Cross the Line
Part Eight

Naomi was nervous as the cab pulled up at the airport. But there outside the departure hall was Conor looking devastating in dark jeans and a pale grey thin knitted jumper, his leather jacket dumped on the bag at his feet, he was nervously looking at his watch when she jumped out of the car in front of him.

“Did you think I wasn’t coming?” She asked with a grin.

The relief on his face spoke volumes, “I did begin to wonder to what lengths I could realistically expect you to go to just to help me out!”

She looked at him for a few seconds before heading into the airport, throwing the comment, “I couldn’t stay home with all these new.....clothes to wear!” flirtatiously over her shoulder.

He laughed out loud before following her into the terminal, the spring of anticipation added to his step.

The flight was quick, just over an hour, and he’d hired a sleek sports car to drive for the weekend. It was a battle to fit suit bags and boxes into the tiny boot, but they managed it, just. Lowering herself into the deep passenger seat, she smiled at him, “I’ve not been to Ireland before, so I expect a running commentary, all the way!”

He was at home on the roads of Ireland, and as the urban city gave way to country scenery, he visibly relaxed, but as requested he pointed out villages, sights and any important things as they zoomed along.

“Am I here as your girlfriend? Or just a business associate?” She finally plucked up the courage to ask. She’d wondered all week what role she had in this, was she here to fill the place of a lover, or just as a smokescreen, a deterrent for any amorous or expectant women by being on his arm for the event.

“More girlfriend than colleague if that’s ok?” he sighed, “and that I’m afraid does mean we’re sharing a room. I couldn’t get two rooms as the place is full, but also it’s more realistic. Michael called last night warning me that the Leary’s were coming. Honestly they give the Bennett’s from Pride and Prejudice a run for their money. Five girls, all with their sights on me...and Seamus and maybe even Liam!”

She nodded, “so I’m heading into the baptism of fire on the arms of the most eligible man in Ireland!”

He turned to her briefly, “I’m not trying to sound boastful over this, it’s just I’m a financially independent male, from a respected Catholic family. My status is what’s desired.”

“You’re hardly Quasimodo, there are worse available men out there than you, I’m sure.”

Laughing he raised an eyebrow, “A compliment? Thank you! I think!! But seriously, there is something that you don’t know, that may come up in conversation; I don’t want you to be wrong footed.”

She looked up at him, and he slowed to the side of the road, “you know I was married, well we split three years ago...there may be some members of her family there, Orla’s that is, I’m not sure. That might be...awkward. It was made quite obvious last time I was home that people seem to think three years is long enough to get over my grief and start looking for love!” he sounded so sceptical that it sent a shiver down her spine.

“And are you?” it was such a weighted question and she dreaded the answer.

“Not with anyone that’s selected for me!” It was as neutral as she could hope for, thought she denied to herself that she personally cared what he wanted.

She laughed trying to lighten the mood, “I thought arranged marriages only happened in other cultures!”

He spun the car back out into traffic, “tell me about it!”

“What was she like your wife?” They’d travelled a few more miles before she asked the question. And it was met with a dramatic pause.

He was silent for a while, “she was funny, outgoing. The life and soul of every party. Everyone loved her...and that was the problem!” He turned the radio up and Indie music filled the car. Naomi was glad, realising that she didn’t want to hear anymore about Conor’s wife.

The castle was imposing, sat on a hill above the village that they crawled through behind two tractors. At the top of the driveway they swung into a large gravel car park. A liveried butler met them and took them through winding corridors to their turret room.

“It’s a very difficult place to orientate yourself here, use the phone and call reception when you’re ready and someone will come to escort you to the ballroom.” Was the instruction as the man disappeared into the distance.

Conor nodded, before following heading into the room. She stopped in the doorway, taking in the grandeur of the room. The original stone walls, the four poster bed with a rich red and gold brocade cover, the open fire, the narrow turret windows.

“As I said in the car, my only oversight is the sharing a room thing. I’ll take the sofa,” he gestured to the Chesterfield sofa near the fire.

