Buying His Bride (The Donovan Brothers Trilogy Book 1) (9 page)

Standing at his oldest son’s side, Connor acknowledged Michael’s words with a nod and smiled when there was a smattering of applause.

“I have another piece of good news that I will hope bring my father and all our friends and family additional happiness.” He paused. “Sometimes the best things in life happen in the briefest spans of time. Sierra has just agreed to become my wife.”

Amid the exclamations of surprise, joy, and general congratulations that followed, Sierra caught a glimpse of Lydia Foster staring in disbelief and shivered at the expression on the older woman’s face. It was one of overt dislike.

Chapter Six

Michael walked into the foyer half an hour later as Sierra put on her coat. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for a cab to take me home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” It’s far too early, and anyway, our guests and my family will find it odd if I don’t drive you home myself.”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’ve had enough of this evening. You told me we’d be engaged at the end of a few months, not after only three meetings. I’m not ready for this.”

“Do you think I am?” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at her in exasperation.

Her ire grew. “Whose fault is that, I’d like to know? Whose hand was up my skirt with a roomful of guests less than twelve feet away?”

“Dammit, I’ve apologized for that!”

“You can apologize all you want! It doesn’t fix the situation.”

“No, it doesn’t. That’s the whole point. But the announcement of our engagement has. And our news has done my father more good than any doctor could. That’s all I care about.” Michael’s tone was inflexible. “Consider an accelerated engagement part of the process of rebranding me. A deal is a deal.”

Sierra got a glimpse of the ruthless businessman who had grown the Donovan empire many times over. “This time frame is not what we agreed on”

Connor emerged from the living room where their guests were still gathered. “Sierra, you’re not leaving already?”

Angry though she was, Sierra felt duty-bound in that moment to maintain the illusion to which she and Michael had committed themselves. Besides, even her brief glimpse of the senior member of the Donovan family had shown her Connor was as charismatic as his oldest son. She could grow fond of him.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Donovan, but I have an early morning call with an international client, and I need to get home to prepare.” With an apologetic glance and a mental crossing of fingers to make up for the white lie, she buttoned her jacket and picked up her purse.

The older man corrected her. “Call me Connor. In that case, I’ll let you go, but I look forward to seeing you again soon.”

The doorbell chimed, and the housekeeper opened the door to a cab driver. “I look forward to it as well, Connor. Michael’s angry with me for not letting him drive me home, but I wouldn’t dream of taking him away from your guests this early.”

Connor directed a look of heavy disapproval toward his son, and Michael shot a similar, even more condemning look at Sierra.

“I’m marrying a stubborn woman, Father. But if you must go, darling, then I’ll let you.” In a lightning-quick moment, he was at her side. Taking her in his arms, he kissed her once, fiercely. “This time,” he whispered against her lips, and the old man’s frown turned into an indulgent smile before Michael ushered her out the door.

****

“Can you check to make sure the alley is clear for the truck, Josh?” Grace called from the back office of Claddagh where she sat doing the books the next morning. “From the noise outside it sounds as if a car might be blocking it.”

Sierra rose from the chair at the next desk. “I’ll do it, Mother. Josh is out front sweeping the sidewalk before opening.”

She stepped into the rear alley, shading her eyes against the bright morning sun, attired in slim-fitting worn jeans and a crisp white shirt. A black belt circled her waist. Sure enough, a car of lost tourists was making its way down the steep alley, preventing the large delivery truck from getting through. Sierra waited until the car passed, then motioned the truck forward.

“Hey, Pete, sorry about that.” Saturday morning was one of Claddagh’s regular delivery days, and she knew the assorted drivers well.

“Hey yourself, beautiful.” A large, middle-aged man with tattoos on both forearms, and a huge grin returned Sierra’s greeting. “Man, out-of-town drivers are the worst, aren’t they?” Peter maneuvered the delivery truck into place next to the back entrance and hoisted his considerable girth out of the truck, giving Sierra a friendly clap on the shoulder.

“You
are
an out-of-town driver, Pete,” she laughed.

