Killing Me Softly, page 18
The melody wove around her and after a moment she relaxed, leaning into his side. As the tune came to an end, she looked up at him. ‘That was lovely. What was it?’
‘An old Irish lullaby. Da used to sing it late at night when he was closing up the pub.’
‘Are you close to your da?’
‘It took a while, but yes, now I am.’
‘Do you see him often?’
‘Not as often as I’d like and certainly not as often as he would like.’ He laughed softly, then took another sip of his scotch.
She watched his Adam’s apple move up and down as he swallowed. She wanted to put her hand there, to feel the vibration, but didn’t feel comfortable enough yet to just touch him like that. Instead, she turned and stared at the fire, letting the silence surround her.
It was so strange to be doing this, here, with him, but at the same time, it seemed completely right.
The fire crackled, the soft golden glow casting friendly shadows around the room. Lexi glanced up and saw him looking at her. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘How beautiful you look with the firelight glowing on your face. I know that sounds clichéd, but it’s true. How about you?’ He ran a finger down her cheek, over her lips and down her throat.
She trembled, desire flickering low in her belly. When she spoke, her voice was husky. ‘I was thinking how comfortable I am right now.’
‘It’s nice to know I make a good cushion.’
She laughed. He had a way of putting her at ease. ‘That’s not what I meant.’ She snuggled into his side again. ‘You’re a bit too firm to be a good cushion. Good cushions aren’t quite so muscular.’
He laughed.
Lexi turned in his arms and put her hand over his chest, feeling the rumble of his laugh through his ribs. ‘So what should we talk about?’
‘What would you like to talk about?’
She bit her lip, thinking about it for a moment. ‘I don’t want to talk about my past tonight. I don’t want to start off with our bad memories.’
His smile faded. ‘Neither do I. So, where would you like to begin?’
‘Tell me how you got this scar.’ She reached up and touched it, her fingers gliding along the patch of smooth, white skin that cut through one of his eyebrows. ‘If it’s not a bad memory.’
He chuckled. ‘It’s not a bad memory, just kind of stupid, really. When I was little I used to like to pretend I was a rock star. I’d stand in the street and sing and play air guitar with my friends.’
Lexi curled into his side, hearing the rumble of his voice through his chest, and sipped at her hot chocolate while he told the story.
‘We were living in Dublin. My mates and I decided one day to climb up on old man O’Keefe’s unused WC next to the alley and put on a concert – we were pretending it was a stage. Anyway, we made so much noise that the deaf old coot heard us and called the bobbies. When we saw them coming down the alley we tried to make a run for it. Unfortunately, the WC roof wasn’t stable enough to put up with four boys running across the middle at the same time.’
‘Did it collapse?’
‘You betcha. The next thing I knew I was flat on my back on a bed of tin and splintered wood, surrounded by broken pots, dirt and crushed marijuana plants. Apparently old man O’Keefe’s grandson had been growing his stash there.’
‘What did you do?’ Lexi asked, looking up at his face, noting the glint of humour in his eyes as he remembered.
‘I had a gash through my eyebrow and down the side of my face and my mate Lewis was on top of me. When he saw the blood he passed out and the bobbies caught us.’
She laughed. ‘Did you get in trouble?’
‘Not as much trouble as old man O’Keefe!’ She felt the rumble of his laugh. ‘He finally managed to prove the stash wasn’t his. They carted me off to the hospital to get checked out and have my face stitched up. We were let off with a warning.’
‘You were lucky none of you were seriously hurt.’
‘I know. I think little boys are made of tough stuff. I can’t remember how many times I did things that should have been the death of me.’
‘I bet your mother was scared to let you out of the house if that was the sort of thing you went and did.’
He stiffened, the smile dying on his lips. ‘My mother didn’t much care what I did.’ He looked down at her and frowned. ‘Surely you know that. It’s been splashed all over the tabloids in recent months.’
