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Elle
DECLAN HAD BEEN WATCHING her. Was his intensity curiosity or something more? The attention thrilled her, making her feel attractive and confident.
When he took Cody to his room for the night, she heard Declan’s low, rhythmic voice reading to the boy. Cody’s laugh echoed down the hall, and she smiled. Curling up on the sofa, she rested with the glass of wine she’d been sipping.
When Declan returned, she watched him approach the sofa. He settled onto the end facing her, not crowding her but watching with that warm intensity.
She touched her pendant as nervous excitement danced over her skin. “He’s asleep?”
“Didn’t make it to the end of the story.”
“He’s darling.”
“Cody’s full of life. One of his favorite things is pretending to be a pirate superhero. He’s got us all wrapped.”
“I don’t know. You handle him well, with love and discipline.”
His eyebrows rose. “Thanks.”
She cleared her throat and shifted on the sofa.
His gaze flicked down to her pendant. “I’ve got to know. Is that a nervous habit, or does the pendant mean something?”
“Oh.” She forced herself to release it and clutched a throw pillow to her stomach instead. “My mother gave it to me for graduation.”
“High school or college?”
“High school. She got sick and died a few months later.”
“Oh, Elle. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, don’t worry. I miss her every day, but the pendant is a good memory. It makes me feel close to her.”
“That must’ve been a hard time in your life to lose her.”
“It was.” Her mind took her back in a flash. She’d been left with her father and sister, and her dreams had changed. “She understood me. I know a lot of teen girls fight with their moms, but mine was fun and understanding. She was my friend and my support.”
“I remember my sister Shannon with my mom.” He shook his head with a wry grin. “There were days all us guys stayed clear.”
She tried to laugh, but returning memories made it difficult. “I think she knew she was sick, knew something was wrong for some time. For months she asked about my dreams, my goals, how I saw myself.”
Declan became still and quiet and gazed at her as if he could see into her thoughts. When he spoke, his voice was low, soothing. “What were Elle’s teenage dreams?”
“Oh, you know. I wanted to go to college for something irresponsible and marry my high school boyfriend.”
“But you didn’t?”
“Life seldom turns out how we expect. Sometimes for the better.” A lightness filled her chest as she looked at him. “I didn’t expect to be here tonight, but I’m glad I am.”
A smile, wide and bright, flashed across his face. “You’ve made this rainy night an adventure. It’s been a pleasure, Elle.”
Warmth of contentment and belonging radiated through her chest. “Thank you. For everything.”
They stared across the space at each other, and she could’ve melted in the heat of his gaze. Declan stood and approached, making her heart speed in her chest.
Holding a hand toward her, he said, “Come, I’ll show you my studio.”
She slipped her hand into his and rose to follow him up the spiral stair to the loft. The feel of his skin against hers, the warmth of his hand, sent tingles over her. He let her go at the top of the stairs and flipped a switch to light the room.
She gasped. “Oh, fantastic.” The walls were covered in a myriad of colorful paintings.
He leaned against the wall and watched as she moved to stare at each hung piece of artwork. The bold, blazing works spoke of passion and hunger and zest. She felt his gaze on her. A warmth of a different kind hummed through her.
Stepping back, she caught the illusion of landscapes taking shape on some pieces. “How do you make slashes of color look like trees, hills, homes?” Her awe vibrated through her voice.
He smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”
“I love them.” She circled the room and came to a stop in front of him. “Is this how you make your living?”
“Some. I work for my family company as well.” He gestured toward the desk covered with files and sticky notes clinging to a whiteboard. “We have a shipping, courier, moving company. I do what I can from here and go into the office a couple days a week. I support and supervise the marketing department, mostly.”
She traced her hand over the edge of the desk, facing away from Declan. “Your family company is in Olde Towne?”
“The office headquarters is in a waterfront historic building that we’ve owned from the beginning. The shipping center, warehouse, and garages are in the warehouse district outside of downtown.”
Glancing up at him, she caught the pride on his face. “You’re fortunate to have that in your life.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have family you love. You support each other. You have a good history. That’s rare, I think, in successful business families.” It certainly wasn’t what she had.
Moving toward him, she watched his eyes widen and flick over her. “We’ve been blessed with a long line of quality O’Hanrahan men and women who bring out the best in them. It’s made the business strong.” Desire heated his expression, making her thrill with a rush of some new emotion.
