"Lucas, it’s too small in here for
both of us."
Caitlyn’s protest dissolved into
giggles as Lucas drew back the shower curtain and squeezed into the tiny stall
beside her. He towered over her, his massive form overwhelming the small space
and her. Dipping his head to capture her lips, he pinned her against the cool
tile.
"Mmmm…not too small. Cozy,"
he chuckled, as his hands drifted downward and grabbed her bottom, sliding her
up the wall. The cool tiles at her back did little to dampen the heat her body
was radiating. She wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned softly as he
reached between their bodies, dipping two fingers into her core.
“God, Caitlyn. You’re already so
wet.”
“You do seem to have that effect on
me,” she gasped as he withdrew his fingers, sliding them leisurely up over her
clit. A shudder ran through her and she dropped her head, resting her forehead
on his. She wasn’t so much surprised at the effect he had on her body, as much
as she was about her unslakable need for him.
“Lucas, I need to feel you inside
me…now…please.”
A soft growl rumbled deep in his
chest as he nipped and laved her perk, pink nipple. When he lifted his head, he
wore a wolfish grin.
“Well, since you said, please,” he
murmured, sliding her up the wall a little further before bringing her down, impaling
her hard and deep on his cock.
***
When they finally emerged from the
shower stall, the water had run tepid, the bathroom floor was flooded and
Caitlyn’s cheeks bore the mark of his five o’clock shadow.
"You’re looking a bit scruffy
there, my handsome man," she grinned up at him, running her hand along his
cheek. “Why don’t you have a shave and while you do, I’ll cook breakfast."
Clean shaven and dressed, Lucas
walked into the tiny kitchen and wrapped his arms around Caitlyn’s waist as she
was filling two plates.
“Mmm… smells wonderful. And the
food looks great too.”
“Och, go on with ye,” she giggled.
“Sit yourself down. Can’t ye see I’m in the midst of creating a masterpiece?”
Planting a kiss on her cheek, Lucas
obeyed and plopped into one of the chairs at her dining table. As she served up
two plates filled with fried tomatoes, bacon, sausage, cold-boiled potatoes,
beans, black pudding and fried eggs, she couldn’t help but note how Lucas
dwarfed the table, and the room, for that matter. The man was larger than life.
Thankfully, in more ways than one, she thought wickedly as she walked over to the table.
"Do you eat like this every
morning?" he asked with a look of delight as she set a plate down in front
of him.
"Pretty much. Oh, and I made coffee,
too. Unless you prefer tea."
"Coffee, please"
he said enthusiastically, as he forked and bit into a sausage.
Caitlyn fell a little in love with
him in that moment. Maybe it was his boyish smile and the way he attacked his breakfast. Or the snow
drifting down outside the window. Or maybe it was the way his every touch made her
feel safe, secure and cherished.
Whatever the reason, she decided right then and there to stop over-analyzing and simply relish every moment of their remaining time together.
***
Caitlyn felt herself slowly being
seduced. Not only by the intelligent, articulate, hunk of a man sharing her
company, but by the spirit of Christmas. For the first time, since her gran’s
death, Caitlyn reveled in the joys of the season. She delighted in the bright
and cheerful Christmas lights strung across the streets, the holly boughs and wreaths
on every door, and the warm cheerful greetings from strangers in the street.
They spent the days leading up to
Christmas wandering through the narrow, cobblestone streets of Dublin, arm in
arm, soaking up the festive holiday atmosphere while Caitlyn shared the history
of her beloved, adopted city. In the evenings, while she worked, Lucas became a
fixture at the O’Brien’s. Winning over the regulars as easily as he’d won her
heart. And oh, had he won her heart.
Each time the realization that
their relationship was only temporary crept in, threatening to put a damper on
her joy, Caitlyn forced the thought back into the “things to be ignored for as
long as possible” corner of her mind. Logically she knew it wasn’t meant to
last, but that didn’t keep her from falling. All it took was a smile or kiss
and her heart melted for him a little more every day…and night.
And her nights with Lucas were epic. He
was an amazing lover who ravaged her, mind, body and soul. Giving and tender at
times. Hard, greedy and relentless at others. Caitlyn had fallen for him after
their first night together. By Christmas Eve, she knew she’d tumbled the
rest of the way.
Her mind was busy making plans for
New Year’s Eve as they crunched through the snow to Dublin’s medieval Christ
Church Cathedral for the annual Christmas Eve concert. She smiled as they
rounded the corner, her breath catching at the scene of the majestic cathedral
bathed in light, its tower and turrets dusted with new fallen snow.
