Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

D eclan

Classical music greets me when I walk through the front door. I find Miranda in the informal living room, reading on the sofa.

Her eyes find me, "I was wondering where you were. Is everything okay?"

Sitting down beside her, I tug her into my arms. "It's better now that I'm home."

A little sigh slides out of her as she lays her head on my chest. "Me too. I was so worried that I couldn't really focus on anything the whole time you were gone. I never thought I'd miss work as much as I do to have something to think about and do."

Running a hand over her hair, I give in to what I wanted to talk about last night. "I want you to quit."

She stiffens and tries to sit up.

I don't let her go. "Please just listen to me. You give everything to the job. I'm a demanding motherfucker. I don't like sharing so much of you with anyone or anything, but especially not to a job. There's no need for you to work. I'll take care of you."

Sighing, she tries to push me away. I tighten my arms around her. "Damn it, Declan. Let me go. You can't just order me to quit my job. Do you have any idea how hard I've worked to get where I am? To make what I do. I'm in the corner office with a year-end bonus that used to be what I made."

"That's because you had to. You don't have to anymore. Sell your house and stick the money in your bank account. I'm good to ensure you get what you made put there in a month into your account to spend as you want."

Shit, now she's pissed. "I'm not going to take your money to be with you?—"

"What did you get in your prenup with your ex?"

Her forehead wrinkles. "What?"

"A prenup doesn't just protect the one with money. It's supposed to protect the one who has to give up everything to be with them. When I married Orla, her father was adamant money be paid to her every month for her to spend as she wanted. In my world, women don't work. To be out in the public gives others the opportunity to get close to you and me. I understand how important it is to you to be independent. The money you will get every month gives you that independence." I explain.

I exhale the breath I didn't realize I was holding while she considers my argument.

"It feels wrong." Her voice is low .

Running a finger over her lips, I shake my head. "It's not—for you or me. I'm well aware you aren't with me for my money. Take some time to enjoy yourself and me," I chuckle at the way she rolls her eyes.

"You've been going a thousand miles a minute since you were a teenager. Lay on the couch and read some books. Aoife told me you liked helping her make bread. If you're interested in it, fine. But you aren't going to serve me or anyone. Take up knitting, there's a rose bush in the back that needs attention, find something to do for fun. I want to see you smiling more."

"You make it so hard not to love you." She sighs.

"Good."

Miranda

The next day, I call my boss and let him know I'm resigning. He's not happy but doesn't try to argue. His one request is for me to work for a week to close out clients and help those taking over know what's going on.

With Declan staring me down, I agree to a week. And repeat what Declan says, I'll be in no earlier than nine and out by five—no more late nights.

Ending the call, it takes a moment for it to sink in. I have no idea why I start crying. I'm instantly in Declan's arms.

A large hand runs up and down my back. "I know, my love. It's scary. Your work was a safe place. Somewhere you could go and be in control. As comfortable to you as your home. Leaving is overwhelming. I swear, if I thought you would do it the right way and not let it consume you and take away from us—I wouldn't have asked you to leave."

How does he get me more than I do? I had no idea why I was crying until he said it. It's overwhelming, as though I'm floating in the middle of the big, wide ocean all alone.

Except I'm not alone. Declan has me in his arms. It wasn't about his need to control me. He asked me to quit because he wanted to see me happy. For me to find a life outside of work. A life with him in it. I'll take that any day.

Miranda

It's Sunday, and tomorrow, I'm going to go back to work for the week.

"What sounds good for dinner?" Declan asks as he pulls me up off my knees from the rose bush I've been tending in the backyard.

"Hmm…" I wrap my arms around his waist. "I've been thinking of that tiramisu since we had it."

"I like that idea. And I need to talk to Dominic."

Taking off the apron and gloves, I store them in the carriage house Declan opened for me. "Should I change?"

His eyes run over the purple and pink sundress I'm wearing. "No, you look beautiful. I need to call Lydia so you two can go shopping together next week. You need more dresses like this. It's perfect for the club."

"A club? Are you sure I'm dressed okay?" I don't have a choice as he's guiding me to the Navigator and opening the door for me .

"I told you, you're beautiful. It's a private club with the best Italian kitchen in the city and gambling in the basement. Dominic likes to refer to it as a bar because he mainly just drinks there." He chuckles as he starts the car.

Since he doesn't appear bothered by the questions, I ask. "If he has gambling. Why is he okay with you having gambling in your pubs?"

"Because it's not as though I'm taking his customers. Maybe ten percent of the people who gamble in his club would ever gamble in mine. His place is called a club as those who gamble there have to pay thirty thousand a year to be able to walk through the door. It gives them access to the kitchen and the gambling room. The Irish would never pay to gamble in his place. It's a community thing. They wouldn't trust the Italians not to cheat them either on a game or of the money they were owed."

