Juice: The O'Malleys Book 1, contemporary Adult Romance (11 page)

“My car is just over here,” he took her elbow and guided her towards a black car with tinted windows parked against the kerb. An attractive man confidently stepped out of the driver seat and held her door open.

“Hello Miss Evans, lovely evening isn’t it. I’m Paul McEvoy, Rory’s driver.”

The man was very tall with short grey hair and a big smile lit up his face and she took to him immediately and returned the smile. What had happened to the other driver? Paul was dressed casually and was a world away from the short stout man and his too big hat.

“Oh please call me Cassidy or Cass, Paul. It’s so nice to meet you,” she held out her hand and shook Paul’s with enthusiasm.

“The pleasure is all mine Cass.”

She saw Paul look to Rory and observed the friendly look that passed between them. Rory and Paul chatted for a few minutes like old friends and she was warmed by the genuine affection Rory showed for the man. Most men of his wealth and status didn’t take the time to get to know their staff, let alone talk to them on an equal level. Rory was proving to be harder to dislike than she had expected. She turned her head and looked out the window in a futile attempt to hide the feelings that being in close proximity to him produced. It was a mild evening but her dress felt sticky on her back as it touched the leather seat. His leg came to rest against hers. Cass tried not to focus on the solid wall of muscle as it pressed against the thin material of her dress.

Rory was finding it hard to concentrate on Paul’s chatter with Cassidy sitting so close to him. He was glad to have him back though. He missed him. Paul was so close he was family and trusted him completely. Trust meant everything to the O’Malleys. Money changed how people viewed you and some would do anything to get it. Cassidy looked good enough to eat and the fuck me shoes she was wearing were making him imagine doing awfully dirty things to her. He was annoyed that she had stood outside on her own with no one to protect her. He had wanted to rip the heads off the fools that were eyeing her up from across the street. The dress she was wearing clung to every one of her delicious curves and accentuated each round soft inch of her, from her arse to those beautiful breasts. She was all woman, nothing like the women he was used to dating in the last few years. He had fallen into a rut of choosing women who knew the score. A quick fuck and reward system. He fucked them and then pawned them off with trinkets and gifts. In the last year he had become so bored of women who wouldn’t eat more than a few mouthfuls of food instead filling up on coffee and cigarettes. He tried to stop imagining what Cassidy’s body looked like naked, which was proving impossible. She smelled like cinnamon and cloves and his head was suddenly bombarded with images of his mother’s kitchen. Of hot apple pie and warmth. He squeezed his eyes tight to block out the images that followed. His mothers’ face etched in pain and worry.
Stop it
! He warned himself. That was done with now, that time in their lives was over. Thanks to the kindness of a stranger. A stranger called Harry Evans. They would never return to that darkness, that desperate fear that they would lose Aoife. Things were good now and getting better by the minute. He would ring his mama later; and promise her that he would visit soon. Maybe he would even follow through on it this time.

The bistro was located near the entrance to Regent’s Park and was of course exquisite. Cass stood and looked around at the décor taking it all in. The restaurant itself looked like a cellar with an old red brick curved ceiling adding to the effect. It added to the ambiance and gave a New York apartment type feel to it. She nearly squeaked when she recognised some of her own early artwork on the walls. The red nude series had sold well and allowed her to make the move to London with Mark and Marie. It was a bittersweet kind of pleasure; she had painted the series in the few months following Harry’s death. A cathartic process that had proved financially lucrative too.

Cass took a few sneaky pictures on her phone and sent them to Marie. Red glass candelabras hung over the two long tables at each side of the room to compliment the paintings. Romantic and intimate, it was beautiful. Rory greeted the owner by name and hugged him laughing. They shared a joke and Cass smiled waiting by his side, nervously fidgeting and moving from foot to foot. Rory gently moved her forward his hand resting firmly her lower back. She stiffened at his touch; it felt so warm and steadying, it also made her feel things she hadn’t felt in so long and was almost foreign to her.

“Darragh, this is Cassidy Evans of the Muse Gallery. I believe you have some of her work. Cassidy, this is Darragh. My big brother.”

Cassidy watched as Darragh’s mouth made a surprised O shape and he looked back to Rory and blinked his eyes. Cassidy frowned in confusion as the man seemed to gather himself and then hugged her warmly. He was as big as Rory, but his colouring was completely different. He had long red wavy hair which framed an angelic face with full lips and wide eyes. His eyes were an unusually exquisite golden colour. He had a look of an angel, and Cassidy mused that he would make a wonderful subject for a painting. Why did he not emblaze the same animal lust that his brother brought out in her?  Darragh smiled at her shyly and was softly spoken.

“A pleasure, Cassidy. Really lovely to meet you. I do indeed have several of your paintings. I am a big admirer of your work. I hope you have a pleasant evening, let me know if there is anything I can do to make you more at home. A word Rory. Please?” Cassidy frowned at the two men, the tension between them suddenly palpable. Rory put his hand on Darragh’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Maybe later Dar, I’m famished.”

Darragh bit his lower lip and nodded raising his hand to gain the attention of a waiter.

“Rory’s usual table please Peter.”

Cassidy moved behind the waiter and followed him to a small candlelit table nestled in a quiet alcove. Great table, best in house. No doubt exactly what Rory was used to she thought, before reprimanding herself for being unnecessarily bitchy.

“Here, let me.”

Cassidy smiled as Rory pulled out her chair.

“Why thank you Rory.”

