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“Hand.” I’d give him a kidney right now. Even if I only had one. Maybe. That’s how insane I am from just one glance at him shirtless.
From a tube he brought back, he squeezes a pea-size glob into the middle of my palm. “I can rub it in, or you can,” he says breathily.
Oh, I want to rub something…
Smiling, I say, “You seem to know what you’re doing.”
He chuckles darkly. “Burns are actually not my specialty.” The circular motions he makes with the burn cream are so delicate, and it makes me shiver because the scorch mark sits right in the middle of my palm. The pressure and the movement of his fingers awakes the pulse between my thighs.
“What is your specialty?” I return the breathy tone.
“Gunshot wounds—in a way. I know where all the arteries are to put pressure.” He keeps his voice oddly casual given the subject matter.
“I see.” I exhale. “That feels good.”
“It should. It’s prescription strength.” He shows me the tube. There’s no label, only a tag. The name O’Rourke catches my eye.
Dr. Darragh O’Rourke
“Is that another brother of yours?”
“Aye. He called it in several years ago when I grabbed the fireplace grate without thinking.”
“You? Not thinking?”
He rakes his eyes over me. “It was…the anniversary of Norah’s death. Not a good day for me.”
“I’ll make sure to watch what I do when the one-year mark for my mother comes around.”
“Shite, Isabella. I didn’t even think…”
“It’s okay. Like you said, this all happened so soon.” I clear my throat. “I saw you at the church the day of the funeral. But you didn’t go to the cemetery.”
“Aye.”
The one-word answer confuses me. “Is…Norah buried there?”
“No. She’s cremated. It was her wish.”
“Where are her ashes? Here in the house?” Ifeellike eyes are watching us.
“No. She wasn’t my wife. I had no right to them. Plus, she wanted them brought back to Ireland. Ewan took her home.”
“Home?”
“Where she was born. Where I was born.”
Swallowing, I say, “Have you been back to Ireland?”
“No. Just too busy.”
“I’ve never been. I’d like to see where you were born.”
“Really?” He lies lazily next to me, his elbow propping him up. Like this is normal. Like we’re just two people and not a don and the princess he forced to marry him. This is comfortable. “Maybe someday.” He glances down at me, and I’m not sure I understand the look in his eyes.
Could it be happiness? Contentment, anyway. I feel it, too, but I suddenly want more. I stuffed away the ache to be loved. Perhaps this is the last place I’ll get it. But this man loved someone once. It’s deep within him. He’s handsome as hell. Powerful. I know how to fight for what I want. I’d been doing that with my father. I also know that means compromising and giving in at times.
“Kieran?”
