The Pleasures of Autumn (38 page)

‘Niall, Niall,’ she gasped, not able to form any other words.

She had no idea where he stopped and she began, who
was moving, which of them was groaning. It didn’t matter.

Now his hips were moving powerfully, driving her higher and higher. She fought to get breath, and expelled each one in a scream. The tension inside her tightened harder and harder, until she began to fear she would not survive what he was doing. But she would have killed him if he had stopped.

‘Sinead, I love you,’ he gasped, then surged into her in a last series of thrusts. Knowing that she had broken his control was all it took to push her over the edge. With a wail, she fell apart, her body convulsing around his in spasms of pleasure so intense she could not contain them.

When she recovered, he was holding her tightly. ‘Never forget how much I love you,’ he said, and kissed her, a tender kiss that told her everything she needed to know.

She snuggled into him and yawned. ‘I have a terrible memory. I expect you’ll have to remind me several times a day for the next fifty years.’

He laughed. ‘Deal.’ Then he tucked her against his body and settled down to sleep.

‘I’ve never spanked anyone at a wedding,’ Niall said thoughtfully.

‘And you won’t be starting now.’

Sinead cursed as she tried to fasten the tiny clasp on her necklace.

‘Here, let me do that.’ Niall took the platinum chain from her and deftly fastened the ends together.

Sinead gave him a sly grin in the mirror. ‘You’re still not spanking me. Come on, the others will be waiting.’ She headed for the door.

‘Ahem, haven’t you forgotten something?’

Hearing the laughter in his voice, Sinead pivoted on her high heels and returned to where he was waiting. Cupping his face in her hands, she brushed her mouth lovingly against his.

Despite the hectic months of Lottie’s last revue, she had never been so happy. After the wedding, they would finally set up home together instead of snatching weekends in hotels or overnights when Niall came to Las Vegas on business.

Niall’s broad hands grasped her waist and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. His tongue plundered her mouth, and she gave herself up to his passionate embrace. It was easier than fighting him. She would save that for later.

In forty-eight hours’ time, they would be sailing in the azure seas off the coast of St Martin. There would be nothing to do but laze around, eat and swim in the crystal Caribbean waters. She couldn’t wait.

The telephone beside the bed rang and Niall reached for it. Sinead saw the number on the display and snatched it from his hand before he could answer. She put her finger to her lips, warning him to be quiet. Granny O’Sullivan was horribly old-fashioned. If she even suspected that they had spent the night together before their wedding, she would have a fit. As it was, they had booked adjoining rooms, one of which hadn’t been used.

‘Yes, Gran? Okay. I’ll be there in two minutes.’ She put the phone down and glared at Niall. ‘She wants to see me.’

Niall laughed. ‘She probably wants to give you a few tips about your wedding night.’

‘Oh you …’ She raised her hand threateningly and he ducked out of the way. ‘I’ll be back in five minutes. Make sure you’re ready.’

Sinead hurried down the corridor to her grandmother’s suite. Her uncle had spared no expense to ensure his mother’s comforts on her first transatlantic trip. It was just a pity he hadn’t arrived yet. Tim O’Sullivan was in the middle of acquiring another airline. If he didn’t make it on time for the wedding, she would have no one to give her away.

She knocked on the door and her grandmother answered, resplendent in pale mauve silk. She was a small woman who radiated energy and authority. No one argued with Granny O’Sullivan.

‘Come in, pet. I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to give you a little something.’

From a folded envelope, she produced a silver St Christopher medal on a piece of faded blue ribbon. ‘I wanted you to have this for your something blue.’

Sinead didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was wearing a blue garter beneath her Forties-style ivory dress, or that Niall had insisted on putting it on her thigh earlier.

‘It belonged to my own grandmother. I had hoped to pass it on to your mother, but …’ Her voice shook. She pressed the medal into Sinead’s hand and closed her fingers around it. ‘My grandmother was working as a nurse in Cobh when the
Lusitania
sank. One of the passengers she looked after gave it to her as a remembrance.’

‘Thanks, Gran. I’d be honoured to wear it.’

‘You do that. They say that St Christopher looks after travellers. You’ve done a lot of travelling already and you’ll probably be doing more with that dancing lark.’

Sinead’s eyes filled with tears. Her grandmother was right. She had come a long way, from an encampment in Mayo to the bright lights of London, Paris and Las Vegas. ‘Lottie is retiring,’ she said.

‘Is she now?’ Her grandmother’s eyes twinkled. ‘We’ll see. Now, dry your eyes and go fetch that chap of yours before we’re late.’

Sinead was about to open the door and then stopped. How did Granny O’Sullivan know that Niall hadn’t left for the church already? A soft laugh came from behind her and she turned.

‘Your grandfather was a passionate man too,’ her grandmother said with a smile.

Fighting the blush rising in her cheeks, Sinead fled from the room. Her cousin Summer was right. Granny O’Sullivan was a witch.

Sinead hurried back to the room and found that Niall was tapping away on his laptop. ‘Five minutes,’ he said. ‘I have to get this done before we go.’

Sinead tapped her foot impatiently. They would be the last to arrive at the church. ‘Mr Moore, I do believe we have a date at noon. You remember? Church, priest, wedding rings?’

Niall patted the pocket of his jacket. ‘Everything is under control. Trust me.’