"That first day, I thought it was like you were a small-town mayor..."

He nods. "Pretty much. It doesn't matter if they're third-generation Irish or came over three months ago. They prefer to stay within their own countrymen as they feel it's safer that way. It's easier to pick up the phone and call me for advice and assistance than anyone else. I have their best interests at heart as a community."

Tension eases within me. This is the good to the bad.

A very large man opens the door for us. Seeing Declan, he nods then his eyes go to me. "Hey, Declan. You here to meet with Dom?"

Declan shakes his head. "No, I'm here for dinner." His hand on my waist squeezes me to him. "She loved the tiramisu. Although if he's here, I wanted to check with him on how things shook out on his meeting with the Serbians."

"He's here. Tony too. They're in Dom's office. Just talking. Get you squared with dinner first?"

"I'm starving, so yeah."

The man waves his hand, and a man comes from behind the bar. "Glad to see you join us for dinner rather than takeaway. And with a beautiful woman, lucky you."

"Richie, this is Miranda. I've managed to sweet-talk her into believing I'm not all bad. So don't go telling her the truth about me."

"Thank you." I lean into Declan. "He had to do takeaway since he kidnapped me, and I wasn't allowed to leave the house."

Both Richie and Declan laugh. "A little opposition never hurt anyone. Especially since you and your pretty mug are used to getting every woman you want with a wink. You cost me two good waitresses when they fought over waiting on you last time."

The place is almost empty. In the front area, where a long wooden bar is the focal point, there are several booths and a few tables of four and six scattered throughout. Only one person is at the bar, two men are in a booth, and two men and one woman are at a table.

We're shown to an area in the back without overhead lighting. The only lighting in this area is a few wall sconces around the room and candles on the tables. There's only one table of a couple on the other side of the room from the table in the corner where we are seated. It feels romantic and cozy even though it's a large room that has at least twenty other tables in it .

I raise my eyebrows at Declan. "Two waitresses?"

His hand at my back as he holds out my chair, slides down, and squeezes my ass. "I wouldn't give either of them the time of day. It's why they were fighting. Wasn't interested."

Richie had disappeared and is back with a menu. "Since you've never visited us before. Have a look. We're also to things not on the menu, within reason. Our goal is to please our members. Even though this bum doesn't pay, a beautiful woman like you deserves the best experience. I'll give you a few minutes."

I'm almost overwhelmed by the menu. "Everything looks good. I can't pick just one thing."

Declan chuckles. "Pick the two things you want the most. I'll get one, and we'll share."

"Really? No five hundred calories only for you tonight? Especially with the whole tiramisu thing." I worry he'll be resentful.

"I told you. It's just to keep calories down, so I don't have to work out as much. You've seen what I do ninety percent of the time—I'm sitting behind a desk. If I ate everything I wanted all the time, I would have to spend even more time working out or carry around an extra fifty pounds. One or two nights a week isn't the end of the world. You getting what you want is more important to me."

It also leaves me self-conscious.

"Hey, look at me. A soft body makes it seem like I'm soft. It's a business thing. Your body is for pure pleasure. Don't even think like that. I thought we settled that negative thinking. Especially when I can't keep my hands off you. I wouldn't mind your gorgeous ass expanding in the slightest. "

I can't help laughing and all my worries disappear. God, he can be so freaking sweet sometimes. "Okay, I want to try the manicotti with sausage for sure. But I can't decide between the gnocchi in veal ragu or the chicche. I've never heard of it before. Have you tried it? Which would you prefer?"

A woman is at our table. Her smile is directed at Declan. It's as if I'm not even here. "Are you ready to order, sir?"

Declan nods. "We'll have arancini and calamari as our starters and the polpettine to go. The gnocchi in ragu, chicche, and manicotti with sausage. We'll also put in our order for one tiramisu to share here and another to take home. And a bottle of the pinot noir Tony drinks. Thanks."

The woman writes everything down and takes the menu from my hands without even glancing my way.

"I can't believe you ordered all that."

His hand is around the back of my neck, and he pulls me to him. I want to moan at how close his mouth is to mine without him kissing me. "You get what you need and what you want."

Richie is back. "Dom is asking for you."

Declan presses his lips to the corner of my mouth, then he's gone. I barely have time to wonder how long he'll be gone when a man appears. He's huge, at least six foot four, with a large barrel chest barely contained in a charcoal gray suit that has to be cut to fit him. His hair is more silver than black. Piercing blue eyes meet mine and hold.

A large hand is out to me. "Tony Sabatini. I hated the thought of you left on your own while Declan and my son spoke. A beautiful woman such as yourself should definitely not be left alone. I'm surprised Declan did. "

I take the hand, and my own disappears within his. Despite the dimple winking at me from his right cheek and his charming smile, there is a sadness wrapped around him. "Miranda, it's nice to meet you. Thank you. I think I can manage to go forfive or ten minutes without Declan. My father spoke of you once, a long time ago, Samuel Beckett."

