HardWind (17 page)

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Chapter Nine

The test results were back and Dáire proved to be an ideal match for his daughter.

Jillian’s doctor went over the procedures that would take place during the transplant,

explaining to them that their child had been receiving chemo treatments the last three

days.

“She’s experienced the usual nausea, but that was to be expected,” the physician

reported.

Dáire sat quietly, his bouncing leg the only sign he was jittery.

“Any questions?” Dr. Saul asked, looking from Dáire to Star and back again.

Clearing his throat, Dáire replied, “I think you’ve covered everything. Thanks.”

“I’ll have my assistant get a room for you for tomorrow morning.” He stood and

held out his hand. “Get a good night’s sleep, Mr. Cronin, and be back here about seven.

Please don’t eat or drink anything after midnight.”

“He’s had a migraine for a couple of days now,” Star told the doctor.

“Bad?” Dr. Saul inquired.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Dáire answered.

“It’s most likely just tension-related,” the physician asserted. “What do you

normally take when one lasts this long?”

“One hundred each Demerol and Vistaril,” Dáire replied.

“I’ll have that ready in case you’re still having pain after the procedure tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Dr. Saul,” Star answered for Dáire.

Walking back to the parking garage where they would meet with Moss after calling

him on the cell phone Miss Idelle had lent them, Dáire held Star’s hand. They didn’t

speak. Each seemed lost in thought. Now and again, Dáire would reach up to rub at his

temple.

“When we get back to the B&B,” Star said, “I think you should lie down and try to

sleep it off, baby.”

“I’ve got the damned nausea today,” he told her. “Wish I hadn’t let Bossie talk me

into eating that French toast.”

“I need to run a few errands anyway, so you can just crawl into bed and snooze,”

Star told him. She’d spent the morning at Jillian’s bedside while Dáire was undergoing

pre-donation testing.

“Take one of Idelle’s cars and keep a watch out for anyone who looks like they

might be following you,” he advised. “If you pick up a tail, go to the University Mall

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and park on the east side. Call Moss. He’ll come pick you up on the west side of the

mall by the theaters.”

Star noticed that her lover was looking around them, making note of anyone close

by. Obviously he was searching for anyone sitting in a parked car, watching them.

“You don’t think they’ll try to stop the donation, do you?” she asked, tucking her

bottom lip between her teeth.

“Doubtful,” he replied, but he was still scanning the people nearby.

“Why do you think she was calling you?”

“Just to rub it in.”

“She’ll be angry you ditched the cell phone.”

He smiled grimly. “Yes, she will.”

A dark green sedan was coming toward them and Star recognized Moss behind the

wheel. He had brought them to the hospital that morning in a black SUV. Pulling up

beside them, Moss waited until they were inside before turning around to look at Dáire.

“I had a tail out of here this morning,” the butler said. “I didn’t go back to the house.

This car is one of many stashed across the city. I lost the tail, but chances are good

someone is watching the hospital.”

“Take us to Cordova,” Dáire said. “Can you send someone to pick us up from

there?”

“Sure thing,” Moss agreed, and turned around. He drove out of the parking garage,

surreptitiously inspecting his rearview and side mirrors as he drove.

“Black sedan, back two cars,” Dáire told Moss.

“Yes, sir, I see him.” He picked up a cell phone that lay in the front passenger seat

and punched in a number. “May? Computer store entrance.”

Moss drove them to the Cordova Mall. He stopped at the Parisian store entrance.

“You two need to separate as soon as you’re inside. Walk quickly. Mr. Dáire, you go to

Computer Terminal. You’ll be picked up by an oriental woman in an ice blue minivan

with a Zorro emblem on the radio antenna. She knows what you look like and what

you’re wearing. Miss Star, you go to Dillard’s. The one at the far end, not the men’s

store. May will pick you up there. Get in the front with her. Mr. Dáire, you get in the

back.”

