Bride Of The Emerald Isle. Trish Wylie

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      Smiling softly in response, Keelin let her eyes stray upwards to meet his. Rich, toffee colored eyes, framed with thick dark lashes. And she had to make herself pat the smiling dog’s damp head to keep herself from sighing loudly in contentment. She’d always been easily swayed by great eyes. And this man had sensational eyes. But being a connoisseur had always led her into heartache before.

      And a man like this one didn’t live in a tiny place like this alone, did he?

      ‘What brings someone like you to Inishmore House?’

      That was probably as close to ‘What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?’ that Keelin had heard in a while.

      Drop-dead gorgeous men who seemed to tug at every sense she possessed were a rare occurrence, so she didn’t really know how she was supposed to deal with that. But corny one-liner chat-up lines she could deal with.

      After all, she hadn’t come all this way to look for a new love interest, had she? No matter how sensational he was to look at. It would be the kind of complication she really didn’t need at this point in her life.

      Nope, she had bigger things to deal with. She really couldn’t allow herself to get so easily distracted.

      So she drew on her wealth of social experience and changed her tone, became a little less warm, more businesslike. Making it clear she had somewhere to be, something important to do. ‘I’m looking for someone, is it nearby?’

      ‘A short stretch of the legs from here.’

      Keelin stared up at him, unamused. ‘That’s very funny.’

      There was a sudden deep chuckle of laughter. And the deep, resonating rumble touched her somewhere deep inside. Briefly. As lasting as a single heartbeat, but she felt it echo through her like the ripple in a pool. And for a following brief moment, it frightened the life out of her.

      It was obviously something in the atmosphere. It had to be. The setting, the mist, the lengthy dramatic entrance he’d made across the field looking the way he did. She was being seduced by the moment. That was all.

      A form of escapism from her fear of the thing she was here to discover, possibly?

      She squared her shoulders. There wasn’t any time for fantasy here. She hadn’t travelled halfway across the country to fawn over the first good-looking man she met.

      ‘If you could just point me in the right direction? That would be very helpful, thank you.’

      ‘I can do better than that.’ He set his walking stick on the wall and, leaning on one hand, vaulted over it, landing neatly on his feet in front of her as she stepped back to make room for him. He then studied her up close and personal, his toffee eyes meltingly warm.

      ‘I’ll take you there.’

      Oh, no, Keelin didn’t think so. She read a lot of murder mysteries, thank you. And this man was dangerous enough as it was, looking and sounding the way he did…

      ‘No, it’s fine, thanks. I can find it if you point me the right way.’

      ‘I’m going that way.’

      Not with her, he wasn’t. ‘Really, I’m sure I can—’

      ‘Aren’t there any gentlemen left in the big cities these days?’

      Not so much. But that wasn’t the point. ‘You’re a complete stranger, I don’t know you.’

      ‘Well, that’s easily remedied.’ He reached out a large hand. ‘I’m Garrett—’

      ‘I don’t actually need to know who you are, either. I’m sorry. I just need to get where I’m going. I’m not here to get picked up by strangers in the middle of nowhere.’

      The hand dropped back to his side. ‘Bit full of yourself, aren’t you?’

      Keelin noted how his face remained impassive, but a twinkle of light stayed in his eyes, hinting at his amusement. Lord, but he was tempting. A nine point nine on the Romance Richter scale. But she refused point-blank to allow herself to be swayed by him. Her mother had come to this place once and been ‘swayed’ and look where that had got her!

      The thought refocused her, so, instead of allowing herself to be tempted by his obvious charms, she frowned, crossing her arms across her chest and tilting her chin as she answered. ‘Look, Mr—’

      ‘Garrett.’

      Her frown upgraded to a scowl at the sound of his steady deep tone and her own visceral response to it. Well, her attempt at a cool brush-off hadn’t worked, so she’d have to be direct.

      ‘Garrett. I’m sure there’s more than enough female fodder amongst the usual tourists here to keep you amused for a few months a year. But I’m not a tourist. Neither am I on the market as fodder. And I won’t be here long enough to be swayed by you turning on the rustic charm. So why don’t you just point a finger in the general vicinity of where I need to go and I’ll spread the word to the tourist board about how friendly the locals are.’ She added a sugary-sweet smile for good measure.

      ‘I thought you said you weren’t a tourist?’

      The calm tone to his voice made her falter briefly. ‘I’m not.’

      ‘Well, then, how are you going to tell the tourist board that you noticed I had rustic charm?’

      What was she now, a magnet for wise guys? Perfect. She sighed. ‘Forget it. I’ll find it myself.’

      Even that jolly local prankster Patrick wouldn’t have sent her in the wrong direction.

      Garrett fell into step beside her and when she glared sideways at him she almost tripped over one of the Springers.

      One large hand shot out and caught her elbow, steadying her, long fingers curling in and around as she leaned briefly into his strength.

      But she recovered quickly, snatching her elbow away, yanking her body back from his, and spinning round to look up at him while still glaring. ‘Would you just go away?’

      ‘I already told you I was going this way.’

      ‘Well, then, I’ll just wait right here ’til you’re gone before I start walking again.’

      His mouth quirked, teasing at his dimples as he silently watched her folding her arms again. Then he mirrored the movement, blinking down at her with an intense gaze. ‘Are you always this rude to someone who’s trying to be a gentleman?’

      ‘Only when I’m stranded in the middle of what could be, as far as I know, the killing fields of Co. Kerry. Bodies might never be found way out here.’

      ‘Do I look like a mass murderer to you?’

      ‘You wouldn’t have to be a mass murderer—there’s only one of me.’

      His eyes glowed. ‘Well, I’m one of the good guys, honest. And I know where I’m going. You could dander on up this road and walk СКАЧАТЬ