IrishAllure (2 page)

“You know a lot about the castle,” Jillian commented,
shivering a little in the gentle evening breeze.

“I read the little booklet in my room. Come on then, you’re
cold.” Fin slung an arm around her shoulders and she shivered again at the
contact. The night air had cleared her head, which meant she couldn’t blame her
reaction on the alcohol.
Be professional. He’s your client’s brother.
“What else can you tell me?” She asked to distract herself, and forced her
attention to his description of the castle’s heritage.

When they entered the hotel through a side door, Fin steered
her down a narrow corridor in the Victorian wing. “Where are we going?” she
asked him.

“There’s a small lift back here. It’s closer than the foyer,
and I think you’ll like it. It was installed in 1901, and it’s lovely.”

“Would it make for good photos?” Jillian considered how a
hundred-something-year-old elevator would look against Marianna’s modern
wedding gown. The contrast might be striking. She’d have to suggest it to the
photographer.

“I’m not so good with that,” Fin confessed, “but have a look
and tell me what you think.” He gestured ahead of them, and there it was, with
the old-fashioned half-moon dial above displaying the floor numbers, and the
elegant wrought-iron door.

He pressed the call button, and moments later the lift
rattled down and the door opened. “It doesn’t see as much use as the main lifts
do, but I’ve decided I prefer it. The staff has some interesting stories about
it too.” He led her in. “What floor are you on?”

She told him, and he punched the button. “Are you there
too?” she asked when he didn’t press any other buttons.

“No, but I’ll walk you to your door.”

She leaned against the lift wall as the door rattled closed,
and reminded herself that this wasn’t a date, he was just being gentlemanly,
and he was not going to kiss her at her door.

She lifted her gaze and met his, and the intensity of his
blue eyes made her breath catch in her throat. Suddenly her chest was tight,
and her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had a gorgeous mouth, his lips not thin
but not so full that they looked feminine.

He took the two steps across the lift to stand close to her,
in her personal space, so near she could feel the soft puff of his breath
against her upturned face. And then he kissed her, and she melted into his
arms, her whole body flushing under the sensation of his mouth on hers. The
gentle touch lingered, his tongue probed and she parted her lips. He pulled her
away from the wall and into his arms, holding her tight against him, his hand
sliding down her back, over her hip, coming to rest on her ass, and she pressed
closer still, his dick hard against her pelvis.

She moaned, and he slid his other hand up into her hair,
tugging it free from its pins. “Wondered what your hair was like,” he muttered.
“Love it.” In response, she undulated her hips against his cock, rubbing back
and forth and enjoying how he hardened further, how his breathing quickened.
She ran a hand over his chest, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

The elevator dinged and the door rattled open.

Jillian gasped and yanked herself out of Fin’s arms. “I—um…”
She couldn’t think what to say, so settled for “Good night,” and darted out
into the corridor. It only took a quick glance to orient herself; she was
actually closer to her room than she would be from the other elevator.

“Jillian.” Fin started forward, but the lift door started to
close, and she heard him curse as she opened her room door. Slamming it, she
leaned back against it, her hand to her mouth. What the hell had she been thinking?
Marianna Carter was not the kind of woman who would tolerate the help hooking
up with her future brother-in-law. If she found out that Jillian and Fin had
been making out, she’d probably have a shit fit and start blackballing Jillian
every chance she got.

Jillian changed for bed and firmed her resolve. She’d just
have to avoid Fin as much as possible. It shouldn’t be too hard—she had a lot
to do before the wedding, and as the groom’s brother he was also likely to be
busy. And then after the wedding she would head home and never see Fin Dunne
again.

Fin Dunne was driving her insane.

He’d shown up at her door the morning after their dinner,
smiling broadly, had taken one look at her cool, professional expression, and
had sighed. “Right then.”

He’d then stuck to her the whole morning, through breakfast
and through her tour of the facilities, despite her heavy hints that he must
have something to do elsewhere. He was now sitting down to lunch with her,
Aine, General Manager Mary Coughlan, Concierge Seamus O’Kane, and the housekeeping
manager, introduced to her only as Mrs. Thatcher. The lunch was ostensibly for
business, to ensure everything was in place for the wedding, but within the
first five minutes Jillian had already checked everything off her list. The
staff at Castle Tullamore was ridiculously efficient. She’d never worked with a
venue where she hadn’t had to chase up some small—occasionally large—details,
and confirm that everything was in place. At Tullamore, the details had already
been taken care of, and the senior staff had even made some suggestions that
had worked for previous functions.

She still had her meetings this afternoon with the head chef
and the pastry chef, the florist, the photographer, and the videographer, but
so far it looked like she hadn’t needed to arrive so early. Which would have
helped her to avoid Fin.

