The Devaney Brothers: Michael and Patrick: Michael's Discovery

“Is this date with a man?” he asked.

Kelly studied him curiously. He’d almost sounded jealous, but that couldn’t possibly be. Or could it? She decided to play out the charade a little longer to try to gauge his reaction. “Don’t women usually go out with men?” she asked. “Besides, my private life is none of your concern. We set up the ground rules weeks ago.”

He sighed at that. “Technically, no,” he agreed. “But this family thing is important to me. I thought you understood that I want you to be there.”

“Of course I understand that it’s important, but you don’t need me there,” she said, instantly feeling guilty for trying to wriggle off the hook. “Look at this another way. If I stay away, we’ll avoid all sorts of potentially embarrassing questions.”

“Such as?”

“What I’m doing at what should be a very private meeting between the Havilceks and the Devaneys,” she explained. “That’s likely to stir up all sorts of speculation.”

Michael suddenly grinned. “So that’s it,” he said as if he’d just discovered some huge secret. “You’re scared my mother’s about to start making wedding plans. You should have thought of that before you started asking her for the recipe for all my favorite dishes.”

She frowned at his obvious amusement. Maybe it was a big joke to him, but it wasn’t to her. “Aren’t you worried about that?”

“Not particularly.”

“Why?” she asked, bewildered by the fact that he wasn’t the least bit concerned.

“Because my mother is basically harmless. And if she does start getting any crazy ideas, I’ll set her straight. It’s not a big deal, Kelly. I can handle my mother.”

“Yeah, I could see that on Saturday,” she said dryly.

He laughed. “Okay, I can usually handle my mother.” His expression sobered. “Come on, Kelly, tell the truth. You don’t really have a date, do you?”

Continuing to lie was obviously pointless. Apparently she wasn’t all that good at it. “No,” she finally admitted with a sigh.

“Then come.”

“Why is my being there so important to you?”

Now it was his turn to look vaguely bewildered. “It just is,” he said finally. “I feel more...” He paused, searching for a word. “I feel more normal when you’re around.”

The explanation left her more confused than ever. “Normal how?”

He looked away as if he were almost embarrassed to make the admission. “You don’t get that expression in your eyes when you look at me that everyone else gets,” he said.

Kelly was beginning to get the picture. “No pity?”

“Exactly. And you don’t let me off the hook when I’m behaving badly. Everyone else does, as if I deserve a pass because I’m in this damned chair. That’s the last thing I need. I need to be held accountable for my actions. I need you right now.”

Kelly swallowed hard against the tide of emotion rising in her throat. Michael’s admission that he needed her—that he needed anyone—took her breath away. It was a huge breakthrough for a man who’d probably gone through his whole life trying to convince himself that he didn’t need anyone. How could she possibly turn him down after that?

“What time?” she asked, resigned.

As he realized what she was saying, a smile spread slowly across his face. “Pick me up at seven?”

Kelly almost agreed, then recalled that he’d told his family to meet at the pub at six-thirty. “Isn’t that a little late?”

He gave her a rueful look at having been caught. “I was hoping they’d get all the introductions out of the way before I got there.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’ll pick you up at six-fifteen, and no dillydallying. Be outside and ready to go. I’ll remind you of that when I’m here on Thursday.”

Michael laughed, clearly in a much better frame of mind now that she’d caved in to his request. “Yes, ma’am.”

Impulsively she went back and touched his cheek. The faint stubble was rough against her palm. His heat and masculinity drew her as no other man’s ever had. It was getting harder and harder to go on with the charade that she was immune to him. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”

He placed his hand over hers and held it in place. “With you there, something tells me it will be.”

* * *

Michael still wasn’t used to Kelly having her hands all over him. It didn’t seem to faze her, so he knew he shouldn’t let it bother him, but it did. In fact, it was driving him crazy. As if worrying about Friday night weren’t bad enough, today he couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts from straying to what it would be like if Kelly’s touches were a little—okay, a lot—less impersonal.

“How do you do it?” he asked finally when it felt as if he might explode if she stroked her hands over his thigh one more time. He’d spent the past few weeks trying to hide the fact that he was in a perpetual state of arousal when she was around and it was beginning to get to him.

“Do what?” she asked, sounding oddly distant.

“The massage thing.”

“I took classes.”

He glanced back over his shoulder and frowned. “Not what I meant, and you know it.”

She met his gaze, then looked hastily away, her cheeks suddenly rosy.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” he persisted.

“It’s my job,” she said, her tone as prim as someone’s elderly maiden aunt. “You’re a client.”

“I’m also a man,” he reminded her. Some wicked instinct had him rolling over to prove the point. He was thoroughly aroused...and that was despite a concerted attempt to remain completely disconnected from the massage.

Kelly’s attention was immediately drawn to the evidence. She swallowed hard, then deliberately looked away. Michael tried to gauge her reaction. It had almost seemed as if she was more fascinated—maybe even secretly pleased—than embarrassed. Maybe she wasn’t as immune as he’d thought.

