The Mighty Quinns: Rourke (5 page)

The wind howled outside and the old wooden structure creaked with each gust. “I’m going to go up and watch the storm,” she said. Rourke watched as she climbed the stairs. Her skin was flawless, pale, marked only by a light dusting of freckles across her nose. Her auburn hair curled gently around her face and shoulders. And that body. Had no one here ever noticed how beautiful she was?

Everything about her was made for a man’s touch. Most of the women in New York City worked out two hours a day to get a body like Annie’s. She was lithe and fit, not from spending time in a gym, but because she lived a simple life.

She needed so little to be happy—a roof over her head, a warm fire, a good book. And she needed him, at least for the night. He closed his eyes and wondered at the fates that brought him here.

Had he followed his original plan, he’d be back on the mainland by now, headed toward the border and Bangor, Maine. He’d intended to stop there for the night, but now, he’d be spending the night in Annie’s bed.

It felt right. Though they didn’t really know each other in the traditional sense, there was a connection. He felt it every time he touched her...and kissed her. Maybe this had all been part of some cosmic plan—their encounter at the hardware store, the coming storm and the memories that flooded his mind upon seeing her.

He opened his eyes, then crossed the room to the circular stairs. He crawled upward to the top, into the darkness, and when he reached the platform, he found her standing near the window, her hands pressed against the thick glass.

The light was so blinding that he had to squint every time it made a rotation. He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Annie leaned into his body.

“My mother died on a night just like this,” she murmured. “They found her body the next morning, on the rocks.”

“What happened?”

Annie shrugged. “She was sad. Depressed. Suicidal. She’d always been troubled, but my father thought he could fix her. That’s why he brought her here to live. Away from the city. Away from temptation. But she was so miserable here.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“He blamed himself. He used to row out into the cove in the middle of the night. He said he could hear her, he could talk to her. They found his boat right over there,” she said, pointing. “They never found him. We buried an empty coffin next to her in the cemetery.”

Rourke slowly turned her toward him. “You’ve had a lot of loss in your life.”

Annie nodded, reaching up to touch his face. “Make love to me.”

“Here?”

“Anywhere,” she said. “I don’t care. I need to get these thoughts out of my head.”

He took her hand and led her to the top of the stairs. “Let’s go back to the house.”

* * *

T
HEY
RAN
BACK
through the storm, Annie breathless with anticipation and a bit of trepidation. If she were listening to her instincts, this would not be happening. She’d always maintained a careful distance in her physical encounters with men. But the only thing she could think about with Rourke was getting as close to him as possible.

The moment they stepped inside the house, Annie reached for the zipper on her slicker. But he grabbed her hands and warmed them between his, slowly drawing her toward the fire.

She could hear her heart beating, could feel the pulse in her veins. Every physical sensation seemed more acute, and when Rourke slowly began to remove her clothes, she grasped his shoulder, afraid that her knees might buckle beneath her. First her gloves, then her slicker, Rourke tossing both on the floor.

Annie didn’t want to wait any longer. The storm inside her body was raging out of control and the only way to quell it was Rourke’s touch on her naked body. But he would not be deterred. When she reached for the hem of her hoodie, he grabbed her hand. “Slow down,” he said, brushing his lips against hers. “Let me get the fire going.”

“The only place we’ll be warm is in bed,” she said. Annie pulled the hoodie over her head. The cold air prickled her skin into goose bumps and brought her nipples to hard peaks.

Rourke’s breath caught as his gaze drifted down to her naked breasts. “My hands are cold,” he said, his fingers skimming around her waist.

“Put some wood on the fire,” she said. Annie kicked off her wellies, then walked over to the bed. Turning her back to him, she pulled her jeans off. A shiver skittered through her body and she pulled the covers back and slipped between the faded sheets.

Rourke stood over the hearth, his gaze fixed on the crackling fire. Kit had already curled up in front of the hearth, grateful for the warmth.

“Come to bed,” Annie said.

Rourke turned to her and smiled. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She’d never wanted anything more in her life. The ache to have him beside her, inside her, ran deep. She could feel it, and the only way to stop it was mind-numbing passion and unbridled desire.

Annie watched as he slowly undressed in front of her. He didn’t seem to be bothered that she stared, taking in every detail of his beautiful body. She’d been with a number of men, but never with anyone quite so physically perfect. He was slender but muscular, wide shoulders and narrow hips.

