Keir O'connell's Mistress. Sandra MartonЧитать онлайн книгу.
But what bonded them together would never change. Shared memories and shared blood would always unite and sustain them, just as it had when they were growing up. Being the sons of Ruarch O’Connell had not been easy, despite the duchess’s misty-eyed memories.
He felt a catch in his throat. He’d missed his brothers. Missed this. The teasing, the laughter, the knowledge that nobody in the world knew him the way they did.
“All right.” He nodded, sighed, offered all the signs of peaceful surrender. “You guys want details, you’ll get them. Just come in a little closer…”
He moved fast, as if they were all still kids and these were the old times, when they’d played their own version of touch football whenever they’d been in one place long enough to find a flat field. He took Sean out first, his shoulder connecting with Sean’s flat belly and then he spun and got Cullen before he could sidestep. Both of them yelped and fell backward into the pool hard enough to raise a geyser of water that rivaled Old Faithful.
A spill of feminine laughter erupted behind Keir. He swung around and saw his three sisters standing next to one of the softly-lighted palm trees that ringed the pool.
“Hey.” He grinned. Briana, Fallon and Megan grinned back.
“And to think,” Fallon said archly, “that Mom sent us to find you gentlemen because she was afraid you were sitting around, having a long, solemn talk about what would happen now that BB’s leaving.”
Keir raised one dark eyebrow. “You see those guys in the pool? One of the things that put ’em there was calling me Big Brother.”
Megan rose on her toes and peered past Keir. “Poor babies,” she crooned.
Something in Briana’s smile made the hair rise on the back of Keir’s neck.
“What?”
Bree fluttered her lashes. “Enjoy your swim,” she purred.
He yelped as his brother’s hands clamped around his ankles. Keir hit the water hard, went under and came up, sputtering and laughing, between Sean and Cullen.
“Is this the respect you show your big brother?”
Cullen sighed. “All of a sudden, he wants the title back.”
“Damn right.” Keir smiled. “You know what? It’s great to have you home.”
“We agree,” Sean said, and he and Cullen proved it by shoving Keir right back under the water.
Keir awoke at five minutes before six the next morning. He reached out and shut off his alarm clock before its shrill cry could pierce his foggy brain, then sat up and swung his feet to the floor.
Four hours sleep was all he’d had. He and his brothers and sisters had ended up here in his suite, where they’d sat talking and laughing for hours. There’d been a lot of catching up to do. Only the prospect of having to look bright-eyed for their mother’s wedding had finally sent them scattering at almost two in the morning.
Keir yawned, got to his feet and walked into the bathroom. The wedding wasn’t until noon but he needed time to check on things, make sure the flowers, the music, the food and champagne were as close to perfect as he could get them.
It wasn’t every day a man had the chance to oversee his mother’s wedding, he thought as he stepped into the shower.
He had some last minute things to do for himself, too. Falling asleep last night, he’d decided there was no sense in delaying his departure. The sooner he left Vegas and began his new life in Connecticut, the better.
This morning he’d phone his attorney, tell him to fax some documents to Cullen’s New York office, then instruct his accountant to fax his files to Megan’s office in Boston. He’d already arranged for Deer Run’s vintner to stay on, but the woman who managed the restaurant had accepted a job in Florida.
“Too many cold New England winters for me,” she’d said.
That meant he’d need a new manager.
The restaurant was handsome and the food was great. Service had been a little erratic—his main course came out at the same time as his soup—but all that could be dealt with. Instinct told him there were probably other details that needed improving.
He didn’t know what, specifically. Restaurants weren’t his specialty. For the last six years his talent had been managing people and if he’d learned one thing, it was that the key to success was finding the right people, then trusting them enough to do the job.
Finding the right people was relatively simple. Whenever he’d needed a manager, someone with the necessary combination of talent and brass, he’d turned to the TopNotch Employment Agency.
They’d never let him down yet.
Well, why not continue dealing with TopNotch? They had contacts everywhere; they’d sent him people from virtually every state in the union.
Keir stepped from the shower and wrapped a towel around his hips.
Okay. He’d phone TopNotch, lay out what he wanted in a manager for the restaurant and leave finding the right person in their more than capable hands. Then he could devote himself to this new challenge. Deer Run. Wine-making. Life in the quiet hills of Connecticut, instead of the fast neon lanes of Vegas.
Maybe he’d even find himself a woman. Someone special. There hadn’t been anyone special, not for a very long time.
Swift as a heartbeat, an image flickered in his mind. He saw a woman in a long, old-fashioned gown that clung to her lush curves with each whisper of the wind…
“Hell,” he said, and blanked his thoughts to everything but his mother’s wedding.
Promptly at noon, he stood with his brothers and sisters at one side of the altar. Mary had insisted that all her daughters and sons give her away. Dan’s grown children stood near their father. Everyone was smiling.
Smiling—and quietly weeping.
Keir could hear his sisters sniffling into their lace hankies. He glanced at his brothers. Their eyes glittered in a way that told him their throats were as tight with emotion as his.
“…pronounce you man and wife,” the justice of the peace said.
Dan took Mary in his arms. Keir hugged his brothers, kissed his sisters…and suddenly found himself scanning the room filled with family and friends for a glimpse of a woman with sea-green eyes and coal-black hair.
She wasn’t there. Why would she be? And why should he be looking for her? There wasn’t a reason in the world to see her ever again.
“Keir,” his mother said.
He turned and took the duchess in his arms.
“I’m happy for you, Ma.” Dan held out his hand and Keir shook it. “I’m happy for you both.”
Mary laid her hand against his cheek. “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”
Keir drew a breath. “Yes. Tomorrow.” He smiled at Dan. “Now that I know you’re safe in good hands, and happy.”
“I want you to be happy, too, Keir,” Mary said softly.
“I already am.”
His mother’s eyes filled. “You need something more.”
Hours later as he packed, Keir thought about what his mother had said, and wondered if she was right.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bradley Airport, Connecticut, six weeks later:
CASSIE’S plane touched down on the runway just as the first bolt of lightning tore the sky apart.
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