‘I don’t read the tabloids. It’s rare if I even read the newspaper.’ But now she wished she did. What had happened to bring that look to his face? She wished she knew, but she couldn’t probe into his bad memories when she didn’t want to talk about hers.
He looked like he was about to say something, then changed his mind.
Unable to stand the pained expression on his face, she brought his attention back to his story. ‘So that’s how you ended up with this scar on your face?’
He nodded slowly as if coming back from an unpleasant dream. ‘Mm-hm. The wound healed up surprisingly well. People only notice if they get up close. I’ve always thought it lent a bit of roughened character to my face.’
She smiled at him. ‘You’re right. You might have been too pretty otherwise.’
He chuckled. She was relieved to hear it.
‘Glad to know my appearance meets with your approval.’
‘It does more than that.’
He turned, the longing in his eyes matching hers. He stared at her for so long she thought she might pass out from the stress of anticipation. Then slowly, as if waiting to see what she’d do, he leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss.
As he pulled away, she smiled. ‘Mm,’ she said, enjoying his scent. ‘Perhaps I don’t mind a bit of canoodling after all.’
He kissed her again, softly. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He kissed her again, once, twice; little pecking kisses, then turned and took a sip of his drink. Swallowing on a sigh, he settled back into the cushions, pulling her more snugly to his side.
Lexi laid her head down on his shoulder, her palm splayed over his chest. Silence surrounded them. She could hear the beating of his heart, the soft sound of his swallow, the crackle of the fire. It was so cosy. She felt sleepy, but she didn’t want to go to sleep yet. She had other things she wanted to know. After a long moment she took her courage in hand and asked, ‘Did you always want to be a musician?’
His lips brushed her hair. ‘For as long as I can remember I’ve had music playing in my head. It seemed natural to follow that path. What about you?’
‘The same. Music was such a part of my life I couldn’t imagine the world without it.’ She smiled. ‘Cat was always a better singer than me and her piano playing was angelic, but I could play lots of different instruments, picking up new ones with little trouble. I used to write songs for her to play and sing and I would accompany her on whatever instrument I played at the time.’ She sighed. ‘I wish I could have those days back again.’
‘Some day you will.’
She shook her head. ‘Even if Cat gets well, things will never be the same.’ She paused, put her cup down, leaned back against him. The sound of his heartbeat was comforting. He was solid and warm and real. She clung to those things, trying to banish the past with its painful memories. She took a deep breath, filling herself with his warmth and the comforting musky smell of man that clung to his skin. Closing her eyes she sighed. ‘Tell me some more about the naughty things you did when you were a boy.’
‘Okay.’
As he spoke, his voice a bass buzz in her ear, she slowly drifted to sleep.
Daemon felt her relax against him, her breathing deepening into the slow rhythm of sleep. He shifted down in the couch, laying his head back against the cushions, trying to make himself more comfortable. Which was nearly impossible, the way her breast pressed against his chest and her breath fluttered over the V of skin bared by his sweater.
He cursed silently as he felt himself harden.
That she could turn him on with so slight a thing was a promise of the passion to come. But he wasn’t going to take advantage of their positions tonight.
She trusted him. Enough to fall asleep in his arms, even after waking from a nightmare. He knew enough about waking from nightmares to recognise the fear that had played in her eyes when he’d entered the kitchen.
He swore if Lyndon wasn’t already dead, he’d have hunted him down, castrated him and then gutted him. The bastard deserved no less.
She moved, her knee sliding up to lie over his legs, coming precariously close to his raging hard-on. He gritted his teeth and tried to relax.
Count to ten.
Count sheep.
Count something.
Anything to stop him from doing what he had longed to do ever since he’d first seen her standing on the steps of her home, green eyes challenging him in a way that had made him feel more alive than he’d felt in a long time.
It took counting two hundred sheep, but finally, he relaxed.
There. That was better.
Her hand shifted, her fingers brushing his nipple through the soft wool of his thin sweater.
He jerked, fire cutting a jagged line from his nipple, along his belly to his desire-thickened erection.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. He was about to explode and he hadn’t even got her naked.
