One King's Way (On Dublin Street 6.5)

I tried to discern whether he meant it or not and decided I couldn’t tell. Hoping he was serious, I nodded. “My name is Rain Alexander. I own an online clothing boutique with my younger sister, Darcy. It’s called Darraign and we’re doing quite well with it. We design the clothes together and I handle the business side and manufacturing. Darcy is the dressmaker. Most of our stuff is manufactured but we sell limited-edition pieces that Darcy handcrafts. I’m extremely independent and always have been, I know what I want and what I don’t want and I have no room for compromise. I like the color red, I like romance novels and historical dramas. I always say what I mean and I never accept less than what I want from a man.”

Craig’s gaze grew heated at my final words. “In the bedroom or in life?”

My skin flushed at the thoughts I saw swirling in his gaze. “Both,” I whispered.

Our gazes locked and the heat between us intensified as the rest of the bar just melted away, darkness blurring my peripheral vision so all I could see was him. My eyes fell to his mouth and I wondered how he would kiss. Would his kisses be soft, coaxing . . . or would they be deep, drugging . . .

A loud cackle from a girl behind me snapped me out my reverie and I jerked back in my stool, breaking the moment between us.

Craig threw an irritated look over my shoulder before sighing. When he looked at me again, the heat in his eyes was no longer boiling, but simmering quietly. “You own your own company,” he said forcibly, his voice a little thick. He cleared his throat. “That’s impressive.”

I shrugged.

“Should we add modesty to the things I know about you?”

My shrug wasn’t out of modesty. I knew having my own successful company was an impressive feat and as nice as it was to hear, I didn’t need Craig’s opinion to know that. “I’m not particularly modest, no.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not modest. Interesting. You said your company was called Darraign.” He gently grabbed my left wrist and turned my arm so that he could see the tattoo inscribed on the inside of my bicep. “You have your company name tattooed on you.” He frowned. “Darraign. As in Darcy and Raign?”

“My name is spelled like the weather, R-a-i-n. But yes, Darcy and Rain. Darraign.”

“Why the different spelling, then?” He rubbed his thumb over the inside of my wrist again and that small touch caused a lustful tightening in my breasts. I extricated my hand from him.

“Do you know what Darraign means?”

He grunted in amusement. “I didn’t even know it was a word.”

I nodded and looked down at my tattoo, drawing my red painted fingernails over the curled script that spelled out the word. “It means to vindicate. To justify or prove.”

When our eyes met again Craig’s were filled with something . . . something I couldn’t quite identify. “What?” I said softly.

“I think you just might be more than a little magnificent,” he said.

This compliment hit me square in the chest. It affected me in a way “beautiful” could never. “You don’t know me.”

“Then sit there and let me get to know you.”

Since I had no choice to sit there until Angus showed up, I ordered another wine and I nursed it for the next few hours as I waited.

During my wait Craig was never far from me. We were interrupted when more customers came in and the bar grew busier and noisier, but whenever he could get away he came back to chat to me. This time our chatter was more lighthearted as we discussed the people around us and he tried his best to make me laugh.

As three a.m. drew nearer and the club began to empty, I paid my tab and slid off my stool.

Craig’s arm shot across the bar and his large hand wrapped around mine to stop me. Desire blazed in his eyes. “Let me walk you home, Rain.”

Knowing exactly what he was asking, I shook my head sadly, wishing he were a different kind of man. “I don’t do one-night stands, Craig. I’m not that girl.”

I tugged my hand out of his grasp and walked out of the bar.

As I jumped in a taxi outside, I wrapped my arms around myself and willed away the disappointment I felt.

I was gutted.

It wasn’t every day you met someone who made your skin heat and your body spark, who made you laugh and took you at face value. Craig really seemed to like me despite my inability to flirt with him and my inability to be coy. I was forthright, and many men found that off-putting. Not Craig though.

And still it wasn’t enough.

I was still just another body he wanted to fuck.

I decided I disliked him a little for that.

Or maybe it was my dislike of Angus transferring to Craig.

Angus.

I squeezed my eyes closed, groaning. He didn’t turn up and if he had I’d probably have been too distracted to notice.

Oh, this would never do.

I had to force Craig from my mind, and I needed to start getting serious about revenge.

Craig

I have a date tonight. His name is Drew Michaels. He’s my age. Divorced. We’re meeting at D’Alessandro’s at 7:30 tonight. Love Mum xx

Craig stared at the text message he’d just woken up to and groaned.

It was happening already.

Fucking hell.

He flopped back down on his pillow at the exact moment his phone started buzzing in his hand. He brought it up to his bleary gaze.

Stevie Calling.

He answered. “Aye?”

“Sorry, man, did I wake you?”

“I was already up. Barely. You alright?”

“Aye, just wondering if you wanted to come out for dinner tonight? Audrey’s bringing her friend Natasha. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that but unlike my girlfriend I don’t want to ambush you.”