A Time Apart: Book One of The Macauley Series Page 5
She was so captivated by William Macauley that even before meeting him she was ready to sleep with him. That was so very unlike her.
What was he doing to her? Why was she reacting this way? Why did she even care? Olivia spent the next few minutes considering those questions, becoming somewhat angry with herself for thinking that her intruding on his life for a book he’d likely never read was worth his time.
To obtain the information she needed to bring a level of integrity to her heroine’s plight, Olivia would need to dig into the lives of the people around her to understand the culture, and better know what makes the people of Ireland so unique – that is, learn what drove the indomitable Irish spirit. In the process, she would have also tried to get Mr. Macauley to divulge why he had sank a fortune in cash to restore what would otherwise have become an ancient crumbling ruin off the tourist path. Olivia’s best guess was that there was a personal story there, one that he hadn’t yet shared and probably never would. If she was being honest, she could almost understand why he didn’t want to meet with her.
So now Olivia had two choices. She could close the chapter on William Macauley and forget she had ever seen his home or that she’d dreamed of him touching her body so intimately that it now hummed at the thought of meeting him in person, or she could call him back to apologize for having bothered him in the first place, and promise that it wouldn’t happen again. Actually, if she was thinking at all logically, there was a third option available to her – forget him and the castle entirely and never contact him again. But other parts of Olivia, the ones not controlling her ability to use logic or reasoning, were urging her to pick up the phone so that she could hear his voice say her name again. Olivia had to admit it: she had it bad.
Not wanting to overthink it, Olivia checked her incoming call list, scrolled to the most recent local number, and hit send before chickening out. One ring, two rings, three rings passed. She was ready to hang up when a voice on the other end of the line said hello. All of her previous courage went flying out the window and she paused long enough for an irritated voice to ask if anyone was there. Panicked that William would hang up before she could speak, Olivia launched into what sounded like a very lame attempt at an apology. Her hands were shaking and her knees felt weak.
Get a grip on yourself, Olivia. He’s just a man like any other.
“Hi Mr. Macauley, this is Olivia Donnelly returning your phone call. I wanted to apologize for intruding on your privacy and hope that you would forgive me for my previous request – ” He cut her off before she could speak any further.
“Ah, but you’re intruding on my privacy now, aren’t you?” he asked. Hell. Olivia had to admit that he was right.
“Um, yes. I guess so. But I wanted to tell you that I was sorry for assuming you’d be interested in helping me …”
“Apology accepted,” he replied before Olivia could say anything more. “Now, was there anything else you wanted?” irritation lacing his voice.
Olivia paused. Was there anything else? No, there was nothing she could say that would make any sense as she couldn’t very well tell him that she that had fantasized about him making hot, urgent, demanding love to her while he had her pinned up against a brick wall. Just thinking about how she couldn’t say any of that to him but how she would willingly do all of it should he ask had her stomach, and other places much lower, in knots. No, that was absolutely the most inappropriate thing to say. Even though Olivia now knew he was a rude, arrogant asshole, she couldn’t bring herself to want the conversation to end.
One orgasm based on fantasy and she was hooked on her idea of who he was, even if the reality wasn’t living up to the hype.
Before she could stop herself, Olivia blurted out, “I’d like to make it up to you by taking you out to dinner. Coffee? Drinks? … Whatever.”
This time it was his turn to pause before speaking.
“That’s a very odd request seeing as how we don’t really know one another and the extent of our communications thus far have been me declining your previous request. You’re a rather determined girl, aren’t you? But let me ask you this, what makes you think my answer would be any different this time?”
Olivia didn’t know how to answer that question, and realizing that he was absolutely right, she felt the blood rush to her ears, face, and throat in embarrassment. Thank goodness she was alone because she was now thoroughly humiliated by not only his previous dismissal, but by his fresh reminder of it. Thankfully, she was only mortified for the briefest of moments. In a matter of seconds, Olivia went from being embarrassed to sulking and then downright pissed off, and when she was angry – despite tears that usually spilled like traitors from my eyes – she was a force to be reckoned with. William was about to find himself on the receiving end of the fury and frustration that Olivia carried locked within.
“Mr. Macauley, I can see you’re an asshole of the highest order, so I won’t waste any more of your time. I was being polite – clearly something your mother never taught you – by extending my apology. But let me remind you, you’re the one who instigated this phone call by insulting me and egging me on. So before you think you’re somehow the better person in this conversation, let me squash that notion and assure you that you are not. You may be an important man here in Ireland and you may think you’re above reproach, but again, you’re not. You’re a rude, arrogant, egotistical son of a bitch who can go fuck himself.”
Olivia hung up the phone, shaking with anger. Sometimes she wished she still lived in the days of rotary phones – they slammed down so much more satisfyingly.