His damp hair clung to his neck and he shook his head, sending droplets across the quilt. Annie threw the covers back, a silent invitation.

“Is this how they did it in the olden days?”

“Did what?”

“Kept warm.”

Annie nodded. “You’ll like it. I promise.”

His gaze took in her naked body, moving from shoulder to hip. “I already do.”

Rourke rummaged through his leather duffel and pulled out a box of condoms, unopened. “We may need these,” he said before he crawled in beside her.

She took the box and smiled. “You came prepared?”

“I bought that in New York,” Rourke replied. “It’s been a while.” He laid beside her, finding her hand and drawing it up to his lips. “I’m glad I decided to stay.”

“Me, too. I’m usually alone during these storms. I can never sleep.”

“The wind?”

“The dreams,” she said.

“Then I’ll just have to distract your thoughts and keep you warm.” He chuckled softly. “How to do that?” Slipping his hand beneath the covers, Rourke wrapped his arm around her waist, then pulled her body against his. She felt a flood of desire course through her body and Annie felt the last of her doubts crumble beneath his touch.

“Kiss me,” she murmured, her gaze searching his. “That would be a good start.” Her palm ran along his hip, then back up again. Just that simple teasing touch was enough to cause a groan to slip from his throat.

“I almost turned around,” he whispered.

“Where?”

“Up the hill. Earlier this afternoon. But something was drawing me here and I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to see you, to make sure you were all right.”

“Why?”

Rourke shook his head. “I don’t know. Did you recognize me in the hardware store?”

Annie nodded. “I did. I’d heard someone talking about you at the post office last month and I was hoping I’d see you.”

“Really?”

“I wanted to see the kind of man you’d become. I needed to see that you were still someone kind and good. And you are. You came here to check on me. You pulled me off the rocks.”

He bent close and kissed her. “I think I’m warming up,” Rourke murmured.

Annie smiled. “I think so, too.”

She reached between them and smoothed her fingertips along the length of his rigid shaft. Rourke’s breath caught in his throat and he nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck, his breathing growing quick and shallow. Slowly, Annie began to stroke him in a long, slow rhythm.

When her caress became too much for him to bear, Rourke took control, pinning her hands above her head and rolling on top of her. Their mouths met in a long, lingering kiss. Annie writhed beneath him, his shaft pressed into her belly.

She didn’t want to wait any longer, desperate to feel him moving inside of her. But Rourke was determined to keep her waiting. “Don’t move,” he warned. “Stay still.”

Slowly, he kissed a path from her lips to her neck and then to her shoulder. Inch by inch, he moved lower, pausing at her breasts to tease each nipple with his tongue. Her fingers tangled in his damp hair and she gasped as he drew one nipple taut before doing the same to the other.

When he disappeared beneath the bedcovers, she didn’t stop him and when he found the spot between her legs, she parted her thighs to give him access. She was damp with desire and when he tasted her, her body jerked in response. He teased her, bringing her close, then letting her fall back again. Annie sensed his purpose and she fought against her release, knowing that if she did, they could share their pleasure together.

By the time he relented, Annie was desperate, her body on the edge, her mind spinning with need. Rourke grabbed a condom from the package on the bedside table, fumbling with it. She took it from him and tore the package open. With a gentle touch, she deftly sheathed him.

Though she had waited patiently for this very moment, now that it had arrived, she wasn’t sure she was ready. She wanted him too much, needed him as she’d never needed a man before. And she wasn’t looking for just physical release. She wanted a deeper connection. She wanted to—

Annie bit her bottom lip, trying to banish the thought from her head. But it was there, burned into her brain. She wanted to feel what it might be like to be loved by a man. And not just any man, but by Rourke Quinn. He’d been her hero since she was a girl, her fantasy since she was a teen and now, he’d become her lover.

Annie pressed him back into the pillows and straddled his hips. Rourke smiled, as if enjoying the act of complete surrender. Slowly, deliciously, she sank onto his hard shaft, taking him deep inside her. Annie could tell that just that single thrust had rocked his self-control. He held tight to her hips until he could regain his composure.

But Annie didn’t want to wait any longer. From the moment he’d walked in her front door, she’d known this was how it would be. The attraction was just too much to deny. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, then slowly began to move. She waited for the pleasure, for that slow, steady climb to her release. But it wasn’t there.

Only when she opened her eyes and looked down at him could she find it. Their gazes locked and Annie could see his desire smoldering.

