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‘You sure?’ Noting the flush blossoming over her fair skin, the sudden shortness of her breath, he’d bet her mind was full of the same x-rated images as were currently filling his own. He felt a self-satisfied smile tug at his lips. ‘Maybe I’ll just carry you down there anyway. Kidnap you and keep you naked to use as my sex slave.’
That earned him a flash from her eyes. ‘That wouldn’t end well for you.’
He laughed. ‘I don’t doubt it. But it’s a risk I’d willingly take. Besides, I could make use of those tights to tie you up.’
‘I’d scream. People would hear.’
‘Not if I gagged you,’ he threatened. ‘Oh, yes, I’m liking this idea more and more. Gagged. Bound. Naked …’ His words fell away in the face of the image they conjured in his mind. He wondered how long he’d be able to make himself last, taking her to the brink of pleasure again and again, until she was delirious with it. Begging him with those green eyes. Good God. Focusing his gaze on hers, he lost himself in the depths. ‘You’d have me totally at your mercy,’ he murmured.
She blinked at him. ‘I think you mean that the other way round.’
He shook his head slowly. She hadn’t the first inkling of the power she’d wield through such an act of submission. No idea of how completely she could bring him to his knees. Own him. ‘No. I meant exactly what I said.’
A clatter and a shout as something was dropped in the nearby kitchen broke the spell. Shaking off the sensual haze, Annabel slipped sideways from his hold and cleared her throat.
‘What did you want to see me about?’
He watched her hasty retreat to the other side of the desk. ‘Chicken,’ he ribbed with amusement, not the least deterred from his intention to have all that strong-willed woman freely submit to him one day. He pulled his phone from his hip pocket. ‘Can we take a look at the upcoming shift roster? I want to make a note of what days you have free.’
‘Why?’ she questioned, voice laced with enough suspicion to suggest he’d asked her to divulge state secrets.
‘So I can plan how best to split my time between here and Carriglea.’ He rounded the desk himself as she lowered herself into her chair. If the Tulaí project seemed full-on now in the early planning stages, he could only imagine how much more demanding things would become once construction started. ‘I’m going to be a busy boy. I need a schedule to work to.’
Annabel obviously approved of his sense of organisation, because without further ado she logged into the computer and called up the staff roster. Looking over her shoulder, he began plugging the relevant information into the diary app on his phone.
‘Also, can you block yourself out for the second weekend in June? We’ve an invite to Monaco for Damien Harcourt’s thirtieth birthday.’ One of the lasting legacies from Aidan’s time in the City was his friendship with the enigmatic entrepreneur. Once one of his major clients, Damien had turned out to share Aidan’s passion for gambling and equalled his skill at the poker table. With a family fortune worth billions, he also inhabited a very different world from most mere mortals – a rarefied world of glamour and fame which Annabel had had a small taste of when they’d been his guests at a spectacular, star-studded New Year’s Day ball in Vienna.
She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. ‘We?’
‘Yes, we. As a couple.’
He watched her turn away and return her attention to the computer screen, leaving him to wonder what she thought about others rating them officially as a pair. ‘And before you look for excuses to say you can’t go – that’s plenty of notice to work out cover here, and it’s all expenses paid by Damien. He sends his regards, by the way.’
‘But,’ she said, sounding cornered, ‘I don’t really know him.’
He couldn’t help liking it when ballsy Ms Frost showed her nerves. ‘All the more reason to come along. Because that’s generally how you do get to know people, Annabel, by spending time with them.’ Something she was obviously out of practice with. ‘Note it in the diary for now and think about it later.’
Once he had all her days off for the next couple of months logged onto his calendar, Aidan put the phone back in his pocket. ‘Done.’
Annabel turned to look him in the eye again. ‘You didn’t have to come in to do this, you know. You could have asked me about it any time. Or phoned.’
He grinned and nodded, delighted that she’d caught him out, seen the ruse for what it was. ‘I could have easily done that, yes.’
The frank confession made her smile, too. A rare, spontaneous smile that lit up her face and left him feeling ridiculously proud to know his actions had pleased her.
‘So.’ All too quickly, Annabel slid her mask of cool control back on. She logged out of the computer and rose to her feet. ‘Have you got everything you wanted?’
