Forbidden Lust

“Just please tell me you will.” There was a pleading in his eyes that hit me in the chest.

I shook my head. “I can’t give you any promises, Barrett.” I pushed off the wall and quickly brushed past him and out of the library toward the dining room.

“There you are.” Finigan smiled, his blue eyes wide, his sandy hair perfectly parted to the side, dusting the tops of his ears.

“I’m here.” I smiled.

“You looked flushed. Are you okay?”

Shit.

“Just tired is all.”

“Well, we won't keep you any longer. Mom and Dad are ready to leave anyway. It was so nice to meet you, Lourde.”

“You, too, Finigan.”

“We can pretend that our parents haven’t tried to set us up, but really, we’re not idiots.”

I laughed.

“To be honest, I’m thanking them for it.” He gave me a bone-melting smile.

“You are?” I was honestly surprised by his admission.

He nodded. “I am.”

He kissed me on the cheek, and I swear he could smell Barrett on me. I was going straight to hell.

“You okay?”

“Fine, yes,” I stammered.

“So, will I see you again?”

“Sure.”

He laughed. “Okay, Lourde. Ball’s in your court. You’ve got my number.”

“Sorry, I’m just—”

He put his hand up. “No need to say anything. I really enjoyed your company, and I think you’re a beautiful woman.”

Oh.

Before I could respond, his mother walked toward me and hugged me. “Lourde, lovely to have met you. I think Finigan is very fond of you, dear,” she whispered in my ear.

I smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Connolly. Enjoy your vacation in Cannes.”

After seeing them out, we finally retreated to the living room. I sat contemplating Barrett’s request and the look in his eyes that called me.

Mom joined me while Dad poured himself a whiskey at the bar nearby.

“Well, that was a roaring success,” Mom said.

“Except for our son getting blind drunk at the table,” Dad interjected, sitting in his armchair.

“Well, yes, there was that minor mishap, but thank God for Barrett,” Mom said, her gaze falling to me.

Thank God for Barrett indeed.

“So?” Mom inquired, her eyes wide.

“So?” I stared back.

“What did you think of Finigan?”

Oh, him.

“He’s actually nice, Mom,” I said, honestly.

“See!” She clapped her hands together.

Dad sat down, looking more tired than usual, and stared at mother. “You realize Lourde isn’t your pet project.”

She whipped her hand around. “Of course, I know that.”

“Then maybe let her choose what she wants for a change.”

Mom crossed her arms.

“Where has this come from?” she asked, exasperation in her tone.

Ignoring Mom, Dad turned to me. “Lourde, do you really want to work?”

“What?” Mom and I said at the same time, the water tumbler nearly falling from my hand.

“Of course, I do, Dad. I'd just given up asking.”

“No, Lourde. I don't understand it. We women, we don’t work,” Mom argued.

“Liz!” Dad’s tone was harsh, shooting her a steely glance.

“Mom, that’s so old-fashioned and antiquated!” I was unable to stay silent any longer, knowing Dad might be on my side.

“I don’t think it's a bad idea, Lourde.” Dad smiled and threw me a wink.

I heard Mom sigh.

“Are you serious, Dad?”