Cross the Line
Part Fifteen

As she was leaving the dance floor, the DJ announced the final song. It had been a long and bizarre day, not one she wanted to repeat in a hurry, and she was looking forward to resting, Naomi was physically and emotionally shattered. But her path was blocked by Conor. Groaning as he pulled her back on to the dance floor, she virtually collapsed against him. His strong arms held her up and he hummed against her hair.

“You ok?” he asked his mouth close to her ear.

She nodded, not telling his how dreadful she felt, “tired. I’m angry too that you seem to think everything is ok because you’ve changed your mind. You can’t throw the L-bomb around like that without screwing with someone’s mind!”

“Sorry Naomi, I know today’s been hell. I promise we can talk tomorrow. Ok? Do you want to head up to bed? It’s almost midnight!” There was an earnest quality to his voice, but Naomi had had enough.

Disappointed that he didn’t re-declare his love for her here, with intention or purpose, she had to settle for the indirect possibly drunken whisper and wonder just how sincere it was. And where did that leave her? Love...it was a word that meant so much to her, hell, it was far more than a word. She imagined the man who’d say that to her would be the man she loved, the man she married. Instead she had Conor, or did she ‘have’ him? She had no proprietorial rights over him. He’d been married before, and had his heart broken before. Did that mean that love was such an easy thing for him to profess? Maybe since he’d been hurt it meant nothing and he’d do and say what he needed to get her where he wanted her? She didn’t want to think that of Conor, but to her love meant everything, and she couldn’t help but balk at the way he’d so casually tossed the comment at her.

Too tired to fathom it out, and also unable to resist the thought of sleep, she allowed him to lead her out of the ballroom, bidding their good nights to all they passed.

In the room there was an awkward moment. Naomi had changed into her pyjamas, and coming out of the bathroom spotted Conor already in bed. Pulling back the duvet he patted the mattress beside him.

“I’ll behave, I promise.”

Gratefully she slid into the bed and sighed as she relaxed, finally comfortable.

Naomi had no idea what time it was when she woke up. Reaching for the side table, her fingers closed around Conor’s stylish yet heavy Rolex. Pressing the side switch a light lit the silver face and told her it was almost nine am.

Rolling back on to the pillow she sighed.

“What time is it?” Conor groaned from her right. Then groaned again when she told him. “Damn! Are we about to miss breakfast again?”

He rolled over to look at her, “I haven’t had a lie-in in years! You are either a very bad or a very good influence on me. I haven’t worked it out yet!”

Sighing she pulled herself into sitting, “I wouldn’t like to say! I’m just going to take a shower.”

Conor opened his mouth to suggest it was a good idea and join her, but her silent glare caused him to slump back down onto the bed. He was lost. At some point the previous day he had realised that this meant everything to him, she was starting to mean everything to him. It signalled that he had finally started to deal with his demons, and admit that Naomi may just about be the best thing that had happened to him. But she wasn’t responding to his change of plan, he’d thought she wanted him, that a commitment was everything. Now he realised it was an empty gesture. He had to replace some way of showing her how serious he was. But how?

Naomi scrubbed herself for longer than was necessary angry that he hadn’t burst in after her, but also relieved that she hadn’t had to fight with him over that. Dragging a comb through her hair, she’d pulled on the complimentary robe before she felt ready to face him again.

When she emerged he was stooped tying the laces of his walking boots, “how long do you need? Breakfast has finished, but Patrick had assured me there’s a cafe a few miles away. I want to show you something, and it’s on the way.”

Naomi sat on the bed and plugged in the hairdryer, “ten minutes?”

He nodded, “I’m going to go and replace the hire car, can you meet me in the reception? I’ll give you fifteen minutes.”

They drove through winding country roads; all the way, Conor pointed out places and linked them to various childhood antics. It was rugged yet beautiful countryside and she couldn’t fail to be fired with Conor’s enthusiasm. They pulled into a small village, and Conor abandoned rather than parked the vehicle at the side of the road.

The cafe was more of a tea shop, but as it was the middle point of mass being held in the church opposite, it was empty. Sitting in the window, Naomi reached for a menu.

“Mmm, a bagel with salmon and cream cheese and a coffee por favour senor!” She asked snapping shut the menu.

Nodding, Conor made for the counter and ordered, and then joined her at the table.

“So where are you taking me?” She asked as they stood and gathered their things to leave the cafe.

He was quiet and contemplative for a while, but then finally spoke as he slid his fingers through hers and led her along the narrow village lane. “You’ll see. You want to know me, want us to start trusting each other, so I wanted to show you somewhere...something that is...well I’d say pivotal to me.” His voice was quiet, “the thought of you going yesterday, walking away from me gave me a reality check. I’ve been alone for a long time, and it’s hard to think about letting someone in. But I want to try,” he stopped and she turned to look at him, there was a look of honesty within his eyes, a look she’d not seen before.

With that he led her towards the church, and it was only as he stopped under a silver birch that she spotted the small row of gravestones, each adorned with various images of toys or cartoons characters. It was a children’s cemetery, and he’d stopped in front of the one engraved with the name Thomas O’Neill.

Naomi gulped, a sudden lump of emotion in her throat. Looking up she saw the raw emotion, the pain that was still fresh coursing over his face.