His fitted shirt molded to his body, revealing every curve of muscle, the hard plane of his stomach, the dips and rises of his shoulders and biceps. To look at him was delicious. But to feel him... Elle eased closer with unfamiliar confidence. “And you, Declan O’Hanrahan, what are you looking for in your woman?”
“Kindness. Intellect. Honesty and depth.” His eyes darkened as they traveled over her face. “Warmth...passion.”
She touched her fingertips to his shoulder and traced its width to the curve of his arm. His breath hitched with her caress, filling her with a heady sense of power. “You haven’t found her? You’ve never married?” Her gaze settled on his mouth.
He moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Not yet. Have you ever married?”
“No.” Timothy’s face and his words flashed in her mind, chilling her. All the confidence withered.
She stepped back, turned to the room. Behind her, Declan took a breath.
He moved across the room to sit on a loveseat. “You said you wanted a change. Are you relocating for a new job? Isn’t that what you said in the airport?”
“Yes.” She threw him a smile and hoped he wouldn’t see the nerves behind it. “Tell me. Your family is Irish. How does that fit in with your life and business?”
“We’re rebranding using our family’s coat of arms, but we’re not any more Irish than most Americans today.”
“No O’Hanrahan legends from the old country?”
He tilted his head and watched as she shifted around the room, looking at his art supplies and the work-in-progress he had situated near the skylights and windows. Would he let her watch him work? She would like to see his hands moving over the canvas.
“None specifically. There are several branches of O’Hanrahans. I can’t speak for all the families.”
She slipped onto the loveseat beside him. “So, tell me an Irish story. An Irish legend.”
“Most are dark, sad, or supernatural.”
“Hmm.” She crossed her legs and sensed him stiffen beside her. She bit her lip to hide a smile. “Tell me a sweet legend about love.”
He chuckled. “Even Irish ballads and love stories are sad. I can think of a couple you might enjoy. Have you heard of the Claddagh ring?”
Shifting, she turned to face him. “Nope. I’m an Irish novice.”
“The story goes, a man called Richard Joyce was captured by pirates. Joyce had faith he would find a way to escape and return to his true love. He was enslaved for years, but he never stopped thinking of his true love, and he never gave up hope. Each day he thought of her and every night she filled his dreams.” She watched him as he spoke, the way his lips moved and the way the light reflected in his eyes. “For all those years Joyce collected flecks of gold from his captor. He used the gold to fashion a ring with two hands holding a crowned heart. Finally, the day arrived when he managed to escape. When he returned to his home and his true love, he found her waiting faithfully for him.”
“What a truly romantic story.” She sighed and let her head fall back against the loveseat. “It has everything: love, adventure, danger.”
Declan smiled as he studied her expression. “Joyce presented her with the ring as a symbol of his love and devotion. To this day the Claddagh ring means friendship, love, loyalty...” His words drifted off, but he didn’t take his eyes off her. She felt like she could drown in their warmth.
“Two people devoted, determined to find each other again, full of faith in their love. Everyone should have love like that. It’s beautiful.”
He shifted closer as his gaze moved over her face, settled on her mouth. He murmured, “so beautiful.” Her heart thudded. Would he kiss her? She wanted to feel his kiss. Closing her eyes, she lifted her chin. His warm breath brushed her cheek. “I’m glad you enjoyed the legend.”
Her eyes popped open. He had moved away to his side of the loveseat. Embarrassment flushed her skin. Of course he didn’t want to kiss her. “Hmm,” she said, fighting her humiliation. Tears stung her eyes.
“Elle?” He sounded unsure, concerned.
She stood and headed for the stairs. “I’m tired. Thank you again, for all your help.”
“Goodnight.”
Forcing her eyes to meet his, she tossed him a wobbly smile. “Goodnight.”
A crackling boom of thunder woke Elle with a jolt. Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around her knees and looked out the window. The swaying treetops lit with lightning. Rain pounded the metal roof and rushed down the window glass. The storm had worsened.
Anxiety clenched her stomach. She needed to get to her new apartment. She had a job and a moving van to meet.
Slipping from bed, she sneaked down the hall to stand in front of the wall of windows. The power of the storm thrilled her. Lightning streaked through the clouds, lighting them with flashes of plum and pink. She grinned as she pressed her face to the glass, stared up at the dance of nature.
“Are you frightened?”
Declan’s voice startled her, and she whirled. He stood in the entrance from the hall, but she couldn’t see his face in the gloom.
