Cross the Line - 13

Chapter 13 

Naomi felt as though the rug had been pulled from under her as she watched the two people smooching and hugging in a bordering on obscene way. Her heart was racing, but each breath brought a searing pain to her chest. Even if she was only there as a front, as a fake girlfriend, she didn’t deserve the piteous looks from family, friends, or to be the subject of the awkward tension that had descended over the ballroom.

Nodding in an enigmatic way, she walked back out of the door. The air had cooled suddenly, almost as though nature had picked up on the awkwardness of everything and she shivered slightly as she made her way down from the terrace to the path that led to the reception, she couldn’t face going back in there. It was late, she knew she couldn’t get away, not this evening, but she’d leave the castle as soon as she feasibly could.

Like a naughty schoolgirl, she skulked back to her room trying to be as invisible as she could. But a few pitiful eyes did cast a glance at her. In the room she slumped onto the bed. She had two options, to try and leave now, or book a separate room and then get out as soon as she could in the morning.

But it was back to the drawing board as she stood at the desk being told by the receptionist that the castle was full, there were no spare rooms. Suddenly it was all too much and she felt exhaustion take over her.

                “Can I help at all?”It was Patrick, looking charming and smiling beside her.

                “I need to get to the airport.”

He sighed, “I shouldn’t...”

She looked at him pleadingly, “I can’t get a room for myself, and this lovely lady,” she nodded in the direction of the decidedly jobsworth receptionist, “has informed me I won’t get a taxi before tomorrow morning.”

                “What are you running from?” his gaze was intense and there was a certain innocence in his question.

Naomi shrugged, “Take your pick, being ritualistically humiliated? A disastrous date? Hell, I’ve just realised this is a mistake.”

He shook his head, “you both look good together, happy, natural. I’ve never seen Con so relaxed.”

                “Were you just in that room?” She shook her head in amazement. “Look! Can you drive me to the airport?” She was angry now, he wasn’t listening to anything she was saying, he wasn’t thinking of the embarrassment she’d suffered, how Conor was draped around his ex-wife. It was all so ugly, and painful.

He shrugged, “if that’s where you want to go. If you’re sure?”

She nodded, “I’ve never been more sure. I need to go now.”

He ignored the signs of the tears that had earlier ravaged her face. Opening the door to his car for her, he waited until she was sat before crossing to the driver door and sliding in next to her; he turned to Naomi and said, “Conor asked me to take you wherever you wanted to go. He doesn’t want to see you stranded.”

She froze for a moment, then taking a deep breath she turned to him slowly, “You kid yourself that he’s THAT considerate! The man is an egotistical bastard and to be totally honest, at this moment I hate him!”

Patrick’s smile oozed sarcasm, “It didn’t look like that from where I was standing.”

She shrugged, “looks can be deceiving. And to be honest things change. He’s like Jekyll and Hyde, one minute a gentleman, the next a monster. I’m here to help him out, and he can’t even be bothered to organise what happens to me himself, he sends his lackey!”

Sighing he offered a wry grin, “Conor is one of the most genuine and decent people I know, if you want to slate him then you’ll have to have evidence to back it up I’m afraid.”

                “What does it matter? I just want to go home.” All the fight had gone from her, she couldn’t be bothered to even question his loyalty to a man who’d behave the way he had.

“Last night, and today you two looked besotted, I haven’t seen him so happy in years.”

                “He’s only besotted with himself Patrick. He used me, took advantage, just as he always has.”

               

Patrick turned in the seat to look at her, “he has never brought another woman home here since his divorce, he’s endured the family’s sympathy, matchmaking, everything. If he was just interested in using someone, he’d have done this before. Why don’t you just talk to him?”

She shrugged, “Talk? Well he’d have to get out of that bubble of denial he lives in first...oh and disengage his body from that of his modelesque ex-wife! Have you any idea how hard it is to see them like that?”

                “He’s not very good with emotions and relationships, he’d put so much into his marriage. How he survived I’ll never know.”

                “Survived what?”

                “Hasn’t he told you about Orla? About all that happened?”

Naomi shrugged, “he only tells me what he feels I need to know, so I know he was married, it ended. That’s about it.”

                “God he’s in a worse state than I imagined!” He raked his fingers through his hair in a distressed manner. “Naomi, he threw Orla out four years ago, she’d just had a baby, he never said that the baby was why he married her, but she was never his type. Their baby Tom, was born with heart problems, poor Con, he spent days just sat beside his incubator, it was almost Christmas and the weather was bad. Little Tom needed a blood transfusion, but the roads were blocked and they had no local supplies. Orla was still home ‘recovering’, so Conor offered his own blood. Any father would.”

Naomi was reeling at these revelations, but she also sensed there was not a great ending to this story and she gulped rather awkwardly, “of course.”

Patrick agreed, “Only he wasn’t the father.”

                “What?!”

                “He wasn’t a match, and that meant he couldn’t be the biological dad.” Patrick looked up to the rood of the car for a moment. “But three days later he was still by the baby’s bedside and he held him as he took his last breath.”

Her heart stopped, “oh my god!” her hand covered her mouth. “Poor Conor!”

Patrick touched her arm, “He’s not been keen on commitment since, which is why everyone has been so happy to see you here with him.”

Naomi could feel the tears rolling down her face as she felt physical pain on his behalf. How had he ever survived such a horrendous time? “But he was dancing with her...”

The look in Patrick’s eyes was enough, she knew Conor, she’d grown to know him over the last few months, he wasn’t a cad. This must’ve killed him, he’d never like or trust Orla again. Patrick then explained that Conor disappeared for months after people barely heard from him. It was only Simon’s injury that had dragged him away from his retreat.