"You know, Henry II attended
the Christmas service here in 1171," Caitlyn told Lucas, tucking herself
into his side for warmth.
His eyes crinkled with mirth as he
smiled down at her. "You don’t suppose we’ll see old Henry floating
around, do you?"
She giggled and swatted at his arm with a gloved hand. "Tonight’s
concert will be wonderful, but we definitely need to come back on New Year’s
Eve at midnight to hear the change ringers do their thing."
"Change ringers? Who or what
are change ringers?" He asked, staring down at her wearing a befuddled look.
"The change ringers are a
four-hundred-year-old society of bell ringers who ring the bells in mathematical
patterns called ‘changes’. Christ Church Cathedral has a total of nineteen
bells used for change ringing—that’s the most bells in any one tower worldwide.
New Year’s Eve is the only time all nineteen are rung together. It’s an magical way to literally ring in the –“
She broke off and came to a dead
stop.
"Lucas! That hat! The man that
hit me at Newgrange was wearing that hat!"
His chin jerked up as he followed
her pointing finger and zeroed in on the figure of a statuesque woman wearing a round-brimmed hat about a dozen or so yards ahead, milling her way through the
crowd.
"Sweetheart, that’s probably a
popular unisex-style of hat," he said, following Caitlyn as she forged a
path toward the woman.
“No,” Caitlyn said, shaking her
head vehemently. “I only caught a glimpse before I was attacked, but I remember
thinking how distinctive that herringbone pattern was. It's not Irish. I’ve never seen it in
any store in Dublin."
Willing to chase down any possible lead, Lucas shoved his way through
the crowd, planting himself in front of the woman as he reached into his breast
pocket for his credentials.
"Excuse me, ma’am, Special
Agent Lucas Conner with the U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation. I’d like to
ask you a couple of que— Hey!"
The woman spun on her heel and ran. She
careened through the crowd, knocking down concert goers indiscriminately before
breaking left and heading straight toward Caitlyn.
When their glances met, a flash of
surprised recognition leapt into the redhead’s eyes. She sneered at Caitlyn. Och, sneer at me will ye? Ye brazen wench. We’ll see about that. Caitlyn stuck her foot out and leaned her
shoulder toward the woman as she passed, sending the assumed art thief face
first into the snow.
Lucas wore a look of amused
appreciation as he approached, giving Caitlyn a wink before kneeling down to
cuff the snow-sputtering woman.
“Good job, partner.”
“’Tis all in a day’s work, doncha
know?” Caitlyn joked before stepping back as the constables swarmed the scene.
Caitlyn watched as Lucas and the
local authorities bustled the woman away taking with them her dream of a cozy
Christmas Eve snuggled in front of a fire with the man of her dreams.
As Caitlyn presumed, the next forty-eight hours passed
in a disappointing blur. She spent the remainder of Christmas Eve at the police
station, and most of Christmas day alone while Lucas and Inspector O’Malley
worked the case. Their search of the woman’s hotel room yielded not only the
Newgrange stone, but a Bronze Age dagger reported stolen some weeks prior from
a museum in Cobh. Lucas had been correct in his assumption that she had been
waiting for the heat to die down before attempting to smuggle the treasures out
of Ireland.
Faced with mounds of evidence, Jewel
Banks, one of her many aliases, admitted to a long history of well-planned art heists
throughout Europe and the United States. She also agreed to provide the FBI
with information about her wealthy Miami-based client in exchange for protection
and immunity from prosecution. As a result, Lucas pushed through the
extradition paperwork, and made arrangements to leave for the States late
Christmas afternoon.
"I need to get her back and
into interrogation before Saldana hears she’s been arrested," he told
Caitlyn during a rushed farewell at her flat. "If nothing else, we’ll get
the bastard on at least four felony counts of commissioning and financing the
trafficking of stolen goods. I want more, though." He growled. "Much more."
Caitlyn watched Lucas pace around
her tiny flat. If she needed any further proof of how much he loved his job, she had it. Edgy impatience poured off of him. She knew that in his mind he
was already on that plane and headed across the Atlantic…away from her. Knowing there was no way she could ever compete with his profession stung.
"There was a reward for
information leading to the recovery of the dagger," he told her.
"It’s not much, only a few hundred euros, but Inspector O’Malley promised
to make sure it came to you."
She nodded her thanks, her throat
too tight to speak.
"Oh, and before I
forget…" He walked over to the bag he’d set by the door when he’d entered
and returned with it. "I thought I was going to have time to wrap it,
but…well. Merry Christmas, Caitlyn."