‘Not quite.’ He scooped her against him and kissed her. A long, slow melding of mouths. A kiss to carry him through until his return to London the following week.
They were both a little breathy, a little dazed, by the time he pulled back.
Looking into her eyes as he stroked a thumb over her cheek, he asked, ‘Would you do me one favour while I’m gone, a mhuirnín?’
‘Maybe,’ she said, guarded even though her gaze was still a soft-focus green.
‘Think about getting some help for the nightmares. A counsellor, or Victim Support or even your GP. Anything you choose.’
She instantly stiffened under his touch. A single blink and her gaze was once again clear and sharp. But instead of biting his head off she simply muttered, ‘OK, I’ll think about it,’ without any fight at all.
As if he’d been born yesterday and couldn’t recognise a bluff when he saw one. She’d literally keep to her word and ‘think’ about it, but nothing more. If she thought he’d let her get away with that, she had another thing coming.
‘You do that.’ He grasped her lightly by the chin to ensure he had her attention. ‘And just so you know, as well as working on the touching in public thing when I get back, we’re going to be getting you a whole lot better acquainted with the use of the word “yes”.’ He shifted his fingers to cover her lips as they parted. ‘Because I have to admit, all this denial and prevarication is becoming a bit predictable.’
Replacing his fingers with his lips, he pressed one last swift, hard kiss to her gaping mouth.
‘Have a good week. See you next Monday,’ he said, and strode out of her office before she had time to stick him with a pencil.
Chapter Five (#ulink_828faee5-4619-5b61-a9a7-e95ef4929fa0)
The following Sunday night, Annabel trudged up the stairs to her flat. Although a quiet dinner service at Cluny’s meant it was only 10.30, she felt beyond shattered. With her mother now home from the hospital, she’d been relegated to sleeping on the sofa and, as she’d predicted, her already disturbed nights had got worse. Much worse. Her entire body ached to the point that she’d started to wonder whether it would be more comfortable to bed down on the floor.
Which was why she’d been glad when Aidan had phoned earlier to tell her he was back in London and invited her to spend the night at his place. For a moment she’d considered insisting that they stick to their original plan of meeting up tomorrow on her day off, even though she was sure she was too tired even to dream tonight. But if the idea of a warm, sexy Irishman hadn’t been enough of an incentive to lure her into accepting his offer, the prospect of a night in his big comfy bed had proved irresistible.
All she had to do now was stay awake long enough to collect some clothes and grab a cab over to East London.
She turned her key in the lock and pushed open her front door. Over the noise of the TV coming from inside she was surprised to hear a familiar deep, Irish-accented voice. Sure enough, when she made her way to her sitting room she found Aidan, standing with her mother by the bookcase, the two of them absorbed in conversation.
‘What’s going on?’ Annabel said.
The talking stopped abruptly as they turned towards her.
‘Oh, hello, darling. I didn’t hear you come in,’ Ellen said, reaching to return the photograph of Annabel and her father to its place on the shelf. Although her red hair and green eyes had begun to fade somewhat as she aged, it was obvious that mother and daughter shared the same genes. ‘I was just reminiscing. Probably boring poor Aidan to tears.’
Annabel turned her attention to Aidan and felt a flutter in her stomach. Looking sinfully gorgeous in his black bike leathers, he started across the room to greet her. Had it really only been a week since she’d last seen him? Strangely, it felt like years.
‘What are you doing here? I thought I was coming to you?’
‘And I thought it would be nice to come and pick you up.’
‘You didn’t need to do that.’ In fact she’d have preferred it if he hadn’t. God only knew what the two of them had been talking about. In his efforts to get Annabel to bare all to him, Aidan was a shameless snoop, and her mother had never learned how to exercise discretion in response to an enticing male smile.
‘If you want the truth, I couldn’t wait,’ Aidan said, enclosing her in the feel of soft leather and strong arms, and pressing a tender but brief kiss to her lips. As she looked up at him, the fluttering in her stomach morphed into a full-on swoop. Framed by the glossy tousle of his hair, every bit as inky-black as the collar it skimmed, his stunning silvery-grey irises, ringed by a darker border of charcoal, looked even more striking than usual.
Especially as they were focused with such keen intensity on her.
‘Isn’t that considerate?’ she heard her mother say with a giggle. The words seemed to come from a great distance. ‘I’m so glad he came over. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him. We’ve been having such a lovely chat.’
