Having Faith (19 page)

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”

Her eyes clouded.  “I thought once you knew, you might feel differently.”

Kieran pulled her up and over his body until she was nose to nose with him.  “Well, you’re right about that,” he breathed.  His hand cupped the back of her head, bringing her to him for a searing kiss.  He was beyond trying to explain it to her with words alone.  He would just have to show her.

“I’m sick,” she protested weakly when he allowed her a short break to breathe.

“I don’t care,” he mumbled, nibbling her lower lip.

“I’ll get you sick, too.”

There was no hesitation.  “Then you can take care of me.”

Her eyes softened, and her body melted into his.  “I can do that.”

“I’m in love with you, Faith O’Connell,” he said.  He hadn’t meant to just blurt it out like that, but apparently parts of his brain had had more than enough of his ‘be-a-good-friend-until-she-realizes-what-she-is-to-me plan’.  They decided to conspire against him and get on with it already.  His cock, feeling impossibly thick and hard beneath all her soft female heat, was totally on board with that.  His heart and lungs froze, no doubt waiting to see what would happen next. 

Faith’s eyes widened and she sat up, straddling his midsection.  He couldn’t stop his abs from rippling and contracting beneath her inner thighs and other, far more sensitive places.  Her hands flattened against his chest, the one currently exposed to her short nails.  Kieran closed his eyes lest she see the stark, raw hunger she was inciting with such actions.

“You love me?” she blinked in disbelief.

There was no sense denying it now.  He could try to minimalize it, but more parts were ganging up on him.  They wanted her.  Now.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice lower and huskier than usual.  The Eeyore pajama bottoms were worn thin enough that he could feel her feminine heat resting just above what was fast becoming one of his hardest erections ever, and he swore if she continued to paw his chest with her little tiny claws he could not be held responsible for his actions. 

At least she wasn’t running.  If anything, she seemed genuinely surprised by his blurted admission.  Stunned, even.

“Since when?” she asked.

Kieran’s hands flexed around her hips in an attempt to keep her still.  Every breath caused the subtlest of motions where their bodies met, but it was enough to have him worried.  He’d gone so long without relief that the anticipation alone might unman him. 

“I think from the first time I saw you,” he said honestly.  “But I knew for sure that day when you held my hand at the Open House.”

Her eyes widened and she shifted her weight.  “And you’re just telling me this now?”

He closed his eyes and tried to fight the compulsion to roll her over and claim her as his body demanded.  She was sick.  Her body needed to heal, and she needed time to adjust to the bombshell he’d just dropped on her.  His mind parroted the same phrases back to him over and over again as he struggled to regain some semblance of control. 

“You weren’t ready to hear it before.  Now you are.”  It sounded good.  He wasn’t about to admit that he’d simply been too afraid to tell her for fear of scaring her away.

Faith stared deeply into his eyes, searching.  Her fingers curled again, though she didn’t seem to be aware of it; he was fairly certain she didn’t realize her inner thighs were contracting on either side of his hips, either.

He was, though.  He liked it.  Too much.  Didn’t she know that every minute of every day she owned another piece of him?  God, he couldn’t wait until he felt those nails scoring his back, those legs wrapped around him in blind, mindless passion. 

“You sound very sure of that,” she said.

She didn’t believe him; doubt clouded her soft gray eyes.     

“I am.  Because now I know you feel the same way.”  His voice, growing huskier with each passing moment beneath her, was almost a growl.

She stilled above him.  Fear and disbelief etched her features, and he knew with absolute certainty that he had been right.  Faith knew there was something special between them.  What he didn’t know was why she was so afraid to admit it. 

“And how do you know that?” she asked, her voice a frightened whisper.

“Because,” he said gently, needing her to understand this if nothing else, “you never would have trusted me with the truth if you didn’t.  If you didn’t want more, there would have been no reason to tell me any of that.”

