January Girl (Wilder Irish Book 1) Read online

  Her tone was more threatening than she’d intended, but she refused to cower, refused to let Lucas think he had the upper hand.

  It was obvious her sudden aggression caught him off guard, making her think, once again, that he didn’t have a clue who she was.

  He recovered quickly. Damn him. “Tell me about yourself, Caitlyn.”

  She took a deep breath. Clearly, she still had a shot at trying to figure out his intentions. “I’m not sure what there is to tell. I think we pretty much covered all the bases already. I’m a lawyer. I’m single. And I have shitty taste in men.”

  Lucas chuckled, and she couldn’t help but think it sounded rusty. Was this guy always so serious?

  “I’m curious what the attraction was between you and Sammy. He doesn’t seem like your type.”

  She frowned. “We’ve known each other approximately twenty minutes. How do you know what my type is?”

  “You don’t make it very far in my line of business without paying attention to details. You studied law. I study people.”

  Caitlyn felt compelled to push Lucas’s buttons. The man seemed unshakable. Which made her long to rattle him. “You can’t figure someone out in just twenty minutes.”

  “Sammy is weak.”

  She shrugged. “So?”

  “So that’s not what you want. What you need.”

  The way he said the word “need” had her chest going tight with fear…and, God help her, longing. “You have no idea what I need.” She’d meant to put some power, some strength behind her assertion. Instead, the words came out in a whisper that belied them.

  Once again, Lucas didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. How the man could say so much with just one look was beyond her, but it was obvious he knew way too much about her needs.

  Lucas let his gaze travel over her body, taking his time as he studied every aspect of her. “You dress conservatively, but you know how to accentuate your strongest features. While you don’t seek to hide the fact that you’re very beautiful, your dress slacks, your simple silk blouse, and the understated jewelry prove that you wish to appear professional, not sexy. I assume that’s something you—as a woman in a male-dominated world—have to be attuned to. You’re every bit as intelligent as your male contemporaries and you are determined to be seen as such.”

  She shrugged, still struggling to recover from the needs he’d uncovered with just a few words and heated looks. “You’ve just described pretty much every woman in my profession.”

  “Are you daring me to dig deeper, Cait?”

  She shivered at the dark tone in his voice that felt almost possessive.

  She couldn’t play this game anymore. Couldn’t risk having him expose something she didn’t want to acknowledge, especially to him. “Why are you at this pub?”

  “You know why.”

  “Say it anyway.”

  “I want to buy it.”

  2

  Lucas would probably pay for showing his hand to the owner’s granddaughter, but there was something about Caitlyn Wallace that knocked him off-kilter. He didn’t like it. Found himself almost resenting her for it.

  When she’d accepted his invitation for a drink, he knew she was hoping to get him to reveal his secrets. Not that he had any.

  He’d made his intentions perfectly clear to her uncles and her mom. Lucas had known his first offer would be rejected. It was lowball, an insult probably, but he’d wanted to meet the owners, size them up. He didn’t go into any business deal without knowing all the facts. He had a filing cabinet drawer full of everything anyone would ever want to know about Patrick Collins, his late wife, Sunday, and their large brood of children and grandchildren.

  He had pictures of all of them, including their waitress, Ailis, and Caitlyn.

  It was her picture he’d studied the most. He hadn’t lied about her beauty. She took after her mother, with her long dark hair and striking pale blue eyes. They were the first things anyone who looked at her would see. And for any red-blooded heterosexual male, he didn’t doubt they were more powerful than a siren’s song, luring sailors to their death on the rocks.

  Seeing her tonight in person and being taken in by those crystal eyes revealed just how potent they truly were. And it wasn’t simply because of the color. It was the emotions reflected there that had ensnared him.

  So far he’d seen them flash with anger toward her ex, wariness toward him and genuine affection for her uncle and cousin.

  But more than that, he’d seen the one thing that could destroy all his well-laid plans.

  Caitlyn was a submissive.

  And he wanted her. Badly.

