Chapter 14 Verity
Verity
The Kelly family's ability to snuff out any negative press never ceased to amaze me. Absolutely nothing about the attack on the estate had appeared in the press and only a few vague mentions popped up online.
The news blackout probably had something to do with the highly paid PR woman who appeared the following day. I noted her pristine makeup, smooth chignon, and Dior pantsuit, and decided I hated her.
Mostly because she'd clearly fucked Declan at some point. Perhaps was still fucking him, from the way she touched him inappropriately before they disappeared into his office to strategize (or fuck).
Now that a few days had passed since the bloodbath, things had mostly returned to normal. Saoirse had gone back to college and Aoife left the day after. Being stuck here on my own with nobody to talk to sucked.
I'd barely seen the twins. They and Declan were too busy cleaning up the mess caused by the O'Rourkes. Not that anyone told me anything. What little information I had came from listening to the guards' uncensored conversations.
My sister had heard about the incident and been on at me to come back to the states, again, but while I wasn't exactly happy here, I knew I'd be no happier at her house. She'd accepted my decision for now, but knowing her, she'd continue hassling me until I gave in and agreed to her plan.
Thea always thought she knew what was best for me.
She'd taken on the role of my protector from the minute I came into the world, and nothing much had changed in the last 20 years.
Although it was late, I’d wandered downstairs in search of a book to read. The stack of novels Saoirse lent me had proved interesting, but I'd read them all, which meant a trip to the library.
The 'library' was a grand name for a room on the ground floor where Declan kept his mother's prized collection of First Editions and other expensive books.
Maud Kelly had been a voracious reader. She loved books and spent much of her life collecting them.
Some were worth a fortune, but the library also held an extensive collection of mass-market paperbacks she'd enjoyed and kept for us girls to read.
I padded into the room, the stone floor cool under my bare feet, switching on two lamps as I went.
The musty scent of old books tickled my nose.
Someone had stacked the fireplace with kindling and logs, but since it was a warm night, I didn't bother lighting a fire.
I planned to snag a few novels and then head back to bed.
Brushing my fingers lightly over the spines of some well-read paperbacks on a shelf by the window, I half-smiled.
Jilly Cooper…Shirley Conran…Judith Krantz.
Maud loved her 80s bonkbusters. The thought of her tucked into a window seat with a mug of whiskey-infused cocoa, reading salacious stories, made me smile.
It had been years since I read any Jilly Cooper books, so I picked up Rivals and moved over to the window seat to read the blurb. No sooner had I sat down than Ronan stumbled in, stinking of booze and cigarettes.
Drunk Ronan looked younger, less intimidating. He reminded me of a gregarious spaniel, all sunshine and sparkles. It was a far cry from the usual menacing aura he exuded.
"Pixie!" he exclaimed with a wink. "I wondered why the light was on in here. Thought Dec was binging on romance novels again."
A burst of surprised laughter escaped me at the idea of Declan Kelly reading a trashy paperback novel.
"Does he read?"
"Only tax returns and contracts." Ronan smirked. "Boring fuck." He sidled closer, and I caught a whiff of citrus and masculine musk. His shirt had torn at the collar. I peered closely at a pink smudge…was that…lipstick?
When he leaned in, my eyes narrowed. Definitely not blood. I burned to ask him about it, but kept my mouth shut. It was none of my business what he got up to in his spare time.
"I should go," I said, placing the book I'd picked against my chest as a barrier.
"You should," he agreed before reaching out and twirling a strand of my hair between his fingers.
Neither of us moved, but my eyes kept returning to that telltale pink stain on his collar.
My first boyfriend, Evan, had cheated on me. I caught him with his dick in some other girl's mouth, less than two weeks after I gave him my virginity. Nobody knew about that betrayal apart from Saoirse. I'd been too ashamed to admit to choosing a low-life scumbag as my first.
"You have lipstick on your collar," I observed eventually, when the tension grew between us. Ronan looked startled for a moment.
"I do?" He pulled the offending cotton away from his neck and examined it. Then his expression cleared. "Oh, yeah. Cat, my ex, tried to start something when our paths crossed."
I remembered Catriona, the woman Conal and Ronan shared a few years back. She used to come round a lot before I left shortly after Pukegate.
"Were you not interested?" I asked, trying to sound like I didn't care. "I thought you guys liked her."
He shrugged. "She was fun for a while." His mouth quirked up in a knowing smile. "Jealous, Pixie?"