He sat next to her, looking absolutely delicious in jeans
and a blue button-down shirt open over a white T-shirt. In her usual
understated business attire, she felt overdressed and repressed.

Jillian pushed some of her delicious potatoes around on her
plate and sighed. Fin leaned toward her. “You okay?”

She pasted on her most professional smile. “Of course.” She
turned toward Seamus, an attractive and charming man in his thirties. “How long
have you been here at Tullamore?” She forced herself to listen attentively,
which shouldn’t have been difficult. Seamus was interesting and his lilt was
pleasant to listen to, but Fin was still leaning toward her, and he smelled
amazing, and crap, he was sliding his arm along the back of her chair!

She discreetly hitched her chair slightly away from him, but
he shifted with her, so she just ended up in the same situation, only now
closer to Seamus, who watched with an amused twinkle in his eye. “I started
here at Tullamore back when I was a lad—thought I’d get some experience working
in a hotel and use it to travel the world. Now I reckon I’ll be here as long as
they’ll let me stay. There’s something about this place that draws the soul and
keeps it. There’s magic here.” His smile was sweet and mischievous, and Jillian
smiled back. The Irish were so endearing. Even the extremely frustrating man
whose heat at her side was distracting her so badly.

* * * * *

She finally managed to escape Fin by claiming the need to
contact her staff in New York before her meeting with the florist. This was after
a long and involved discussion with the head chef, Ryan Fitzpatrick Gallagher,
and the pastry chef, Edna Sullivan—who definitely had the cake under control,
it was going to be divine.

She paced her suite, cell phone in hand and a vague
intention of actually calling Kate. As soon as she pulled herself back on an
even keel. What was
wrong
with her? Sure, Fin was hot—really hot—but
there were lots of hot men in the world. Hell, there were lots of hot men here
at Tullamore. Men who wouldn’t get her in trouble with her client. Marianna
would go insane if she found out that Jillian was kissing her future
brother-in-law, much less the other things Jillian had thought about doing to
him. Maybe she just needed a hook-up. She could find another yummy Irishman to
distract her and to buffer her against Fin. Just two more days until the bridal
party and guests started arriving, and then another day for the wedding, a day
to tie everything up, and she could go home. As best man, Fin would be caught
up in the pre-wedding hype, so all she needed to do was block him out for two
days.

The hotel had both a pub and a club, in addition to the
restaurant bar. The Dungeon was a BDSM club, so she might pass on that, but The
Cave was supposed to have great music. Tonight, she’d visit the pub and see if
she could find a distraction.

* * * * *

The crowd in The Cave was totally into the music, which was
awesome, and Jillian found that she actually liked Guinness—well, after the
first one she didn’t mind the taste quite as much. And there were many, many
attractive men present. Several of them had flirted with her, but one had been
too tall, and one was a bit pasty. She totally wasn’t into the whole
looking-like-a-vampire thing. The third guy had just been smarmy. He’d been so
sure she was going to take him up on his offer that he’d sat at her table before
she could refuse his company.

Jillian sighed and stood. As great as The Cave was, she
clearly wasn’t going to find a decent distraction here tonight. She slipped out
and strolled through the halls toward the old elevator. She much preferred it
to the modern ones off reception. It had real character, and the photographer
had agreed that it would be perfect for pictures.

She pushed the call button and crossed her arms. She could
already hear the lift rattling down when someone came up behind her. The
tingling down her spine told her that her efforts to avoid Fin had been wasted.

“Hey there.” She suppressed the shiver that his delicious
lilt evoked and pasted on a smile, turning her head to look at him as the lift
door opened.

“Hi. How was your afternoon?” She stepped in and pushed the
button for her floor and looked at him enquiringly. “Which floor?”

“Two.” His startlingly blue eyes were focused determinedly on
her, and she felt heat rising in her face as the door rattled closed. Her
throat was dry. Those eyes were incredible. He was so hot. His lips looked so
soft…

She took two steps and lifted onto her toes. In seconds she
had her mouth on those soft lips, her body pressed against his. She rubbed up
and down, loving his hard body with hers as she slipped her tongue into his
mouth. He made a startled sound but was quick to respond, his arms clasping her
close, turning them to press her against the wall. He tore his lips from hers
and planted hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline until finally he took
her earlobe between his teeth and nipped gently. Jillian’s stomach cramped.
She’d never known her ear was an erogenous zone, but lightning shot through
her. Fin undulated against her, his hard cock pressing against her pussy, then
drawing away before returning to torment her with fleeting pressure. Jillian
let go of his shoulders and grabbed his hips, grinding against him, desperate
for him.