As her pace increased, he drew her into another kiss, then rolled her beneath him, capturing control again. Thrusting slowly and deeply, Annie felt her body respond and she knew he could bring her to the edge just one more time.

And when he did, he didn’t bother to stop. Instead, he joined her in a sweet, intense surrender, driving into her until she dissolved into shudders and spasms of release. His own orgasm seemed to go on forever, and when he was finally spent, he drew back and looked down into her flushed face.

Annie smiled.

“What?” he asked.

“I’ve never had that fantasy before,” she said, a shudder of satisfaction racing through her body.

“Fantasy?” Rourke asked, rolling off her to lie at her side. He pulled her naked body against his, throwing his leg over her thighs.

Annie nodded as she turned to face him, folding her hands beneath her cheek. “After you stood up for me that time with the bullies, you became my imaginary hero. I used to make up these wild stories in my head and you’d always show up at just the right time and save me. You were always part prince, part superhero.”

“I think maybe you saved me,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “Maybe I was supposed to stay on this island tonight.”

“It might still be raining tomorrow,” Annie said.

“Are you asking me to stay another night?”

“Maybe. Just one, that’s all.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Rourke replied.

Considering how well their first night together had gone, Annie was looking forward to more of the same tomorrow night. In truth, she was secretly hoping the storm would last a week. But even then, that might not be enough time to diminish her need for him. Though she wasn’t ready to admit it yet, there was a good chance that her need might never diminish.

3

A
NNIE
SNUGGLED
BENEATH
the covers, drawing the quilt up around her face to warm her cold nose. She reached out to search for the man who’d spent most of the night seducing her but Rourke’s side of the bed was empty.

She pushed up on her elbow and looked around the room, then saw him peering out the window in the kitchen door, staring at the storm. He’d pulled on his jeans, but his upper body and feet were bare. “Is it still raining?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “It looks like everything is covered with ice out there.

Annie crawled out of bed, pulling the quilt around her naked body. She looked out into the morning light. The wind was still blowing and wisps of surf from the shore spun up into the air with each gust. “It’s early for ice,” she murmured. “I wonder if the power is out anywhere.”

“I’ve never been here in early October.” He turned and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Good thing I don’t have to be anywhere today. Except here.”

She shivered. “Come back to bed. It’s too cold to be up.”

“Let me put some wood on the fire,” he said.

She glanced over at the hearth. “There is no more wood.”

“I stacked some on the porch yesterday afternoon,” he said. “I’ll just grab some.”

Annie watched him go outside. A few seconds later, he was back, shaking the cold off his bare feet, his chest shining with droplets of rain. Rourke crossed to the hearth and dumped the wood on the floor, then went out for another load.

After he’d brought in another armful, he threw a few logs on the embers. Annie held out her hand, then pulled him back onto the bed. “I guess we can stay in bed all day now,” she said. “It’s going to take me that long to warm you up.”

“Darling, I guarantee it won’t take you all day.”

Annie laughed, then smoothed her palm down his belly, her fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his jeans. His stomach growled softly and Rourke drew her hips against his. “I think you’re going to need to feed me first,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “I can’t keep up with this pace if I don’t have some nourishment.”

“Crawl under the covers, then,” she said. “I’ll light the stove and make us some eggs.”

“No, you stay in bed and I’ll make breakfast for you.”

He shrugged out of the blanket and wrapped it back around her. But Annie got out of bed and settled herself in the chair near the fire, tucking her feet beneath her.

She observed him silently as he searched out ingredients for breakfast. In the end, he settled on French toast, slicing the bread she’d made yesterday morning and dipping it into the fresh eggs Danny Phalen had dropped off the day before.

When it was ready, he brought it over, along with the butter dish and a tin of maple syrup, and set it on the hearth. He returned to the kitchen to pour two mugs of coffee from the percolator on the stove, then sat down across from her.

“This looks lovely,” she said, taking the plate from him. “No one has ever served me breakfast.”

“Well, I’m happy I was your first.”

“You do manage to make yourself useful,” she added. Annie dug into the French toast, the scent of vanilla making her hungrier than she’d thought she was. “If you wash floors and windows, I might just have to ask you to stay.”

He stopped eating for a moment and met her gaze. “I could stay if you wanted me to.”

Annie felt her face flame with embarrassment. She was just teasing. “I—I— You have better things to do with your time, I’m sure.”