Which was exactly what worried her. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘Not long.’ The way he smiled gave her the impression that he could sense her discomfort, which made her even more paranoid about what he’d been up to.
‘Well … I’ll quickly grab some things and we can go.’
‘I took the chance of bringing the bike, if that’s all right.’ Aidan released her. ‘And some kit for you to wear.’ He picked up a canvas bag from the table where two helmets also sat. Recognising the bag from the night he’d shown up to collect her from Cluny’s on his bike, she took it, knowing it contained a set of women’s leathers Aidan kept as spares.
She hurried to the bedroom, changed and packed in record time, and returned to the sitting room to find her mother and Aidan once more deep in conversation.
‘The exercises are hard,’ Ellen was saying. ‘Especially as I feel so weak after being bedbound for so long. But David is such a patient, charming man that he could get me to do anything.’
An unexpectedly loud snort escaped Annabel. That had always been her mother’s biggest problem. Since she’d found herself widowed, she’d let too many men charm her into doing anything for them. David, her physiotherapist, was merely the latest in a long line of infatuations. Annabel could only hope that Ellen’s ability to judge character had improved since the attack. They didn’t need any more disasters like Tony Maplin ruining their lives.
‘I’m ready to go,’ Annabel told Aidan.
He crossed the room but, instead of getting ready to leave, curled his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She hadn’t forgotten the arrogant proclamations he’d made in her office before he’d jetted off to Ireland, and it would seem he was intent on keeping his word about getting her used to touching. She could pull away – show him she wouldn’t be bossed about. But, truth be told, as tired as she was, all she really wanted to do at that moment was sink further into the feel of him, solid and strong and warm against her. It was a dangerous urge. Hadn’t she learned that it was foolish to rely on somebody else to hold her up? That the only person she should trust not to let her fall was herself?
‘We were discussing the importance of physio in aiding recovery, a mhuirnín. Your mother was saying that, even though it can be painful and unpleasant, it’s a vital part of the healing process. I’m sure you’d agree with that?’
Annabel flexed the hand of the arm that had been broken, feeling the returning strength her own set of physical therapy exercises was giving to the unused muscles. ‘Yes, of course.’
He smiled and nodded at her before turning back to her mother. ‘And you were saying much the same thing about the psychological aspect of your recovery, Ellen. That the counselling assistance you’ve been receiving has been every bit as important as treating the physical trauma.’
Her mother agreed with enthusiasm. ‘It’s been fabulous, really. So helpful. I couldn’t have coped without them visiting me in the hospital.’
Not liking the sudden over-precise way Aidan was speaking, nor where he seemed to be steering the conversation, Annabel tried to pull away.
The arm around her shoulders tightened, anchoring her to his side.
He turned to her. ‘Did you know your mother suffered terrible nightmares after the attack?’
Sensing an ambush coming, she stared straight ahead, refusing to look at him or answer beyond a vague ‘Oh?’
‘Yes, she was just telling me all about it.’
Oh. Across the room, she saw her mother nod again. ‘Absolutely dreadful they were. I hardly dared fall asleep.’
‘And now?’ Annabel heard Aidan direct the question at her mother although she could sense his attention remaining firmly focused on her.
‘Now … none.’ Ellen gave a happy shrug. ‘Talking about it has been so therapeutic, I sleep as well as I ever did.’
The arm around Annabel’s shoulders squeezed. ‘That’s great news, isn’t it?’
Crap. She was well and truly backed into a corner.
‘Annabel?’ Aidan’s voice sounded again. ‘Don’t you think?’
She was aware of both him and her mother looking at her expectantly. What the hell was she supposed to say? ‘Hmm, great. Can we go now?’
‘Sure.’ Aidan released her and went to kiss her mother on both cheeks. ‘Lovely to see you, Ellen,’ he said. ‘I’m certain, now that Annabel is looking into getting help for her own nightmares, it won’t be long before she’s looking as glowing with health as you are.’
Damn him.
As Aidan moved away to gather the helmets from the table, Annabel watched her mother blink a few times before her features settled into an expression of surprised concern. ‘Bel, darling?’ she queried. ‘Are you having trouble? I didn’t realise …’
Annabel sighed. She was never going to hear the end of this now. ‘It’s nothing, mum, I’m fine.’ Which was more than was going to be said for Aidan Bloody Interfering Flynn once she got him alone.
