Love and Shenanigans (Ballybeg, Book 1) (The Ballybeg Series) (33 page)

On the walk back from dinner, Gavin reached a decision. If Fiona got flustered every time he tried to tell her how he felt, he’d have to
show
her. It was time to put his seduce-and-declare-undying-love plan into action.

“Those fish and chips hit the spot,” he said, sliding the key into the lock and opening the door to their room at the bed and breakfast. “I’m giving Mrs. O’Leary a nice tip for that recommendation.”

“Yeah, the food was delicious, but I’m now freezing.” Fiona huddled into her winter coat, red-nosed and with her scarf pulled tight around her neck.

“Hey, it was your idea to eat them outside, not mine,” he said with a laugh, tossing the key onto the nightstand. Wiggly Poo bounded straight to his basket and snuggled up with Ducky, his favorite dog toy, held in his jaws.

“I know eating outside in this weather was a crazy thing to do, but the view over the harbor was so gorgeous I wanted to savor it.” She shrugged off her coat and scarf and hung them by the entrance.

“If you’re cold, I’m more than willing to warm you up.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” she laughed. “Completely without an ulterior motive, I’m sure.”

“Of course,” he said, closing the distance between them. “Come here.”

He bent to claim her sexy lips. The kiss was soft, hot. She gave a little moan and slipped her arms around his back. He pulled her closer.

Her tongue slid into his mouth. She tasted of gin, peppermint, and something uniquely her own.

He increased the pressure, intensifying the kiss. Her breathing shifted from labored to short, sharp bursts. This felt good. Too damn good.

They crashed against the mahogany dressing table. Gavin slid his hands through her dark curls and felt the beat of her heart against his chest. In an instant, Fiona tugged his shirt free from his pants and danced her fingers up his torso, slowly at first, then gathering pace. She moved her hands up toward his nipples and playfully tugged on one. “I like,” she said and claimed it with her mouth.

“Ah.” He groaned and moved his hands beneath her T-shirt, emitting a low laugh when he reached her bra and traced its familiar lacy pattern. “Dare I hope this is the sexy red lace bra with the matching knickers?”

She released his nipple and smiled up at him. “You’ll have to wait to find out.”

Her fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons, sending one bouncing off the glass mirror of the dressing table.

“Steady on,” he said with a laugh.

“They’re fiddly.” Another button ricocheted off the dresser.

They stumbled against the wall, him tugging up her T-shirt, her fiddling with the clasp of his belt. They might be tipsy, but their fingers knew the steps to this dance.

His belt opened, and she shifted her efforts to the button and zip. He groaned as she slid her fingers into his trousers and touched his erection. She stroked the tender flesh of his penis, and he let out a low hiss. She slid to her knees, and his erection hardened in anticipation.

“No,” he said, catching her arm. “I want to kiss you first.”

Her eyes widened, then a smile curved her full lips. “Then I’d better get naked, hadn’t I?” She took a step back and, in one fluid movement, pulled her top over her head and flung it to the side.

Sure enough, underneath her T-shirt, Fiona wore a red lace bra.

Her eyes met his and held his gaze. Slowly, deliberately, she unbuttoned her jeans. She tugged them over her hips and down her legs.

Gavin’s blood pounded. Her knickers did match the bra.
Jaysus.
He was a lost man.

Biting her bottom lip, she reached for the clasp of her bra. Gavin’s heart rate kicked up a notch. The V of her top had given a glimpse of the barest hint of creamy cleavage, but nothing beat the real deal. Fiona’s full breasts were lush and begged to be touched.

She let the bra dangling from her fingers drop to the floor. Her mouth smiled an invitation.

Gavin closed the distance between them, and his fingertips met silky skin. Damnation.

“Lose the knickers,” he said.

Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened and shut. She laughed and hooked her thumbs into the sides of her underwear. She slid the knickers over her hips to display those gorgeous buttocks that had been his not-so-secret obsession since she’d inadvertently revealed them at Clonmore House.

