Cross the Line
Part Nine

Naomi let Conor lead her out into the adjacent room that housed what had been called a buffet, but was in fact an amazing smorgasbord of whole fish, carved meats, salads...a true feast. She had a moderate plate full, but the nerves that had plagued her the whole day had destroyed any significant appetite.

There was a slight awkwardness between them suddenly, and Naomi wished he’d never kissed her on the dance floor, well not for that reason anyway. They’d come to Ireland as friends, and the kiss had crossed that line, she only hoped that they could salvage the weekend before it all spiralled out of control. The worst thing was, she had wanted to kiss him, and had enjoyed it. But his sudden cold shoulder both angered and insulted her. Sighing she carried her food back into the ballroom, and as he directed her towards a table, she spotted a man waving frantically in their direction, a beaming smile on his face.

“Friend of yours?” she asked over her shoulder.

The pressure of his hand on her spine eased as he gasped, “well well, if it isn’t Patrick Kelly!” The other man was now standing and striding towards them, and Naomi was stunned to see that he was taller than Conor, who was taller than most, his blonde shoulder length hair pulled back into a ponytail. A lithe Asian woman stood up next to him and the three people hugged each other before Conor finally remembered she was there

“Sorry, Naomi, this is my oldest friend, Patrick Kelly who told me last week that he couldn’t possibly leave Los Angeles and his high powered job as a film producer to come to this wedding. And this is his wife Lucinda, guys, this is Naomi.” They all exchanged handshake greetings, as Conor shook his head, “Kelly, when are you going to stop telling me lies, I was gutted you weren’t coming back. You told me the world of movie producing couldn’t survive without you!”

He sighed as all four sat down together, “well work things changed...and I would never miss an O’Neill wedding by choice!” There was a moment where the two men were communicating non-verbally and that confused Naomi for a moment.

Conor looked at his friend knowingly and started to laugh, “Ahh! Who told you?”

Patrick chuckled, “I won’t lie, I did call Michael and heard that you were bringing a companion...one I knew NOTHING about!” Naomi blushed as she realised she was the topic of discussion and subterfuge, and Conor felt that tug of protectiveness pull at him again. Reaching out he ensnared her reluctant hand in his and squeezed it, before they rearranged their seating to make room for the friends.

As they sat, ate and made general conversation, various people joined them or interrupted to speak to Patrick or more frequently Conor. And they were also so obviously close, in a way that he wasn’t with his siblings, dropping into old jokes and conversations that both Naomi and Lucinda had no part, so instead the women discussed life in LA, the world of law, and Lucinda’s home town of San Diego, a long way from Naomi’s own home town.

“So can I have the pleasure of this dance?” a voice dragged Naomi from the conversation to see Patrick stood with a hand out stretched. Smiling she stood and allowed him to lead her on to the dance floor. Taking her in to a waltz hold, he grinned, “had to get you away from the old ‘Con artist’! He’d watch me like a hawk if I talk to you in front of him, now I get to share all his embarrassing stories.”

She chuckled, “well I think you’ll replace Máire and Sinéad beat you to that earlier.”

He threw back his head and laughed, “au contraire! What family know, and what friends know are two very separate things!”

Swirling her around, cutting between the other dancing couples expertly, she marvelled at his skills, “so you and Conor are kind of celebs around here.”

“Not far short Naomi, we were the first sons to both move out of our village, and the first to marry outside of the ‘vicinity’, though Orla’s family are hardly strangers!” He sighed, “We’re seen as rebels...and I think a lot of the youngsters aspire to do what we did. Though going to London or Birmingham to University is no real big deal, when you’re here in this world it seems a million miles away, you know?”

She nodded, “he doesn’t mention his wife.”

Patrick smiled as though he completely expected this thread of conversation, “It was a hard time for him. You are the first woman he’s introduced to me, let alone the family. His bringing you here is a big thing. His mother has been so worried, without loading too much on your shoulders; she’s seeing you as his therapy.”

Naomi winced, “no pressure then?” She wished she knew more about why his marriage failed, but any attempt to discuss it had been met with a stone wall defence.

He shook his head, “only the whole O’Neill dynasty!”

They’d hardly danced a dozen more steps than a hand tapped Patrick’s shoulder, “May I step in?”

Patrick handed Naomi over to Conor with a theatrical bow. Naomi met Conor’s eyes and smiled, she couldn’t be angry with him for long. Wrapping her closely to him, his hands pressuring her bare shoulder and the centre of her spine, and she relaxed into the embrace with a sigh.

As she leaned into him, his chin rested on her head, “sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. You’ve every right to be angry with me.”

