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СКАЧАТЬ they watched over me. Closely. Despite not wanting to go home to them, I did want to go home. To my home. I love Annapolis, love everything about it.”

      His shoulders rounded a bit as he thought of Kinloch, and how much he loved it. And there he was, asking her to give up a place that was equally important to her. “Will you go back?” he asked. “I mean, when we’ve sorted things out, and you’ve had some time away after…you know.”

      “I honestly don’t know. I can’t imagine not going back, so at some point, I’m sure I will. I just—I have no idea how all that will play out. Not yet.”

      She was talking, and he heard every word, but his thoughts, not to mention a good part of the rest of him, were all caught up in the touch of her soft fingertips, stroking the sides of his not-so-soft hands. He wondered if she realized her hand was still touching his.

      He certainly hadn’t forgotten.

      His gaze was drawn to her slender fingers, tipped with perfectly shaped nails. His gaze fixed on the impression her engagement ring had made on her ring finger, and had him wondering how long she’d worn it. Her fiancé hadn’t looked like a bad sort. Quite the opposite, actually. Sort of like an affectionate puppy, eager to do the bidding of whoever would feed it.

      If anything, she’d seemed truly heartbroken to leave him behind. So it wasn’t the fiancé she didn’t love, in some fashion, anyway, but perhaps what the marriage itself represented. She’d alluded to being in much the same situation he was in—which, quite frankly, made it all the more stunning she’d agreed to his offer. Of course, her forced arrangement likely came with all sorts of attendant commitments that made the entire proposition untenable—even if there was honest affection, or true love between them. Whereas his arrangement with her would be cut and dried, business only. They didn’t even have to like each other.

      “I’ve faith ye’ll figure it all out,” he told her. “Time has a way of providing perspective.”

      She nodded in agreement, as a weary sigh escaped her lips. She’d either worn off, or more likely chewed off, most of her lipstick. While the red had been an alluring slash when playing peekaboo behind layers of netting, he thought she’d be even more beautiful without any of that artifice. In fact, it was tempting to take his kerchief and blot off the rest, and the smudge of mascara beneath those beautiful blue eyes as well.

      Causing much greater disappointment than was proportionate to their short acquaintance, she slid her hand from his and scooted a little more toward her end of the seat. “I appreciate your confidence in me. It’s nice to hear it from someone.”

      “Even if that someone is a complete stranger,” he said, dryly.

      “I wouldn’t say a complete stranger. Not at this point.”

      “Aye. It was, admittedly, one of the more interesting ways I’ve ever made someone’s acquaintance.”

      She smiled a little at that. “Are you referring to finding the bride swearing a blue streak in the garden? Or carrying her out of the church where she was to be married, less than an hour after meeting her?”

      “I would have to say the tale should be recounted in its entirety, to do it full justice.” He grinned, then, and a little more of the anxiety and tension ebbed away. Only to be replaced with an entirely different kind, when she grinned back.

      “So,” she asked, “do you have a pub back on your island, where the locals down pints of Guinness while regaling each other with such tales or is that just a cliche?”

      “No’ a cliche, I’m afraid. Have no worries, I wouldnae sully your good name by retelling the tale and castin’ you in a bad light in any way.”

      “How many people are on your island?”

      “Three hundred and sixty-seven. Sixty-six at the moment,” he said, gesturing to himself.

      Her smile turned wry. “Then you won’t have to tell the tale. It will get around all on its own. Or perhaps you should tell the tale yourself. At least give it a chance to be properly told once.” She shook her head. “Three hundred and sixty-seven. We have over thirty thousand, just in my hometown of Annapolis.”

      “Aye, a thriving metropolis we are no’. It’s certainly a different way of life, but it’s peaceful and the men and women there have the best hearts you will ever encounter. You’ll have time to regroup, and think.”

      “You are the leader of their clan, hauling me back from America as your bride and wife. Do you really think they won’t be just a wee bit curious about me?” She said it good-naturedly, as if it were still rather surreal to her.

      He supposed it had to be, at this point. “Aye, they’ll be that and more. But they’ll be welcomin’ ye and lookin’ to make ye as comfortable as can be.”

      “You make it sound like a sort of Brigadoon.”

      “Don’t worry, Katie. I’ve a wee bit of pull around the place. I’ll make sure yer comforts are seen to. I promise ye that.”

      She shook her head. “I appreciate that, I truly do. But I think the key for me now is to handle things on my own. I’ve allowed others to steer the course for far too long. Forever, actually. I need to captain my own ship.” She laughed a little at that, and the sound was a mixture of both amusement and sadness. “If anyone should know how to do that, a McAuley should, right?”

      Roan had done a little digging on Katie before Graham caught the ferry off the island. Her family and their business had always been based in the historic town of Annapolis, and centered around ship design and building. Originally, sailing vessels and ships of commerce. These days their inventory leant itself more toward sleek, sailing boats and very large yachts. The privately owned company was partnered with another equally old Maryland family, the Sheffields, which Graham now knew was Katie’s fiancé’s family. Ex-fiancé.

      That was all Roan had a chance to learn before Graham left Kinloch. It was an imposing enough dossier, so he’d purposely kept himself from reading anything else Roan had sent during his transatlantic journey. He’d wanted to meet Katie first, then tackle the learning curve. He wished he’d learned as much as possible, earlier.

      He felt the weight of his cell phone, currently in the sporran strapped across his chest, but didn’t dig it out to look through those messages. Beating all the odds, he’d succeeded in his mission. Thus far, anyway. Katie was with him, and they were heading home. That was a better start than he’d realistically allowed himself to hope for. Getting back to Kinloch was going to take time, so there would be plenty of opportunity to learn more from Katie directly.

      “Your family builds boats, is that right? Yachts and the like?”

      She looked surprised for a moment, then her expression turned downright wary. “Right. With all the rest…I forgot. I, of all people, should know better.” She shook her head, and her slight laugh was self-deprecating at best. “Wow, I’m just making one good decision after another.” She looked to him. “After all, you were hunting me when you arrived, uninvited, to my wedding. Just how much do you know about me? My family? How did you find me? And how, exactly, do you know I’m related to the McAuley’s of Kinloch? I can’t believe I’m just now asking you this.”

      Graham immediately lifted his hand in a sign of peace. “Please, ye’ve nothing to worry about on that score. I’m no’ a stalker. It wasn’t you specifically we СКАЧАТЬ