“But a good one! I’ve been driving this route for years. I’m talking about tourists.” Pete opened the truck’s back and began unloading a cargo of keg after keg of the assorted beers and ales for which Claddagh was so well known.

“It’s the time of year for them.” Sierra stepped aside to give him room. Their pub benefited from the late-summer trade.

“Yup. Good for business.” Pete rolled the kegs one by one onto a hand truck and moved them to the back door of the pub. “Speaking of which, how
is
business?”

It seemed as if everyone, not just Pete, knew Claddagh had been in dire financial straits for the past year. Longer, to tell the truth. Sierra knew his question was well intended but she had yet to figure out how to explain to her mother—let alone anyone else—that their financial problems were as good as over.

She put the thought of the previous evening’s cocktail party out of her mind, along with its precipitous announcement of her engagement. While she was at it, she stowed the unpleasant memory of a hostile Lydia as well.

Cautiously she prevaricated. “Things might start looking up soon. People have been really great in the meantime, despite our troubles.”

He guffawed as he hoisted a keg. “They come for my deliveries, your mother’s shepherd’s pie, and your beautiful self, darlin’, and you know it. No one’s taking pity on you two. We just know good folks when we see them.”

So did Sierra and Grace. Pete had often been willing to defer payment on his deliveries in the past months, making excuses to distributors and knowing the two women would eventually make good on their promise to pay.

They had until the last three months.

Sierra had been relieved to be able to settle their account out of the first funds Michael had transferred.

“Is Josh around? Can he take care of these for you if I put them here?”

“Sure can!” Josh was a full-time San Francisco State graduate student whom Sierra and Grace had hired part-time to do some of the heavier chores around Claddagh. He jogged up the alley from around the corner. “Hey, Pete, how’s it going?” In his early thirties with a young wife and a baby on the way, Josh worked out regularly and could heft even the heaviest of kegs with ease. He tended bar on occasion as well. He and a few regulars also helped serve food. The staff was like family.

Leaving the two men to do their work, Sierra returned to the back office, trying to figure out how to the break the news to Grace that she and Michael were engaged.

A couple of dates were one thing. An engagement was another.

A sudden wave of panic engulfed her. What the hell was she doing?

What you must, that’s what, Sierra told herself as she walked into the office. You’re making good on old debts, you’re saving your mother’s livelihood and a neighborhood landmark, you’re building the future of Claddagh, and you’re not hurting anyone or anything in the process, including yourself.

A knock at the entrance sounded through the empty pub. Grace, glasses, perched on her nose, looked up from the computer screen. “Now, who on earth could that be? Everyone knows we aren’t open yet.”

Sierra shrugged. “Another delivery, maybe? I’ll answer it.”

To her surprise, it was Michael.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “You didn’t have to bring me flowers. They won’t make up for last night.”

“Temper, temper.” He stepped through the entrance carrying a gorgeous bouquet of summer blooms. “I see you got home safely last night.”

“Of course I did,” Sierra snapped, in no better of a mood now than the night before.

What was it about this man that got under her skin?

Probably the same thing that makes your pulse race, she thought, before she stifled the idea.

“You didn’t text me to tell me so, as I asked you to do.”

“That’s because you’re not my keeper, and I didn’t think it was necessary.” Did he really think she would fall in line with any request he made? “You can take those flowers away. I don’t want them.”

Michael grinned. “As it happens, they aren’t for you, though if I’d known you’d be so interested, I’d certainly have brought some for you as well.”

“Whom are they for?”

“Your mother,” he replied. “You said she’s here most mornings doing the accounts.”

“Why are you bringing my mother flowers?”

“I thought it was the least I could do when I ask for her only child’s hand in marriage.” Michael smiled blandly. “Where is she?”

Anger and panic assailed her. Events were unfolding too quickly for her comfort, and Michael didn’t have the right to call all the shots. They had signed a contract, and she didn’t agree with the high-handed way he was handling their bargain now.

“Sierra,” her mother called from the back. “Who was at the door?”