She remained perfectly still as she processed that.  The feel of her beneath his hands was distracting.  With much difficulty he pried his fingers from her hips and propped his hands beneath the back of his head, daring her to disagree.  It was a risk letting go of her like that, but he wanted her to know, and to accept, that the next move was hers.

He watched in awe as several emotions flitted across those expressive gray eyes even as her facial expression remained relatively neutral.  Fear, followed by surprise, then acceptance.  He would always know what she was thinking by her eyes.

After several moments, those little claws flexed again and he saw a sparkle in her eye that hadn’t been there before.  The knowledge that he had been the one to put it there turned half of his mouth into a decidedly masculine smirk. 

“You’re very arrogant,” she said with a twist of her lips.  “I haven’t seen this side of you before.”

His smirk became a full-fledged grin.  “I can be very arrogant when it comes to you, Faith.  Simply knowing you love me makes me feel invincible.”

* * *

F
aith couldn’t quite wrap her mind around that.  Surely she was dreaming, an erotic, romantic fantasy brought on by her recent fever.  It must have returned with a vengeance while she was napping. 

He certainly
felt
real enough, all warm and hard beneath her. 

Some unseen barrier between them had been breached, and there was no going back.  She needed time to process it.  Faith couldn’t fully accept Kieran’s declaration any more than she could accept what was in her own heart, but she couldn’t bring herself to openly offer resistance to his presence or the things he tried to do for her, not after he’d said
those
words.

So she said nothing.  To his credit, neither did he.  He seemed to understand.  He didn’t pressure her for the same words, or even validation, and she was grateful for that.   

They snuggled on the couch and watched some DVDs together.  She caught Kieran snooping through her sketchbook when she went to take a bath, but was secretly pleased when she saw him smiling as he turned the pages.

He made a couple of business-related phone calls, too.  Faith tried in vain to suggest that he should go take care of whatever he needed to, that she’d be fine, but he refused to leave her, saying he could take care of everything he needed to over the phone. 

He waited on her hand and foot, ensuring she drank enough fluids and rested, even making her soup and tea throughout the day.  She couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so pampered.  As unfamiliar as it was, it was also very nice. 

After several hours of resisting Kieran – something that proved to be impossible under such an onslaught of tender care – she finally gave in and just tried to enjoy it.  For more than two months, Kieran had been a constant presence in her life - always helping, listening, making her laugh.  In the past two days, Kieran had shown Faith more gentle care than anyone ever had.

And he’d told her he loved her.

Maybe that’s why Faith invited him to share her bed that night.  It had been a big decision on her part, but it was the natural progression of things.  Not that Kieran seemed to be expecting anything.  Other than that earth-moving kiss he’d given her earlier, he’d done nothing to pressure her into anything further than snuggling beneath a blanket.  He wanted to, at least physically; there was no mistaking the blatant evidence of his arousal.  And as she had such strong feelings for him, it seemed like the right thing to do.

He agreed easily enough, sliding in behind her fully-clothed, but made no move to do anything further.  His arm came around her waist and pulled her body against his.  She waited, holding her breath, expecting his hand to caress a few inches above or below where it splayed across her abdomen; to feel light kisses along the sensitive skin of her neck or the grind of his hardened length against her backside.  Yet he did none of that, settling her in to fit all of his hard planes and dips and nothing more.

“Kieran,” she asked in the darkness.  “Don’t you want to...?”  She let her question hang in the air; she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.  The invitation had been her not-so-subtle hint.  Perhaps he had misunderstood?

“More than you can possibly imagine,” Kieran breathed, his breath a sensual caress behind her ear.  He pulled her closer, pressing his hips against her so there would be no doubt.  “But you’re not ready for me yet, Faith.”

Her body didn’t agree, screaming protests in the form of a radiating ache deep in her center, but her inner self – the one who guarded the securely locked chamber of her deepest thoughts and feelings - was nodding emphatically. 

“You seem very certain of me,” she said.