  Lucas was accustomed to getting what he set his mind on, but Caitlyn’s loyalty to her family would not be shaken, which currently put him in enemy camp.

  Her next words solidified that. “You’ll never get this pub.”

  “Never is a very dangerous word, Caitlyn. One that shouldn’t be tossed around lightly.”

  “That doesn’t apply in this situation. It’s merely a statement of fact.”

  Lucas knew when to push and when to retreat. No war was ever won by a single march forward. In order to win, he needed to stage a series of battles, plot his advancement and accept that with every victory, there was bound to be a loss or two. The only thing that truly mattered to him was who was still standing at the end.

  Four steps forward, three steps back still left him ahead at the end of the day.

  “I don’t want to be your enemy, Caitlyn.”

  “Then give up your quest.”

  The words “give up” weren’t in his vocabulary, weren’t in his genetic makeup, but she didn’t need to know that. Yet.

  “Fine.”

  Caitlyn narrowed her eyes in instant suspicion. “Fine?”

  “Fine. I’ll give up my quest—for now—on one condition.”

  He should have chosen his words more carefully. Lawyers always listen for the loophole. “For now?”

  He chuckled. “Wouldn’t you rather hear about the condition?”

  “No.”

  He leaned forward and grasped her hand. Though she tried to tug it away from him, tried to hide the slight tremor in it, he didn’t allow her retreat. He squeezed it gently, and then tightened his hold.

  As he expected, her breathing hitched and her face flushed an even darker shade of red. Her initial blush had sent far too much blood south of the border, his cock stiffening as he slowly began to realize what she desperately tried to hide.

  Caitlyn licked her lips. She was aroused, responding to his unyielding control.

  “I want you to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

  “That’s the condition?”

  He shook his head. “I’m attracted to you, Caitlyn. As you can imagine, that makes things,” he paused, searching for the right word, “difficult for me, given my present desires.”

  “The pub.”

  He nodded. “I never mix business with pleasure.”

  “Never is a very dangerous word.” Her tone, as she repeated his exact words back to him, revealed she was very pleased with herself.

  “You’re simply proving my point. I’m about to break that rule.”

  Caitlyn tried to draw her hand out of his grip once more, the action futile as he refused to relinquish it. Her eyes narrowed, no longer hazy with arousal. Now they flashed with anger. “I think you should lay out the terms of this condition as quickly as possible, because right now, I’m jumping to some terrible conclusions that make you look like the world’s biggest prick. I’m about two seconds away from throwing the rest of this Guinness in your face and letting my uncles and cousins beat you to a pulp.”

  His jaw clenched when he realized how all of this sounded. He was handling this like a ham-fisted novice. The damn woman had knocked him for a loop. “You misunderstand me. I’m not saying I’ll abandon my plan to buy this pub in exchange for sexual favors.”

  “Very wise of you.”

  “One date, Caitlyn
. I would like to go out with you on one date. We won’t discuss business at all.”

  She still didn’t trust his motives. “And at the end of the night?”

  “We’ll decide if we want a second date.”

  “What happens if we want a third, and a fourth date after that?”

  He sighed. “At some point, I hope you’ll allow me to outline my plans for this pub, let me explain why selling it to me won’t be the equivalent to making a deal with the devil.”

  Her face was resolute when she said once again, “We won’t sell to you.”

  “So you keep saying.” Lucas felt his attraction to her growing with each word she spoke. Her spine was straight, her shoulders stiff, her face imperious. Her determination to win only made her lovelier. And him more resolved.

  In the end, he hoped to have the pub. And Caitlyn.

  “Because it’s true.”

  “What you haven’t rejected yet is my invitation to a date.”

  She bit her lower lip briefly, drawing his attention to her mouth. He considered kissing her. It would take very little effort on his part to tug on the hand he held, to draw her closer. Part of him was tempted to try it simply to see exactly how many men in this pub would leap to her defense. He suspected half a dozen at least.