 “Oh Conor!” her voice was a hoarse whisper. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the trauma he’d suffered.

Patrick half smiled, telling her this had been a huge risk, and he knew that Conor wouldn’t be exactly ecstatic with this. But this was a desperate time and it had called for desperate measures. “If you hated him you wouldn’t be this upset. Can’t you just understand, give him a chance? Please go and talk to him, don’t throw this away.”

                                                                                                                                                                                 

She was in a daze as she allowed him to lead her back into the castle, “I just need to clean myself up. I’m going to go upstairs, then I’ll go and find him.”

Naomi let herself into the room, as she was rooting through her bag for her makeup she heard a noise behind her.

She turned to see Conor emerging from the bathroom, his shirt and tie undone, his face dark and sad.

                “I thought you’d left.”

She shrugged, “if nothing else we have to work together next week, we need to get on.”

                “You have every reason to hate me. I hoped you wouldn’t see her...but she’s toxic,” He came towards her, “my mother doesn’t deserve any more pain, I hoped that I could manage the situation...but that meant dancing with her, tolerating her ways...I was trying to get rid of her, but she has skin like elephant hide.”

She touched his hand, “Patrick explained...about Orla I mean. All that happened. It would ruin most men. I just wish you’d told me. Shared that with me yourself. I really wish you’d let me in. But anyway, you got through it, that’s the main thing. We can get over this, we can still be friends.”

He gripped her fingers earlier, “He shouldn’t have told you that!”

                “No he shouldn’t, but you should have. You brought me into this lion’s den Conor, I had no idea of the role I was really playing, and that’s your fault. Saying that, it explains a lot, and I think I understand you a bit more now.”

Watching her intently it was a few long moments before he answered, “You misunderstood me earlier, outside. I haven’t been this close to anyone since Orla. I swore I’d never get involved again, never want more than casual acquaintances, I’ve been happy on my own for so long that I didn’t think I’d ever open up to anyone else. But you’re different; you’re making me question everything.”

She smiled, “I presume that’s a good thing, but we do need to start over again. Get to know each other, honestly. No lies, no hiding. Friends first.” She offered, “We need that, need to trust each other, be honest. Then maybe we can see where it goes.”

As she made to walk away he grabbed her hand, “but...”

                “What? We go back to as we were? Arguing fighting, and misunderstanding?” She shook her head, “no, we start over, from the beginning. Now come on, we need to get back to the party....”

Her words were lost as his lips landed on hers, any defence she had melted as their tongues met, and teeth grazed at each other. Her heart started to pound and warmth swept through her body. When they eventually separated they were both flushed, emotional...connected.

Finally lifting his head, Conor’s eyes met hers and seemed to penetrate her soul, “friends? I don’t think I can do that.” When her eyes widened with shock, he added, “Now Miss Young, tomorrow I will prove to you how much I trust you, and yes, I will accompany you back to the party.”

                “Good.” Ignoring her racing heart and jelly-like legs, she turned to make for the door but his voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

                “But we can’t be just friends. If you feel about me the way that I feel about you, then the ball is in your court, because I have every need, desire and intention of taking you back to bed, but only when you say you are ready. I know you want me, as much as I want you. It’s just a matter of time. But we CAN’T be friends, it’s just not possible.”

He straightened his tie, his eyes never leaving hers, and when she finally tried to vocalise a reply, he silenced her with a finger placed over her lips. “You have to make the decision Naomi. All or nothing?” He opened the door out on to the corridor “come on!”

She was angry at his proposition; he’d dragged it back down to gutter level. She was more than sex. He still didn’t see that, still didn’t seem to see that she needed a commitment from him. She wasn’t talking marriage, hell no, but she needed to know that he was serious about her before she stepped back into the lion’s den.

They had been missed and a few knowing looks passed between the guests, “they think we’ve been making love!” he whispered in her ear. Her blush for a response only deepened the suspicions. “But more importantly, they need to know that her appearance has changed nothing. Come on!”

And with that he dragged her onto the dance floor. The band had long since finished, but a DJ was still playing tunes despite the lateness of the hour. The bride and groom had left for sunny climes whilst they’d been absent, so the crowds were beginning to thin as people also started to leave.

Dire Straits kicked in with Romeo and Juliet, and as he pulled her into his arms, Conor gave a wry smile then lowering his head he started to sing along to the song, the words a husky rasp against her ear.

                “A love struck Romeo, sings the streets a serenade, laying everybody low with a love song that he made...”

Naomi was fighting her inner turmoil. She was desperate for him really, her whole body quivered, from the breath at her ear to the hands splayed across her spine.

                “You’re the Romeo? Is that what you’re saying?” her voice was as husky as his to her own ears. “You’ve got a long way to go y’know!”

He waggled an eyebrow, “you think? We shall see!”

They were at the bar getting a drink when Patrick skulked over. Both of them smiled coyly.

                “So are you both speaking to me?” He asked feigning nervousness. When they nodded smiling, he added, “That’s good because Naomi I have had far too much to drink to be able to drive you anywhere!”

She shook her head in amazement, “so it was all a calculated risk?”

He nodded, “well I didn’t want to see you walk out on an argument! Con I love you like a brother, and for the first time you seemed to be putting the past behind you...I couldn’t let her involvement ruin things again.” There was no hiding the contempt he felt for Orla.

                “You always were an interfering bastard! Well then meddler, let me get you a drink!”

They separated and danced with various family members and friends, and it was on seeing Naomi dancing with his elderly grandfather that Conor felt and recognised that familiar tugging sensation in his chest.  Acting on impulse he marched across the room and leaned to whisper into her ear.

                “I think I love you Naomi Young!” He walked back as quickly as he came, leaving her staring in confusion and wonder over his grandfathers shoulder.