Before she could reply, Michael turned and made his way through the pub’s booths and tables with chairs upended on top of them toward the rear of Claddagh. Infuriated, Sierra made a beeline after him and grabbed his arm just before he reached the doorway to the office.

“You can’t do this,” she whispered. “Not without my okay. Grace is my mother, and I won’t have you upsetting her!”

Michael stilled. His skin was warm beneath her hand. He wore black jeans, boots, and a black t-shirt today that did nothing to hide the sculpted muscles of his body. They were a major contrast to the hand-tailored suits as well as last night’s garb, but the casual attire suited him well. Sierra snatched her hand away. He smiled, as if he were all too aware of the effect any touch of their bodies had on her.

“It’s not my intention to upset her. It’s my intention to accord her the respect she’s due as your mother and ask permission to marry you.” His tone was low but inflexible. “You can make this easy by convincing her we’ve swept each other off our feet, or you can make it hard. Your choice, Sierra.”

She glared at him.

“I advise you to abide by the terms of our contract.”

“Could you be any more arrogant?” she asked, not hiding her sarcasm.

Michael smiled. “Try me.” He walked to the office to greet her mother.

Twenty minutes later, Sierra fought frustration while Michael charmed Grace and talked with her in friendly fashion.

Grace was pleased by his gift of flowers and sent Sierra to dig out a vase from one of the storerooms. Sierra stood at a table, half an ear on the two as they chatted in the next room. Arranging the stems and greenery gave her the perfect excuse to escape Michael’s presence. First last night’s unexpected steamy encounter on the veranda, then his appearance here this morning.

He wasn’t an easy man to ignore. That was an understatement.

Plenty of men were good-looking, Sierra told herself, refusing to take a mental inventory of the specifics as she had a sneaking suspicion it would render her either weak-kneed, breathless, or both.

No, looks alone didn’t account for what he had. A compelling mix of command, rapier-sharp intelligence, and—much as Sierra hated to admit it—concern for others for whose wellbeing he considered himself responsible were part of the sexy package that made up Michael Donovan.

It was concern for his father that had prompted their outrageous marriage contract, after all. She appreciated his concern. Her own concern for her mother had motivated her agreement to their bargain. Michael had been a considerate companion on their first date, and if sparks seemed to fly, she had to admit he had never taken things further than she had allowed.

Unlike William, who turned out not to be worth the virginity she’d given him.

Sierra snipped a long-stemmed yellow rose and inserted it in the vase, feeling heat pool at the juncture between her thighs as she recalled Michael’s hands slipping up her skirt.

Why had she melted under his touch? If they hadn’t been discovered in such a compromising situation, they could have forestalled the announcement of their engagement a few more weeks, allowing her time to get used to the situation. Now, however, there was no time at all.

Before she knew it, she heard Michael ask Grace’s permission to marry her. She took a deep breath as her mother called. “Sierra!” Surprise was evident in the single word.

Sierra gave the vase a final pat and walked into the office to set it on Grace’s desk. Time to face the music. “Yes, Mom?”

Knowing the scene demanded it, Sierra moved toward Michael who, as naturally as if he were a real fiancé, put his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple as they faced her mother. She had to make this good. Her mother knew her well and would be aware of the sound of a false note.

“Is it true?” Grace asked with some concern. “You two are engaged? So quickly?”

To Sierra’s surprise, she derived comfort from Michael’s presence. It was ridiculous because he was also the author of her current predicament.

She put her own arm around his waist and rested a hand on his chest. Lights, camera, action. “Yes, it’s true. I know it’s kind of crazy, but”—his hand press warningly against her—“we both know the way we feel about each other, and so we’ve decided to, uh, you know…” Despite her best intentions, Sierra stumbled over the words as she encountered her mother’s sincere gaze.

Crap.

“Grace, what I think Sierra is trying to say is, we realize this is sudden, but when you know something is right, it’s right.” Michael looked at her mother and gave Sierra a moment to regain her equilibrium. “This feels right to both Sierra and me. I think I can speak for both of us when I say we hope we have your blessing.”