Hurrying into the mall, the two lovers promptly parted, going down separate aisles.

They made their way quickly through the mall, their destinations at opposite ends of

the large facility. Taking a position at the bank of doors leading to the parking lots

beyond their respective stores, it didn’t take long for Dáire to be picked up by a

diminutive Vietnamese lady. Once inside her minivan, he lay down in the backseat

while she drove to the other end of the mall to pick up Star.

Climbing into the front seat with the pretty oriental woman, Star was breathing

hard. “Take a deep breath and relax,” she heard Dáire say.

“I’m not used to all this spy drama,” Star said.

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“Let’s go take a leisurely drive to Mobile,” May said with a thick accent. “Mr. D.,

you try to sleep.”

Star glanced at the woman, recognizing Miss Idelle’s hand in the order. She smiled,

settling back as May whipped through traffic like a pro. She didn’t see how anyone

could pursue the minivan but asked if May noticed anyone following them.

“Not that I can see,” May replied. “One of our men will be waiting over in Mobile

to take you back to Cantonment.”

“Do you do this a lot?” Star asked.

May shrugged. “I’ve outrun many a private investigator, ma’am. I like pitting my

brains against their feeble ones.” She glanced over at Star and grinned.

The drive over to Mobile did not garner them any observable trackers. So Dáire

could hopefully sleep, the two women did not talk during the trip. It wasn’t until they

had crossed the Mobile Bay that Star became nervous. Going through the Wallace

Tunnel under the Mobile River, she fidgeted. She was extremely claustrophobic and the

ride through the tunnel brought sweat to her upper lip and underarms.

“I don’t like tunnels either,” May said quietly. “I’d never have made a good VC

back in the old country.”

After an hour of driving aimlessly in Mobile, May took them to Our Savior Catholic

Church on Cody Road where a short, squat Hispanic male was waiting for them. He

opened Star’s door and greeted her with a gold-toothed smile.

Dáire had managed to sleep and was yawning when he got out of the cramped

backseat of the minivan. He glanced around them, relieved to see they had no tail and

walked over to a beautifully restored blue and white 1956 Chevrolet Bel Air and got in

the back with Star. “Cherry,” he complimented the Hispanic man.

“She’s my baby,” the man said with pride.

The windows of the hardtop were darkly tinted—the only modern concession on

the vehicle—so no one could see in the back or side windows. It would be impossible

for anyone to know there were riders in the backseat.

“Lie down and put your head in my lap,” Star told Dáire.

“You want me to eat you now?” he countered in a low voice, and grinned at the

immediate blush that stained his lady’s high cheeks.

Raoul, the driver, pretended he hadn’t heart the off-color words as he got behind

the wheel. He adjusted the rearview mirror—upon which hung pale blue fuzzy dice—

then left the church, waving at May as he went.

“If you’re hungry, I can stop for you to get something,” he told his passengers.

Star arched a brow at Dáire as he lay down on his back, his knees drawn up, and

pulled her right hand to his chest where he held it with both of his. He shook his head.

“We’ll wait until we get back home,” Star told Raoul.

With her left hand smoothing his hair, Dáire closed his eyes and within a few

minutes fell asleep. When he woke, they were in front of Miss Idelle’s establishment.

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“No one followed us, Mr. D.,” Raoul stated.

“Thanks, Raoul,” Dáire said as he got out of the car. He was stiff but his headache

had eased off somewhat. His stomach was growling and so was Star’s.

Bossie had a generous lunch ready for them with crisp fried chicken, corn on the

cob, fresh green beans cooked with ham, sliced tomatoes with cucumbers and Vidalia

onions, and piping hot, buttered cornbread. Glasses of sweetened tea with wedges of

lemon sat beside the plates. Generous slices of homemade coconut cream pie were

brought in for dessert.

“If I eat like this at every meal, I’ll be a wide-load mama before you know it,” Star

said, digging into the succulent fried chicken.