CHAPTER 6
If Olivia had stopped to consider that she was in a hotel and not in her own apartment, she might have felt badly for whoever was staying in the room below because for the next 45 minutes she stomped back and forth across the suite, wearing a trail of footprints in the rug while also screaming out a few choice expletives any sailor would have been proud of. Unfortunately despite this display of righteous fury, her anger hadn’t abated. Instead, she found that she was now angrier at herself than she was with William Macauley.
Despite the fact that she found him sexually alluring, or that she was repulsed by his ego, she was livid over the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Olivia told herself that any man so condescending to someone he didn’t even know wasn’t worth her time, and yet time was exactly what she was spending obsessing over him.
While Olivia may not have had much to say to Heather before, this little gem of an incident was certainly worth a phone call to discuss how she had been in a country most renowned for its hospitality and warmth for only one day and yet she’d managed to come across the rudest asshole on the planet. Her luck was legendary. Sadly, Olivia didn’t get the satisfaction of a good old-fashioned rant as Heather’s phone went straight to voicemail. She left her friend a short, cryptic message telling her that she’d met a man and that she’d want to know all about it, hoping the vague update would entice Heather to call her back the second she got the message.
With nothing else to do, Olivia simply sat in her room for a long while afterward, thinking over everything she had seen, heard, and experienced since arriving in Ireland. Every so often she’d glance around the room and think that she should be doing something, but mostly she just stayed sitting in her chair, staring at her phone, imagining and re-imagining what she would say if she ever got the chance to speak with the scourge.
As the hours passed, the room became darker and Olivia probably would have sat there all night but her stomach was telling her that it was time to stop acting like a fool and get some food. She ordered room service and climbed into bed with her laptop so that she could get caught up on her favorite blogs and read the headlines from around the globe.
About an hour had passed when she checked her inbox one last time before closing up her computer for the night. To her utter astonishment she had one new message – from William.
To: Olivia Donnelly
From: William Macauley
Date: September 1, 2014
Subject: Intrigued
I’ve never had anyone call me an asshole to my face (or via phone, for that matter), although it’s probably not the first time someone has wanted to call me one. Whereas I’ll admit I wasn’t before, I am now very intrigued by you. I enjoy a woman with a backbone and steely determination.
- William Macauley
Olivia’s heart skipped a proverbial beat. She didn’t want to care what this man – who she didn’t really know at all, she reminded herself – thought of her, and yet she couldn’t deny that not only did she care, but that she cared more than she should.
Who is he to me, after all?
Olivia had never been a sucker for love, nor had she ever believed the hogwash about love at first sight, so her reactions to him were very startling. It was as if her brain and her heart, in cahoots with one another, had decided without her consent to feel an overriding attachment to him. Of course there were other parts of her that felt things too.
Olivia could ignore him – make him sweat it out a bit – or she could respond. She had never been one to play games and she would have hated it if some man was sitting in his hotel room thinking about ways to make her squirm – and not in the utterly delicious way that she eventually wanted to.
But what would she say? Could she tell him that regardless of his change of tune that she still thought he was a first-class jackass? Or would she say that she didn’t need his approval and that she found his note to be even more condescending than her conversation with him?
Or … I could play coy, but what would be the point in that?
After all, Olivia had already decided that William was not a man she actually cared to know in any capacity outside of her one rather luscious fantasy starring him the night before. Surely she would meet another fantastic Irish man that would make her interest in this one look like a third grade crush. Here today, gone tomorrow. Right?
Who was she kidding? Of course she was going to respond.
To: William Macauley
From: Olivia Donnelly
Date: September 1, 2014
Subject: Intrigued?
Should I care that you now deign to find me intriguing? Am I supposed to be flattered?
Her note sent, Olivia sat staring at her inbox, inwardly willing a new message to appear. After three minutes it did.
To: Olivia Donnelly
From: William Macauley
Date: September 1, 2014
Subject: I’m sorry.
We’ve clearly gotten off on the wrong foot and it’s quite apparent I’ve offended you. My apologies.
Well, at least he wasn’t completely oblivious to his behavior, although Olivia supposed her telling him to fuck off was probably clue enough that he was an offensive human being.
To: William Macauley
From: Olivia Donnelly
Date: September 1, 2014
Subject: A habit of yours?
Do you make it a habit to offend every new woman you speak with or is that behavior specially reserved just for me?
Olivia waited several minutes for a response but it never came. After waiting another 15 minutes beyond that, she accepted that he wasn’t going to write back. Behaving just like a teenager waiting for a note to be passed from her crush across the classroom, Olivia thought to herself how pathetic she’d become in just a few short hours.
After watching her mom stand by her father through all the years of his infidelity, Olivia had told herself early on that she’d never let a man have the upper hand when it came to her emotions. She had vowed to be the one that was cold, calculating, unfeeling – just like William Macauley seemed to be.
Lest she behave even more wretchedly by pining for a message that wasn’t to come, Olivia turned off her computer and the bedside lamp before glancing one last time at the clock – 11:47 p.m. At least she’d get to bed somewhat early tonight.