Her heart aching, she dug through
the tissue in the bag and pulled out a soft pashmina scarf in the most vibrant
shade of emerald green she’d ever seen. She looked down at the scarf, not
willing to meet Lucas’ gaze until the tears that threatened were well in check.
"It reminded me of your eyes,"
he whispered softly, tucking a finger under her chin and tilting her head back
until their eyes met. He saw the tears, but said nothing. He simply pulled her
into a tight embrace.
Caitlyn snaked her arms around his
waist and held on for dear life. In her heart she knew this was all she’d have
of him. The memories of the last few days and a scarf, both of which she would
cherish for a lifetime.
"I got you something, too.
Nothing grand, but…"
Extracting herself from his
embrace, she walked over to the table near the tree, returning with a small box
wrapped in cheerful Christmas paper. She smiled watching as he tore off the
paper. She could almost imagine what he’d been like as a child on Christmas
morning. The thought made the tears well again.
He grinned up at her as he pulled
out the keychain. It was made of braided black leather with a silver ring at
one end and a weighted Celtic knot at the other. She didn’t tell him it was a
love knot. She couldn’t. Not with him leaving, no doubt never to return.
"It’s beautiful, Caitlyn.
Thank you." He curled a knuckle under her chin and tipped her face to his.
"I’ll be back."
"Och, will ye now?"
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she dredged up a saucy tone. "And when might
that be, me boyo?"
"As soon as I possibly
can. I swear.”
***
Once again Caitlyn was alone. Only
this time the loneliness was almost too much to bear.
In the week that led up to New
Year’s she kept up appearances. Moving through each day in a haze of
half-hearted smiles and feigned holiday cheer, but inside she was miserable. The
colored lights on the street mocked her. Her footsteps echoing in the empty
quad at Trinity College, reflected the lonely ache in her heart. Even the pub was quiet. Most of the students were gone for the holidays and only a scant number of tourists were hardy
enough to brave the weather. Leaving her to wallow and mourn a love that was never meant to be.
Lucas had emailed her the morning after
his return to the States. He’d written that Banks was stumbling over herself to
provide information knowing the FBI was the only thing standing between her and
any death warrant Saldana might issue.
The following day he emailed again.
This time to say he wouldn’t be able to communicate for a while. Caitlyn interpreted
that to mean he was going undercover and worried nonstop the rest of the week for
his safety.
The fear and worry were still with her
on New Year’s Eve, when the entire pub emptied as everyone headed to Christ
Church for the ringing of the bells. Mick, the pub’s owner, tried to cajole
Caitlyn into joining them.
"Aren’t ye going to hear the
bells, love?"
"Nah, Mick. You go on. I’ll mind
the pub."
"Are ye sure? I'll be happy tae stay behind."
"I’m sure. Go. Enjoy yourself."
As the chimes began to sound, faint
and clear in the distance, Caitlyn tried to numb the empty ache around her
heart by keeping busy. She wiped down the counter and then set up rows of
glasses for the patrons who would return ready to toast the New Year.
"Och, I’m nothin’ but a bloody
fool," she muttered as the pub door opened and a late customer entered on
a blast of cold air and the pealing of bells. "What was I thinking? How could I fall in love with a great glom I’ll probably never see again."
She heaved a heavy sigh and turned to tend to the customer, only to find him grinning at her.
"So I’m a great glom, huh?"
Lucas!
She gasped. If they’d passed each other on the street, she wouldn’t have
recognized him. He looked battle worn. Exhausted. His eyes were blood shot, and a vicious bruise mottled
one side of his face, but he radiated triumph.
"We got him, Caitlyn.
Saldana’s done."
She smiled through the tears that
filled her eyes.
“Oh, Lucas. I'm so happy for you.
Congratulations!”
A twinkle of mirth danced in his
eyes. "Not only that, my superiors were so impressed with my knowledge of
prehistoric art that I’ve been assigned to a special Interpol task force based here in Dublin."
"Really? For how long?" Her heart swelled with hope, but at the same time feared his response. She couldn't do temporary. Not with him.
"For at least as long as it takes for you to finish your doctorate. Forever, if you want. I'll make sure of it, sweetheart."
“I…I...you…”
“Save it woman,” he chuckled,
holding his arms open to her. “By my estimation you’ve got about ten seconds to
get out from behind that bar so we can kiss in the New Year. Now move it!"
“Yes, sir!”
Laughing, Caitlyn ducked under the
counter and rushed into his arms, the thunderous pounding of her heart drowning
out the cacophony of bells ringing in the New Year. And as his lips crushed
down on hers, she melted against him, basking not only in his warmth, but in
the knowledge that she'd never spend another Christmas alone.
THE END