Where the Streets have no Name (6 page)

The man who was sitting at the table now stood blocking the door. The same hate-filled glare Daniel saw on everyone who recognised him was on this man’s face too.

“I-I…I don’t want any trouble,” Daniel said, hands held up in surrender.

“Bloody bastard,” Moira spat from behind him.

Daniel swore he’d never do it, but he hadn’t a choice in the matter. He needed to get out of here and back to Amelia. The man at the door was shorter by a full head, and Daniel had at least two stone (about twenty-eight pounds) over the man, mostly muscle. He wasn’t a violent person, but this situation called for a little self-defence.

Pain radiated through the back of his head. Someone struck him!

Daniel winced, turning, and saw Moira holding a bain marie pan, swinging her thick, wobbly arms back to strike again. He wasted no time. Facing the door again, he shoved the other man out of his way and pushed the door open, running across the street without checking for cars. One swerved and nearly hit him, but carried on with a few curses called out the window after him.

He didn’t stop until he got into Amelia’s car, and even then, he switched the engine on and sped away from the scene, paying no mind to his seatbelt or the cracking pain shooting through his skull.

Amelia was saying something. Asking questions no doubt. But he had to get further away. All he needed now was for one of them in the shop to ring up the
Gardaí
and send them after him.

Since he returned from the take-out place, running like a maniac was hot on his heels and driving like he had to escape the scene of a crime, Daniel barely spoke two words to her. The difference between needing space and hiding things had been clear to her for many years, and right now, Daniel was hiding something.

But what?

They couldn’t find anywhere in the little town they stopped at for lunch. The rain fell too hard and Daniel wouldn’t answer her when she asked if they’d given him some options. They were lucky to come across this little caravan park, as Daniel called it, with fully stocked caravans to stay in for the night.

Daniel bought a few frozen pizzas from the little on-site store, bread and peanut butter and honey for breakfast, and some snacks for later. They settled in for the night, the sound of lashing rain battering the roof.

Amelia sat propped up on the converted table/bed, watching him stare blankly through the rain. What happened in there? Something happened. She knew it did. He was a different guy when he came back out.

Oh no, had someone recognised him?

Damn, she’d thought he’d be all right. Fifteen years was a long time and he didn’t look too much like his younger self. Unless an over-zealous reporter caught wind and snapped his picture recently. She decided to take his mind off everything by pestering him. It worked with her parents, she mused, grinning.

“So
…” She began, crossing her uninjured leg under the other, which she left straight “…what do you want to do tonight?”

Daniel turned from his spot by the
window wearing a vacant expression. Whatever happened, he wanted to hide it from her. “I dunno, lass. No telly. Pissing down with rain. Doesn’t give us many options, does it?”

Was he nervous?

Amelia grinned. If he was, she had only one thing for it. And maybe if he loosened up a little, she could get to know the man behind the gorgeous body and brooding mind.

“Can you go in my suitcase and get something for me
, please?”

“Of course.” He pushed to his feet and began crossing the room.

Long strides showcased his powerful thighs beneath soft denim. The grey t-shirt stretched over broad shoulders and thickly knotted muscle from his pecs down to his abs. Daniel’s arms flexed with each movement. He stopped at her suitcase and bent down to pull the zipper, giving her a perfect view of his ass.

Her
tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Eye lids drooped. And her pulse slammed hard and fast against her ribcage.

“What are you wantin’ from in your case?”

“Uh…” Amelia swallowed. He stole coherence from her using only his body, and he didn’t know he was doing it.

“Jaysus, this is a bloody big bottle of whisky you’ve got in here!” He pulled it out, examining the label.
“You’ve got to be feckin’ jokin’ lass.” Daniel spun on his heels, holding the bottle like he would a newborn baby. “There’s no way. You can’t…”

A smirk played on her lips. “I like single malt. What can I say?”