“Actually, I don’t,” he said with a shrug. “I’m currently between jobs. I quit my last job to come up here and handle Buddy’s estate. I thought I might like living on the island, but it wasn’t for me.”

“Can you go back to your old job?” she asked.

Rourke shook his head. “No chance of that. I kind of burned my bridges there.”

“Where did you work?”

“At the company my father founded.”

“Don’t you want to work with your father anymore?”

“He died,” Rourke said. “About eight years ago. I continued on there after he was gone because I didn’t want all his hard work to go to waste. But his partners didn’t share my vision for the company. When Buddy died, I decided I needed a new direction in my life, so I quit.”

“And you came here. But island life doesn’t suit you, does it.”

He drew a deep breath. Now he seemed to be a bit embarrassed. “It’s a pretty lonely existence.”

“Yes, I guess it is.” Annie nodded. “No sex. I know. It is a little tricky. You just have to seize the opportunity when it presents itself.
Carpe sexum.
”

“You could always take Sam up on his offer,” Rourke said, grinning.

“I could. But he and I have a past. And I don’t trust him.” Annie took another bite of her breakfast. “And he lives here. If things went bad, it would be...uncomfortable.”

“We have a past, too,” Rourke said.

Annie swirled a piece of her French toast in a pool of maple syrup, her mind drifting back to that day. “Yes, we do,” she murmured.

“I’m not talking about the bullies,” he said. “I’m talking about last night. We have a past now.”

Drawing a deep breath, she met his gaze. “I suppose now we’re going to have the talk about what it all means.”

To her surprise, Rourke shook his head. “I know what it means to me. That’s enough for now.”

She frowned. His cryptic statement begged for further explanation, but Annie had never been one to delve too deeply into emotional matters. “Good,” she murmured, turning back to her breakfast.

In truth, her emotional connection to him frightened her. She’d been so careful to keep her distance—from men, from the residents on the island, from anyone who might try to carve out a place in her life. It was safer to be alone, with only her own happiness to worry about.

They finished eating in an uncomfortable silence, Annie wondering what was going on inside Rourke’s head. It was clear he’d enjoyed their night together. And that he wanted more of the same. But was he beginning to doubt the wisdom of their decision? If he wasn’t, Annie certainly had her own set of fears and insecurities.

What if she couldn’t just let him walk out of her life? What if tomorrow was like today and all she could think about were reasons to make him stay? When she was with him she felt alive, as if her heart had suddenly begun to beat again and she was aware of every breath she drew. Was this what love felt like?

After so much loss in her life, Annie had hardened herself against such a dangerous emotion. First her mother, then her father, had abandoned her, leaving her to fend for herself, watched over by a grandmother who refused to even acknowledge the existence of her parents.

This was how love began. Even she knew that. With desire and passion, with emotions raging out of control. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be swallowed up, just like her mother and father, so consumed with it that she’d rather die than live without it.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for her coffee mug. Maybe it would be best to send him on his way. As soon as the storm calmed, she’d find some excuse to get him out of the house and back on the road.

“What are you going to do when you get back home?” she asked. “I mean, if you don’t have a job?”

“I don’t know,” Rourke replied. “I suppose I’ll have to look for a new job.”

“What do you do? I mean, for a living?”

“I’m a civil engineer. My father was president of a consulting firm. We help to retrofit buildings to be safer during natural disasters like earthquakes and hurricanes. My dad and I were really close. And he was so proud that I wanted to be a part of the business he started.”

“What about your mom?”

Rourke shrugged. “She took the money from my father’s life insurance and found herself a new husband. She was quite a bit younger than he was. Actually, she was his secretary before she was his wife.” He reached out and took her plate, then wandered back to the kitchen. “We see each other at Christmas and we usually go out to dinner on my birthday, but she’s really more interested in her new husband than me. Trying to keep him happy, I guess.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your father. And I was sad when I heard Buddy had died. He was a nice man. He was always kind to me. Whenever he saw me on my bike, he’d pull over and insist on giving me a ride. He’d toss my bike in the back of that old red pickup and off we’d go. I used to ride over to his house during the summer and I’d help him weed his garden. He grew the best tomatoes. We’d sit on his porch and eat them, warm from the sun.”

Rourke sat down on the hearth, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I didn’t know that.”

Annie nodded. “We were both kind of lonely, I guess.”

“I should have come to see him more often,” he said, shaking his head. “I just figured he’d live forever, he was such a tough old guy.”