Fin tore his mouth from her flesh and staggered back, taking
her with him. Jillian barely had time to put her hands back on his hot, sexy
skin, before he was working at her top.

Good idea
. She grabbed the hem of his shirt and
yanked it up, getting in his way and tangling their hands in the fabric.

“Jillie, wait.”

She maintained her grip. “Take it off.”

He grinned and released her shirt to take hold of his own.
“Let go.” He barely gave her time to do so before he tugged it off over his
head.

Hmm
. His chest was amazing, firm and muscled. Her
gaze zeroed in on his nipples, and she leaned forward and clamped her teeth on
one.

“Ung.” The shudder that coursed through Fin encouraged her
to lave her tongue across the nub. He shuddered again, then stroked a finger
down the side of her face.

The lift stopped and the door rattled open. Reality slapped
Jillian in the face, and she dragged herself out of Fin’s arms and staggered
back.

“Jillie, don’t you dare walk away from this again…” Fin
sounded breathless, his accent deepening, and Jillian’s knees weakened, but she
held out her hand, palm outward.

“Please, Fin. I can’t…this wedding is too important…please
just go.” Fin stood there a second longer, breathing heavily, then he growled
and stomped out of the lift, holding his shirt. Jillian sagged against the wall
as the door closed.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Jillian rose early after a restless night. She felt like
crap. She was exhausted, and even though she had less to do than ever before in
the lead up to a wedding, thanks to the incredible staff at Tullamore, she was
stressed. Damn Fintan Dunne, anyway. How dare he be so irresistible? How dare
he make her want to leap on him even though she knew, in her head, that she
shouldn’t, that it was the worst thing she could possibly do to her career?

Her cell rang, and she jumped.

Who the hell would be calling at this time? It was five in
the morning here in Ireland, and in New York it was midnight. Her blood
chilled.
Please don’t let something be wrong.
She took a deep breath and
answered.

“Jillian Baxter.”

“Jillian, is everything ready for my wedding? Is this castle
really the right choice? Maybe we should have the wedding in New York after
all.”

Marianna.

Jillian felt a strong and sudden hate for the woman, but she
choked it down.

“Hello, Marianna. Yes, everything is ready, and the castle
is
wonderful.
I’ve never seen such a perfect place for a wedding in my
life—it’s going to be spectacular. Your friends will be talking about this for
years. Your wedding is going to be the event of the decade.” She very carefully
ignored the reference to moving the wedding again. No way, no how was that
happening.

“Are you sure? My wedding has to be perfect, Jillian.” Her
tone was pure ice, the warning heavy.

“It will be. Absolutely perfect. You can ask Fin if you
like—everything is in place and it’s exactly what you wanted.”

Silence.

“What do you mean, I can ask Fin?”

Jillian’s gut froze. “Er—I just mean, he’s been very
attentive to all the wedding details. I know he wants the day to be perfect,” that
word again, “for you and his brother.”

“I see. I didn’t realize Fintan was there.” Jillian’s skin
was creeping with nervous energy. Marianna still didn’t sound happy.

“I think Michael asked him to come and make sure everything
was under control. Since you and he couldn’t be here personally.” She selected
her words carefully.

“Michael is thoughtful like that.” The frigid tones had left
Marianna’s voice, and Jillian’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Although,” she
continued, “I was a little surprised to hear you refer to Fintan so familiarly.
You should be careful, Jillian. It would be very easy for people to get the
wrong idea.” The warning was very clear.

“Yes, of course.” Jillian’s mouth was dry. “I—he asked me to
call him Fin. I don’t think he likes formality.” She reined herself in.
Babbling was not going to help her. Thankfully, Marianna seemed to have lost
interest, and after a perfunctory goodbye, hung up.

Jillian sank down onto the sofa. Any hope she may have harbored,
way in the back of her mind, of possibly hooking up with Fin had to die.

* * * * *

“Strip.”

Suddenly, magically,
they were both naked, clothes
strewn aside, and they lay back, Fin’s
mouth at her throat.

Her pussy tightened as he nibbled and licked his way down
her torso. Her skin prickled where he lavished attention. He stopped to play with
her breasts, and she sobbed with frustration
. He clamped his teeth down
on her nipple and she cried out, her hips lifting off the table.

Fin
slid his hand down her body and between her
legs and stroked through the wet heat, circling her clit as he tugged at her
nipple with his teeth. Her pussy clenched, cream sliding over his fingers, and
a moan was torn from deep inside her.

Fin
laved her nipple, soothing the tender skin,
and planted soft kisses down her stomach
. He lifted his head and briefly
met her gaze, and then glided his hand over her thigh, under her knee, and
lifted, turned. She moved with him, bending her knee, opening herself to him.

