Kellan gritted his teeth, then shook his head. “What kind of game is this?” he asked. “And why the hell have you decided to play it with me?”
“I-I don’t know what you mean,” Gelsey said, avoiding his gaze. She knew exactly what he meant, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to admit that.
“I don’t know who the hell you are,” he said, pacing back and forth at the end of the bed. “We share the most intimate things and yet, I don’t know anything about you.”
“What’s wrong with that? What difference does it make? The past is in the past. Why are you so determined to dredge it all up?”
God, he was so beautiful when he was angry. Kellan was always so controlled, so sure of himself. She wanted him to crawl back into bed and make love to her, to turn all that anger he felt into passion.
“And why are you so determined to hide it? You’re playing a dangerous game here, Gelsey.”
“I’m not afraid,” she retorted.
Kellan drew a long, deep breath, then shrugged. “Well, maybe I am. How the hell am I supposed to figure this all out if I don’t have any of the facts?”
“What do you need to figure out?” she asked. “Can’t you just be happy living in the moment?”
“No,” Kellan said. “That’s not who I am. I’m a thinker and a planner and an organizer. I don’t like… ambiguity.”
“Not everything is worth knowing.”
“You think this is some game? Well, I don’t want to play anymore. It’s over. The clock’s run out. And I think it’s time you told me.”
Gelsey felt her anger rise. She didn’t owe him any explanations. She shouldn’t be forced to admit all the mistakes she’d made in her life, especially not to a man she’d only known for a week. “What do you want me to say? I’m married. I’m engaged. I’ve slept with hundreds, no, thousands of men. I’ve danced naked for strangers… and money. I’ve tried every illicit drug known to mankind. And I’m really a man trapped in a woman’s body.”
“Is any of that true?” Kellan asked.
“No. Aren’t you glad it isn’t? The truth is much less interesting. And if you really cared about me, it wouldn’t matter.”
He circled the bed and sat down beside her. “You’re afraid,” he said. “You’re afraid that I’ll find something about you that I don’t like.”
“No,” Gelsey said. “I just don’t care about who you were before we met. That part of your life didn’t involve me. Our lives began that morning on the beach. We’re like…goldfish.”
“Goldfish?”
“They live completely in the moment. If you watch a fish in a bowl, by the time he gets across the bowl, he’s forgotten where he was. It doesn’t matter to him.”
“That’s bollocks,” Kellan muttered. “I don’t live like a feckin’ fish. I’m willing to take the good with the bad. If we don’t start to be honest with each other, then we don’t have any chance to make this work.”
“You want to make this work? What does that mean? It already works. If you try any harder, you might wreck it.”
“Maybe so. But this is it, Gelsey. This is the deal breaker. I need some answers.”
She considered his demand for a long moment, then nodded. “Have you ever played the game Twenty Questions? It’s a game I used to play with my nanny.”
“You had a nanny?” Kellan asked.
“Yes. Her name was Marie and she was French. She’s the one who taught me how to speak French. My mother thought it was important. That’s one question. And I’m only giving you five. So you have four left.”
“What’s your name?” Kellan asked.
“I’m Gelsey Evangeline Woodson. I’m named after my mother’s favorite ballet dancer and my father’s favorite poem.”
“Where are your parents?”
“I have no idea,” Gelsey said. “My mother is probably in New York. And the last time I heard, my father was in Hong Kong. We don’t really communicate. They have their lives and I have mine.” She sent him a sideways glance. “See. Some of the answers aren’t very pretty. My parents divorced when I was eight and sent me off to boarding school. I used to come to Ireland every summer to stay with my grandmother at Winterhill, her house.”
“Boarding school?”
“Yes. And that’s four. In Switzerland. It’s as awful as it sounds. I was lonely and homesick and I had trouble making friends. Last question.”
Kellan considered his options silently. “I think I’ll save my last question,” he said.
“You can’t. It’s against the rules. You have to ask me now or lose the question.”
“This game has rules?” Kellan chuckled. “Doesn’t that go against the whole ‘living for the moment’ thing? Why not seven questions? Or eleven? Who cares how many questions were asked in the past? I say that we should play with forty-six questions. Just to live in the moment.”
“Ask your last question,” she said, bristling at the sarcasm in his voice. “Or don’t.” Gelsey crawled out of bed and picked up her clothes from the floor. She tugged on her shirt without putting on a bra, then pulled on her jeans. “I think I’m going to go.”
“Go where?”
“Home,” she said. “And that’s your last question.” She brushed past him. She found her boots at the door and slipped her bare feet inside, then put on her jacket. But by the time she opened the door, Kellan was beside her, pushing it shut again.
“Don’t go,” he murmured.
“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to fight with you.” This was all so familiar, she mused. It had happened with every man she’d ever known. Accusations, recriminations. Why did every man have to dwell in the past?
“I’m sorry. It’s just difficult for me.”
“Why? It’s so easy. We know how we feel, right now, in the moment. And in a few minutes, it will all be forgotten.”
“Is that the way it works? You’ll forget that I’ve been a bloody caffler?”
“I don’t even know what that is,” Gelsey said.
“An arse of the highest order. An eejit. A proper prick.”
She smiled. “Yes, I believe the description suits you quite well.”
He slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her, lingering over her mouth until she parted her lips. The kiss was perfectly executed to make her forget the argument they’d just had and by the end of it, Gelsey was convinced.
“Stay with me,” he murmured. “I don’t want you to go.”
“If I stay, no more questions.”
“No more questions.”
“All right. I’ll stay.”
Kellan picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, then carried her into the bedroom. “Gelsey Evangeline Woodson,” he murmured, kissing her neck. “I like that.”
“My friends used to call me Gigi,” she said. “But I hate that name now.”
“I like Gels,” he said. “Will that do?”
6
KELLAN STRODE INTO the Hound, searching the dimly lit interior as he walked to the bar. Overnight, the place had been decorated for the holidays with twinkling garlands draped from every spot possible and a Christmas tree sitting in the corner.
But there was something a bit nicer about it all, he mused as he took it all in, he could see Jordan and Nan’s influence on the family business already. Kellan recognized his brother’s Christmas CD playing over the sound system.