Fiona let her knickers drop down her legs, then kicked them off her feet in an elegant dance.

“On the bed,” he said in a growl.

This time, she didn’t hesitate. She lay on the floral cover, one arm flung out to the side, the other teasing a pebbled nipple. Her breathing was low and shallow. “And now?” she asked, her eyes cloudy with desire.

“And now,” he replied, settling between her legs, “Relax.”

He kissed her breasts, nipping her nipples. She gasped and pulled on his hair, letting the fingers of one hand trace the vertebrae in his neck.

He kissed a path to her stomach and drew his tongue in an erotic circle around her navel. Her belly was perfect. Rounded with a little flesh. She was gloriously feminine, and very, very sexy.

Gavin let his tongue slide south, exploring her soft, neat curls while his fingers kneaded her buttocks.

She arched when he bent to tease her clit. “Oh. Oh, my.” She exhaled a breathy moan.

Her taste was a delicious mix of sweet and salty. He nibbled her, making her gasp.

“Don’t. Stop.”

Her breathing grew rapid, shallow. He kept up the pressure, relishing the feel of her mounting orgasm.

“You. Inside me. Now.”

“Your wish, madam, is my command.”

He rolled on a condom and pushed inside her, savoring her slick tightness.

Fiona arched her hips, welcoming him.

He stilled for a moment inside her, letting her grow used to his presence. Their eyes met, and she smiled at him, teasing him. She moved her hips invitingly, and he began to thrust.

It felt good. Amazingly good.

She parted her lips, then licked them, and he bent to claim them in a passionate kiss.

He ceased to think, gave in to the erotic rhythm and increasing pressure.

Then she gasped and cried out as she orgasmed. He kept the pressure up until the last wave receded, then succumbed to a volcano of bliss.

“Fiona,” he said when they’d more or less returned to Planet Earth. “I’m sorry about Vegas. For running out on you, I mean.”

“S’okay.” She yawned sleepily. “You’re forgiven.”

“No, seriously. I owe you a major apology, and not just for the Drew Draper screw up. It all happened at lightning speed, and it was intense. I’d always had a soft spot for you, but the Vegas trip tipped it into new territory. I wasn’t ready to admit I’d fallen in love with you. Rather than giving us a chance, I took the coward’s way out.”

She opened one eye. “Is this one of those shag-her-senseless-then-quickly-admit-emotional-attachment moments?”

He roared laughing. “Guilty as charged.”

“Ah, men. Such eejits.” Fiona propped herself up on her elbows. “Let’s be honest, Gavin. Even if you hadn’t run for hills eight years ago, it probably wouldn’t have worked. The timing was wrong. I needed the chance to develop self-confidence, and you needed to see that love and passion aren’t synonymous with turmoil and chaos.”

“I’d never felt so drawn to anyone before. Frankly, it scared the crap out of me.”

Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “In other words,
I
scared the crap out of you.”

“You were so”—he struggled to find the right words—“vulnerable. Intense.”

“Add insecure and needy to the list, and you’ve got my younger incarnation summed up.” She grinned at him, and he had the urge to trace the curve of her smile with his index finger.

“Where do we go from here? I don’t want these days in Clare to be it for us.”

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Let’s worry about our future later. First, I need to confront Bernard.”

BERNARD BYRNE WAS NOT having a good day. His niece was making damn sure of that—and relishing every millisecond of his discomfort.

With Garda Brian Glenn sitting to her right, Fiona smiled across the conference table at her uncle and Aidan Gant. Bernard’s toupee was off-center, as sometimes happened to him in moments of great stress. This meeting definitely qualified.

“So you see, Bernard,” she said, handing him a copy of Ann Dunne’s sworn statement, “you have no choice.”

Bernard stared at the paper as if it were laced with anthrax.

