Mr. Insatiable (4 page)

He adored her the same way she idolized him–because when you weren’t dating someone, you overlooked their flaws and hid your own from the other person. He couldn’t be perfect, although he often appeared so to her. He’d have his faults, and if they dated, he’d discover hers, and they’d both end up disillusioned and disappointed. She didn’t want that. She liked the way he treated her like a princess, how he felt the need to protect her, even though it sometimes irritated her that he didn’t seem to have realized she’d grown up. He never criticized her, always stood up for her, and she knew she could do no wrong in his eyes. But no relationship was perfect–how would she feel if she went out with him and then she started annoying him–if he began making excuses not to be with her? It would break her heart.

And of course, she mustn’t forget the most obvious reason that she was so wrong for him. This being that Kit wanted his own family, and Enya couldn’t have children.

She was certain he didn’t know. Nobody knew, as far as she was aware, except for her parents, Tristan, and Niall. And she was happy to keep it that way. She wasn’t sure what it meant for her future relationships. She hoped if she found a nice guy who seemed interested in settling down, if he loved her enough, he’d be willing to overlook her problem and consider adoption. But Kit–being adopted himself–wanted his own children, and she couldn’t blame him for that. Kit wasn’t meant for her. She’d accepted that a long time ago.

The kiss had been fun, but she shouldn’t think of it anymore. She loved Kit dearly, as a brother, and her loneliness and insecurity after breaking up with Andy had made her mind focus on things it shouldn’t have. It was never going to happen, and the sooner she came to terms with that, the better.

Chapter

3

After she’d told herself that Kit was out of bounds, Enya relaxed and tried to enjoy the evening as much as she could. She danced with Lisette until her feet hurt and then kicked off her shoes and danced some more. She joined Kit in entertaining the kids, doing the ridiculous dance songs with them, and laughed as she watched him sliding across the polished wooden dance floor with them in his socks. She watched him charm the plain teenage girls and dance and flirt with the elderly aunts. But she kept her distance and was careful not to catch his eye in a flirtatious way again.

When it got to ten o’clock, he disappeared, and she knew he’d gone out to check on the firework display he’d organized with his staff earlier in the day. Aware that he might miss Tristan’s help, at twenty past she wandered out after him, finding him under the colonnade outside the hotel talking to one of his managers, looking up at the sky.

“It stopped raining then,” she said, joining him and checking out the stars. “See, I told you booking the weather would work.”

He laughed, pulled her toward him, and kissed the top of her head. His lips lingered on her hair, and she shivered.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You put on a good show, but I can tell you’re still feeling down.”

“I’m fine.” She smiled, moving away from him. “Anything I can do to help?”

“No, everything’s ready.” He hesitated, but someone had taken the microphone to tell everyone the display was ready, and she walked along to the hall before he could speak. “Celt?”

She turned and smiled. “Good luck. I hope it goes well.”

He waited until she met his gaze. “I’ll talk to you later. You’re still hiding something from me–I can tell, and I’m determined to find out what it is.”

“You don’t have to know everything about me.”

His gaze was challenging. “Yes, I do.”

She looked at him coolly. “You really don’t.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but people were starting to filter out so, giving her a final thoughtful glance, he left her and went over to where he’d set up his computer at the end of the colonnade, ready to control the digital remote firing systems for the fireworks.

Enya sat in one of the seats lined up facing the lawn. She turned to watch the guests while they took their seats, and her heart gave a thump. Right at the back, Andy sat with Julie Lang, a girl she’d gone to school with who socialized with them occasionally. Enya bit her lip. It wasn’t shocking that they were talking–what made her breath catch in her throat was the fact that they were holding hands. They released them as they joined the others, but it was too late–she’d already seen them.

She looked across at Kit, startled to see he’d followed her gaze and, from his frown, had seen them holding hands too. Keeping her demeanor calm, even though her heart thumped, she turned back to the lawn. She wasn’t going to think about it now. She loved the
Catherine’s Wheel
presentations, and knew Kit would have made a special effort for Tristan and Lisette’s wedding.

