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Bride Of The Emerald Isle. Trish WylieЧитать онлайн книгу.

Bride Of The Emerald Isle - Trish Wylie


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if you’ll give him a chance. Not all us island folk are potential mass murderers…’

      She found it difficult to breathe, her chest suddenly tight. So that it took a few moments before she could find a single question to ask from the long list she’d been forming on her way to the island. ‘What’s he like?’

      Garrett’s eyes took on a far-off expression before he looked away from her face. ‘Like any other man his age. Has lived and learned some, so sometimes has entirely too much common sense, which can be annoying if you’re convinced you’re in the right when he knows you’re not. And he’s formed some strong opinions along the way, so can be a real stubborn-headed goat when he wants to be.’ He grinned briefly at her, dimples flashing.

      ‘But he still has an appreciation for a good-looking girl, so you’ll be just fine.’

      Keelin felt her cheeks warm again.

      And Garrett caught sight of it before he laughed. ‘Yeah, he’ll like you all right, even if he is old enough to be your father.’

      She was glad he turned his face away as he threw out the latter.

      ‘That’s the house over there.’

      The hand that had been subconsciously straightening the material over the elbow he had held onto froze as her gaze followed his pointing finger to the large, old stone farmhouse ahead of them.

      Garrett stopped a few steps in front of her and turned, a quizzical expression on his face when she remained still. ‘What’s wrong?’

      Keelin frowned. She had been so momentarily transfixed by the sight of her destination that she had forgotten he was there. And she wasn’t about to explain to him why it was suddenly so difficult to take the final steps to get there. How could he possibly understand that, to her, it had taken a lifetime to reach this place?

      So she sought a safer answer. ‘And you couldn’t have just told me it was round the next bend?’

      He smiled laconically. ‘And ruin all the fun?’

      Hitching her chin up a very visible inch, Keelin walked past him with determined steps in flowered wellingtons. ‘You really need to get off this island more.’

      It didn’t occur to her addled mind that he was still following along with her until his dogs stopped at the small gateway, wagging their tails as they waited for it to be opened. Keelin stopped, looked down at them, and then up at Garrett’s face as he reached for the latch.

      ‘You don’t need to see me to the door. I can take it from here.’

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

      ‘I didn’t think you meant all the way into the house.’

      With his hand holding the gate open, dogs already having galloped ahead, Garrett leaned his head a little closer, and smiled another heart-stopping smile. ‘I have to go in. I live here.’

      Keelin’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. ‘You live here?’

      Garrett nodded very slowly. ‘Yes, I live here, for the moment anyway. I’m building a house nearby, but this has been home for a long time. I did try introducing myself but you were having none of it. And incidentally—’a single eyebrow quirked at her ‘—I didn’t catch your name….’

      Still reeling with the new information, Keelin had to struggle to keep up. ‘Maybe because I didn’t give it. And you didn’t ask.’

      ‘Well—’he leaned back and took a breath ‘—that we can fix.’

      She watched as he reached a large hand out towards her, but hesitated accepting it, in making the simple skin-to-skin contact involved with setting her smaller hand into his.

      And he quirked a single eyebrow again in question.

      So, with a deep breath, and a brief run of the end of her tongue over her dry lips, she placed her hand in his. And felt the immediate sliver of warmth run through her fingers and up her arm. ‘I’m Keelin O’Donnell.’

      ‘Hello, Keelin O’Donnell.’ Still holding her hand in his, he inclined 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


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