Maureen Child - Desiring the Reilly Brothers - The Tempting Mrs Reilly / Whatever Reilly Wants... / The Last Reilly Standing

“What we had is over.”

His quiet voice jabbed at her with the strength of a punch to the stomach, but she didn’t waver. Didn’t let him see how much it hurt to know that all he wanted from her was for her to be gone.

Instead, she asked the question that had been haunting her for five years. After all, if he wanted to be distant, he could give her the reason. He could tell her why he’d suddenly announced he wanted a divorce—without ever saying why.

“It’s over because you decided it would be.”

He sighed. “Tina—”

“Tell me why, Brian,” she said and took a step closer. She saw his blue eyes darken, his expression tighten. “Tell me why you threw us away and maybe I’ll think about leaving.”

She wouldn’t but he didn’t have to know that.

“It was five years ago, Tina. Let it go.”

“You still won’t tell me?” she asked. “Not even for the chance of getting rid of me?”

One corner of his mouth quirked, and Tina felt a tug of reaction down low in her belly. Brian Reilly had one great mouth. Instantly, her brain filled with images of just what that mouth was capable of. Memories crowded into her brain, stealing her breath and making her blood hum with a sense of expectation.

“You wouldn’t leave,” he said, shaking his head. “Not until you’re good and ready.”

Still feeling the rush of attraction, she smiled and admitted, “True.”

“You always were a hard head.”

“Coming from the Rock of Gibraltar, not much of an insult.”

“Didn’t mean it as an insult,” he admitted. “I always sort of enjoyed our arguments—at least, I enjoyed the making up part.”

A rush of heat swamped her, and Tina had to breathe deeply a few times, just to keep her brain on track. “If you enjoyed our marriage so damn much, why’d you—”

“So, why’re you here?” He interrupted her neatly, clearly refusing to talk about the past. Again. Shifting position slightly, he leaned one hip against the chipped, blue tile counter. “Why now?”

He looked dangerous.

Always had, which she had to admit, if only silently, had been part of his appeal. Black hair, blue eyes, a broad chest, narrow hips and the ability to wear blue jeans like no one else she’d ever known. Of course he could get to her in a heartbeat. There probably wasn’t a woman on the planet between the ages of sixteen and sixty he wouldn’t affect.

Swallowing hard against a sudden knot of need that had lodged in her throat, Tina said, “Nana went to Italy. She needed help with Muffin and Peaches.”

“And that’s it?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously. “The only reason? You didn’t talk to my brothers or anything?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, trying and failing to read his expression. “The only one of your brothers I’ve talked to is Connor.”

He didn’t look as though he completely believed her, and she wondered what he was thinking. Wondered just what else was going on. And even as she wondered, Tina knew she’d never find out from Brian, so she’d just have to snoop around a little.

Brian had the decency to wince when she said Connor’s name. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I knew it wouldn’t work and still let him try.” Clearing his throat, he added wryly, “If it’s any consolation, you scared the hell out of him.”

Tina smiled. “Actually, yes, it is some consolation. But it doesn’t tell me what I want to know. Which is, why’d you do it in the first place? Why is it so important to get me out of town?”

His features closed up and a shutter dropped over his eyes. It was the only way to describe the sudden distance in him. One moment he’d been less than a foot away from her and the next, he might as well have been on Venus.

“Doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does to me,” she admitted.

“Just forget it all right?” He pushed away from the counter and half turned toward the back door.

“The dogs are out there.”

“Damn it.” He did a quick about-face and stalked across the kitchen and into the living room.

Tina was right behind him.

He snatched up his cap off the table and marched across the dimly lit living room to the front door. As he stepped out, Tina reached for him and grabbed his upper arm.

He stopped dead, as if he’d been shot. He looked down at her hand on his arm, then slowly lifted his gaze to hers.

She knew what he wanted, but she didn’t let go of him. It wasn’t only stubbornness that had her hanging on, it was also the direct heat that had zipped through her body at the first touch of him. Electric. It felt as though live wires were dancing and skittering inside her veins and she didn’t want to lose that sensation so quickly. It had been way too long since she’d felt it.

“I’m not leaving,” she said firmly, meeting his gaze so tightly, she saw the shift of emotions in his eyes, but they came and went too fast to identify them. “I’m going to be here for three weeks, Brian. So you’d better find a way to deal with that.”

His jaw clenched and she was pretty sure he was grinding his teeth. Which, actually, made her feel a lot better about the whole situation. Sure he wanted her out of town. Sure, he didn’t want her to touch him.

Because whether he wanted to admit it or not, he experienced the same short-circuiting sense of excitement from her that she did from him.

Which meant, all in all, that Tina was going to have an easier time seducing him than she’d thought she would.

After all, that’s why she was here, right?

To get Brian into bed.

To get pregnant.

And then to leave.

She let him go on that thought because the idea of leaving was less pleasant than the other thoughts had been and she didn’t want him to see any hesitation on her face.

“Fine.” He nodded and stepped out onto the porch. Settling his cap on his head, he looked at her from eyes shadowed by the black brim of the cap. “Three weeks. I can handle it if you can.”

Then he stomped down the steps, circled the house and headed for the stairs to his apartment. The dogs erupted into howls, yips and barks and Tina chuckled when she heard Brian mutter, “Shut up, you little beasts.”

Handle it?

He might think he’d be able to handle it, but Tina knew that she was getting to him. Knew that before the next week was up, she’d have him just where she wanted him.

The only question was, would she be able to handle leaving him again when the three weeks were over?

Bright and early the next morning, Tina dressed carefully in cream-colored linen slacks and a pale russet blouse. Then she snapped Peaches and Muffin onto their leashes and headed down the street.

It felt strange to go for a walk. Too long in California, she thought. Out there, people drove a half a block to a store rather than walking. Traffic was awful because carpooling had never taken off. Californians liked their cars and their sense of independence too much to share rides. They wanted to be able to go, when and where they wanted to.

Here in Baywater though, the quiet streets were made for walking. The sidewalks rose and fell like waves on the ocean as they climbed over tree roots. But when the sidewalks split, the city came out and patched the cement. A much better solution to Tina’s way of thinking, than the California answer to growing trees—which was to rip them out at the roots and plant newer, smaller trees. And then when they grew, rip them out and start over again.

The trees in Baywater, left alone to do what trees did best, stretched out leafy arms toward each other, making thick green arches over the wide streets. Kids rolled by on skateboards, neighbors worked in the garden and everyone had a swing on the front porch, just made for sitting and watching the world roll by.