His Fire Inside - Page 21

I hear a door close, and my eyes flash to the clock on the bedside table. One in the morning. Is he really working, or is he staying away from me? Before I lose my nerve, I’m up grabbing my silky black robe and tying it tight as I open my door and gasp when I find Rourke almost directly outside it. He was going into the bathroom; he’s only got on a thin, silky robe that makes it very clear he’s naked below the robe.

He blinks at the bright light I had flipped on the moment I opened the door. When he turns away to keep going into the bathroom, without thinking I reach out to stop him. My hand lands on his arm, and at the feel of the hard muscle, my hand tightens before I realize in horror what I’ve done as Rourke turns back to face me. Oh man, this was a bad idea. Bad, very bad. He’s angry. He’s the volcano ready to blow. Instinctively, I take a step back. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to talk to you and I wasn’t sure...” My words dry up under the red-hot anger in his eyes.

“You could have called me like a normal person. I told you in the beginning if you ever need me to call me. I’m not going to have a conversation with you in the middle of the night with both of us half-naked. Good night.”

Without another word or look he’s gone, closing the door to the bathroom with a final click. Why was he so mad at me? Why the fuck am I crying? God, I fucking hate him. Slamming my door, I throw myself onto my bed. I never hear the door open. One moment I’m on my bed, the next I’m pulled off the bed by my arm. “Are you trying to wake my mother? What the hell is the matter with you? Is that what this was, to set me up? Because you know if my mother catches me in your room she’ll force me to put a ring on your finger.”

The words are so ugly, so angry, I’ll do anything to make them stop. Stop. I press my hand against his mouth. “Stop no, please, it wasn’t like that. You fucking coward.”

Rourke’s hand grabs me by the wrist so tight I have no doubt it will be bruised tomorrow morning. “Coward? I’m not a fucking coward for not wanting to end up forced to marry a woman to keep from losing my mother’s respect.”

“No, you’re a coward for hiding from what you feel, what you want because of some stupid fear of what might happen. Maybe isn’t a good reason to twist yourself and everyone around you into knots instead of living life every damn day as it comes without fear.”

“Big words coming from a woman who on the basis of one mistake, refuses to live her own damn life. You go from one patient’s house to another, keeping people from getting close with smart-ass remarks and hiding behind a smile. The minute you start to get attached it’s on to the next patient, never staying for long, never taking on patients who aren’t in good health so you have to worry about losing them. No home of your own, no life of your own, I wouldn’t call that living life. Before you start calling people cowards, take a look in the fucking mirror.”

Letting me go, he pushes me away as he walks out of my room. This time he closes the door with a firm, soft click.

***

Rourke

It’s been two days since the night in Olivia’s bedroom when we tried to tear each other apart to keep from tearing our damn clothes off. She recognized my fear, and I fucking hate the way she knows about what I see as a weakness. The way she struck out at me landed a blow I’d believed I was long past feeling. Then I turned right around, trying to hurt her, to push her, and I landed a punch too. At the pain in her eyes I hated myself, hated the whole fucking situation. I don’t want to hurt her, not ever again. Yet even through all the harsh words, I was a hair’s breadth away from throwing her on her bed and fucking her until neither one of us could move.

Two damn days since I found out I was fooling myself into thinking I could keep away from her. Not a single day was free of me thinking of Olivia, and the nights were the worst. I’m not sure what the hell I was thinking staying here sooner. I haven’t seen her since, and yes, I’ve been working at it. I’m exhausted when I come home in the hopes this will be the night I fall asleep without needing to jerk off like a fifteen-year-old kid. I’ve taken so many cold showers my balls shrink every time I walk past the bathroom.

Tonight I don’t have a choice in avoiding her. It’s a ritual for my mom and me to have dinner the night before the festival begins, as it’s usually over before we have dinner together again. She’s already called in all the bad stuff from our favorite Vietnamese place for delivery. If I don’t leave now I’ll be late. With a sigh I shut down and leave.

When I walk through the door my eyes find Olivia immediately. What the fuck is it with her and muscle-bound guys who have something against shirts? She’s smiling up at a guy in a tight white shirt who is inches away from her, and he has his hand on her arm as if he’s showing her something. Every muscle in my body tightens, preparing to do battle; my hands become fists, clenching with the need to break every bone in his body for laying a hand on Olivia. I’m not aware I make a noise, but the growl has to come from somewhere. Instantly, Olivia jumps, blushes then moves, only the guy does too, and right into her. I move fast across the room, and my hand goes around Olivia’s arm as I pull her up against me. “Leave,” rumbles out of me in a growl as I fight for control of my emotions. The guy is gone in seconds, slamming the door behind him.

With him gone I turn my attention to Olivia. Her eyes are wide. She’s shaking her head. “What is the matter with you? I was just talking to him. He was showing me the plans for the kitchen. The guy was married; I had zero interest in him and he had less than zero interest in me.” She tries to shake me off, but I can’t let her go. Her soft curves against me soothe the savage in me still threatening to break free. She feels it, a sigh slips from between those sweet lips of hers and she moves against me, pressing herself closer. “Don’t you get it, you idiot? I don’t meet and instantly want just any guy. It’s only ever happened once, and I know it’s stupid and crazy that it was you but—”

The second she says you, my control snaps. She doesn’t get another word out before my mouth is on hers, sweet, so fucking sweet. I want more, I want to taste every inch...plum, black cherries, she reminds me of a pinot noir, as subtly sweet and intoxicating. Her hands are in my hair, her breasts nearly flattened against my chest, and we still aren’t close enough. I want, I need to be inside her. Then I hear the rumble of the garage door. Holy fucking shit.

I wasn’t even thinking of my mother. It’s a bucket of ice water down my back. Thank fuck it hit Olivia too. Her eyes are wide, mouth soft and swollen. A mere glance would give it away she’s been kissed thoroughly. She moves fast down the hall, nearly slamming the bathroom door closed.

Running a hand through my hair, my tongue sweeps out to taste my lips before I wipe my mouth. I swear I can still feel Olivia’s mouth on mine. The door leading out to the garage opens, my mother’s smile is triumphant. “I went and got the takeout all by myself. I only took out one parked car while doing it. Oh, I’m joking dear, don’t look so fierce. Did you meet Christopher, the architect? Did he leave already?”

“Yes, he needed to get home to his wife.”

“Oh yes, they were only recently married and already a baby on the way. I’m so happy I’m able to give him a job when he needs it the most, and I love his ideas. What did you think?”

I turn my attention to the sketches laid out on the island, thankful to have something to focus on. He wanted to move the stove away from the wall to the island. “I don’t know, Mom. It means you’ll have to go electric. I don’t want gas lines rerun.”

“I’m fine with that, dear. You know I’m barely cooking now. I enjoy baking better with electric, the oven cooks more evenly.”

Olivia rounds the corner. She’s back to her normal self, and barely looks at me as she greets my mom. Since the wind is high and it’s a little humid, we sit down at the table in the dining room. For a while the talk is about the kitchen, then it goes to the festival and who will be coming to town.

With a sigh after I list the music lineup, Olivia shakes her head. “I’m old. I have no idea who any of those people are. I also don’t care, I’ve never been into indie stuff.”

“Let me guess, rap and R&B?”

Her eyes go wide then narrow. “How do you know?”

“You were singing along to a Drake song once when I came home late.”

“Oh, sorry if I disturbed you.”

I make the mistake of meeting her eyes. Everything about her disturbs me. “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t that loud.”

Tags: Fiona Murphy Romance
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