“I love storms.”
He entered the kitchen and took two battery-powered lanterns down from a top cabinet. “The power’s out.”
“You don’t have a generator?”
“I do, but where’s the fun in that?”
He set one lantern on the kitchen counter and the other on the living room trunk. Then he turned toward her.
She kept still by the windows as he studied her. His fingers twitched at his side, like a gunslinger in an old western preparing to pull his gun.
“I’m hungry,” he said. “Do you want anything?”
“Water, thanks.”
He walked from the room and stuck his head in the fridge. “I’m like a bear.” He pulled out a block of cheese and set it on a cutting board.
She smiled. “How?”
“I’m a forager.” He rubbed his belly. “Always on the prowl for my next meal.”
“You must have an amazing metabolism. You look good for someone who eats like a bear.”
His head came up to look at her, and she was glad she stood across the room. She turned back to watch the storm.
A warm touch at her elbow brought her attention back to Declan. He held a glass of water toward her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He stood next to her, quiet and still. “So, you like storms.”
“Always have. The raw energy and power. The thrill of thunder.”
“Hmm.” He tilted his head as he looked at her.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you always study people like that?”
“I’m sorry.” His mouth tugged with a grin. “I don’t mean to. You’re interesting.”
A chuckle escaped her. “Me?”
“Why not you?”
“You’re doing it again.”
He laughed and sat in a leather club chair near the fireplace. Swiveling it toward the windows, he watched the lightning.
She didn’t think he would speak, so his voice surprised her. “I see people, scenes, beauty, and I yearn to sketch what I see.”
Touching her pendant, she faced him. “You want to sketch me?”
“Ever since I first saw you, standing in line wearing pajamas, looking lost and scared in the middle of bright lights and a crowd of people. You stood out as a flash of color, life, in a sea of ordinary.”
“You’re a poet, Declan.”
He laughed. “I say what I see.”
“I’m flattered,” she whispered.
“Would you mind?”
Surprise made her hiss a breath. “Right now?”
He watched her, waited.
“Ok.”
Declan reached across to an end table and pulled a sketchpad from the drawer.
She cleared her throat, stiffened. “What should I do?”
“You’re perfect just as you are.”
His hand flew across the page in the light from the lantern. His eyes flicked over her, paused to study her a moment, before returning to the page. She knew the moment he lost himself in the art. His entire body pulsed with energy. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
When he finished, he sat back and held the pad toward her. A serious expression covered his face, the most serious she’d seen him. Her hand trembled with uncertainty as she took it. How did Declan see her?
He had sketched her hair, a tumble of waves tousled from sleep, a bit wild and messy, covering her back and shoulders. She touched it, embarrassed. Her legs looked sleek, with light and dark shadows highlighting her calves and muscles of her thighs. Goodness. The low light cast shadows along her profile, hinting at her high cheekbones and jawline, slightly parted lips. Her fingertips traced across her cheekbones, unable to believe the face in the sketch belonged to her. Declan had captured the darkness of the treetops and the rolling, low clouds revealed by the flashes of light. Lighter shadowing suggested the spark of lightning. More than beauty, Declan captured a feeling, an essence of belonging, of connection. She looked... elemental, somehow, as if she were part of the cabin and the storm, part of the air.
“This is how you see me?” He’d made her beautiful, even alluring. Looking at the page, tears burned her eyes.
“Do you like it?” His voice thrummed with vulnerability.
She glanced up, met his gaze. “It’s wonderful. I’m touched. Truly.”
“You’re easy to capture.”
Emotion welled in her chest, choked her. “Declan. I-I...”
He stood and approached her, took her arms. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No. I’m...I can’t believe you see me like this.”
“What do you mean? What is it you see?”
“Comfort, warmth.” She couldn’t say he made her sultry, soft and strong, light and dark. “I see someone I’m not.”
“I don’t understand.” He rubbed her arms.
She smothered the emotion, cooled her voice. “Thank you for the picture. You have a true gift.”
“Elle?”
She tilted her face up to his. “Declan.”
His gaze flicked to her mouth, and his hands flexed on her arms. Clearing his throat, he stepped back from her.
“The storm is worse.” He lifted an electronic tablet from a bookshelf. “I’ll check the weather, but I suspect we’ll be here another night.”
