His Wicked Celtic Kiss (9 page)

He was damned pleased, more than he thought he would be. Lorcan led her into the kitchen, then piled food on the paper plates and heated them in the microwave. They moved back to the living room. “Tell me, Julie. Have you had much sex or am I embarrassing you again?”

Julie chewed thoughtfully. “I'll answer the question if you do.”

Lorcan laughed. Aye, he did like her, a lot. He liked her enough that he would not make any further physical demands on her tonight, even though he was still aroused. Maybe this sex talk was not a good idea. “All right, darlin'. I haven't had as much as you think. Since I was in the army for years, there wasn't a lot of opportunity for a shag. If you want a running count, I really don't know. Two dozen, maybe. Your turn.”

Lorcan took a forkful of beans and rice. He knew the exact number, thirty-nine. It seemed trivial that he'd kept a precise accounting, yet he didn't want to come off as a smug, conceited man who notched the bedpost after every encounter Did he see surprise in those stunning hazel eyes of hers? Did she think his sexual conquests were in the triple digits?
Not feckin' likely.

“Two,” she replied in a firm voice.

“How recent was the last time?” Lorcan asked.

“Over three years ago ... you?”

Ouch. Well, I wanted to be honest.
“Five weeks past, but that was the first time in many months. She was nobody,” he assured her, but then worried it made him seem like a man on the prowl for casual sex. When he first left the army, he was that man. Not so much lately and since he'd decided to focus his attentions on Julie, he didn't want another woman. Surprising, that. “Maybe we should change the subject. I'm sounding more like that man-whore I turned into with the secret service.”

Julie laid her hand on top of his. “I didn't expect you to be a monk,” she whispered, her mouth curving into a bemused smile. “I thank you for your honesty. My two experiences were lackluster. Obviously.”

Lorcan felt his heart bang a few extra beats. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Then we'll have to make sure your next experience is off the charts. Not tonight … but, love? Soon. Very soon. I want to be the one who shows you what pleasure can be had between a man and a woman. We'll take it slow, savor each encounter. Will you let me ... teach you? Because you're a passionate, sensual woman, Julie, with so much to offer. Never doubt it.”

She gave him a brilliant, blinding smile. “I want it to be you, Lorcan. I want it to be you who shows me ... everything.”

Julie sat in her darkened apartment and rubbed her forehead, which had started to ache. She was tired but too wound up to sleep. The Westminster chime of the old clock on the wall bonged twice. Lorcan had seen her home three hours ago and she'd been sitting here ever since reliving what had happened and trying to make sense out of it. The disorder of the boxes and bags all around her matched her chaotic thoughts.

The two times she'd previously had sex? One incident was an awkward, quick fumbling in the back seat of a rusted out Chrysler K-car, the other in a mediocre, mid-level hotel room. Both men were nondescript and unmemorable, the thought of the encounters barely stirring any reaction from her at all. And self-gratification hadn't come close to the ecstasy Lorcan had brought her.

Why was the Celtic god interested in her—of all women? To her shock and surprise, he was, and it pleased her. Julie had meant what she'd said at their dinner at the restaurant and again at his apartment. She would make a real effort not to speak or think those self-destructive feelings any longer. She was done with the whiny pettiness and self-pity or lamenting her lack of beauty. A clingy woman who needed constant reassurance? No way in hell would that be her. For the first time in her life she would enjoy the attention, and as Ronnie instructed—be herself.

Soon, love ...
She sighed. If only he'd meant that endearment. In the UK, they often tossed “love” out and it meant no more than
hey, buddy
. He did promise off-the-charts sex. Maybe she should've got it in writing. She laughed, then sobered. Julie wanted what most people did—to be loved for herself. The whole package. Maybe ... just maybe, that's what Lorcan Byrne wanted too, for people to see beyond his looks to the man beneath.

She'd been given a glimpse beneath the protective covering tonight. And now she wanted to know more.