“Look, I...” Her words dwindled off.

He reached out and clasped her hand in his. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I really don’t. Actually, I was curious about how you remain detached from what you’re doing.”

She met his gaze. “The truth?”

“Of course.”

“The issue has never really come up before.”

“Before?” he repeated, a certain measure of gloating creeping into his voice. “Meaning it has with me? You aren’t unaffected by touching me?”

She pulled away. “Don’t sound so blasted pleased with yourself. We really shouldn’t be having this conversation. It’s inappropriate and totally unprofessional on my part. Besides, we had an agreement.”

She was so clearly dismayed that he instantly backed off. Besides, he had the answer he wanted. The attraction wasn’t as one-sided as he’d imagined. Satisfied with that knowledge, he rolled back on his stomach and rested his head on his arms. “I’ll drop it, then,” he murmured.

“Thank you.”

“But don’t be surprised if it comes up again tomorrow night when you’re not on the clock.”

Her hands on his leg stilled. “Michael!” she protested weakly.

“Kelly!” he responded, teasing.

She sighed heavily. “What am I going to do about you?”

“An intriguing question,” he told her. “Let’s put that on the agenda for tomorrow night, too.”

“You realize if these topics come up tomorrow night, we might never actually make it to the pub?”

He hid his grin. “Definitely an added bonus,” he conceded.

She smacked his uninjured leg. “Forget it, Devaney. I’m not providing you with an excuse to get out of introducing your families to each other.”

“Oh, well, it was worth a try,” he said with an air of resignation.

And getting Kelly to admit that she was not oblivious to the effects of these massages had definitely been a side benefit. Of course, it was also likely to fuel his own fantasies so that he wouldn’t get a minute’s rest between tonight and tomorrow. He figured the sacrifice of a little sleep was worth it.

* * *

Kelly was a nervous wreck on Friday night. She told herself she was worried for Michael’s sake, that she merely wanted everything to go well, but it was more than that. The entire conversation they’d had about the impact of her massages on him had been disconcerting at best. His assurance that he intended to get into the subject again tonight the instant they were alone had her feeling edgy with anticipation of an entirely different sort.

She had been stunned when he’d revealed that he was thoroughly aroused. Stunned and, she was willing to admit, thrilled that she could have that kind of impact on a man she’d been convinced didn’t think of her as a woman at all. There was little question now that Michael saw her as a desirable grown-up, not a kid. But what would he do about it? Would he do the noble thing and ignore it because of his friendship with her brother and her role as his therapist? She hoped not. She’d been waiting far too long for him to notice her.

Of course, that wistful thought lasted only the length of time it took to say “lost license.” She could just imagine what Moira would have to say if Kelly revealed that there was anything the least bit provocative about her contact with a client.

She should get a grip, she told herself sternly, and tell Michael he had to do the same. Or she should quit. One or the other. She certainly couldn’t let things continue as they had been, not if she valued her professional reputation.

But the prospect of not seeing Michael on a regular basis was inconceivable. He’d come to mean too much to her. Her childish infatuation was developing into something far more important. Something she had to ignore, though, if she wanted to see him through his rehabilitation. And she did want that. She wanted to be there when his leg was strong and he was finally able to walk again. Which meant she was going to have to push her personal feelings for him aside and pretend they didn’t exist, no matter how badly he tormented her.

When she arrived Friday night to pick him up, he was dutifully waiting for her outside, despite the fact that the temperature had dropped and there was a threat of snow in the damp air.

“Are you crazy?” she demanded as she got out to open the door and help him into the car. “Why didn’t you wait inside?”

“You told me six-fifteen and that I wasn’t to dillydally,” he reminded her.

“And you always do what I say?”

He gave her his most winning smile, the one that made her heart flip over. “I try.”

Kelly noticed that he was able to transfer himself to the car a bit more easily than he could the previous weekend. He was actually able to put a little weight on his bad leg. When he was settled, she put the wheelchair in the back, then got back behind the wheel and glanced over at him.

“You ready?”

“No.”

She grinned at his sour expression. “Too bad.”

“We could run away to the Caribbean. Spend a month or two in the sun getting a tan,” he suggested, regarding her seriously. “My treat.”

“As much as the possibility of spending a few days on a beach where the temperature is at least fifty degrees warmer than it is here appeals to me, I’m afraid I’ll have to say no to that, too.”

“You’re no fun,” he accused.

His words, clearly spoken in jest, hit a raw nerve. “So I’ve been told,” she said, unable to keep the old hurt out of her voice.

Her response clearly startled him. His gaze narrowed. “What idiot said a thing like that?”

“The last man I dated.”

Something in his expression turned dark and dangerous. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”

“Well, it’s never pleasant being told that one is a bore,” she said, trying to make light of it.

It wasn’t that Phil Cavanaugh had devastated her. She hadn’t cared enough about him for his opinion to matter that much, but she had been shaken. It had made her question if that was why no relationship she’d been in had lasted more than a few months. Had Phil been speaking the truth? Was that the conclusion her other dates had eventually reached?

