Then he tried for two days to get her out of his system. And failed. He went on a date with another woman, thinking all he needed to do was get laid and that would end the constant images of Kayla bombarding his thoughts. But by eight o’clock he’d had enough and bailed, not feeling particularly proud of himself, but not prepared to sleep with one woman when he was thinking about another.
So, despite knowing it would be like walking a minefield, he’d called her up and asked her out. And got shot down like a duck in hunting season. He tried again three days later and when her answer was the same, decided he would forget all about her. When she started dating the cowboy he knew it was ridiculous to spend his nights thinking about her and for months he embarked on a series of meaningless one-night stands, but they did nothing to get his attraction for Kayla out of his system. Then she broke up with the cowboy and he had a clear playing field.
Still, she resisted him for months. And not having her, he discovered, made him want her even more.
And then one afternoon, when he arrived at the museum for a meeting, everything changed. She’d been flustered, out of sorts, not her usual calm and collected self. And then she’d turned, dragged him toward her by the collar and kissed him. Hotly. Frantically. As though it was the last thing in the world she wanted to do, but the one thing she had to do.
Within a week they were lovers, which had only intensified his desire to make her his own. And the more time they spent together and he got to know her, Liam’s desire for Kayla turned into something else, something more and something that went way beyond physical attraction. Liam hadn’t agreed with her insistence they remain secretive about their relationship, but he’d let her have her way at first, too crazy for her to deny her anything. But as the months slipped by he knew things had to change, particularly once they were married. He’d grown tired of sneaking around and pretending to their friends and family that they weren’t together. She was his. He loved her and he wanted the world to know it.
“Liam, do you have a minute?”
He looked toward the open door. His assistant, Connie Bedford, stood in the doorway, wearing the skirt and jacket that was a signature of the hotel. Connie had worked at the hotel since she’d left high school, first on the front desk, and for the past few years as his administrative assistant. She was a sweet-natured young woman in her midtwenties who was hardworking, loyal and a godsend, and he always took note when she told him he was taking her for granted. She was also the only person who knew he was involved with Kayla, although she was too polite to ever mention it.
He beckoned her into the office. “Sure, what’s up?”
Connie came into the room and dropped a few files on his desk. “I need some signatures,” she explained and smiled. “And the new sous chef wants to see you today.”
He groaned inwardly. Temperamental chefs were not on his radar when he was consumed with thoughts of his wife and the state of his marriage. But he still had a business to run and spent the next ten minutes with Connie, discussing a few issues regarding the hotel. By the time Connie left, his irritation had eased and he managed to get through the remainder of the afternoon without snapping the heads off any of the staff. The hotel ran 24/7, with twenty-two rooms over three floors, the restaurant and a bar, and two conference rooms that were regularly booked out. It employed over thirty-five locals on staff and was renowned for its comfort, ambience and service. Liam demanded nothing less and ran a tight ship.
There were several dude ranches just out of town that catered to big-city corporations wanting to use the experience as a bonding exercise for employees, or to city-dwellers longing for the typical cowboy experience. And since O’Sullivans was the best hotel within a hundred miles, it meant business was good. Better than good. The O’Sullivan coffers were compounding every day. He had wealth and success and a job that continued to be challenging, and the only thing missing from his life was a family of his own.
A wife. A child.
Kayla was his wife. And she might be carrying his child.
Longing, raw and intense, seeped through his blood. He’d never been in love before. He’d never experienced the heavy ache in his chest that he felt when he was away from her.
He’d lived an entitled life, one of wealth and of little struggle. The one painful point was his sister’s death... Before that it had been easy street. But loving Kayla was changing him completely. He didn’t want to upset her, hurt her or see her struggle with her divided loyalties...especially when he knew there was more pain to come. Despite their agreed-upon deadline for telling their parents their secret, ultimately he had no real idea what he would do when that time was up. Of course, he could tell his own parents first and then deal with the fallout, forcing Kayla into action. But he wasn’t sure how he could do that without hurting the woman he loved.
Liam got to his feet and stretched his shoulders again. His office was on the second floor and from the long window behind his desk he had a view of the entire length of Main Street. The town, with its population of a few thousand, had one set of traffic lights, shop fronts that were both old and new, and well-maintained sidewalks. Until six months ago there had been two towns, separated by a river and a bridge. But after ten years of negotiating, the towns had merged, unified by the need to pool resources and create a stronger, more viable economy, taking advantage of commuters passing through the town on their way toward the state line. Cedar River was an old copper and silver mining town and Mount Rushmore and the Black Hills were within driving distance, so the town had plenty to offer tourists. The O’Sullivan portfolio of land and commercial property was vast, and Liam was proud of everything his father and grandfather had done since settling in the area sixty years earlier. His father, John-Dexter—or J.D. as he was known—had retired several years ago, handing the reins to Liam full-time, but still liked to show his face around the hotel. Liam didn’t mind, since he got on well with his dad and hoped that one day he’d have a son or daughter who would follow in his own footsteps. That day suddenly seemed like a real possibility. And he was happy. Foolishly happy, despite the turmoil churning through his head.
His cell rang, cutting through his thoughts. It was his mother, reminding him that he’d agreed to meet with her to discuss several upcoming charitable events in town—including the hospital benefit that was being held at the art gallery in a couple of weeks. He’d been working on the project with Kayla, and not only would it raise much-needed funds for the hospital, but it would give several of the local artists an opportunity to showcase their work and he knew that it was important to her.
Liam shut down his laptop, grabbed his jacket and keys and headed downstairs to the foyer and reception desk. The restaurant and bar were off to the left and even though it was early, it looked like there was already a good crowd inside. There were other pubs in town, like Rusty’s or the newly opened Loose Moose tavern. But O’Sullivan’s was different—the modern decor was complemented by a traditional Irish feel and was accompanied by exemplary service and great food.
He spotted his mother the moment he stepped through the elevator. Gwen O’Sullivan was a tall, statuesque woman in her late fifties with short silvery hair and a timeless style she’d gained as a model in her youth. She was quiet and reserved, the total opposite of her blustery, well-meaning but often misunderstood husband. Liam knew he was more like his mother than his brothers. Sean, a movie producer in LA, was confident and brash and an admitted womanizer. Liam doubted his youngest brother would ever settle down and ditch his fast life. Kieran, who was a doctor at a hospital in Sioux Falls, was a well-balanced sort of man with a positive outlook on pretty much everything, despite a messy divorce a year earlier. As he looked at his mother he was reminded of Liz, his sister, who’d died three years ago.
Liz and his mom had been close and he knew his mother grieved deeply for the daughter she’d lost. At times there was a hollowness to his mother’s expression that seemed unable to be healed by anything, except perhaps the time she spent with her grandchildren, Liz’s three young daughters. But his sister’s husband, Grady, had recently remarried and he knew his mother worried that she wouldn’t see the girls as much. However, despite the fact that he’d never much liked Grady Parker and didn’t believe the horse