Sure enough, as Handel’s
Music for the Royal Fireworks
filled the air, jumping jacks, skyrockets, and fountains threw pyrotechnic colored stars into the night sky, accompanied by the oohs and aahs of the audience. The beautiful music echoed around the hotel grounds as the stars exploded in dahlia and willow effects, silver-and-gold crossettes, and a spinning Catherine wheel that made the audience catch their breath as one.

The presentation went smoothly–not that she would have expected anything less
.
Kit and Tristan had been running the business for four years now, and they’d quickly grown to be the number one fireworks firm in Auckland. With Tristan’s practical expertise, Kit’s vision, and their combined fascination with blowing things up, she was sure they’d soon be the biggest pyrotechnic firm in the whole country.

The music drew to a climax, and her cheeks were damp when the presentation ended. The fireworks always moved her, and of course they were especially meaningful today especially when she saw the finishing piece–a huge heart with T and L in the middle, lit with silver and golden stars. But she wiped the tears away before anyone saw them, and joined the others in cheering as Kit and Tristan hugged and Lisette gave them both a huge kiss on the cheek, and everyone laughed.

* * * *

The dancing continued, but over the next couple of hours, the wedding guests gradually retired to their rooms in the hotel. Those with younger children and the elderly were first, and then slowly everyone else followed as the alcohol and energetic dancing took its toll.

In the end, only the small group of friends and their parents remained, and they collapsed with tiredness in one corner of the hall as the band packed up.

“I’m shagged.” Tristan yawned.

“Great,” Lisette said. “Guess I’m out of luck tonight then?”

Everyone laughed, and Lisette squealed as he grabbed her hands and pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap, whispering in her ear, and she slapped him before she giggled and he nuzzled her neck.

Niall O’Donnell rolled his eyes and got up. “I’m going to bed.”

“Don’t worry, little brother,” Tristan called after him. “It’ll be you next.”

Niall gave him the finger and disappeared. His parents laughed. “I don’t think so,” said Patrick O’Donnell. He raised his eyebrow at his wife. “I think it’s more likely to be Enya next, don’t you?”

Maria O’Donnell nodded. “Definitely. Where is Andy, anyway?”

Enya gritted her teeth as everyone turned to look at her, but managed to force out a smile. “Gone to bed–he was tired.” She’d booked herself another room the day before, but hadn’t yet told her parents they’d broken up. Julie had gone to bed too. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kit watching her, but she didn’t look at him. “I might make my way up, actually.”

As the others gathered their bags and jackets, she slid her high heels back on. She’d spent most of the evening shoeless, and they were tight now. Standing, she cursed beneath her breath as she tried to keep her balance. How much had she drunk? She’d alternated wine with lemonade, but she’d been drinking steadily all evening. She still didn’t feel as drunk as she’d hoped she’d be, though. She’d planned to lose herself in the alcohol and numb the disappointment and regret at the thought of her recent broken relationship, but the hurt and anger still felt new and bright, burning in her stomach like acid.

“Watch where you’re going,” Kit called from behind her suddenly, but his warning came too late. She hadn’t seen the step up to the dais area, and she stumbled and fell. Kit ran across to catch her with an arm around her waist, but not before she’d managed to twist her ankle in the heels.

“Enya?” Her father hurried over. “Are you all right?”

She leaned on Kit as she tested her weight, wincing and giving a squeal. “Damn it.”

“Have you sprained it?”

“I think so.”

Kit lifted her easily into his arms. “Luckily it’s the end of the night or you’d have been resigned to a chair all evening.”

Kit’s mother, Cate–after whom he’d named
Catherine’s Wheel
–lifted up the bottom of Enya’s skirt and examined her ankle. “Oh love, it’s already swelling. It’ll be black and blue in the morning.”