His smile deepens. Letting my hand go, he gestures to Declan's empty chair. "Samuel Beckett, the Scot with an Irishman's name. I remember him well, good man. I appreciated his repair shop was one I could urge others to use as he never cheated or took advantage of a customer. May I?"

His praise of my father soothes something in me that I hadn't realized I needed. "Yes, of course."

Sitting down, he takes the wine brought by the waitress. "I'll pour." He tells her.

She nods and leaves.

"I'll admit to being curious of the woman who was able to capture the heart of that Irish Devil Declan. Richie shared you joked about Declan kidnapping you. However, I do believe you were more than honest. Interesting. When the fog lifts, will you make your escape?"

I laugh when I realize what he means. "No. I was attracted to Declan when I met him. It was my fear that kept me from admitting it to myself."

"Fear? Are you afraid of him?" He frowns fiercely.

"I'm not afraid of Declan. I was afraid of everything but him. Life made me afraid of feeling anything, certain one day I would lose it, or it would betray me. I felt safer being alone. There's no controlling someone else, but I could control me. By being alone, no one could make me love them then leave me. A part of the fear was he would be hurt by this world and he would leave me that way. Finally, I realized the only guarantee in life is that things end. It might be tomorrow or fifty years from now. But it will eventually. I'd rather have the memory of something good than nothing at all when it does."

The dimple deepens. "I'm beginning to understand now. You are a strong, fascinating woman. I was under the impression he would need a gun held to his head to fall for a woman. As trite as it might be, I believe the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Especially when it comes to the men in this world. A gun is often more appealing than a beautiful woman. We know what makes the gun go off."

The darkness around him shimmers when he speaks of love. My heart aches for him. He loved someone deeply. She's gone now, and he would rather have had the gun go off. "Was it a gun held to your head that made you fall in love?"

He blinks, and the smile disappears.

"I'm sorry. Something tells me she'll be back someday. I have no doubt you're haunting her dreams. There's only so long a woman could go without the real thing when she knows it's out there waiting for her."

Declan is back with a man who is clearly Dominic Sabatini, as he looks like his father down to the dimples and ice-blue eyes. "Dominic, this is my Miranda. Miranda, this is Dominic Sabatini."

Dominic nods at me, although his eyes are on his father. "Lovely to meet you. I hear you're a fan of the tiramisu. We might have a pan of it that won't be used tonight I can send home with you. "

I shake my head. "Please, no. I'll eat the whole thing and feel fat for weeks?—"

Before I blink, Declan's finger is on my mouth. "We talked about saying shit like that." His words are a hiss. He's angry, and I'm fucked up because instead of scaring me, his anger makes me wet. "Now, thank Dominic like a good girl. So he can depart, and I can punish you."

When he lifts his finger from my lips, I look to Dominic, who is smiling. Blushing, I drop my eyes. "Thank you for the tiramisu. That's kind of you."

"No problem. Enjoy your dinner." Dominic nods at me before walking away.

Tony stands, a large hand falls on Declan's shoulder. "You have a good one. Take care of her."

He gives me a sad smile. "If you ever need for anything, please call upon me."

"Thank you. I hope I don't."

"Me too." His eyes are hard on Declan. Then he's gone.

Declan stares after Tony. "What happened?"

I shrug. "I couldn't help it. It was just clear he was sad. I hope I didn't make it worse. I told him…I think she'll be back. He's not a man someone could easily forget or walk away from."

Leaning back in his chair, he studies me. "I hope for her sake she doesn't. Dominic will likely kill her if he finds her before she gets to Tony."

"I don't think he will. Not when he knows how much it would hurt Tony if he does." His eyes scan the room as the couple who were on the other side of the room leave. He's in the corner with his back against the wall. "Now it's time for your punishment."

"Here, now?"

I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or not when the waitress brings our appetizers. I swallow down the last of my glass of wine. Declan refills it for me.

Once she's gone, his smile is absolutely wicked. "Here. Now."

"Please, no, Declan. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Please don't spank me here in public. I'll be good. Anything you want, I'll do it. I promise."

An eyebrow goes up. "Anything?"

Oh god, my throat is growing tight from the weight of his eyes on me. Thank god, I'm sitting because those eyes turn my legs so weak I would be on my knees for him. I want to be on my knees for him.

I've only taken him into my mouth twice since he had me on my knees after he spanked me in his office. I'm not sure why he thought this was a punishment because I love him in my mouth. It just wasn't easy due to how thick and long he is.

"Anything."

"Show me." The words are full of smoke, reaching across the table, wrapping around me, and pulling me toward him.