• • •

The next day, Lorcan strode through the front doors of The Playpen. He waved to Nick, who stood behind the bar preparing for the opening at two that afternoon. Nick worked a few shifts a week behind the bar for extra money until the renovations on his own place, The Chief, was completed. A shaft of guilt moved through Lorcan. Damn his fire-starter cousin, Ronan, for putting him in this position. He longed to tell Nick what he knew about the fire, but he had sworn to himself he would honor his strict personal code of protecting his family, no matter what, so he remained silent. Didn't sit well with him at all. Lorcan shook his head and headed for the back office to find Sully.

Lorcan, Sully, and Ronan had a rough and tumble upbringing not far from the North Quays. While they all dabbled in petty crimes as lads, Sully and Ronan became more involved in the selling and distribution of drugs, specifically amphetamines after Lorcan signed up for the army. Lorcan preferred to know nothing about it, then and now. Sully swore he wouldn't deal drugs for the De Lucas, and so far it seemed to be the truth. Sully ran the club—that was all. If there was more going on, Sully never said and Lorcan remained silently relieved.

He knocked twice and entered. Sully sat at the desk reviewing a pile of invoices. He glanced up at Lorcan and smiled, “Not driving the old man today?”

Lorcan shook his head. “Not 'til three. How about we grab some beak?”

Sully stood. “Food sounds like a plan. The cook's in. He'll make us a good breakfast, a fry up—eggs, bacon, the whole ball of wax. We'll eat it here in the office, all right, mate?”

Lorcan agreed and Sully strode toward the kitchen area. He stood a shade above six feet, and was built like a brick wall, his shoulders barely fitting through the doorframe. Solid muscle. No one pushed Sully around back when they were kids mucking about the streets. Like Lorcan, he wore his hair long. The thick, black waves barely touched his shoulders. Heavy, dark brows sat low over clear, blue eyes, completing the so-called
black Irish
look. He also had a don't-mess-with-me look on his puss. But Lorcan knew better. Under that tough, rugged exterior beat a gentle heart that Sully didn't show to just anyone.

Sully was someone Lorcan could talk to about anything. As much as he had grown close to Nick these last few weeks, discussing Julie with him wasn't an option, especially since she was Veronica's friend. No, he would discuss this with Sully, though the man didn't exactly have a lot of experience with women, given his shyness around those of the opposite sex.

Twenty minutes later, they chowed down on fried eggs, bacon, hash browns, fried tomato, and toast. Sully belched, pushed the empty plate away, and leaned back in his chair.

“You've something on your mind, Lorcan. I can see it in those gleaming green eyes of yours.”

Lorcan held his mug of steaming tea and glanced down at the liquid. “A woman.”

“Bleedin' hell, already? You've only been here a month or so. That piece De Luca the heir passed around?”

Lorcan winced. “No, Veronica Barnes's friend that I met on that double date a few weeks back.”

Sully large, heavy brows lifted in question. “The mouse? Thought you said she'd been touched with the ugly stick?”

Lorcan set his tea on the table and came out of his chair in a flash. He gave Sully a murderous look. His fists clenched as the temptation to pound the bugger into next week filled his thoughts.

Sully slowly smiled. “Ah, it's like that, then? Sit down, mate. I wanted to see your reaction. You
did
call her a mouse, I recall. Plain Jane, or is her name Julie?”

Lorcan sat and picked up his tea. “Julie,” he mumbled. “And she isn't plain.” He flinched at the term. Sully spoke the truth. He had described her that way.
Jaysus.
He was glad he'd taken a second look and delved deeper. “There's something about her. She's touched a part of me no other woman has. Not even close.”

Sully smiled. “Is that a fact? Surprising, since you barely give any woman a second look.” His friend knew him well.

Lorcan sipped his tea thoughtfully. “Not sure how to proceed here. I'm determined to leave come the new year. I've been from home long enough. Believe it or not, I miss it.”

Sully crossed his arms. “Aye, so?”

“You're a load of help, mate,” Lorcan snorted.

“You want to see her, do so. What's the problem? Unless you're feeling more for her than you're letting on.” Sully sat up straight in his chair, those thick eyebrows shooting skyward. “Jaysus, mate, is that it? You've fallen for her?”

Lorcan sputtered, almost choking on the tea. “I hardly know the woman!”

“But?” Sully prompted.