He looked down, smiled, looked back at her and licked his
lips.

First his breath wafted over her sensitized nerve
endings. Her entire body throbbed with anticipation as he hovered.
His
mouth descended that last little bit, and her eyes rolled back. His tongue,
hot, wet, laved over her clit. The throbbing increased.

He traced his fingers up the inside of her thigh, slid
through thick cream, tickled at her entrance. He abandoned her sweet spot,
instead licking down, up, lingering as if she were top-quality ice cream and he
had a sweet tooth. Her cunt clenched.

Shakily sucking air into her lungs, she expelled it on a
low moan. She lifted her hands, stroked them over her breasts, tormented her
nipples, as his tongue and lips and fingers tortured her pussy.

She bucked her hips as Fin
slid his long, clever
fingers inside, and her pussy clamped down on him as she clamped her fingers
onto her nipples, pulling in a desperate bid for release.

She heard a keening sound, was distantly aware that it
came from her, and then Fin
grazed his teeth over her clit and she
skyrocketed out of control. Her cunt contracted wildly as cream spilled over
his hand.

Jillian jerked awake, soaked in sweat. Damn it, not again.
Since she’d started trying to avoid Fin, she’d been having these dreams. Hot,
erotic dreams, where his clever hands and mouth did things that made her
scream.

Throwing back the covers, she glanced at the clock as she
climbed out of bed. Three in the morning. Too early to get up for the day but
not too early for a cool shower before she tried to get back to sleep.

* * * * *

Just one more day.
In a little over twenty-four
hours, Marianna would arrive, and Jillian would legitimately be so busy with
the bride that avoiding Fin would be easy. Not like the last few days. She was
getting tired of peering down corridors and scanning rooms before she entered.
Not to mention, as sensible as her decision to avoid him was, she kind of
missed him. Even when her stomach was tied in knots, he was wonderful company.

She sighed and wandered to her desk. In a little while she
was meeting with Ryan Fitzpatrick Gallagher—she couldn’t think of him without
using all three names—to finalize the menu details. Marianna had made another
middle-of-the-night call demanding changes, and while Jillian was more than
ready to commit homicide, the fabulous Tullamore staff had taken everything in
stride. She was definitely going to offer a Tullamore destination wedding
package as part of her services when she got home.

Sitting at the desk, she picked up the phone and dialed her
office. Kate should be just getting in now. She didn’t really need to check in;
her assistant had proved to be extremely capable of managing the business
without her.

“Jillian Baxter Events, this is Kate.”

“Hi, Kate. How are you?”

“Jillian! I’m fine, just getting sorted for today. I’m so
glad you called though.”

A frisson of worry shot through Jillian. “Is something
wrong?”

“No, not at all. Well, not really.” Kate hesitated. “It’s
just—well, remember how Damien’s aunt died?”

Jillian blinked. Damien was Kate’s boyfriend, and his aunt
had died about three months prior. Jillian had given Kate some time off to be
with Damien’s family at the time. “Ye-es, I remember.”

“Well, her will has been probated, and Damien inherited some
money.”

“Lovely! Oh, I don’t mean that how it sounded.” Jillian
winced. The death of a family member was never lovely.

“I know, don’t worry. Anyway, we’re going to take a short
vacation somewhere, but we were also thinking…you know how we’ve always wanted
to work together?”

Jillian went cold. Damien was a project manager, and Kate
had once confided that the two of them had considered going into business
together, Kate planning smaller, personal events while Damien specialized in
corporate planning. But if they were to do that, Jillian would lose the best assistant
she’d ever had.

“I know.” She squeezed the words through her suddenly tight
throat.

“Well, we thought about starting a company, but it’s really
not a good economy for that right now, plus I really love working with you, so
we thought, maybe, we could buy in to your company.”

Silence. Jillian tried to get her head around what Kate was
saying. “What do you mean?”

“We’d like to buy in as partners,” Kate’s words tumbled out
in a rush. “Damien has a business plan for expanding into corporate planning, and
the injection of capital would allow for that without affecting the existing
business. You don’t have to decide now,” she added. “Just think about it, and
when you get back we can talk.”

“Okay.” Jillian took in a deep breath. “Okay, we’ll talk
when I get back.” Her mind racing with the possibilities, she asked a few
desultory questions about the schedule for the day and said goodbye.

She’d never thought about expanding into corporate planning,
mainly because her preference was for personal events. But with Damien looking
after that aspect of the business, it was a very real possibility.

She glanced at the clock and dragged herself away from her
thoughts. Time to head downstairs.