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Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo

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BOOK: In the Arms of the Wind
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“We are going over your car right now, sir,” the man said, reaching for the two overnight bags. “As soon as we’ve cleared it, someone will drive it out to the condo for you. If you’ll give me your keys?”

Danny hadn’t considered that his car might have been tampered with—brake lines cut, an incendiary device attached to the undercarriage. He let out a harsh breath then dug in his pocket for the keys.

“Kaycee, this Dermot Curran. He’s one of my grandfather’s bodyguards,” he introduced.

Kaycee smiled hesitantly at the large man. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Curran.”

“Just Dermot, ma’am,” the bodyguard said. He stepped back for them to leave the elevator. Two beefy men moved forward to walk ahead of Danny and Kaycee and two more fell into step behind Dermot.

“You guys carrying?” one of the uniformed cops in the lobby smarted off as he walked in front of them, his hand on the butt of his service revolver. He was a new guy on the force, eager to make a rep for himself as a hard ass.

“Yeah, cop, and we’ve got permits,” Dermot snapped.

“It’s okay, Jimmy,” Danny told the cop.

The policeman dipped his chin and reluctantly moved away.

Outside in the night air, the strobe of police car lights, bomb squad van flashers and a bevy of uniforms talking to everyone coming or going into the condo gave the atmosphere a carnival-like sense of unreality. Kaycee took everything in with wide-eyed wonder, her hand tucked firmly in Danny’s as the two men in front of them led them to a long black limo.

“We could have done without the ostentation,” Danny grumbled. “I don’t like rubbing this shit into the noses of the people I have to work with.”

“It’s armored, Mr. D.,” Dermot said. “Mr. X. insisted.”

At that name, Kaycee couldn’t stop the shudder than ran through her. She hesitated as the limo door was opened for her by one of the bodyguards. Feeling as close to having a panic attack as she’d ever come, she jerked on Danny’s arm, gulping in breaths.

“Calm down,” Danny said softly, putting his free hand to her back and rubbing gently. “Take slow, deep breaths.”

“I don’t think I can…” she said, feeling lightheaded.

“What did your sister name her new baby?” Dermot asked, moving in close to her. Anyone watching would realize the bodyguards had positioned themselves to shield Danny and Kaycee where they stood.

Kaycee looked blindly up at him. “What?”

“Blake, wasn’t it?” Dermot said, his eyes gleaming.

“Drake,” Kaycee corrected. “Drake Junior.”

“I’m a Dermot Junior,” the bodyguard told her as he took her hand and urged her into the limo. “Used to hate I didn’t have a name of my own, but the older I get, the more it feels right, you know? A chip off the old block so to speak.” He had very effectively nudged Danny back so Kaycee was forced to slide across the seat.

“I’m a Francis Junior,” one of the other bodyguards remarked. He was crowding Danny into the limo. “My son is Frankie the Third.”

“You’ve got a son?” Dermot asked as Danny moved in behind Kaycee. “Who’d marry you, Mulroney?”

“Tank Donnelly’s baby girl Siobhan,” Frankie replied as he moved back and shut the limo door.

“How’d you rate a pretty girl like that ugly as you are, Mulroney?”

Inside the limo, the conversation among the bodyguards was muted and Danny chuckled.

“They handled that very professionally,” Kaycee observed as Danny slid closer to her and put his arm around her. “Dermot knew my nephew’s true name, didn’t he?”

“Oh yeah, you can bet on it,” Danny replied. When Dermot got behind the wheel of the limo, Danny locked eyes with the bodyguard in the rearview mirror. “Thanks, Derm.”

“My pleasure, Mr. D.,” Dermot replied. The trunk lid went down, locking in the overnight bags. “All set?”

“We’re good,” Danny said.

There was a dark maroon Buick in front of the limo and Frankie and his partner climbed into the front seat. A similar car that would carry the other two bodyguards sat behind the limo. As soon as Dermot flashed his bright lights, Frankie pulled away from the curb.

Kaycee was quiet as Danny tenderly stroked her shoulder. She was leaning against his chest, watching the street lights as they passed them.