“She—affects me.” He shook his head. “It's a wee bit daunting. I'm not ready for anything serious. With her, it could turn down that road if I'm not careful. I did tell her I wanted us to see each other.”

“So dump her.”

Lorcan put down his mug hard against the desk, and tea sloshed over the rim. “Jaysus, I thought I could talk to you about this. Mr. Sensitivity you aren't, mate.”

Sully shrugged. “I know next to nothing of women and their affects on men. You want to date her, go ahead. Just keep her at a distance. Have your fun and leave when your time's up. What is so bloody difficult about it all?”

Lorcan shook his head and laughed. “Aye, you're right. In fact ... ” Lorcan stood, fishing his iPhone out of his pocket. “I'll call the little darlin' right now.”

Sully smiled. “There you are, happy to help.”

• • •

Julie clicked off her cell phone. Sunday afternoon—at the beach? Was he serious? Stark, cold horror covered her entire body. She didn't have a bathing suit, never a sun worshipper, hadn't been to a beach since the age of seven. The beach was where all the thin, attractive people hung out. Even with the weight loss, she still felt a little self-conscious about wearing next to nothing in front of other people. But she couldn't sit on the sand in her sweats. No, she would have to bite the bullet and go shopping for a swimsuit. Stand in front of three-way mirrors that hid nothing.
Yikes.

She tossed her phone next to the boxes sitting on her sofa. Well, it would be a one-piece job, obviously. And she would buy one of those beach cover-ups. Too bad they didn't come in burqa style covering her head to toe. What would Lorcan wear, one of those skimpy European-style Speedos? Seeing his bare chest again would be enough to send her into a lust-filled haze, but a body hugging, nothing-left-to-the-imagination bathing suit? She might need to bring an oxygen tank.

What in hell would they do at the beach? Play Frisbee? A vision of her huge breasts smacking her in the face made her shudder. Or maybe they would run along the beach hand-in-hand in slow motion like those Jamaican vacation resort commercials.

Right.

Since it was late August, would there even be any bathing suits left in the stores? They were putting out the Halloween crap already. Grabbing her bus schedule, she studied the route that would take her to Walmart in the outskirts of the city. Better go now before she chickened out.
Remember the vow
, she reminded herself.
Banish all self-doubt.

Twenty minutes later, she'd luckily managed to find a simple, black one-piece suit on the clearance rack that had a high neckline and support for her ponderous bust, plus a white terry cover-up that hung to the knee and sheltered her upper arms to the elbow.

She dressed with her back to the mirror in the tiny, dingy dressing room. She'd lost the weight more than four years ago, but she was still—always—surprised when the medium-sized suit went on with a minimum of tugging and stretching
and
covered all of her bits. It'd been years since she'd worn a bathing suit. She blew out a hard breath and turned, steeling herself for what she saw
.

One last look in the mirror.

But to Julie's surprise, the woman staring back at her looked … okay. Pale, but passable. The suit hugged her newly whittled hourglass shape, giving her an actual waist and cleavage, and her legs looked shapely and long thanks to the high cut of the suit on her hips. All right, she looked more than passable. She looked … sexy. For the first time in a long time, Julie smiled at her reflection in the mirror.

• • •

On Sunday morning, Lorcan sat in the car waiting for Julie to appear. He didn't know why he'd picked the beach. Perhaps a picnic would've been a better choice. There was nothing he'd liked better than listening to waves crash on the shore back at home, but since this particular beach was located on the Chesapeake, he wasn't sure what kind of wave action there would be, if any. Still, fresh air. Sun. Having fun. He needed to kick back and relax since he had the day off.

Julie finally emerged from her apartment building. He exited the car, and walked to the passenger side and opened the door for her. He would give his da
this: He always taught his sons how to be a gentleman and opening car doors had been one of the many lessons. The behavior was ingrained and automatic. Most ladies loved such gallant gestures of a long ago time. Julie smiled and climbed in. He closed the door, walked around, and slid into the driver's side. He planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “How are you, darlin'? Ready for fun in the sun?”

“I am. Is your bathing suit on under your clothes?” she inquired, a little smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.