“Why would he say such a thing?” Michael prodded.

“Look, just forget about it,” she said. “It’s not important. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“You mentioned it because even though I was joking, I apparently struck a nerve. Now, tell me,” he ordered, “what gave this jerk the idea that you weren’t much fun? Was there some specific incident, or was he just insulting you on general principle?”

Kelly had never examined that awful exchange from that exact perspective before. She considered Michael’s question thoughtfully. It hadn’t been an out-of-the-blue comment on her personality at all. Phil had made the accusation when she’d refused to join him at a nightclub for swinging singles, who enjoyed sharing their partners. She’d been stunned that he’d asked in the first place. He’d professed to be shocked by her refusal. Obviously they hadn’t known each other at all. For months afterward she’d struggled to figure out why he’d ever thought she would go along with such an idea. She’d refused every invitation, terrified that the man who asked had the same low impression of her morals that Phil had had.

Suddenly she felt Michael’s hand cover hers.

“Kelly, what happened?” he asked, regarding her with concern. “I really want to know.”

And oddly enough, she found that she wanted to tell him, but how to explain it so that she didn’t feel even dirtier than she had that night? “He made a rather insulting suggestion about how we could spend an evening and I turned him down,” she said finally, skirting the specifics.

“Some men don’t take rejection well,” he noted.

Her lips twitched slightly. If only it were that simple. “As I recall, not five minutes ago you made the same comment when I turned your invitation down.”

“Yes, but I was joking and you knew it.” He studied her intently. “You did know it, didn’t you?”

“Honestly, yes, but that didn’t stop me from having an instant of déjà vu.”

“I’m sorry. Not that I don’t think running away to the Caribbean with you to be an excellent idea, but I was only trying to buy myself some time.” He lifted his wrist, looked at his watch, and a triumphant grin spread across his face. “Which I have successfully done.”

Kelly glanced at the clock on the dashboard and realized it was indeed after six-thirty. All thoughts of the slimy Phil Cavanaugh fled. She scowled at Michael. “You rat!”

“At least acknowledge that I’m a clever rat,” he teased.

“Not a chance. I intend to tell everyone who’ll listen that we’re late because you’re not only sneaky, but you’re also a total chicken.”

He regarded her with mock ferocity. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said direly.

“Watch me.”

He didn’t say another word as she started the car and drove the short distance to Ryan’s Place, but as soon as she’d parked and come around the car to help him into his wheelchair, he snagged her hand and pulled her closer.

“I know one way to stop you,” he said, amusement threading through his voice.

“Oh? How?”

“Like this.” He gave a firm tug that had her tumbling into his lap. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that robbed her of breath and definitely cut off both thoughts and speech. Her pulse was scrambling by the time he released her.

She stood up shakily, cleared her throat and regarded him through dazed eyes. “You won’t do that, though,” she said, her voice unsteady.

“I won’t?”

“No,” she said with confidence. “It would stir up too many questions.”

He laughed. “Do you honestly think I’m afraid of a few questions? Especially when the trade-off is a chance to kiss you thoroughly? Sweetheart, remember that I’ve been trained to withstand the worst kind of torture without breaking.”

Kelly didn’t like the gleam in his eye. She realized suddenly that he meant exactly what he was saying. He would kiss her into silence and enjoy every outrageous minute of it.

So would she, but that was another issue entirely, and she was not about to share that little tidbit of information with him.

* * *

For once, kissing Kelly had served a purpose other than completely and fruitlessly turning him on. He was feeling downright cheerful and relaxed when they finally went into his brother’s pub. Unfortunately, his sister-in-law was the first to spot them. Maggie was on the two of them like a hummingbird after nectar.

“My, my, my,” she said, subjecting both of them to a thorough survey. “Rosy cheeks, avoiding looking at each other. Hmm, what could it mean?”

“Nothing,” Kelly insisted, her cheeks burning an even deeper shade of pink.

Maggie’s gaze settled on Michael. “You going to lie to me, too?”

He grinned. “Not a chance. I know better.”

Maggie patted his back. “Good man,” she said approvingly. She winked at Kelly. “Fibbing is a waste of time, anyway. I saw you two through the front window. It was quite a show, at least until that kiss pretty much fogged up the window. Then I had to rely on my imagination to guess what was going on.”

“Oh, God,” Kelly whispered, obviously embarrassed. “Did everyone see?”

Maggie wrapped a consoling arm around her shoulders. “Only me and Ryan,” she said, then added, “and the people at the table by the door.”

Kelly whirled in that direction, then groaned when she saw it was Michael’s folks. His mother seemed especially pleased by what she’d observed. His father was merely studying the two of them with a speculative look.

Maggie laughed. “Definitely a fascinated audience, am I right?”

Michael shook his head at Maggie’s obvious pleasure in their discomfort. Ryan definitely had his hands full with her. Michael couldn’t decide if he pitied him or envied him. Add in Caitlyn, and the balance definitely tilted toward envy.

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