She swallowed a groan. Her heart felt torn. This time with Declan created a memory she knew she’d treasure. But it remained a temporary blip before she returned to her true self. He wouldn’t find her interesting anymore or pretty or soft. She had to remember and balance her freedom with her future. This man pulled at her, affected her emotions, and it wouldn’t do to fall for someone she couldn’t have.
Declan
Elle was keeping something from him. He sensed it when he asked about her job and her move. She always changed the subject, focused on him.
He wanted to know more. He wanted to know everything. This blasted storm! As much as he enjoyed the closeness the storm forced, he wanted to move forward. He had to wait until he got her home. If Elle felt the same, he needed to know it wasn’t gratitude or the situation.
The weather should clear the next afternoon. The map swirled with dark green and yellow, but the forecast suggested a drying out by noon. Still, the streets of Olde Towne wouldn’t open until the next morning after the water had time to drain. He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Is it bad?” she asked.
“It’s forecasted to clear tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? Are you worried about flooding in your offices?”
“No.” He sat back and looked up at her, once again captured by her beauty against the backdrop of the window. “The buildings don’t flood, but the streets fill. The city officials always close the streets to avoid having tourists on the roads.”
A grin flicked over her mouth. “It wouldn’t do to have tourists floating into the harbor.”
He chuckled. “Exactly.”
“How long do you think before the streets clear?”
“The officials won’t open them until Wednesday. We’ll be here another night.”
He watched closely for her reaction. She swallowed and looked away from him. Elle didn’t want to be here another night. Pain clenched his chest, the strength of his emotion surprising him. He’d been right to keep his distance.
When her arms crossed over her chest, and she hugged herself, he realized she felt anxious.
“Are you worried about something?” he asked.
Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “I’m supposed to meet the moving van tomorrow at my new apartment. I thought I’d have time to settle before my first day at work Wednesday. I’ll have to delay the van and notify my new boss I’ll be late. Great first impression.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand. Everyone in Olde Towne knows how it goes.”
“Hopefully.” She shook herself and shot a bright smile at him.
Moving to the couch, she curled up and faced him. Fascination gripped him. Just like that, she let it go.
“Declan O’Hanrahan. Tell me what you do besides paint and work in marketing.”
He grinned. “I kayak on the lake. I travel.”
“Where do you travel?”
“For work, I travel occasionally to our four branches. For fun, I go all kinds of places. I’ve been out West several times. I’ve driven down the Oregon and California coast. I’ve explored the jewel cities of the South.”
“What about outside the country?”
“I’ve been to Paris and London. There’re so many places right here, I’ve not taken the time to go much farther. We’ve taken family trips to Ireland.”
“I’ve been outside of Paris. Honestly, I’m not impressed with the city. It has its places, but the countryside is lovely.”
“I can see that. What about you? What does Elle do when she’s not getting mugged in airports or watching storms?”
He didn’t miss her slight stiffening, and her gaze dropped from his. She did it again, hid something. He didn’t even know her last name.
“I don’t do much outside of work. College and my career have been my focus.”
“What about the Elle dreaming of marrying her high school boyfriend? What did she enjoy?”
Her eyes flew to his face and widened. His question surprised her and scored a hit. “I-I don’t know.” She looked down, and he saw her thinking in the wrinkle of her brow. “I liked to read and watch movies. I liked hiking, nature.”
“Where did you hike?”
“There was a state park near our home. I hiked often with my mom, my friends. We’d camp some weekends and canoe on the lake.”
He sensed a kindred heart in Elle. Maybe life had crowded out her hobbies, but they had a lot in common. “Your dad and sister didn’t join you?”
Her smile was sad. “No. My father was a career man. I hardly saw him. My sister was into hair and clothes and shopping.”
Memories of his childhood flashed through his mind. They’d been wild. He and his siblings had spent the summer in the woods or in the pool. His parents had been busy, but they’d made time for family outings and adventures.
“So, after your mom died, you pleased your father. You focused on college and career.”
Her eyes shimmered with tears, and he kicked himself. “He was all I had. He’s a good man.”
“I’m sure.”
She made a disgusted sound in her throat and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Standing, she forced a tremulous smile. “Goodnight again.”
“See you in the morning.”
“Yes.”
He watched her run, disappear into the dark hallway, and sighed. Way to go, Declan, he thought. Making the pretty girl cry is a sure way to her heart.
Sleep eluded him, so he picked up the sketch pad and made his way to the studio. He might as well do something productive, and the image of her would haunt his thoughts until he purged it.