I pulled my smutty book closer against my chest. Ronan's proximity made it harder to think. Dammit. I should have left the moment he stepped in here. Being alone with a charming Irishman was fraught with danger. And being alone with Ronan Kelly was enough to make my ovaries sing an aria.
"No, of course not," I bluffed, doing my best to edge away. Only he had me pinned against the window, so I had nowhere left to go.
"Not sure I believe you, Pixie girl," he said in a low, knowing voice. Whiskey and smoke rolled over me, igniting my senses.
"You're drunk." Flashing red warning lights sparked into life. If Ronan tried it on with me, I wasn't sure I would have the willpower to resist.
"Tipsy, not drunk. There's a difference."
"We shouldn't…"
"Shouldn't what, Pixie girl?"
He pressed closer. The sharp edge of the windowsill cut into my back, but I was more concerned about the way his proximity sent my heart rate shooting into the stratosphere.
Anton had never made me feel this way. With him, I'd never felt much of anything, if I was being honest. Numb had long been a natural state for me. Comfortable. Emotions scared me.
"I can't," I protested. In my head, at least. But Ronan wasn't listening. He cupped my jaw, his lips hovering over mine. This was insane. Surely he knew I was off-limits?
"Shhh, you're over-thinking this."
I wanted to push him away, tell him no. But I had no willpower. For years, I'd dreamed of this moment. Imagined what it would be like to kiss Ronan… Conal…but they were just stupid crushes. I never thought he'd want me. They'd want me.
"Say no and I'll leave right now."
"I…I…want…this."
The minute the words were out, his mouth claimed mine.
I'd kissed very few guys. Not wanted to, mostly. But kissing Ronan…or rather, him kissing me, because I was not in control here, caused fireworks to explode in my belly. No man had ever kissed me like this before.
Ronan pulled me across his lap, one arm around my waist.
Our kiss deepened until nothing mattered but his hard body pressed against my soft curves. A large hand gripped my hip, the other tangled in my hair.
The book I held fell to the floor with a clatter. Outside, the wind howled around the old house, rattling the windows like an angry ghost trying to force entry.
His hard length pressed into my ass. Was it me or just the alcohol? The voice in my head said he was horny, and I was the only available female. Feeling second best was natural to me. It didn't seem a stretch to think perhaps Ronan wasn't truly interested in me; more likely, he wanted to get laid.
The idea of being a stand-in for some hot chick he'd left behind in the bar provided a cold dose of reality. I pushed him back, still breathless, but sure this was a terrible idea. Even if I wanted him - and boy, I wanted him - letting him use me wasn't right. I had more self-respect than that.
Didn't I?
"What's wrong, Pixie?" he asked, his gray eyes almost black.
"This is a bad idea," I attempted to force out, but he held me tight, refusing to let me go.
"No, it's not."
"You could have anyone," I reminded him.
"I don't want anyone, Pixie. Just you and your amazing tits." He sounded genuine, but his reputation as a charming Lothario meant I didn't believe him.
"My name's Verity, not Pixie, and my tits..." I shut up, deciding to skip past that comment. His use of the pixie nickname irritated me. I wasn't small and petite.
"Pixie suits you better."
"Because I'm short?"
He snorted before brushing a loose strand of hair away from my hot cheeks.
"Because you're cute and I want to take care of you.
" The softness of the words surprised me.
Unlike me, the Ronan Kelly I knew wasn't soft.
Far from it, in fact. Ronan Kelly's unlimited capacity for violence justifiably scared most people meeting him for the first time.
"I don't need anyone to look after me."
"Yes, you do." He was right. Dad would look for me, and if he found me, who knew what would happen? "Now shut up and let me kiss you."
Before I could protest some more, his mouth found mine, exploring, teasing me. I could taste the whiskey he'd drunk, and the cigarettes he'd smoked. I hated smoking, but nothing about Ronan turned me off. Far from it.
I was more turned on now than I'd ever been in my life. Wet and wanting.
When his hand found my breast, I didn't stop him from touching me like I'd dreamed about a million times. The only thing that could make this moment better was if Conal was here. I wanted to be the lucky woman they shared.
Ronan groaned into my mouth when I shifted on his lap.
"Fuck, Pixie, you make me so fucking hard." His thumb rubbed across my pebbled nipple through my top, making me squirm all the more.
Heat flooded my cheeks, and I was thankful for the low light in here.
"What the fuck?" a familiar voice exclaimed.