She swung her overnight bag up onto the bed, “I’m sure you are capable of sharing a bed without attacking the person you’re sleeping with. It’ll be fine! Now we need to dress for this trip to the ballroom!”

The fact that the room was a romantic paradise was incidental, she couldn’t expect him to take the sofa, but she hoped, rather than knew that they both had enough willpower to lie next to each other without...she shook her head, she wasn’t even going to think about what could happen!

Needing a breather, she took the bathroom emerging with her hair and makeup done, in a dressing gown, “I’ll be five minutes, think you are up to it?”

“Shower and change is all I need!” He passed her and headed into the steam filled bathroom.

When he came out fifteen minutes later, he was dressed in his crisp white shirt and snugly fitting inky black trousers, glancing up though he froze and was floored. Naomi was applying lip gloss in the full length mirror; the strapless red dress hugged her breasts, then fell in folds of scarlet satin to the floor. It rustled as she moved, yet clung to her perfect figure. It had looked wonderful on her in the shop, but here with her hair piled up, a simple chain adorning that elegant neck, and red heels that screamed a message straight to his groin she was simply the personification of perfection.

“Wow!” Was all he could manage. She turned to his voice smiling, and literally took his breath away. Suddenly all the hassle was worth it, she was devastatingly beautiful, and no one would dare approach him whilst she was at his side.

“You like?” she asked spinning around.

It took him a few moments to answer her, wrestling with his inner self, trying desperately to keep his ever more wayward libido on track, “you look sensational!”

“You don’t look too bad either!” she handed him his jacket. “We should get going, it’s nine o’clock, everyone’ll be winding up if we don’t hurry!” As he struggled with his bow tie, she moved his hands and expertly tied the knot.

Hard as it was to concentrate with her gentle hands touching his throat, he managed to get out his words, maintain the conversation, “You obviously have not been to an O’Neill wedding before! It won’t warm up until midnight!”

As directed they called reception and were escorted along intricate corridors to the grandeur of the ballroom, and as the doors opened to allow them in, a hundred and fifty pairs of eyes swept to stare at them. Naomi tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and allowed him to lead her into the melee that was his family.

The room was beautiful, ornate architraves led to decorative ceilings and embossed roses around the large chandeliers. It was breathtaking. Dozens of people were milling around, talking. A band played in the background, but no one was dancing as yet. A woman, who Naomi immediately presumed was Conor’s mother, came gushing across the room. She had grey hair swept up into a French pleat, a sliver grey long dress that wafted to the floor, and such a kind face, and a smile that showed how much she loved her oldest child.

“Conor!” her voice was a soft Irish lilt. “You’ve finally arrived!”

She fell into the embrace of her son, “hi Mama!” He hugged her for a long moment, then held her at arm’s length and smiled, “I’d like you to meet Naomi! Naomi, this is my mother Niamh.”

The older woman stepped back to look at Naomi, then smiled a warm gesture as she shook her hand, “nice to meet you.” She turned back to Conor, “son you’ve done well for yourself! Now can I get you both a drink?” She gestured at a waiter who delivered glasses of champagne.

As Naomi took the glass offered, Niamh leaned in and whispered, “I’m SO glad Conor brought you home, I’ve heard a lot about you over the last few weeks. He NEVER brings anyone home to meet his old Ma!” Her lilting voice was almost hypnotic, and Naomi instantly warmed to her. “Now come with me, leave the O’Neill boys to catch up with each other. I’d love to have a nice chat with you.”

The request could have been intimidating, threatening even, but it wasn’t, it was accompanied by genuine interest and a natural smile. Niamh led her through the throng of people to a table at the back of the room, Naomi glanced back at Conor briefly but he gave her an encouraging smile and was then buried under an enthusiastic hug from two men, she presumed were brothers.

“Come and meet the O’Neill ladies!” Niamh grinned, directing her to a seat. “These are my daughters...” Máire and Sinéad, the two women stood and shook her hand, Naomi smiled appropriately, and was then thrust headlong into stories of a young Conor. Naomi noted with irony that both girls were older than her, yet being ‘with’ Conor seemed to give her some sort of authority within the family hierarchy.