“I am,” he said simply, without a trace of arrogance.  “You are my
croie
, Faith, and I am yours.  I will always be able to sense what you are feeling, even if I don’t know your exact thoughts.  You will be able to do the same for me, but first you must truly accept this connection we have between us.  And when you do, it will be nothing less than magical.  Until then, I will just hold you and try to convince you what you are to me.”

His croie?  Her?
  Earlier he had said he loved her, and that had been a revelation.  But for him to say that she was his soul mate?  That shook her to the very roots of her foundation.  Love was fleeting, but soul mates implied a much deeper, unbreakable type of bond; one that, once forged, could never be broken. 

She didn’t know what to say to that.  It seemed... unbelievable.  Too much for her to even contemplate.  And he was right.  There was no way she could simply accept that and believe it.  Not when he just blurted it out like that.  Not when she was tucked in his arms, pressed against that fabulous physique that would scatter her thoughts on a good day. 

And definitely not while her mind ran rampant with naughty fantasies arising from that especially large, rigid part of him currently nestled against her behind.

Yet he wouldn’t take advantage of her, even though he could, easily.  It was unnerving, in a way, that Kieran seemed to know more about what she needed than she did sometimes.  And he was right.  Though he claimed that he knew she loved him, she had not yet uttered the words herself.  Hadn’t confirmed them in any way, in fact, unless he saw her lack of resistance to his care as an unspoken affirmation of sorts.

The fact that it was true was completely irrelevant.  She did love him.  She’d come to that same, inescapable conclusion herself.  So the question then became, why was she unable to say what she knew in her heart to be true?  When she knew that is what he wanted to hear?

The answer was simple:  she was afraid.  Afraid of being wrong.  Of opening herself up to love and hope and being devastated again.  She had thought she loved Nathan Longstreet, but she had been wrong about that.  It had been nothing more than an adolescent crush based on a handsome face and lies; the attention given to a naïve young girl by a privileged high-school star who saw her as a temporary, disposable fling.  Stupidly, she had thought Nathan cared for her, too. 

She had also believed that her family loved her enough to forgive her transgressions, to help and support her.  Believed it right up until the time she came home from school to find a raggedy old cloth-covered suitcase packed with a few meager belongings waiting for her near the door and those words she would hear in her mind forever: 
Get out.  You are no longer welcome here, whore.

Every time she had believed in love, she had been wrong.

Faith closed her eyes, but not before a single tear managed to escape.  Nathan, she understood.  After all, she had been the one to see things that weren’t there.  But her family?  Your parents were supposed to love you no matter what.  Weren’t they?

She certainly loved her son, more than anything.  There was nothing he could do, nothing he could ever say, that would change that.  She would always be there for him, no matter what.  Even if she had the chance to go back and change things, she wouldn’t, because if she did, she wouldn’t have Matt.

And, despite the circumstances, she had loved her baby from the very moment she realized she was pregnant.  It had been a source of great contention between her and her father.  When she refused to consider giving up her baby, he had reminded her of one of his favorite Biblical passages – where God commanded Abraham to offer his only son as a sacrifice.  It was the right thing to do, he insisted.  Penance for her sins.  Proof of her devotion. 

She’d said no then, and she’d say it again today.  She offered a quick prayer of apology to God.  She knew that if she was ever given the choice between helping her son and obeying the rules of the church, unlike her parents, she would pick her son every time.  Somehow, she believed God understood that and loved her anyway, sins and all.  How could she do any less for her child?

But what about Kieran?  Did she love him? 

Yes, of course she did.  What she had felt – or thought she had felt – for Nathan all those years ago was nothing compared to what she felt for Kieran now, although the thought of Nathan still brought a lance of pain to her chest.  Time and maturity had dulled it, but enough remained to haunt her and make her wonder if she would ever truly get past the hurt and humiliation of Nathan’s rejection and outright denial that the baby she’d carried was his.

Did she believe that Kieran loved her?  If she was truthful, yes.  It made no sense to her why he would, but she believed that he did. 

So what was the problem?  Why wasn’t her heart singing in joy instead of cautiously peering around the corner, scared of what might happen next?