“You can take it as whatever the fuck you want, but much more of that, and I’ll pull over and fuck you on the back seat.”
“Is that a promise?”
“I’m tempted.” I’m so fucking tempted my pants are pulling across my erection.
“But…?”
“But you’re worth more than that. You’re worth so much fucking more than that, Amelia.”
She watches me intently, and I have to force my foot to remain on the gas pedal before I go back on what I just said, tear her clothes off, and fuck her in the car like a couple of teenagers with nowhere else to go.
“Thank you.”
“I don’t want your thanks.”
“What do you want then?” It’s a genuine question, and it deserves a genuine response.
“You.”
Wandering around the city, Amelia is more interested in the sights than she is in buying warm clothes for the winter. I give up trying to convince her that, as her employer, I have a duty of care to make sure that she doesn’t freeze to death while workingfor me, and we leave the city behind to grab lunch in a traditional Irish pub in the countryside.
We sit in a cozy nook by a crackling fire, in an inn in the middle of nowhere.
We drink Guinness and eat Irish stew followed by Irish cream cheesecake with raspberry coulis. She talks about growing up in New York as the daughter of a strong, fiercely independent woman. I tell her about my grandma who was the only person who could handle my grandpa when he lost his temper.
It’s easy to forget the rest of the world when we’re in this warm, comfortable bubble. I don’t think about the age difference, or the fact that we’ve known each other for less than forty-eight hours, or that she works for me and that we’ll be living in the same house for the foreseeable future.
We relax with each other. And when we leave the inn, Amelia holds my hand as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Do we have to go back now?” she asks.
“Where would you like to go next?”
“The beach?”
“It’s been a long while since I went to the beach.”
“That settles it then. You can’t live somewhere this beautiful and not enjoy all that it has to offer.”
That pretty much sums up how I feel about Amelia. I can’t look at her and not enjoy everything that her beautiful body has to offer, but I keep this to myself.
Perhaps my eyes give me away though, because she adds, “The more secluded the better.”
5
AMELIA
Seclusion isa rarity in the city. Too many people crammed into an area where the buildings have nowhere else to go but up.
Ireland couldn’t be any more different to New York City if it tried. Declan follows the coastal road towards his home, and I don’t see a single person on the beach. Anywhere.
We don’t talk much in the car. We don’t need to. His hand often drifts towards mine, and the touch sends electricity sparking directly to my core.
I could stay in this car with him forever, driving around Ireland, Declan pointing out landmarks, places where he took his sons when they were children, inns that serve the best food, bars that have live music and the best atmosphere on a Saturday night. He’s subtly introducing me to his world. A subconscious invitation to be a part of his life.
At least, that’s what my heart is yelling at me.
He wants you, Amelia… He cares about you… He could’ve fucked you and sent you back on the first flight out of Dublin,denied ever touching you, found a new housekeeper who knows how to operate the Aga, and bakes bread, and prefers women.