She’d had several glasses of champagne and heard an unbelievable amount of stories ranging from his reaction to Máire’s first boyfriend, at seventeen he’d felt completely responsible for the fourteen year old girl and the apparent loser she’d brought home, to goofy dances with his grandmother, a regular family occasion occurrence until the death of the ninety three year old a few years earlier. None of the stories were particularly flattering, but the respect and love they all had for this big man was so blatant in everything they said.

When Niamh was called away by a neighbour, Sinéad leaned in and whispered, “sorry if my mother is a little pushy, Con’s the apple of her eye and his unhappiness the last few years has almost killed her. Since Pa died, he’s all she seems to live for!”

Naomi slumped back in her seat, she had no idea his father was dead, he’d spoke collectively of his family, but she’d had no hint that he’d lost his father too. He’d been so supportive about her losing parents, and yet he’d carried his own burden. She’d lost focus as she tried to fathom all that she’d heard.

“Have you two finished ragging me out?” The sound of Conor’s voice caused Naomi’s body to erupt in goose bumps, there was such familiarity, such promise in that voice, not to mention the fact that she needed a break from the intensity of his family. As friendly and accommodating that they were, Naomi was overwhelmed with everything that had bombarded her since arriving at the castle. She needed a little break, desperately.

Glancing up she smiled, he was a gorgeous looking man, the four glasses of champagne had helped her relax, and now she was seeing Conor in a new light.

He on the other hand had been caught up with all and sundry since arriving and felt very neglectful that it had been so long since he’d last seen her. She looked so demure sat between his two fiery sisters, as he’d approached she’d been giggling at something they were saying. As he’d known, she’d slotted in to his World with such ease.

Smiling at her, he held out a hand, “I’ve neglected you sweetheart, come with me and meet my brothers!”

Taking his hand she bade a farewell to his sisters, then allowed him to lead her across the room, “sweetheart?” she murmured.

Conor paused and turned to her with a grin, “I’m hardly going to refer to you as gopher in front of the family, am I?”

Naomi laughed, “I think I’m going to like seeing Gloria’s reaction to that on Monday!”

Shaking his head he reached out and cupped her chin, “and when did you get so...sassy?” She almost melted as those eyes gazed into hers, the all seeing eyes stripping her bare.

Squeezing the hand that was still linked with hers, she snipped a quick reply, “since I know EVERYTHING about your past!” Then she flashed him a smile that wiped out every ounce of his defence. Groaning he led her towards the bar, and his three brothers, beginning to realise for the first time he’d gone in over his head, way over his head.

Liam was the image of Conor only many years younger, obviously. He had the same dark hair, blue eyes and dazzling smile, Michael the groom was more like the girls, pale freckled skin and red hair. Both pulled her into overzealous hugs, nearly squeezing the air from her lungs.

“Where’s Seamus?” Conor asked, “I leave for one second and he’s bloody disappeared! That’s typical of him, isn’t it?”

Suddenly the missing sibling appeared, another beautiful and charming man, complete with the two brothers-in-law Martin and David. As she shook hands and smiled, she realised she was becoming swamped by the amount of names and faces, and was only glad that the nieces and nephews were all tucked up in bed.

Rescuing her when she looked baffled and a little frazzled, Conor spirited her away. As they reached the bar at the back of the room she took a deep breath, and he laughed, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “sorry I forget how intense they can be!”

“At least they’re friendly. But there are so many names to remember...” giving a smile she added, “I do like them all SO much though!”

Conor grinned, “I’m glad, they all seem taken with you too!”

She laughed, “Ah! Are you saying there’s no pressure on me now? Have I passed the test? I’m good enough for the Golden Boy of the family?”

Offering her the soft drink she’d requested, he groaned, “I assure you the pressure hits me too!” Spotting his mother heading towards them leading a group of women, he grabbed her, “my mother and the ‘Village Elders’ are on their way, do you want to dance? It’ll probably be the safest place for you! For us.”

