Bride Of The Emerald Isle. Trish Wylie

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СКАЧАТЬ his head slightly. ‘It’s nice to meet you. I’m Garrett Kincaid.’

      ‘Kincaid?’

      Again in that deeply hypnotic tone. ‘Yes, Kincaid.’

      Keelin let go of his hand as if he’d burned her, rubbing her palm up and down against her thigh as she stared up at him.

      Garrett in turn held his now-free hand out to the side, beckoning her through the gateway. ‘My father will be in the kitchen.’

      Keelin walked through the gateway on automatic pilot. His father. His father, whom she had come all this way to find. It held a certain irony that she would feel something in the wrong place at the wrong time, would meet the first man in a long time whom she found compelling, too attractive for his own good, who had made the most perfect of perfect entrances into her already complicated life. And then discover that, rather than being a mass murderer, this gorgeously compelling male could, in all likelihood, already be out of bounds…as a potential family member…

      Or, Lord help her, he could even be a brother!

      CHAPTER TWO

      AS THE dogs scampered across the tiled floor to their baskets Garrett watched the sylph-like blonde hovering in the doorway, a look of sheer terror on her face.

      She was quite the mystery woman, wasn’t she?

      And, to be honest, he’d thought that before he had even found out where she was going. It wasn’t too often he bumped into a beautiful woman in the middle of nowhere first thing in the morning…

      Especially not one he’d felt drawn to the way he had to her. There was just, something, about her. What was it?

      ‘You checked the herd?’ His father’s voice sounded out from in front of the huge range that dominated the kitchen, his back to the door. ‘All still in one piece?’

      ‘Yes, all present and accounted for.’ He jerked his head. ‘Come on in, Keelin.’

      She took a deep breath and walked into the room, her eyes immediately seeking out its only other occupant.

      Who in turn turned to face her with curious eyes. ‘Where on earth did you find this lovely creature? I’ve been sending you out to check stock for decades and you never came home with one of these.’

      ‘She’s not here to see me. She’s here to see you.’

      A mischievous light entered Dermot’s eyes as he winked at Keelin before walking over and slapping Garrett on the back. ‘Son, really, you shouldn’t have. It’s not my birthday ’til next month.’

      But the attempt at humour washed right over Keelin, who seemed to be growing paler by the second. It gave her an almost ethereal look, with her already pale skin and huge, luminescent blue eyes. And in the second it took for Dermot to reach out a hand in greeting she seemed to shrink a little, suddenly appearing almost glasslike, as if his touch might shatter her.

      And Garrett really wanted to know why she was so full of contradictions—sassy city girl one minute, shy and almost innocently childlike the next. Who was the real Keelin O’Donnell?

      He cleared his throat. ‘Paddy McIlroy sent her up here from the hotel in Knightstown.’

      ‘On foot?’ Dermot looked over at his son with a smile as Keelin finally shook his hand. ‘Good stretch of the legs, eh?’

      Keelin seemed to recover as she took back her hand. ‘I don’t think he used the word “good” or “fair”. If he had I might have known to use my car.’

      ‘He has a very individual sense of humour, does Paddy.’

      ‘Yes, I got that.’

      ‘So what brings you up to visit us, then? Not that the sight of a lovely girl doesn’t brighten any day of the week out here!’

      Garrett couldn’t hold back a smile of amusement, leaning his head closer to Keelin’s as he peeled off his long coat. ‘Told you he’d like you.’

      Colour returned to Keelin’s face as another flush worked its way onto her cheeks. And, despite his best intentions, Garrett smiled all the more. He liked the fact that she blushed so easily. A rare thing in the modern age. Especially from a woman who lived in the big city.

      Another contradiction. City women were way too self-assured to blush, weren’t they? They were in Garrett’s experience. He’d found that kind of confidence sexy once, that was true.

      But once had been enough.

      ‘And knowing that, you’d think he’d have had the sense to keep you to himself, wouldn’t you?’ Dermot waved a hand in Garrett’s direction. ‘Get the girl a cup of tea, then. The pot’s stewing on top of the stove.’

      Garrett merely lifted an eyebrow in question as she looked his way. And she smiled a very small smile in response. So he nodded. ‘Milk, no sugar, I suppose?’

      City girl’s second preference to some foreign froth of a coffee in his experience…

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘Sit down, sit down.’ Dermot pulled out a chair for her at the long, well-worn kitchen table. ‘Keelin, is it? What a lovely name. Are you here for a bit of a holiday? Do you know the island at all? It’s a lovely place, isn’t it?’

      ‘She might be able to answer if you paused for breath.’ Garrett threw the words over his shoulder as he reached for a mug and poured steaming tea into it. ‘Let her get a word in.’

      Not that he doubted her ability to do that if she chose. But something had changed when she’d walked through the door. And Garrett was keen to have his father let her get to it.

      The curiosity was killing him.

      ‘I’m not here on holiday.’

      As Garrett turned to place the mug in front of her she was lifting the long strap of her bag from across her shoulders, shrugging her head below it before she searched through its contents. ‘I came here to bring you something I think belongs to you.’

      ‘To me?’ Dermot’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Are you sure about that?’

      ‘Yes.’ Her eyes flickered briefly to his face, then up to Garrett’s as he set down the mug. ‘Thank you.’

      Garrett smiled encouragingly. ‘You already said thank you. It’s only a cup of tea, Keelin O’Donnell, it’s not that big a deal.’

      There was a sudden silence. Broken by. ‘O’Donnell?’

      Garrett’s gaze narrowed as his father repeated her surname in the same surprised tone Keelin had when he’d said his name was Kincaid at the gate. What the hell was going on?

      Keelin faltered, her hand rising from the bag with a bundle of faded blue letters that she laid on the table in front of her, both hands then smoothing over them as she studied his father’s face.

      ‘Yes.’

      The СКАЧАТЬ