‘That’s what you said when you found my sister. And she’s gone AWOL again.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll put Andy on it. He’ll track her down.’

It was the one shadow on a beautiful day. She had so wanted her sister to be at the wedding, but Roisin had gone to ground – last seen somewhere in Ireland. She didn’t like to think of her being without protection with Hall still on the loose.

‘Stop frowning. You’ll ruin the photographs,’ Niall said.

‘Feck off. Come on, hurry up.’

They arrived with minutes to spare at the white-painted Pilar Basilica, one of the oldest and loveliest churches in Buenos Aires. Outside the portico, a kilted Scotsman paced, drawing curious glances from passers-by. He tapped the face of his watch as they raced through the gates.

‘What time do you call this? Everyone else is inside, except Summer and Tim. She had to dash to the airport to pick him up,’ Flynn said, exasperated. ‘They’ll be here any minute.’

Niall dropped a quick kiss on Sinead’s mouth. ‘I’ll see you inside. Don’t keep me waiting.’

As the first strains of music drifted through the open doorway of the church, Sinead lifted the bridal bouquet to her face, inhaling the sweet scent of the exotic blooms. She couldn’t believe that this day had come, that she was actually here. She tied the medal her grandmother had given her around the stem of the bouquet, then glanced at her watch. It was almost time for the ceremony to begin.

A red sports car circled the garden in front of the church and screeched to a stop at the doorway. Sinead smiled. Thank god. She thought she’d be on her own walking up the aisle. A beaming Tim O’Sullivan climbed from the rear of the car and gave her an enthusiastic hug, but took care not to crush her dress.

Her cousin Summer got out of the driving seat. Her mop of chocolate-brown waves had been tamed into an elegant up-style and the simple bridesmaid’s dress had probably cost a fortune. ‘Sorry Sinead, we had to race from the airport. Dad’s flight was late.’

Tim O’Sullivan snorted. ‘It wouldn’t have happened if it was one of my planes.’ He glared at his daughter. ‘They have speed limits here, you know.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’m so glad you’re both here.’ Sinead handed over the bridesmaid’s bouquet. ‘Flynn’s like a scalded cat. You’d think it was his wedding, the way he’s carrying on. We better go in and put him out of his misery.’

‘Niall’s misery is only starting,’ Tim chuckled.

Two pairs of blue eyes glared at him.

‘Can a man not crack a joke? What’s wrong with women these days?’

Summer laughed and shook her head. She straightened his bow tie and checked him over. ‘Come on, Dad. You’ve got a niece to give away.’

Just before they went in, Sinead fingered the ring on the third finger of her left hand – a platinum band set with a dark blue sapphire. She slipped it off and handed it to Summer. ‘Don’t you dare lose it.’

The Viking had surprised her last night with an engagement gift to match the earrings he had bought for her in Paris. He had also been thinking of something blue. Sinead smiled. How well he knew her.

The simple ceremony was probably costing him a fortune, but his sister Alison had been posted to Buenos Aires and her only cousin lived here too, so it had been the logical place to hold the wedding.

Sinead tucked her hand through her uncle’s arm and they began the slow walk up the aisle. Sinead concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, smiling when she reached the guests occupying the pews at the front of the church. Her uncle patted her hand and passed it to Niall. ‘Mind you take good care of her.’

Niall nodded and Sinead tried not to laugh at the hint of a threat in Tim O’Sullivan’s words. He was more of a father to her than her own had ever been. He had raised her, educated her and, in his own way, loved her almost as much as he loved his own daughter.

Niall squeezed her hand and mouthed, ‘I love you.’

No matter how many times he told her, his words always made her catch her breath. Niall loved and accepted
all of her. Both Lottie and Sinead. She didn’t need to hear him vow to love, honour and protect her for the rest of his life. She knew the big Viking always would.

Sinead blinked away a tear. It didn’t matter that her father was in prison or that her sister was on the run. None of that was important now. For years she had searched for her missing family, but her real family had been here all along – Tim, Summer, Granny O’Sullivan, and now Niall.

Her family. The only ones she would ever need.

Thanks to:

Our beloved families, who put up with our absence, without complaining too much.

Cover artist for the Touch novellas, Claire Chilton.

Our agent, Madeleine Milburn.

Our editors Patricia Deevy and Davina Russell, the wonderful staff at Penguin, and online publicist Catherine Ryan Howard.

Website designer and IT support, Seoirse MacGabhann.

John Colgan, for information on weapons and all things military.

Our FL friends, for kinky inspiration – particularly Apulia, Elftitch, JackC, Jeneie, JMagee, MCat, QueenHoneyBee, Suarach, Tenjiku and Zytex.

Our beta readers, Mary, Silje and Claire.

The Corner Table Writers’ Group.

Patricia O’Reilly of UCD.

Caroline’s baby sister Elizabeth McCall and her husband, Michel Guinand, for all things Parisian.

For assistance with the Swiss legal system, journalist Clare O’Dea.

Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London
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First published 2013

Copyright © Eileen Gormley and Caroline McCall, 2013

Cover photograph © broukoid/Shutterstock

All rights reserved

The moral right of the author has been asserted

Typeset by Palimpsest Book Production Ltd, Falkirk, Stirlingshire

ISBN: 978-0-241-96667-9