She reached out and pressed her hand to his cheek. “I saw you at the funeral,” Annie murmured.

“You were there?”

“Yeah. I watched from the woods.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. There were always explanations and justifications for her odd behavior. But with Rourke, she felt as if, with every question, he was peeling away a layer of protection, searching for the soft center inside of her. “It’s complicated,” she said.

“Tell me.”

“Well, I wanted to grieve privately,” she began. “I don’t like showing my emotions in front of people, especially the people on this island. And most of the folks in town would be watching me for a reaction, wondering if I was suddenly going to start screaming and pulling my hair out.”

“They don’t think that,” Rourke said.

“Don’t kid yourself,” Annie countered. “They think I’m like my mother, that I take after her side of the family. They remember how she was— irrational, emotional.”

“You know what? I think you like it that way. I think you like keeping them at a distance, letting them think you’re just a little bit crazy. That way you don’t have the responsibility of friendship or the chance at love.”

“I have friends,” she said.

“But only friends who maintain their distance. I’d call them acquaintances.”

Annie pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “Maybe that’s true. That’s just the way I am. I don’t need friends.”

In truth, Annie had wondered if they might be right. Would she turn out like her mother? Would she suddenly snap and retreat into a world of her own, a world filled with fears and paranoia one day and giddy euphoria the next? A world where she couldn’t distinguish reality from fantasy?

“Everyone needs friends,” Rourke said. “You do. I think you’d like to have people smile at you when you walk into the hardware store, or wave at you from across the street.”

Annie stood up, wrapping the quilt more tightly around her naked body. “Can we stop with the psychoanalysis, Dr. Freud?” She snatched her coffee mug from the hearth and walked over to the sink. “Just because you made me breakfast doesn’t mean you can tell me how to live my life.”

Rourke followed her to the kitchen, slipping his arms around her waist and slowly turning her to face him. He took the edges of the quilt between his fingers and slowly parted the faded patchwork, revealing her body beneath.

Annie shivered as the quilt dropped onto the plank floor. Slowly, he drew his hands over her naked body, smoothing the gentle curve of her shoulders and the length of her arms, then moving up from her waist to her breasts. Her breath caught when he teased at her nipples with his thumbs, the cold and his caress drawing them to a hard peak.

“Do you want me to leave?” he whispered, his head dipping lower to steal a quick kiss. “I’ll leave, just say the word.”

His hand slipped from her breast and, palm flat, skimmed down her stomach to the spot between her legs. He teased her there, with a gentle flick of his fingers, and Annie closed her eyes at the wave of sensation that raced through her. With every other man, she’d been able to maintain her self-control. Why was Rourke Quinn different? Why did her body seem to crave his touch?

“Say the word,” he repeated, his fingers gently rubbing between the soft folds of her sex.

“No,” she gasped, leaning against him as a wave of pleasure washed over her. “Don’t leave.”

* * *

T
HE
STORM
CONTINUED
through the day, the rain battering the cottage and the wind whistling through the shutters. They stayed in bed, taking the time to test the boundaries of their desire for each other.

Rourke was surprised at how uninhibited Annie was when it came to sex. Though she refused to surrender to emotion, she didn’t have any problem surrendering to passion. Most women couldn’t tell the two apart, but Annie had a firm grasp on that. Unfortunately, he was finding the task a bit more difficult than usual.

It was hard not to feel something for her. She had an empty spot deep inside her heart and he just wanted to fill it with good feelings, with happiness and contentment, with optimism. She deserved at least that much after such a difficult childhood. But who was he to swoop in and try to change her life with just a few nights in bed?

Her naked body was curled up against his, her fingers splayed on his chest. He turned his face into her silky hair and drew a deep breath. She smelled of lavender soap and wood smoke.

Rourke closed his eyes. There was no reason he couldn’t stay a little longer. He had a place to live until he decided what to do with his uncle’s cottage and he wasn’t anxious to get back to New York. He’d sublet his apartment until after the holidays and had planned to camp out on a friend’s sofa until he’d decided what to do next. Why not do his deciding here?

Annie stirred beside him and her hand slipped beneath the quilt, resting on his belly. “Are you awake?” she whispered.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I thought so. I could hear the wheels turning in your head.” She pushed up on her elbow and looked down at him, her expression sleepy and satisfied. “You think too much.”

Rourke reached out and tucked her tumbled hair behind her ear. “Yeah, well, I guess that’s the way I’m wired. Am I supposed to not care about you?”