  “I wouldn’t suggest it,” Caitlyn said, leaning nearer. She had no idea how tempting she was.

  “Suggest what?”

  “Kissing me. You’re public enemy number one in here right now.”

  He fucking wanted her. His cock was stiff as a pike. “Say yes to my offer.”

  She still hesitated.

  Just as he thought. Her loyalty to her family ran deep. Very deep.

  However, there was something else buried next to devotion. Something fighting just as hard to make its way to the surface.

  He brushed his thumb along the top of the hand he still held. She hadn’t pulled away after her warning, which meant he only needed to lean forward the tiniest bit. Their lips were inches apart. “Say yes, Cait,” he whispered, perfectly aware of the demand lacing his tone.

  “Yes.” Her response was more breath than sound, but it was enough for him to hear.

  And it came a mere millisecond before three burly Irishmen surrounded their table.

  “Everything okay over here, Caitlyn?” her uncle Tris asked.

  She tried to tug her hand from his grip, but Lucas refused to relent, refused to show the slightest inkling of fear or weakness. The Collins men were clearly used to their intimidation techniques working. However, they’d never met a Whiting. Lucas’s father had written the manual on bullying.

  “Everything is fine,” Lucas said. “Caitlyn just agreed to go out with me tomorrow.”

  “She did no such thing,” Ewan insisted. All three men turned their attention to Caitlyn. Lucas wasn’t sure what reaction he expected from her, but it wasn’t what she did.

  She stood, no longer bothering to try to reclaim her hand. Instead, she squeezed his. Hard. Really fucking hard.

  As she did so, she faced down the other three men. “Actually, I did. Lucas and I are going out on a date.”

  “Lucas?” her cousin Colm—or possibly Padraig—said. Tristan had identical twin sons, so it was anyone’s guess which one this was. Lucas assumed it was Colm, because he looked the lawyer type and he’d walked in with Caitlyn earlier.

  “We’re not having this conversation right here in front of the entire pub,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m an adult and perfectly capable of making my own decisions, as you know.”

  Mr. Collins stepped next to Tris. “Am I missing something fun?”

  Lucas grinned at the old man’s jest, but the other four people at the table visibly stiffened.

  “No, Pop,” Tris said quickly. “Not at all.”

  Despite his advanced age, Patrick Collins appeared to be no one’s fool. He studied the hard expressions on his sons’ and grandson’s faces, then turned his attention to him and Caitlyn, his sharp gaze taking in the fact they were still holding hands.

  “Caitie-bug. Who’s your friend?”

  Lucas fought to keep his face impassive, trying to hide his surprise. Patrick Collins didn’t know who he was? This was an unexpected development.

  “This is Lucas,” Caitlyn said, purposely not saying his last name.

  Lucas stood and reached out with his free hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Collins.”

  “You too, son. You and my granddaughter here on a date?”

  Lucas could feel himself being sized up by Patrick, not as the man who wanted to buy his pub, but as the man who wanted to date his “Caitie-bug.”

  Lucas figured he’d probably be found more worthy to take the pub—and that was as likely as ice sculptures in hell.

  For now, however, he was focusing on the undercurrents pulsing around the table. Why hadn’t Patrick been told about his offer to buy the pub?

  “No, sir,” Lucas said. “We were just having a quick drink. She and I are going out tomorrow.”

  While the other men still didn’t seem to agree with that assertion, they held their tongues.

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. Been trying to get our Caitie to go out for months and have some fun. Are you a lawyer too, Lucas?”

  Lucas shook his head, enjoying the way Tristan’s jaw clenched tightly. He was just enough of a bastard to get a kick out of holding the upper hand. He had these men over a barrel, and all of them knew it. “I’m in real estate.”

  “Really? Do you—”

  “Look at that, Pop,” Ewan said, pointing to the TV screen. “The Caps just scored.”

  Patrick’s eyes lit up. “Hot damn.” He rubbed his hands together and turned back toward the bar. “I have twenty dollars riding on this game.”

