve never been long on patience.”