Caitlin's Hero (18 page)

Authors: Donna Gallagher

BOOK: Caitlin's Hero

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Suzanne set a wine glass in front of Deena and held out a half-empty bottle of wine.

“Something to wash down your treat, Deena?”

Deena started to nod her assent, but suddenly found her voice. She covered her glass with one hand then
nodded towards the bottle she’d brought
.

“Thanks, but I prefer the good stuff.”

A couple of the women covered their mouths to stifle giggles. Billy let out a single chuckle that conveyed delighted surprise.

Suzanne’s eyes widened, then she blinked. She put down her bottle of wine, and forced a smile. “Of course,” she managed.

Deena snagged the corkscrew and deftly opened the bottle, filled her glass, and took a sip.
She
closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the rich Cabernet. When she opened her eyes, Billy was still watching her.

Suzanne slid up beside him until they were touching. “Billy, I hope you’ve changed your mind and you’ll stay for a beer?”

Billy looked down at Suzanne, then back across the island. “Not much of a beer drinker. But I would like to sample that ‘Cab’, and one of these. If you don’t mind,” he said, reaching for an oatmeal raisin cookie.

Billy had actually moaned as he ate the cookie and was popping the last bite into his mouth by the time Suzanne returned with his wine glass.

“Incredible! Nothing like homemade,” he said.

Deena saw Suzanne’s eyes narrowed as she poured Cabernet into Billy’s glass. “Yeah, Deena’s quite the baker. I can’t even let that stuff into the house or I’d positively blimp out!”

Billy shook his head and gave Deena another wink. This time, Suzanne caught it. A look of surprised disgust crossed her face.

“Oh, God, Deena! What did you get all over yourself?”

Deena followed Suzanne’s gaze to the front of her shirt. She pulled the dark brown cotton away from her body and saw an uneven, horizontal trail of tan splotches just below her breasts.

Bleach. Shit!

“My washing machine,”
she
began. “It started banging around and I had to lean in and redistribute… Damn it, there must have been bleach on the edge…”

Deena felt her blush returning.

“You don’t still have that hideous old green thing, do you? You go and spend a small fortune remodelling the kitchen but you still do your
laundry
in that antique? I mean, really, Deena, why don’t you just—”

Billy interrupted, “Unbalanced during the spin cycle?”

Deena looked up and nodded.

“Have you had the belt replaced, or tightened?”

“I don’t think so,” Deena said.

“It’s an easy fix. Should probably try adjusting it first, then order a new belt if you need to. I could check it out if you’d like?”

Before Deena could answer, Suzanne dropped her hand on top of Billy’s, then traced a path up his thick forearm.

“So, Billy, how’d you like the wine?”

Billy’s
smile broadened and, never taking his eyes off Deena,
he
said, “Perfect. Just the way I like it, full-bodied and unpretentious.”

He
laughed and the hair stood up on Deena’s arms, there was something familiar about this big, beautiful man. Deena was drawn in by his eyes. She followed the faint laugh lines that fanned out towards his temples, stopping at an inch-long crescent moon scar framing the outside corner of his right eye like a parenthesis.

Deena focused on the scar. She looked into Billy’s blue eyes, back to the scar again, then scanned every inch of the handsome face. Recognition inched up on her until there was no denying it. She laughed and shook her head.

“Bill Swenson!”

Bill laughed. “Took you long enough, Dee,” he said as he shook free of Suzanne’s grip and walked around the island.

Deena was aware that the kitchen had grown silent, but, beyond that, she lost sense of her surroundings and who, besides Bill, was in the room. By the time he was standing in front of her, she had complete tunnel vision. He dropped his big, warm hands on her shoulders. “You look amazing, Dee.”

Deena looked into his blue eyes and wished she could believe him.

He wrapped his arms around her and, when he pulled her against him, she returned the hug. Bill bent his knees until their cheeks touched. Deena breathed in deeply. He smelt wonderful, masculine.
She
felt a chill zip up her spine. As if he’d felt the electrical surge beneath her skin, Bill pulled her in closer. He gave her one final squeeze, then backed up, taking
her
hands in his and looking her up and down. The sweep of his eyes over her body was as exciting as hugging him had been. Deena felt the tingle that had run the length of her spine gather again at her throat, then travel down over her breasts, making her nipples push outward against her shirt the moment his gaze passed over them. He continued to look over her and, when he got to her full, round hips, one side of his mouth tugged up in a devilish grin.
Her
pussy responded by growing warm and wet.

“I can’t believe you recognised me,” Deena said. “I was fifteen the last time we saw each other!”

Bill tapped the scar beside his eye and then winked at
her
. “What can I say, Dee? You made quite an impression.”

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About the Author

Sydney-born Donna Gallagher decided at an early age that life needed be tackled head on. Leaving home at fifteen, she supported herself through her teen years. In her twenties she married a professional sportsman, her love of sport—especially rugby league—probably overriding her good sense.

The seven-year marriage was an adventure. There were the emotional ups and downs of having a husband with a public profile in a sometimes glamorous but always high-pressure field. There were always interesting characters to meet and observe, and even the opportunity to live for a time in the UK.

Eventually Donna returned home a single woman, but she never lost her passion for watching sport, as well as the people in and around it.

Now happily re-married and with three sons, Donna loves coffee mornings with her female friends, sorting through problems from the personal to the international. But she’s on even footing with the keenest man when it comes to watching and talking rugby league.

Donna considers herself something of a black sheep in a family of high achievers. Her brother has a doctorate in mathematics and her sister is a well-known Australian sports journalist.

An avid reader, especially of romance, Donna finally found she couldn’t stop the characters residing in her imagination from spilling onto paper. Naturally, rugby league is the backdrop to her spicy tales of hunky heroes and spunky heroines overcoming adversity to eventually find true love.