“My pleasure Cassidy,” he whispered into her ear. Cassidy stilted as his breath fanned her neck and she turned her face to his, so close their lips were almost touching. The scar on his lip was visible and gleaming white against the tan of his face and the redness of his lips. She fought the urge to dart her tongue across his lips and moved a shaky hand up to her own mouth.

Rory could smell the mint from her toothpaste her mouth was so close to his. All it would take to feel her lips on his would be a slight movement of his head. She was guarded and he wanted to know why. She intrigued him and he wanted to find out what made her tick. The need to possess her was suddenly overwhelming. Cassidy scanned the menu taking in the opulent surroundings and tried not to be intimidated by the presence of the man in front of her.

“Would you like me to order for us,” Rory asked.

Cassidy threw back her head and laughed drawing glances from some of the other customers.

“Ah, no. No thank you. I think I can manage that myself, but thank you very much Rory.”

Rory grinned over the table at her. She was feisty, he liked it very much.

“Glad to hear it, Cassidy. I was just wondering if you needed some help in deciding, I eat here often and the steak is really, really good.”

Rory bent his head low and whispered covertly from behind the menu.

“I get family rates too…shush.” Rory put his finger to his lips and smiled at her.

“You have a great laugh Cassidy, by the way. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Loud and like a donkey, my brother used to say.”

“I love to hear a loud and open laugh. It feels honest. So we’re all good then.”

Cassidy felt herself grinning like an idiot.

“Hmmmm looks like I’ll have the steak then,” she conceded smiling broadly. It was starting to become too hard not to be bowled over by the sheer fun and ease of this more relaxed Rory.

“This place is lovely Rory. Does Darragh manage the restaurant?”

“Ah yeah, it’s a lovely spot all right. Darragh actually owns the bistro Cassidy. He owns a chain of bistros called The Tuscany Group. They specialize in seafood and steak. He has this one in London and two more of them in Ireland. On the South west coast, near my family home. He spends the year travelling from restaurant to restaurant, he spends six months here in London and six months at home in Ireland.”

“Of course, Tuscany Bistros. They have quite a reputation for excellence. Very beautiful establishments with fantastic locations. Do all your family work in the hotel and restaurant industry?”

“No, not all of us. Just the boys. My brother Rian runs the O'Malley Resorts in the Caribbean. One on a little Island just off Barbados and another off Grenada. And Darragh has the bistros. My dad was in charge of all the resorts, he’s retiring this year.  I took over as acting CEO of O'Malley Resorts worldwide two years ago. So I’m eager to get my teeth fully into it. It involves some travel through the winter months, which is the warmer season in the Caribbean resorts. And then I recoup in Ireland during the summer.”

“What do the rest of the family do? Are you the eldest?”

“No, second eldest. Darragh is thirty two, he’s the eldest. I just turned thirty last month and my other brother Rian is twenty eight. Darragh is the quiet sensible brother and Rian is the unpredictable brother.

“Oh and which one are you?” Cass asked smiling at him.

“I’m the annoying brother who always thinks he’s right,” Rory laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, really? Good to know,” Cass nodded at him feigning seriousness. “So just two brothers, is that it?”

“Oh no. There are five of us. I have two sisters, Aoife and Annie. Aoife is twenty seven and Annie is the baby, she’s twenty five. Although, Annie is the boss of all of us or so she thinks. She has twin daughters, Katie and Junie. They were two, last month. Two little rascals they are too.”

Cass felt a pang of pain at the mention of twins. “They must keep her busy but a delight too I’m sure.”

“Yeah, Annie’s had a tough time the last two years. She’s raising the twins on her own after her husband James passed away while she was pregnant.”

“Oh no! That has to be so hard. I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose your partner especially while pregnant.” Cass felt genuinely upset for his sister.

“Annie is as tough as nails, but it hit her hard. James died from lymphatic cancer. It was a tough time. But Annie got through it. She’s pretty independent. And I think having the girls was some kind of salve to her.” Cass nodded and got the feeling he wanted to change the subject.

“Do your sisters work for your dad too?”

“No. Annie is a farm animal vet, horses and cows mainly. Aoife is a writer; both of them live in County Clare near our home place.”

“A writer. Wow! Oh what kind of books does she write?”

“Romance novels.”

“She must be a real romantic.”

No! Rory wanted to shout out.
Aoife lives her life through books but refuses to have one of her own.

Instead he lifted his glass to his mouth and ignored the question.

“So they all live in Ireland pretty much? What made you all go into private and secluded resorts, rather than city life?

“We O’Malleys are an odd bunch I guess. We prefer the quiet life in general, although Darragh has the city in his heart too. The resorts are small and exclusive.

They have a very specific niche market. My dad is a bit eccentric you see and likes life off the grid. My father liked the idea of secluded locations built for pure relaxation, rather than a party atmosphere. He was always a bit of a hippy, or more of a beatnik actually to be specific. He left Ireland and went to San Francisco for a few years in the sixties. My poor granny was heartbroken, but, he was his own man and the Ireland of the sixties was too restrictive for my dad. Anyway, he ended up managing a coffee shop that hosted poetry slams for poets like Allen Ginsberg, Michael McClure and a whole host of the beat generation writers.

He met my mama over there. She was in America to study English, she’s from Italy originally. They met at a reading in the famous City Lights bookstore. It was love at first verse.” Cass was intrigued. Who was this guy? Interesting and funny, he made her feel giddy.