Unfortunately, Olivia didn’t fall asleep immediately. That would have been an easy escape from the whole crazy night. Instead she lay in bed going over her conversations – both verbal and written – with William, thinking about what she should have said, what he could have meant, and what she would say if given the chance in the future. Just as she was near to falling into what was sure to be an uneasy sleep, her phone rang.
Olivia considered letting the call go to voicemail figuring it was Heather returning her earlier call, but for a reason she would never understand, by the third ring she absolutely sensed that it was William. She picked up the phone and put it to her ear, willing him to be the one to speak first. She desperately wanted him to be the one to break the charged silence that enveloped them.
“Olivia,” he whispered, and then he too went silent, that one word all he was going to give her.
Except it wasn’t all.
The way he had said her name did things to Olivia that she couldn’t adequately explain. To her ears, he had said it the way a man says a woman’s name as he’s about to make love to her for the first time, full of longing and desire.
It felt like several minutes had passed since he had spoken her name, but in reality it had been less than 15 seconds. Olivia wasn’t worried about him hanging up the phone because she knew he could hear her breathing in response to his voice. Given how furiously she felt her heart beating, she thought he could probably hear it too as it was so terrifyingly loud. She certainly heard the thump, thump, thump of it echoing in her own ears.
“William,” she eventually responded, trying to keep her voice cold and emotionless, hoping that her desire for him wasn’t evident in that one single word. She wouldn’t say more, not yet.
Olivia wanted to make him tell her why he was calling. She wouldn’t ask. She wouldn’t show how much she actually cared what he thought of her; unfortunately her hitched breathing gave her away. If he hadn’t known it before, William certainly knew that his voice – his words – had power over her.
“I had to call you. I don’t know why, I just felt compelled to. I didn’t want to continue conversing with you in one to two sentence fragments over email. While convenient, I find it so impersonal,” he said.
Impersonal? So he was looking for some sort of personal connection with her? No, she wouldn’t read too much into his words.
When he realized that she wasn’t going to say anything back, he went on. “I know you don’t care one way or the other, but you are absolutely intriguing to me. A conundrum really. You see, for as much research as you’ve obviously done on me, I’ve probably done more on you. After all, you’re rather easy to find online.”
Olivia hadn’t seen that one coming.
Go on, she wanted to say, curious to know exactly what he found so intriguing about her, but her voice wouldn’t work.
When she failed to speak for several more seconds, he finally broke the silence, the tone of his voice going from interested to terse and ... rejected?
“I can see you’re not going to speak to me. Perhaps I’m wasting my time. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
Before he could hang up and Olivia would lose the moment with him forever, she took a deep breath and found both her voice and her courage.
“I’m sorry, I’m just a bit shocked that you’ve called is all. I’m trying to figure out what you’re about,” she told him as matter-of-factly as she could. “We’ve hardly been what I would call cordial to one another since we spoke earlier tonight so I’m wondering why you want a more … personal … mode of communication. Hell, I’m wondering why you want any more communication, period. You made it pretty clear that you aren’t interested in what I have to say, so I’m not sure what else there is to say.”
Olivia could hear the hurt in her voice, and in addition to feeling embarrassed over her uncanny physical reaction to him, she also felt ashamed. Unfortunately, he seemed to pick up on both emotions.
“My apologies if I have … hurt … you. It was ridiculous of me to have been so rude. Perh
aps if you would allow me to explain myself, you might begin to understand why my initial reaction to you was so discourteous,” he said.
Okay, Olivia thought, start explaining.
She couldn’t have prepared herself for what he said next.
“I know it’s late, but can I see you? I’d like to speak to you in person.”
Oh shit. Oh shit.
Oh ... SHIT.
“It is late,” she replied, leaving the statement hanging between them for him to interpret.
She didn’t want him to think that she wasn’t interested in meeting him, but at the same time she also didn’t want him thinking he could call her up at midnight and that she’d be at his beck and call. While Olivia had had her fair share of romantic entanglements throughout the years, she’d never been someone’s booty call.
But damn if her curiosity wasn’t getting the best of her. Olivia internally calculated what it would take to make herself look presentable before meeting him – wherever he was. She figured that she didn’t have time to redo her make-up but she could easily throw her sweater and jeans back on, pull her hair up into a bun, and be in a cab on her way in just under 15 minutes.
And then, as if she couldn’t be any more shocked than she already was, his next words stopped her in her tracks.
“I’m in your hotel lobby, if that changes anything.”
It changed a lot of things.
Warning sirens were going off in Olivia’s head, telling her there was nothing normal about a man she had never met – much less told where she was staying – seeking her out in the middle of the night, showing up at her hotel unannounced. While one side of her brain was screaming at her not to go downstairs, the other side was saying that as long as they stayed in the hotel she would be safe.