“Aye, but a thirty-four year old, rare production triple cask-aged single malt costing more than most people make in a month? No, two months!” He shook his head, disbelief clouding his eyes. “I’m frightened to ask how you came across this bottle, and what you intend to do with it.”

“Drink it, silly!” Amelia held out her hand and Daniel slowly, reluctantly,
passed the bottle to her. “It was a gift, and the instructions were clear: enjoy it with someone important. So grab those two glasses from the desk and take a seat next to me.”

“You’ve gone mad. Me? Amelia, I can’t…can’t drink that. I’m not–”

“You
are
important and you
will
drink it.” She put on her best ‘do as I say’ face. “Glasses, Daniel. Now.”

Mumbling a few choice words, Daniel grabbed the two tumblers and joined her on the bed. She would have liked ice to go with it, but Poppa always said a good single malt needed to be
served neat; in a glass, on its own, and savoured.

After peeling off the wrapper covering the stopper top, Amelia pulled it open, then poured two measures in each glass. She handed one to Daniel and smiled, saying, “To new friends.”

“And loved ones no longer with us,” Daniel said, touching his glass to hers.

She glanced to the left where he’d set Poppa’s urn down when they came in from the rain. Daniel had told her to wait a minute and grabbed the urn, covering it with a clean, dry sweater. He’d run straight into the caravan returning a few minutes later for her. The man touched her with his sincerity and compassion time and time again.

How could people think him capable of the horrendous crime they convicted him of?

Her eyes filled with a fresh sluice of tears, threatening to spill over the banks with the force of Niagara Falls.
Half due to the searing agony of losing the one person who seemed to understand her wholly; the other half of her wanted to weep for everything Daniel lost.

Amelia hid behind her glass, drinking down the amber whiskey. Felt like someone poured gasoline down her throat and tossed a match in for good measure. She coughed
and spluttered, unprepared for the sting.

Daniel chuckled, sliding a hand behind her back. A few gentle but firm thumps
later, she nodded her thanks.

“Not used to it?”

Amelia smiled an impish smile. “I might have lied when I said I’ve had whisky before.”

His laughter boomed in the small space, rich and baritone and comforting. “You should
take some water with it then. All you do is have your sip of whiskey, then chase it with a sip of water.”

Wearing a grimace she couldn’t hide, Amelia gave in. “Okay. Water sounds good.”

His laughter followed him to the small galley kitchen and back again. He handed her a tall glass of water, answering the question she hadn’t asked. “I’ll not have you getting drunk, Amelia.”

Her chin jutted out in challenge. “What if I want to?”

“Damn, but you’re a stubborn one.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Have you been drunk before?”

No sarcasm in his voice, only genuine curiosity. “Just how innocent do you think I am? I’m twenty-five, Daniel, not a child.”

“Ah, damn. I never said you were.” A nervous hand rubbed over his mouth. “It’s just, well, it’s not good for you, or anyone, for that matter. Binge drinking. My Da…” He stopped suddenly, like he hadn’t meant to bring up his father a second time.

He needed distracting. Amelia downed the rest of her drink. Then she gulped half the glass of water.
“Okay, I know what we can do.”

“Oh?” Daniel quirked a brow. “
What’s that then?”

“I ask you a question,
” Amelia said, “and you answer. Then you can ask me something and I’ll answer.”

“Sounds…dangerous.”

“Come on,” she said, pushing her elbow into his ribs and laughing. “It’ll be fun.”

“Fun. It’ll be fun, she says.” Annoyance flickered between them, originating with him. “I dunno, Amelia. What if you ask me something I can’t answer?”

“You mean
won’t
answer.”

“So? Maybe I won’t. I told you before, lass. You don’t know me.”

She’d never met anyone so infuriating! Closed off one second, almost completely open the next, and then back to shutting down. “So let me get to know you. It won’t hurt, you know.”

“Says you,” he muttered.

“I’ll prove it to you.” Amelia thought for a minute. Something innocuous. “Ah, okay. What’s your all-time favourite food? Something you would eat forever?”