“You could do with putting some meat on them bones, missy,” Bossie said with a

sniff.

Dáire sat back in his chair, rubbing his belly. The headache was still there but he

was doing his best to ignore it. He really didn’t want to sleep anymore and asked Star if

she’d like to watch a movie.

Star frowned. “Do you think we should leave here?” she asked.

“Miss Idelle has a home theater at the back of the house,” he said. “If you don’t

want some very explicit Swedish XXX-rated porn—which I highly recommend—I’m

sure she has all the latest choices.”

“Swedish porn, huh?” she asked. “Any male bondage in there, you think?”

Dáire rolled his eyes. “Like male on male?”

“Like a handsome Irish guy being tied up and screwed by a lusty entrepreneur-type

woman?” she countered.

“Is that your fantasy?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

Dáire got up lazily from his chair, stretched then held his hand out to Star. “If I

know Idelle, she’s got some velvet ropes lying around somewhere.” He pulled his lady

to him. “You’d better make it worth my while, wench.”

Star smiled. “Honey, I’m gonna turn you inside out.”

* * * * *

The ropes were tight around his wrists and ankles as Dáire lay there naked in the

big mahogany bed, his spread-eagled limbs bound to the tall four-posters. He didn’t

want to let on to Star that he found the bondage less than stimulating. It reminded him

far too much of real-life situations in which he’d unfortunately found himself to be

enjoyable, but if this was what she wanted, he was game.

“Mine,” Star said as she climbed atop him, straddling his hips, her bare bottom

settling possessively over his thighs.

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“You’ll pay for this, baby,” he told her a moment before she thrust a silken gag

between his teeth and tied it behind his neck, effectively silencing him.

Dáire froze—memories crowding in to push aside any pleasure he might get from

the playacting. His woman’s hands were on his chest, her fingers tweaking his paps, but

he was only vaguely aware it was Star sitting astride him. He strained against the silken

robes, breathing heavily, his heart pounding, anticipating the blazing pain that was to

follow.

There was something in the wild glint in Dáire’s eyes that alerted Star he had gone

beyond their little game and had entered a place she knew he had no desire to be. Very

quickly, she bent over him and undid the gag, tossed it away and slanted her lips across

his, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, her bare breasts pressed against his chest. She

kissed him hard then pushed up, staring down into his pale face.

“I love you, Dáire,” she said, holding his gaze.

It took a moment for him to retreat from the hell he had almost plunged into. His

head was thudding with a brutal pain that threatened to explode from his temples but

he refused to let his lady know. He forced a smile to his lips.

“You’d better take advantage of me being tied up, Starlight,” he bit out, “because

when my hands are free…” He let the word hang there, his breath returning to normal

with some effort.

“Oh yeah?” she challenged.

“Yeah,” he said.

Star slid down him until she could take his nipple into the warm recess of her

mouth. She suckled him until the pap was as hard as a little stone then she moved over

to the other one, giving it the same delicious treatment, then she nibbled her way down

the center of his chest until she could flick her tongue into the niche of his bellybutton.

What had threatened to be an unbearable interlude was fast becoming a lusty romp

that made Dáire’s cock as rigid as the wood on the four-poster. Star’s silky tongue was

spiraling around the perimeter of his navel and sending shivers down his sides. He

squirmed beneath her tender ministrations, but it was more from building lust than the

irrational fear of a few moments before.

Dragging her tongue down his belly and into the spiky hair growing at the junction

of his thighs, Star blew her hot breath over his flesh and heard her lover growl. She

placed little stabs all along that wiry hair from one side of his pelvis to the other before

settling her lips where his cock jutted from that curly thatch.

With her right hand cupping his testicles in the warmth of her palm, she gripped

that stony erection with her left hand and took the velvet head into her moist mouth.

Dáire’s hips arched upward of their own accord and he growled again, his teeth

clenched together as Star’s mouth worked over the head of his staff. He tensed as the tip