“It’s going to be okay,” Danny said softly.

“I know,” she replied then sat up, pushing away from him. She twisted in the seat so she could face him. “I’ve been thinking, Danny. About your family being in the Irish mob.”

Danny briefly met Dermot’s eyes once more in the rearview mirror.

“All right,” he said. His expression said he feared the worst.

“This is all so new to me, Danny,” she said. “It’s way beyond anything I’ve ever had to deal with before.”

“I know, but it will get…”

“Let me finish,” she said, cutting him off.

“Okay.”

She seemed to be searching for the right words and when she spoke, her voice was stronger, surer.

“Up until now I’ve led a very uneventful life. The only time I’d ever come close to being near a policeman was the Georgia state trooper I sat beside when I took my driving test. I’ve never gotten even a parking ticket and I’ve always been very careful to obey all the laws and rules and regulations. Just the sight of a policeman makes me uneasy.”

Dermot chuckled. “Me too,” he quipped then sobered as he caught Danny glaring at him.

“That night at Thomas Gerring’s house I was petrified, and if you hadn’t been so nice to me, it would have been a thousand times worse. When you came around the next day—flirting with me—you put me at ease and helped me get through a really scary time. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“You’re a lot stronger than you think you are,” he said quietly.

“You’re right, I am,” she said. “I didn’t realize that until a few minutes ago when I came to a decision about us, you and me I mean.”

Danny tensed.

“I can do this, Danny,” she said, flinging a hand to indicate the limo. “All of it. Your job. Your family and all that entails. My family and how they’ll react to learning who your family is. It’s going to take some getting used to but I can do it. I will do it. I’ll learn to deal with your family and with mine because I realized that if anything had happened to you tonight, if I’d lost you, I couldn’t bear it. Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do to be with you, that’s what it will be.”

“Kaycee…”

“Just give me time, Danny,” she cut him off again. “Let me adjust to all this at my own speed. Give me a chance to stiffen my backbone, so to speak. I swore to your grandfather that I would stand beside you, uphold your decisions and keep your secrets. He told me to hold my ground with you and take your side in all things, and I told him I would. I will do all that and I will make you a promise if you’ll make me one.”

“And what would that be?” he asked softly.

“Don’t tell me anything about your family’s illegal activities—what they do, how they do it or who they do it to—and I won’t ever intrude into your affairs. Your business is your business, but our lives together are to be kept separate from theirs. Is that a deal?”

Before he answered, once more Danny’s gaze met Dermot’s in the mirror. The bodyguard was smiling, nodding in approval.

“It’s a deal,” Danny swore, and leaned toward her to seal their bargain with a kiss.

* * * * *

As luxurious as Danny’s 3,200-square-foot condo was, it paled in comparison to his brother’s lavish residence that spanned the entire twenty-second floor of the Windthorn Vista Towers. The great room alone would hold Danny’s entire condo and with floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a one-eighty-degree view of the Atlantic Ocean at the western end of the room. Breathtaking couldn’t even begin to describe the space.

“My God,” Kaycee breathed as she took in the sumptuous room done completely in white.

“A bit over the top, huh?” Danny asked dryly.

In the center of the room was a free-standing curving staircase with thick glass treads leading up to what Danny told her was an observation deck complete with a heated pool on the roof.

“Completely enclosed with bullet-proof glass.”

“I’d hate to be the one to clean all this,” Kaycee whispered.

“Johnny has a large staff of well-trained servants,” Danny said. “Moirrey wanted a butler but he drew the line at that. His bodyguards take turns guarding the door instead. My sister-in-law, however, has a personal maid and a masseuse on hand at all times.” He snorted. “She gets a lot of what she labels migraines. A handy thing to have when you don’t want your husband exercising his spousal rights although…” He lowered his voice. “Don’t feel bad for Johnny Gallagher. He isn’t lacking in that department.”

Kaycee’s eyebrows shot up. “He has a mistress?”

“Mistresses,” Danny corrected. “Three at last count, but hell, there may be more by now.” He grinned. “Moirrey gets a lot of headaches and Johnny gets bored easily.”