She looked towards the empty dance floor, “baptism of fire take two it is then?”

“They’ll all start dancing as soon as we start, and then the food’ll be served in an hour or so, then we can hide!”

Nodding and giving a graceful smile, she accepted his hand and allowed him to lead her into the centre of the room. The band seeing them suddenly increased the volume of their music, and started to play more enthusiastically. He pulled her into his arms, linking them behind her back, she settled back into his embrace, resting hers on the front of his shoulders.

“Ok?” he asked, trying to ignore the way his heart pounded as her body moved over his.

“I’m just going to keep looking at you, if I look anywhere else there are a hundred eyes on me! I’m surprisingly nervous; you could have warned me that you were such a celeb! I’m starting to realise how Posh Spice feels. All we need is a few dozen cameras and I’ll be feeling like a diva!”

He smiled, “it might be nothing to do with being with me, it could be that you are the most beautiful person in the room, they may stare wherever you were?” Conor realised he did mean that, she was by far the most beautiful person in the room.

She shook her head, “no, it’s because I’m with Golden Balls! In fact...I think Gloria’s going to love that nickname come Monday.” She tried to joke to hide the fact that her body was almost ignited by its touch against his. This was an almost exquisitely painful contact, but one she didn’t want to lose.

He laughed out loud, “You are one crazy lady!” tugging her closer, her hands swung up to his neck. “Thanks for tonight. Actually for the whole weekend, this means a lot to me.” The last part came out as a groan, he could feel her firm breasts pressed against his chest and the sensation was more than he could cope with.

“Excuse me Mr O’Neill, we are supposed to be boss and employee, we argue everyday and both of us have dreadful mood swings. If you keep being nice to me then I may expect that sort of treatment all the time.”

Conor nodded knowingly, “I guessed there’d be some sort of reimbursement expected!”

His eyes twinkled, and he’d never felt such affection for someone as he did at that moment. Before he even registered his actions, he’d lowered his head and kissed her gently on the lips. It wasn’t a long kiss, but he felt her melt into him. She was right, all eyes were on them, and suddenly he appreciated this delicate and vulnerable yet infinitely strong woman who was relaxed in his arms. Then his mind flashed back to the last woman he’d held like that...Orla.

Naomi on the other hand was confused; the kiss had only fanned the flames of desire in her, despite its brevity. But as she started to respond, to look at Conor with warmth, heat and longing he seemed to return a real cold shoulder. Suddenly he’d distanced from her, despite her being in his arms, draped against his body as they swayed to the music, his eyes were looking above her head to somewhere, someone other than at her. Like a smack to the head, she realised, that the kiss was for the watchers, a display, and it made her angry. He wasn’t going to get away with being so callous, if anything, he’d thrown down a gauntlet, a challenge.

By now the dance floor was occupied by a dozen couples. To avoid her eyes, to avoid dealing with the fact that he’d enjoyed the kiss more than he felt comfortable with, Conor pulled Naomi closer. Instantly she stared to nuzzle his neck and he regretted his actions immediately, all of them! Her gentle breath was causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. All of a sudden he could think of nothing but her mouth millimetres from his skin. The same mouth that had teased with his in that brief kiss only seconds earlier. He was almost embarrassed as he felt himself harden. He moved himself so she wouldn’t tell, to protect his pride.

He’d never been so glad to hear a voice disturb the room as the host announced that food was about to be served. As Conor pulled away, he took her hand and offered, “come on, I’m hungry.” She stood fast forcing him to turn around and look at her.

“I know!” She gave him her most suggestive smile, “I could feel it!” He blushed! She actually saw him blush! Giggling, she followed him back to their table; suddenly she was far less stressed about the evening. She’d not let Conor give her mixed signals, she didn’t know why he’d turned so cold, so quickly, but Naomi knew that his body may have just betrayed him, and she wasn’t going to go easy on him.

Let the fun begin!