“That’s easy,” he told her, grinning. “Chips and curry sauce.”

Amelia revelled in his smile. “See? It’s not like pulling teeth at all!”

He rolled his eyes. “Aye, not yet. So I suppose it’s my go then.” Daniel stroked his chin while he thought.
“Do eh, do you have a boyfriend back home?”

“Nope.” She watched both his eyebrows shoot high over his eyes. “Like I said, I’m not one for crowds. I work with computers.”

“Computers…” Daniel looked at her, hiding his thoughts again.

If she possessed a shred of bravery, she’d tell him she knew all about his past, and that she didn’t believe it. But chances were he’d take offence to her snooping. Best to leave it for now, she thought.

“Well, it’s my turn now,” Amelia said, cutting whatever he might have said off. “If you could go on vacation tomorrow, anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?”

“Hmm…” He sipped his whiskey, drinking it like he kissed her earlier
– softly, sensually. “I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’ve never left the isle. And I don’t much mind the rain.” For a minute, it looked like he’d continue, but Daniel shook his head, as if signifying the end of his answer. “Are you ticklish?” he asked, one dark brow raised.

Amelia gave her best devilish grin. “I’m not telling you
that. You might use it against me or something.”

“There are ways to find out, you know.”

It was her turn to quirk a brow. “Is that a threat, Daniel?”

He grinned.

Her pulse tripled.

“I dunno,” he spoke low, sensual. “
Might be. Try me again, lass. Are you ticklish?”

She pushed her lips in a firm line and waited.

In a flash, Daniel lunged, pinning her hands above her head in one fist. He slid his other hand down to her stomach and tickled her. Amelia’s giggles turned into frantic laughter. She begged him to stop, her entire body shaking under his forced tickling. Her knee came up, close to his groin, and Daniel dropped his body down on hers, pushing her into the mattress.

The mood changed from playful to sizzling hot in less than a second.

“I guess that answers that then,” Daniel murmured, his gaze sliding from her eyes down to her mouth.

Heat from his breath fanned her lips. Heat from his body burned her desires into overdrive. She felt him against her inner thigh, thick and long and rock-solid.

“I…I think it’s your go now,” Daniel said. His voice shook.

Amelia nodded but she couldn’t think of anything to ask him.
Her mind raced. A thousand and one innuendos. Every granite muscle in his abdomen clenched above her.

“Kiss me,” she begged.

His lips parted. A gust of hot air bathed her chin. His tongue traced along the fullest part of his bottom lip, then his teeth. “Is that a question, lass?”

He wanted
her to ask it as a question? When did she become a contestant on
Jeopardy
?

She
continued waiting, looking up into his eyes. They searched her face for an eternity. Millions of seconds passed. Or was it just one? She couldn’t tell. It felt like forever and an instant, wrapped into one. His strong arms framed her body; one still held her hands above her head. She was powerless to him.

And yet he held himself back. Why? Was he waiting for permission? He kissed her just fine
, earlier on the beach. So why not now? What stood in his way?

Not her, that’s for certain. Amelia needed his lips on hers like she needed oxygen.

Finally, she gave in. “Kiss me?”

She swore she saw the fine fibres of his restraint snap.

In a show of strength and sensual need, Daniel’s mouth slanted over hers. His fingers sunk into her hair, angling her head to plunder the warmth of her mouth deeper. Harder. At the first thrust of his hips, pressing the ridge of his erection over the sensitive knot of flesh at the top of her folds, Amelia was gone. Desperate for more.

Needing more of a connection, she wrapped her legs around his hips, curling into him, rising up to meet him thrust for thrust. She hadn’t the voice to ask for what she didn’t know and he held her hands so tight the skin chafed but she didn’t care. It all added to the sensory experience of
everything Daniel. The heat; the friction; the delicious ache building up where her thighs met.

A low moan escaped her, back arched, breasts pressed to his chest.