She leaned back in his arms, to look up at him, “there was nothing wrong with the kiss, it had the desired effect.” There was a definite lack of warmth in her voice as she searched his face for the slightest hint of guilt.

Instead, he nodded in agreement and pulled her back close to him.

Naomi heard the groan escaping her lips and was torn between her anger at his lack of tact, and the desire and excitement his proximity was causing. She’d thrown that comment at him hoping for a reaction, the lack of a response was frustrating beyond belief. The wriggle of her body against his was involuntary, but the pressure of his hard body seemed to feed her hunger a little. Her tender breasts were crushed against his hard chest; every inch of her betrayed her plans to remain aloof, distant. Then she felt his lips on her forehead, brushing her hairline, and a soft moan escaped his lips, caressing her skin. In that moment she knew that this was no public display for the benefit of the audience, this was Conor confused, unsure of what he wanted. As if to reiterate the point, his hands on her bottom pulled her pelvis into his, and pressed his rather impressive erection into her soft stomach.

The music was quite sultry, and they swayed together, neither speaking, the tension too great. Both knowing that they couldn’t separate at the moment.

Eventually Conor pulled slightly away from her, “it’s late. We’ve had a long day, and an early start. Shall we head back to the room? Get some sleep?”

Naomi nodded, still dazed from the prolonged time wrapped up in his arms, and allowed him to lead her discreetly across the room. They’d just made it to the reception and were about to take the stairs that started the walk back to their room, when a voice stopped them, or rather stopped Conor.

“Conor?”

Naomi could tell by the way he froze that this wasn’t about to be a good confrontation, his whole body stiffened and it was a long few seconds before he turned to face the middle aged man stood smiling at him.

“Declan!” Conor inclined his head politely before stepping towards the man and shaking his hand. “How are you?” After they shook hands, he remembered Naomi and briefly introduced them. “Naomi, this is Declan, my...ex-father in law I suppose,” he half laughed as Naomi shook hands with the man.

“You’re looking well,” Declan offered.

Conor nodded, “it took time, but, life is good.” At that moment he smiled down at Naomi hinting that she was the reason for that, and she felt the blood start to pound in her head. How could one man ignite her so rapidly with just a glance?

She missed the rest of the forced pleasantries her mind was in a different place, but Conor’s mood had changed dramatically again by the time they turned back to make for the room. He was a like a walking time bomb, he had more moods and emotions than a teenager in puberty...she shook her head, that wasn’t true, he’d been calm and relaxed since she’d met him, it was the complication of family and the past that was affecting him. And that turned some of her anger to sympathy, she missed her parents every day, and would give anything for one more day, even a day of fighting, and there had been lots of those!

It was gone two am when they finally found their room tucked away in a turret. Exhausted, she changed into new pyjamas and gratefully cleaned her teeth, before emerging from the bathroom. It was a positively sinful room, romance and passion emitted from every inch of the exposed brick walls, four poster bed, open fire, that had been lit to a gentle warm heat, and the luxurious yet dramatic red bedding. Conor was sat in an arm chair, the black look on his face illuminated by the fire, drinking a whisky in just his trousers, his broad, hair smattered bare chest reflecting the fire light.

Glancing up, he held his breath as he took in her vest and shorts, hair scraped back into a pony tail, face scrubbed clean of makeup. She never failed to amaze him with the multiple facets of her appearance and personality, she looked all of fifteen now, as she held her hand out for his whisky and took a slug from his glass. Every facet of the sophisticated woman he’d waltzed and impressed with all evening replaced by this fresh faced almost child.

“I enjoyed tonight Conor!” She sat opposite him, eyeballing him in the same appreciative way that he’d viewed her, he looked divine in that dinner suit...but out of it, he looked even better. The silent ‘despite the kiss’ she knew sat between them, but she was too tired, too fraught to deal with anything now.

“So did I!” he stood and looked down at her for a moment, before turning and heading into the bathroom.

When he emerged she was tucked into bed, the covers next to her thrown back invitingly, but he headed to the sofa.

“Conor! It’s fine. Share the bed with me! This room I’m sure wasn’t cheap, so don’t waste your time and money by sleeping on an old uncomfortable and too small settee. We’re adults aren’t we?” As she said it Naomi didn't know whether she beleived it or not. But she couldn't see him on the sofa, and this bed was huge!

“Are you sure?” everything in his body screamed to ignore her, to play it safe, to keep away. Like her, his emotions were fraught, it had been a good night, but it hadn’t come without its problems.

When she nodded, he turned off the lights and headed towards the bed.