“Aidan assures us he had
nothing whatsoever
to do with the forged will.” Fiona gave Aidan a significant look. She knew damn well he was in this business up to his balls, but unlike Bernard, he’d been smart enough to cover his arse. “Garda Glenn assures me there’s enough evidence to charge you, but as I’m sure Aidan will agree, settling out of court is in both our best interests. The Irish judicial system being what it is, it could take years to sort out, and the only winners would be the lawyers.”

Bernard licked beads of moisture from his upper lip. “What are you suggesting?”

“That you pay me and Bridie the value of the land you stole from us at the price we would have gotten had we sold it right after Nana died.”

His eyes bulged. “But that was during the property boom! It’s not worth anything like that amount now, nor was it before.”

“Tough shit, Bernard. Those are my terms—along with three other stipulations.” She smiled at him, enjoying prolonging his agony.

“What stipulations?” He dabbed sweat from his forehead with a monogrammed handkerchief.

“Firstly, the fairy tree stays. There’s no reason you can’t build your shopping center a few hundred meters down the road.”

Bernard and Aidan exchanged glances. “Fair enough,” Aidan said—he would agree to pretty much anything as long as it didn’t jeopardize his stake in the shopping center, and Fiona was perfectly happy to play that card for all it was worth.

“Secondly, you buy out Gavin’s share of Clonmore Lodge.”

“This is outrageous!” A vein in her uncle’s temple bulged.

“All right,” Aidan said, shooting his client a warning look. “What’s the final stipulation?”

“It’s in both our best interests if those details don’t reach Garda Glenn’s ears.” Fiona winked at Brian. During the drive from the police station to Aidan Gant’s offices, she’d filled him in on the particulars. While she doubted he’d be solving organized crime anytime soon, he’d proved surprisingly quick on the uptake regarding her uncle.

Flashing her a grin, Brian pushed back his chair and stood. “I’ll just nip to the loo. Don’t break any laws while I’m gone.”

After Brian closed the door, Fiona turned to Bernard. “My final stipulation is this: I want whatever evidence you’ve conjured to frame Gavin for stealing money from your company.
All
copies of said evidence. You promise—in writing—not to jeopardize Gavin’s career in any way. Understood?”

Bernard’s nostrils flared, and he turned an interesting shade of puce. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Aidan put a firm hand on his arm. “What if Bernard doesn’t agree to your terms?”

“Then this will not only go to the courts, but to every tabloid in the country. How do you think Deirdre and Muireann will feel about being dragged into a scandal? And as for you, Aidan, how do you think your political pals will react to the news of your most prominent client and future business partner forging his own mother’s will and cheating his sister and orphaned niece out of their inheritance?”

Bernard slid a look of appeal to Aidan. Aidan ignored him.

“Bernard will be delighted to take the deal,” he said smoothly. “Put the specifics in writing, and I’ll get on it right away.”

After confronting Bernard at Gant’s, Fiona’s adrenalin spike plummeted. She’d spent the two days since their return from Clare orchestrating today’s confrontation. It had left her drained of energy and all out of sass. Needing to be somewhere she could be alone and clear her head, she went to the place that had been her refuge in times past—the Book Mark. Sitting in the familiar surroundings, now freshly painted and decorated, she tried to make sense of her racing thoughts.

One thing was clear: she had to make a decision. At Bridie’s hospital appointment that morning, the doctors had given her the green light to go back to work on a part-time basis when the shop reopened for business tomorrow. By the end of January, she’d be back full-time.

After months of willing this day to come, Fiona was free to rebook her ticket to Australia. So why wasn’t she whisking out her phone and making the call? Was she truly contemplating taking the biggest gamble of her life and staying in Ballybeg with Gavin?

When she heard the jangle of the Book Mark’s door, her heart jumped. Philip stood on the threshold, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. In his left fist, he clutched a bunch of drooping yellow roses. She knew what he was about to say before he opened his mouth.

“FeeFee, we were so good together. Please give us another chance.” He held out the bunch of flowers.

She squinted at the ribbon binding the stems. “If you selected a bouquet to symbolize our relationship, you chose well. But if your intention was to woo me, you need a refresher course on chivalry.”