She narrowed her gaze on him as he came up and passed her a helmet. She really hoped that was a hint of smugness she detected in the lopsided smile he gave her, because she was going to take immense pleasure in knocking it off his face.
‘Let’s go.’
* * *
A short time later they were divesting themselves of helmets, gloves, bags and jackets in the entrance hall of Aidan’s place. Set on the fourth floor of a converted warehouse, the apartment was an airy, loft-style affair with exposed brick and pipework and an abundance of large metal-framed windows dominating the walls of the open-plan living area. Befitting the building’s architecture, the place was furnished in solid, masculine style – lots of dark leather and chunky wood, accentuated by shiny industrial appliances and the latest tech toys. It looked exactly what it was – a very well-to-do bachelor’s pad.
Annabel had been surprised the first time Aidan had brought her here. Working out that her own ‘executive’ flat could fit into the space five times over, she’d wondered how someone on a barman’s salary could afford such slick city living. Given his relationship to Richard Landon, her boss and the owner of Cluny’s, she’d guessed at family money. But that had been before she’d learned how successful a career Aidan had had in the financial sector before the credit crisis had hit and he’d lost his job. And very nearly a whole lot more besides.
As soon as his hands were free, Aidan reached for her. ‘At last,’ he said through a wide smile, ‘I can kiss you hello properly.’
He thought she was going to let him off that easily? She sidestepped around him. ‘That was a low trick you pulled with my mother.’
‘What trick would that be?’
She wasn’t fooled for a minute by the look of bafflement that replaced the smile. ‘You know very well. Cornering me with that therapy nonsense.’
‘Did I corner you?’ Aidan frowned.
‘Yes, you can stop with the innocent act. You know I had no intention of following it up.’
The smile reappeared and a spark of mischief flashed in his gaze. ‘And you of all people should know I play dirty when I have to, Annabel,’ he admitted without a trace of shame.
Oh, yes. She knew that about him. She also knew he was quite a contradiction. At times capable of being one of the most unscrupulous yet highly honourable men she’d ever come across. That was his charm – a dangerous charisma that she’d been wary of right from the start. And with good reason. She’d watched charmers in action all her life. Watched them trick her mother. Smiling to her face while stealing whatever they could from behind her back. Her money, her love, her dignity. Annabel had promised never to make the same mistakes; she’d sworn never to trust anyone, never to let anyone close enough to hurt her the way she’d watched her mother get hurt.
And yet, here she was, risking getting way too close to the biggest charmer of all. Never mind playing dirty – she was playing with fire.
Aidan’s expression sobered. ‘In all seriousness, I believe it’s something you should do,’ he said. ‘I know better than most the importance of healing properly after a trauma. Without all the rehab I had after the stroke – and I’m talking a veritable army of therapists – I doubt I’d be half the man I am, annoying the hell out of you tonight.’
Having quizzed him over their recent brunch about the stroke and his recovery, she knew that ‘army’ was barely an exaggeration. Aidan had been left as helpless as a newborn baby, essentially having to learn to talk and walk all over again.
‘I’m not saying it was easy or enjoyable, but it was necessary.’ Pausing, Aidan sighed softly. ‘Now we can go ahead and start an argument about my underhand tactics if that’s what you want, a mhuirnín,’ he said. ‘But we’re both tired and I’ve missed you. I’d much prefer to take you in my arms and take you to bed.’
And that was another concern. Annabel glanced towards his bedroom door with a mixture of longing and apprehension. Getting comfortable sounded delicious, but she didn’t want to make a nightmare-induced spectacle of herself in front of him again.
As usual, Aidan seemed able to read her thoughts perfectly. He stepped close and wrapped his arms around her. ‘You’ve nothing to worry about, I’ve been devising a clever plan to keep the dreams at bay tonight.’
Annabel looked up at him. ‘Oh, yes? What plan would that be?’
‘One that starts with a kiss,’ he murmured, and followed up with a soft, warm practical demonstration. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes. ‘Before moving on to stripping you naked and laying you out across my sheets.’
The heated promise in his gaze held her trapped, unable to blink. ‘And then?’