He blew out a long breath, trying to regain control. He wasn’t an inexperienced youth ready to blow at the drop of a hat. Nor was he a caveman, ready to throw her onto her back, tear the soft Bugs Bunny pyjama bottoms from her luscious legs and plant himself deep inside her while she was still asleep.
Part of him wished he was, though. He wanted to plunge into her and lose himself to the sweet oblivion he knew her body would bring to him.
He groaned.
What the fuck was he doing? Don’t think about sex. Don’t think about sex.
Keeping as still as possible, muscles quivering, he tried to ignore the pain of the erection pressing against his jeans. And slowly, slowly, he began to relax again. He was still as hard and thick as a stallion in heat, but he would not be led around by his cock.
Not with her.
She moved again. He swore.
This was going to be a long night.
But he wouldn’t move for the world.
The fire crackled softly, the warm glow steady and sure. As dawn lightened the room, his eyes drifted closed and he slept with Alexia cradled against his side, his feet propped on the coffee table and his dark head resting against the plump cushions.
Daemon woke to the sound of birds chirping in the plum trees in the nearby orchard and the kettle whistling. The scent of toast and bacon drifted on the air. Alexia was curled up next to him, sound asleep, her head on his chest, her arm flung around him. He stroked her hair, finding incredible pleasure in the action.
A door opened and closed upstairs, followed by the sound of the pipes groaning as a shower was turned on. Billy must be up and he would be down soon with Cat in tow.
Beneath his hand, Alexia stirred.
‘Shh, go back to sleep.’
She stretched and rubbed her eyes. ‘Mm. What time is it?’
He looked around for a clock but couldn’t see one. ‘I don’t know, but Bev is making breakfast.’
‘Mm. I thought I could smell something wonderful.’ Her voice was husky with sleep. ‘I dreamt I was in a wood, surrounded by trees that seemed to be made out of coffee and beneath my feet the earth became wobbly poached eggs. My stomach began to growl.’ She put her hand over her stomach as it did just that. ‘I think it woke me up.’
She sat up, rubbing her eyes and stretching.
He watched her. The sun filtering through the lace curtains created a most marvellous silhouette of her figure.
She smiled sleepily. ‘I feel wonderful. I don’t think I’ve slept that well for ages.’
‘Me too.’ Daemon sat up and stretched his neck; it cracked in complaint.
‘Liar.’
Their eyes met. Sleep slowly crept away, replaced by an increasing awareness of his closeness, of the fact she’d slept the night at his side. As she held his gaze, she felt the world tilt, the hairs on her arms standing up as if the air was filled with cracking electricity. Without thinking, she leaned forward, her lips brushing his. The tight control of the breath hissing out of his lips made her bolder. She brushed her tongue along the crease between his lips and felt him shudder.
‘You’re playing with fire, Alexia.’
‘I know.’ She licked his lips again. He crushed her to him in response, his mouth hot and hard on hers, and she was lost. He pulled her down, flipping over, his body pressing her into the soft cushions of the couch. Her head swam, her body electrified as she felt his whole length lined up along hers. She clutched at his back, pulling him closer, but couldn’t get close enough, no matter how hard she pressed against him.
‘Eh-hem. Sorry to interrupt, but Bev told me to tell you that breakfast was ready. There’s plenty for Daemon, too.’
Lexi came out of her daze to realise Daemon had sat up and was looking past her to where Karl stood at the door to the lounge room, feet shuffling and looking both embarrassed and amused. Flushing, she pushed away from Daemon and leaped to her feet, feeling as if she’d just been caught by her dad. Trying to recover her composure – not helped by the Bugs Bunny pyjamas she wore – she said, ‘Thanks Karl. Tell Bev I just need to shower and change first.’
Karl waved his hand at her in a dismissive gesture. ‘Don’t worry about that. You don’t want to miss out on hot bacon and eggs, do you?’
‘I know I sure don’t,’ Daemon said, standing up and taking her hand, ignoring her protests about not being dressed.