“I’ll take her to the bar and get some ice,” Kit said.

“Thanks, son,” Patrick said. “Are you sure you can manage? She weighs a ton.”

Enya clouted him with her handbag. “Thanks.”

Kit laughed. “She’s incredibly light actually.” He smiled at her. “Clearly you need feeding up.”

She didn’t reply. Her mouth was close to his jaw line, now dark with stubble, and she fought every instinct to lean forward and kiss it. She closed her eyes. She needed to get to bed. She was more drunk than she realized.

“Can you make sure she gets up to her room okay?” Maria asked Kit. “We’re off to bed.”

Enya opened her eyes and saw John Fawkes watching his son. He was frowning, and Kit shook his head impatiently.

What was that about?

But Kit only said, “Of course, sleep well,” to her mother, and they bid good night to the bride and groom before he carried her out of the hall.

He crossed the foyer toward the bar, where only a couple of people remained finishing off a late night tipple. He asked the barman for a pack of ice and then carried Enya across to a window seat, depositing her there before he went back to collect the ice pack. He sat next to her and lifted her feet onto his lap, taking off her shoes. Sliding her long blue dress up to expose the ankle that was already swelling, he placed the pack on it.

“Ooh, that’s cold.” She shivered. “I’m freezing.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Kit stared at the floor for a moment before casting her an apologetic look. “Sorry. Did I really say that?”

She looked down. Her nipples stood out like two buttons. “Kit. Honestly.”

He pulled her wrap closer around her shoulders. “Sorry. I didn’t think I was drunk, but I’m beginning to wonder.”

She studied him, noting his half-lidded eyes and the careful way he moved, as if afraid he might knock something over. “You’re trashed.”

“Takes one to know one, Celt.”

They both laughed.

The barman came over. “Would either of you like a drink?”

Kit raised an eyebrow at her. She nodded fervently and said, “Yes please. Double whisky.”

He grinned. “Me too. The Bowmore please. On ice. Can you put it on room 124?”

Enya nodded her agreement but pulled a face as the barman walked away. “I’m not as keen on the Islay malts. Too peaty–like drinking medicine.”

“You want a Glenlivet instead?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I just want to get drunk so the malt’ll do fine.”

He tipped his head at her as he shifted the ice pack, making sure her ankle was covered. “You know I saw them. Andy and Julie.”

She sighed, defeated. “Yeah.”

“Something you want to tell me?”

She leaned her head on her hand. “I walked in on them in bed together.”

He stared at her. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.”

“He cheated on you? Fucking bastard.” His voice rose.

She gave a short laugh, followed by another sigh. “It was already over–we just hadn’t said the words. We haven’t slept together for weeks. Doesn’t mean it hurts any less, of course, but that’s the truth. I asked them not to tell anyone until after the wedding. I knew it would upset Lisette, and Tristan would go all caveman on me and threaten to stuff Andy’s head down the toilet or something.” She shrugged. “It’s done. Pointless to cry over spilt milk.”

Chapter

4

Kit studied her. She looked sad but resigned. “Why was it over?”

Her beautiful green eyes met his for a moment, and then she shrugged and looked away.

“Oh no,” he said. “You don’t get away with it that easily. Come on, you obviously haven’t talked to anyone since then. Tell me what happened.”

They looked up as the barman approached with their drinks, and they accepted the tumblers with the amber liquid. Kit held his up to her. “To new beginnings.”

He’d actually meant it in terms of her breakup, but when she raised her gaze to his, his heart missed a beat, and he was suddenly speechless. She was so gorgeous. Her refined hairstyle had almost collapsed and red curls framed her pale face. Her hair was the most amazing color–not ginger, nothing like that harsh orange tone, but a lovely red-gold that shone in the low lamp light. “New beginnings,” she whispered, and sipped her whisky. Then she pulled a face. “Oh, gross.”