“We set you up in the east wing, Mr. D.,” Dermot said, coming back from a consultation with the bodyguard on duty at the front door. “I didn’t think you’d want to be too close to Mrs. Bucket.”

Danny chuckled and started to explain the comment to Kaycee but she put a friendly hand on Dermot’s brawny arm.

“It’s the Bouquet residence,” she said with a straight face. She looked him up and down. “I say, you aren’t Sheridan, are you?”

Her companions laughed, both pleased that she had understood the reference to one of the British comedies
Keeping up Appearances
.

“The lady of the house is out at the moment,” Dermot said, “and Mr. J. is in with Mr. X and asks you to join them, Mr. D. Ma’am, I’ll show you to your room if you’d like to unpack.”

Kaycee looked at Danny who told her to follow Dermot. She kissed her lover’s cheek then fell into step with Dermot, the two of them discussing other English sitcoms as though they’d been friends for years.

Danny watched his lady walking across the great room and felt his heart do a tight little squeeze. In a short amount of time she had become everything to him—his entire world—and he was terrified of losing her.

* * * * *

Kaycee kicked off her flats and set about unpacking what they had brought with them. She put the folded garments into the huge armoire, grateful they hadn’t brought hanging things with them since they would be lost in the cavernous closet. She felt like a fairy-tale princess in the huge guest room with its massive king-size oak bed with four-posters nearly as big around in diameter as her thighs. The bed had steps that were needed to get onto the mattress and the twin nightstands were each a good three feet wide. At one end of the room there was a sitting area complete with dual sofas, two recliners, a chaise lounge and assorted oversized tables that sat before a sixty-inch plasma flat-screen TV hung over a massive fieldstone fireplace with brightly polished brass andirons and screen. Everything in the room was in excess, and if she were a betting woman, the expense not spared to decorate it would far exceed her take-home pay for five years.

And the bath…

All she could do was shake her head at the flamboyance of a room that was at least four times as big as her own bedroom back on Anderson Lane. A huge six by five Jacuzzi whirlpool tub dominated one end of the room and was surrounded on three sides by windows that looked out to sea. A bidet, toilet and urinal each had its own little tiled niche, and the massive Jacuzzi Summer Rain walk-in shower had four body massaging jets on a unique shower column. The vanity was twelve feet across with a solid mirror above it and twin glass sinks. In large copper tubs beside both the shower and the tub, plush terry bath sheets had been rolled into cylinders. Underfoot, the floor had been done in Rosa aurora marble—the most expensive of its kind.

“Man oh man,” Kaycee said aloud as she placed her cosmetic bag and Danny’s shaving kit on the travertine limestone vanity top. “You could feed a family of four for a solid year on what this vanity alone must have set them back.”

“I’ll have you know we make regular donations to a plethora of charities, Miss Connor.”

Kaycee brought her head up and in the vast expanse of the vanity mirror saw Moirrey Gallagher standing in the doorway. She turned to face the slender beauty whose arms were crossed over her abundant chest, one shapely hip cocked.

“I’m sure you do,” Kaycee said, leaning against the vanity.

“I’ll also have you know I don’t want you in my home,” Moirrey stated. “That was Johnny and
Daideo
’s decision and I was not consulted in the matter. Had I been asked, I would have vetoed your coming here.”

“But not Danny,” Kaycee said.

Moirrey’s smile was hateful. “Dan-o is always welcome in my home and between my sheets,” she replied.

“Don’t you mean between your thighs?” Kaycee queried.

The hateful smile became a brutal grin. “There too.”

“Well, that’s a place you aren’t ever going to find him again,” Kaycee told her, acting more confident than she felt. Inside she was quivering for confrontations had always been difficult for her.

“Don’t be so sure,” Moirrey crooned with all the self-possession of a woman accustomed to getting whatever she wanted. “He’ll tire of your pedestrian looks and meager talents in bed very quickly. Dan-o likes a challenge and I doubt you pose much of one to him. I really don’t see you as any kind of threat to our relationship.”

BOOK: In the Arms of the Wind
11.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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