Patrick Two Months Later
The past two months since first meeting Maeve Kelly had been a lesson in patience, humility, and shame as I spent it watching my mother get better and better. On the second trip to see Maeve, my mam insisted I stay home. She chided me for being an unbearable asshole. There was nothing I could say to that. It was true. I had to eat my words and accept Maeve was the real deal, an actual bean leighis .
On top of that, I’d tried every way I knew to get Maeve to accept my apology and go out with me. She kept saying no. She wouldn’t speak to me over the phone or in person unless it were about my mam. The flowers I sent were returned to the florist along with various other gifts I’d sent her. When they couldn’t be returned, I found out she gave them away or donated them. That included the expensive jewelry I’d sent. My brothers and my mam found it hilarious.
Nothing held my interest other than her. I knew if I didn’t find a way into her heart, body, soul, and mind, I would never have the woman I knew was my anamchara . In an effort to get my mind off her, I was out tonight with several of my friends. We were having dinner and then going to a club. I was pissed and sexually frustrated. I hadn’t touched a woman since I laid eyes on Maeve. Maybe she was a cailleach , a witch.
As I got in the car, I angrily decided that my pursuit of her had gone on long enough. I was going to forget about her and find someone I could spend a few satisfying hours with. Maeve Kelly wasn’t my one and only. I’d been mistaken.
Two hours later, I thought I might be well on my way to making that true. Dinner had been great, and we were now at one of the clubs we owned. Several likely candidates were flirting with me and my friends. They came over to join us, and we had a good time drinking. I’d just taken a drink of my whiskey when Brian leaned over and whispered to me.
“So, you’re serious about forgetting about Ms. Kelly?”
“Hell yeah, screw her. I don’t give a shit about her or her stuck-up self,” I snarled.
He grinned. “Then it won’t bother you in the least that she’s on the dance floor with some other man, will it?”
I almost gave myself whiplash, swinging around to look. It didn’t take me long to spot her. She was dancing, and a man was up there with his hands on her waist, swaying to the music. I saw red as anger washed through me. Who gave him permission to touch what was mine? I was up out of my chair and halfway to them before I knew I’d even moved. Her eyes widened when she saw me come up behind him. I grabbed his arm and swung him around to face me.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave and never let me catch you near her again. If I do, you’re dead,” I snarled.
His face turned ashen, and he trembled as he stumbled back. Maeve was glaring at me with her hands on her hips. I could tell she was about to blast me. I didn’t give her a chance. Instead, I bent down and hoisted her over my shoulder. As she yelled and beat on my back, I walked off the dance floor.
Ignoring the stares and whispers of the crowd, I took her to my private office. Enough was enough. She needed to know she was mine, and nothing would change that. And any man trying to claim her would end up dead.
“Put me down, you Neanderthal! You have no right to do this,” I heard her yell.
I smacked her ass, making her yelp in surprise. “I have every right, mo ghrá, my love. Another man was touching you. That will never be tolerated,” I growled as I locked the door to my office behind us.
This was my hidden sanctuary at the club. I could watch what was happening down on the floor or take a nap in the bedroom off it. Tonight, that bed would be holding two of us. It was time to stop playing around and prove to her that she was mine and I was hers. My stupid idea to forget about her was thrown out the window.
I’d never felt anything close to this burning need to know everything about a woman. To know what she liked, loved, and hated. What did she want in life? How could I give it to her? I might not believe in a lot of things, but I was finding that the “knowing” my daid , dad had told me about all my life was real. I sat her on her feet by the bed. She looked around and sucked in a breath.
“Let me out of here, or I swear, I’ll scream this place down. You don’t own me, Patrick O’Sheeran. You may be a big badass here, but I won’t be used or shamed by you or any man,” she told me angrily.
I cupped her face in my hand. Her eyes met mine. I think she was startled that I was gentle. “The last thing I want to do is use or shame you, Maeve. I’ve been trying to show and tell you for two months that I want you. Not for a night, a week, or even a few months, but I want you forever. I’ve found what my parents swore existed, mo ghrá amháin fíor, my one true love . What can I do to get you to forgive me? I’m sorry for my assumptions when we met. I let past experiences with so-called healers affect my judgment.”
Her mouth fell open, and her eyes widened as she stared at me. I could tell she didn’t know what to say. I waited. The next move was hers. As much as it would kill me if she told me she had no interest in me, I’d have to walk away and face a future that would only be a half-life at best.