  The older man returned to the bar and his cronies, all of them enjoying the replay and declaring there was no way the Caps weren’t capturing the Stanley Cup this year.

  “Shit,” Colm muttered, his eyes also glued to the TV.

  “You bet against Pop Pop? Wait. You bet against the Caps?” Caitlyn asked in disbelief. “Who are they playing?”

  “Pittsburgh,” Colm mumbled, as if he was embarrassed to say it too loud.

  “Pittsburgh?! We fucking hate Pittsburgh,” Caitlyn cried.

  “Language,” Patrick called out to his granddaughter from across the room.

  “Better not let your dad hear you say that,” Ewan warned, though it was obvious he approved of his niece’s disdain. “He’s never given up his love of the dark side, though God knows we’ve all tried to beat that loyalty out of him.”

  Lucas hoped the term “beat” was figurative. He’d heard this Irish clan was bloodthirsty when it came to sports, but brawling over them seemed extreme.

  “Your father roots for Pittsburgh?” Lucas asked.

  Caitlyn nodded. “Born and raised there.”

  Colm ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Caps goalie is on injured reserve. Everybody knows they’ve got nothing on the bench.” If Colm had felt any need to defend his cousin’s honor, it appeared the hockey game wiped it away as he returned to his stool at the bar, cursing the TV, the lost twenty, and the Penguins, not exactly in that order.

  “Are we finished now?” Caitlyn asked her uncles.

  “We’ll talk later,” Tris said, returning to the bar. Ewan gave her a worried look, but didn’t say anything more before heading back to the restaurant side.

  Lucas imagined she would be in for quite an earful from her uncles after he left.

  “Listen, Lucas, I don’t think—”

  She planned to back out. It wasn’t going to work.

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven.”

  “No, really—”

  “Why didn’t anyone tell Mr. Collins about my offer?”

  She grimaced. “We will. If it becomes necessary.”

  “Are you afraid he’ll accept it?”

  Caitlyn laughed. “You should probably do a little more research, be
cause it’s clear you don’t know the first thing about any of us.”

  Her words taunted him in a way she didn’t intend. Regardless, he reacted, ready to set her straight.

  “I know a lot more about you than you’re going to be comfortable with, Cait. Wear a dress tomorrow. And no panties.”

  Her cheeks pinkened, but not with anger, though that was certainly what she wanted him to believe. “You pompous son of a—”

  He gripped her waist with one hand, the other tipping her face up, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. “We’re not going to dance around the obvious. And I’m not going to let you deny who you are when you’re with me. Dress. No panties. That is the last time I will ever repeat my wishes to you. Do you understand?”

  Caitlyn blinked several times and for a moment, he wasn’t sure she was breathing.

  When she finally did respond, he was the one who had all the wind knocked out of his system.

  “Yes, sir.”

  3

  Caitlyn tugged down the hem of her dress and checked herself once more in the mirror. The black sheath came to mid-thigh, so there was no way anyone would know she was panty-less. Even so, she knew.

  She glanced at the bed, where she’d tossed her panties. She had pulled them on three times since getting dressed. And every time, she’d slipped them off again. The fact that she was following Lucas’s directive was driving her crazy. They’d only just met. Why on earth would she feel this unyielding need to obey him? He was nothing to her.

  “Shit,” she mumbled. This was not a man she should be going out with, let alone indulging in D/s play. She didn’t know Lucas Whiting from Adam, and she sure as hell didn’t trust him.

  She reached for her panties once again. And then she stuffed them in the drawer, putting them out of sight.

  Fuck me.

  This was bad. Very bad.

  She’d done her Google search on Lucas Whiting about three minutes after he’d left last night. And while she had found out quite a bit, she still had a million and twelve questions about him. Actually, all she’d really discovered, apart from his net worth and vast property dealings, was surface-y stuff. Details that told her nothing about the man he was underneath the skin. The only personal information she’d acquired was that he was thirty-nine years old and he hadn’t lied about his marital status…or lack thereof.