“I should never have let him go to New York. I should’ve insisted on handling our business myself.”
There’s panic in her eyes when she looks at me again. “You might’ve been killed.”
“Better me than my son. He had his whole life ahead of him.”
“Declan,” she whispers. “You can’t blame yourself. If you’d tried to stop him, he would only have resented you for it.”
My lips brush hers. I want to kiss her long and hard. I want to lay her down on the grass and fuck her right here by the lake, but I won’t pressure her. I want her to know that this is about far more than sex. For me anyway. I want her trust. I want her heart, and I know that I need to earn these things.
“You’re very kind, Amelia York, do you know that?”
She sucks on her top lip like she’s about to tell me something that will change my mind. Then she releases a breath and kisses me back. “I just don’t think that you should spend the rest of your life blaming yourself. There comes a point when you have to set your children free.”
“Is that what your mom did, set you free?”
“I didn’t give her a choice.” She chuckles, and I feel the tension between us visibly evaporating, one tiny speck at a time. “My roots are here. Stopping me would’ve only delayed the inevitable.”
I’d forgotten about Michael Morran. Now, the fear seeps back through my skin, reminding me that Amelia still needs protection from her own flesh and blood.
“How did you get so wise?”
“I learned from the best.”
I seem to recall saying the same thing to Ruairi the last time I spoke to him.
That evening, we curl up underneath a cozy blanket by the log burner in the living room. Orla retired to her room after dinner. Eoghan hasn’t been home since the funeral.
A movie plays on the TV that neither of us watches. We open a bottle of wine. The conversation is easy—friends, family, the approaching holidays, and Thanksgiving celebrations in New York, which Amelia will miss this year. And when we go upstairs, I take her hand and lead her towards my room.
“Are you sure, Declan?” Her cheeks are flushed from the flames.
She doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t avert her eyes, or glance along the landing towards Orla’s room. She’s simply checking that I’m ready for this.
“Surer than I’ve ever been.”
Her smile is the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen. I cup her face in both hands outside the door to my room and kiss her. She leans in, reaching up and wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I want this too,” she whispers.
I scoop her into my arms and carry her over the threshold. Inside my room, with the door closed, adrenaline pumps through my veins. It feels like the first time all over again, but calmer. Less frantic, more right.
I set her down on my bed and undress her slowly. Her body is even more beautiful than I remember. When we’re both naked, and she’s lying on my bed with her arms touching the headboard, and her legs open, I kiss her all over.
Starting with her lips, I work my way down, nibbling her earlobes and her neck where the bite mark has completely faded. I feel the same explosion of lust in my loins, my erection is rock-solid between my legs, but I’m more in control now that I know what I want from this.
What I want from Amelia.
Which is everything.
I want all that she has to offer, but I want to give her everything in return.
I pay special attention to her nipples, licking them gently to begin with, then gradually sucking them into hard pink points. Amelia squirms, thrusting her nipples into my mouth and arching her back.
“Tell me how it feels, Amelia.”
I watch her watching me. I could never get bored with seeing everything she feels dancing across her face.
“Like I missed this.” She licks her lips. “More than I realized.”