“I don’t know what hurt more, Orla ignoring him, me not being the father, or being helpless to take his pain away. When they said I couldn’t possibly be the father I felt numb, my world was over, but he still looked at me with the same dependence. It was then I knew it didn’t matter. He needed someone, and that bitch of a mother wasn’t there. So I stayed and talked to him, held him, loved him with all my heart. And then it was too much for him, there was nothing more I could do. Nothing anyone could do.” He snatched at a stray tear that exposed the devastation he still felt at those torturous days. “When he died...part of me changed. I was harder, distant.”

He dropped her hand, then squatted to clear the weeds that covered the base of the headstone. Then he turned to look up at her, squinting against the sun, “I realise now that I had more connection with him than his own mother did, so what does a biological link mean anyway? It still hurts that she duped me, used me...but having him for the few days I did was a gift. And I finally really do see that. I’ve never brought anyone here because it hurt too much, but I’m so glad that you’ve seen, he was a little star, and maybe I was wrong to run away when he died, he doesn’t deserve to be hidden, does he?”

Naomi had tears in her eyes as she held out a hand for him and he pulled himself up to stand in front of her. She was overwhelmed by this step into the private and personal psyche of Conor that words failed her; all she could do was nod and pull him close.

They were both silent, lost in their thoughts as they made their way back to the castle. Naomi didn’t know what she thought, but she knew that this was a huge offer of commitment from Conor; this was him showing her that he trusted her. And it also made her realise that Orla would never occupy a place in his heart again, she was amazed he’d tolerated her appearance as much as he had. It felt good, but Naomi was still a little sceptical. She’d learned the hard way that all was rarely as it seemed.

As he parked the car, he turned to her, “so...there’s another party tonight...then there’s the spa...”

She’d never seen the cocky Conor so unsure. Smiling she finally took his hand, “I’m thinking a swim...then maybe a massage?”

He nodded enthusiastically, “I’ll book it now.”

Heading into the room she tossed the words, “I meant from YOU!” over her shoulder, offering him the olive branch he’d been looking for.

True to his word, Conor kept his distance, his desire for her was obvious, but he was holding back, eager and earnest, yet waiting for a sign from her. But outwardly, to all who observed he was a doting partner, showering her with affection. So they swam in the pool then lounged in the hot tub, where they were joined by Patrick and Lucinda who were also leaving the next morning.

“Do you want to meet for dinner this evening?” Patrick asked. “We’ll be going home tomorrow, and if life is normal for us both we won’t see each other for ages.”

Conor nodded, “that sounds like a great plan.”

So they all arranged to meet at seven for a meal in the restaurant prior to the party that his family had planned for that evening. Heading back to their room, still in their robes, Conor disappeared into the shower.

When he emerged, Naomi was lying face down on the bed, naked bar the small towel that covered her bare bottom. His eyes flared and Naomi smiled knowingly to herself. Seeing the question in his eyes, she smiled, “someone promised a massage?”

Conor groaned, aware that his obvious arousal at the sight of her was more than evident. He’d long lost control of this situation, and that was hard for him to endure. The fact was he wanted her was without question, but he also knew that good things came to those who waited. But at that moment, waiting was the furthest thing from his mind.

“Massage?” he croaked, “ok!”

Climbing on to the bed, he sat astride her, his knees nestled beside her hips. She’d laid a bottle of oil out on the side table, and reaching for it he spread it on his hands, warming it between his palms. When he touched her skin, he lost his breath; it was such an erotic sensation.

The laugh had immediately been zapped out of Naomi, this was meant to be a punishment for him, a torturous experience, instead his warm, long fingers were like a breath caressing her skin, and her whole being zoned in to the path of his hands. This had well and truly backfired on her. As her heart raced, heat swirled through her body, desire causing a throb in her pelvis. The attraction of this man couldn’t be denied. His hands ran over her shoulders, then down her trunk, his long fingers, just brushing the swell of her breast. An involuntary moan escaped her lips at that slight, almost contact, and she fought the urge to roll over, to offer his body to his talented hands. She didn’t. Naomi wriggled against him and was rewarded with a similar groan from him, his hardness only growing against her buttocks. It was having the same effect on him.

Seeing her burying her face in the pillows to hide her expression, Conor gave a growl like chuckle, he was glad he wasn’t the only one burning up. Sat astride her trying to concentrate on a massage was taking every ounce of his control and will power. His mind was racing to all sorts of scenarios and he had to think very stern thoughts to keep his mind on the task.

Once he’d reached her lower back and softened the tense muscles to the best of his decidedly amateur ability, he jumped off the bed and dashed to the bathroom. Naomi was in some sort of mid heaven zone, her body tingled with anticipation, but she was also more relaxed than she’d felt in a long time. The sudden loss of the weight on her hips caused her to turn, to watch him almost run across the room. As the sound of the shower jets kicked in, she knew this was no hot shower. Smiling to herself, she reluctantly slid to her feet and wrapped a towel around herself. In this Freudian World of dating and love, she was enjoying the cat and mouse games. But life wasn’t a game, and she knew that today’s revelation was an attempt to make her believe that he was serious about her. She just had to fight that nagging voice in the back of her head that warned her that nothing was ever as it seemed!

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