Billy and Cat were sitting at the kitchen table. He smiled as she entered with Daemon.
‘Nice to see you made the effort to get dressed, Lexi.’
‘Oh, shut up.’ The tone of her voice and the smile on her lips belied the terseness of her words. She crossed the kitchen, giving Cat a kiss on the top of her head, before taking a seat. Daemon sat down next to her.
Billy was still smiling. ‘How come you’re so chipper this morning?’ His expression conveyed a wealth of meaning.
‘Can’t a person wake up in a good mood for no particular reason?’
His brows rose. ‘I suppose they can.’
Bev put a plate piled with toast on the table, and another with bacon and poached eggs. They helped themselves. Lexi – truly hungry for the first time in ages – tucked in, waiting for Billy to ask Daemon why he was here this morning. He didn’t, though. She did catch him glancing between them.
Ignoring him, she turned to Bev, asking what she planned on doing that day.
‘I thought I’d head over to help Stan finalise plans for the funeral.’
‘Do you need anyone to come with you?’
Bev patted Lexi’s shoulder as she sat next to her. ‘Thanks for the offer, love, but I’ll be fine. The shock’s worn off and there’s nothing better than to keep busy helping others. I’ll be happy when this is all behind us and the police have found the murdering bastard.’ Her mouth trembled and she clapped a hand over her lips. ‘I’m sorry. Being upset is no excuse for swearing.’
Lexi simply leaned over and gave her a hug. Bev took in a deep breath, smiled gratefully, then picked up her mug of coffee and took a sip of the strong brew. After that they ate in silence, the thought of Jenny’s death a heavy weight in the room.
Unwilling to succumb to the pull of depressing thoughts, Lexi swallowed down her coffee and then stood up. ‘I’m going to have a shower and get changed. Do you want any help with Cat this morning?’
Billy shook his head. ‘No thanks. I’ll be right. You have the morning off as you’d planned.’
‘Why don’t you and Daemon come down and help me with the horses this morning?’ Karl suggested. ‘I’m checking on the mares in foal and I’m going to give Viking and a few of the others a good curry and check their shoes. Jimbo threw a shoe on me yesterday when we were at a full gallop and I almost got thrown. I thought I’d better check the others.’
‘I’ll be in for that,’ Daemon said, rubbing his hands together.
‘Are you sure?’ Lexi asked. ‘It can be pretty dirty, backbreaking work.’
‘I know. I used to do it all the time as a lad.’ He laughed at her look of incredulity. ‘Da’s customers were all farmers. I spent many of my holidays earning extra money doing all sorts of odd jobs.’
Karl smiled. ‘It sounds like you’re an old hand. I’ll be glad of the help.’
Daemon held up his hands. ‘They might look soft, but these hands have seen plenty of hard work in their life. I’ll be happy for the physical labour.’ He looked at Lexi meaningfully. She couldn’t help but blush.
Karl finished his last bit of egg and stood, kissed Bev on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you in about half an hour then?’ Daemon nodded, his mouth full, and Karl wished the others good morning and headed out of the kitchen.
‘We might come down and watch you with the horses, if that’s all right?’ Billy asked Lexi.
Lexi nodded enthusiastically. ‘Maybe we could even get Cat up on Kelsey. Lead her around the yard and into the paddock?’
‘That would be great. Did I tell you she picked up an apple in the barn yesterday and fed it to Kelsey?’
‘No.’ She sat forward, excited.
‘I think I even saw her mouth Kelsey’s name, and then she leaned her head against Kelsey’s face and closed her eyes. I couldn’t move.’
‘Did she respond to you?’
He shook his head. ‘When I managed to choke out her name, she opened her eyes, stared at me for a few seconds then moved back from Kelsey. But I swear, for a moment, she was there with me. The old, horse-loving Cat.’
‘Oh, God. That’s so wonderful.’
‘You should try music therapy with her too and bring her down to sit in on the band playing. She seemed to be really into the music at the dance the other night.’ Daemon offered.
