Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 130286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
showed her how much she truly meant to him. She had no riches to give, no companies to sacrifice or
grand gestures to measure how much he meant to her. All she ever had, the one coveted part of her
soul she protected above all else, was her heart. But it no longer felt like hers. She’d given it to him long ago and she knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he would protect it above all else. Always.
They stayed on the island for seven days and seven nights. By the time they left they were both a
warm shade of brown, toasted and freckled in a way she’d never been before. Her body and mind was
so relaxed, the anxiety she suffered on the flight there was absent as she boarded the plane.
“I’m sad to leave,” she said staring out at the runway just before takeoff.
“We can come back whenever you’d like.”
“Tomorrow?”
He laughed. “Tomorrow I suspect you’ll be in love with our next destination.”
Her mouth pulled into a smile. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Their second flight was much longer than the first. When they exited the plane, she had no idea
where they were. It was chilly and the air smelled of fresh rain and wood; gone was the briny trace of
ocean. When their new chauffeur greeted them, Evelyn couldn’t understand him. He spoke to her
several times before she realized he was speaking a very heavily accented English, interspersed with
expressions she’d never heard before.
“I can barely understand him,” she whispered to Lucian.
“You’ll get used to it. All Irishmen have thick accents, but your ears will adjust.”
“We’re in Ireland?”
“What better place to show you the breadth and scope of the mountains? Welcome to Carlingford.”
Ireland was stunning. There were so many novel shades of green. The locals were lovely. They
made new friends every night, laughing over pints at various local pubs. She laughed harder than she
ever remembered laughing in her life. Lucian was at ease and she adored this freer side of him.
There was never time to be hung over, because before she knew it she was drinking again. Beer did
funny things to her. It made her fearless.
One evening they were at a small pub, and the locals took turns singing. None were particularly
good, but it was all in fun, until Lucian insisted she give it a shot, that is.
“I am not going up there.”
“Have you ever sung in public?” he asked, brow arched in challenge.
“I’ve never sung, period.”
“Well, this entire trip is about trying new things. What are you waiting for?”
“I don’t know any songs.”
“That’s not true,” he argued.
She honestly didn’t know any songs well enough to sing. “Uh, yeah, it is.”
He shook his head and stood, a devilish gleam in his eye. He approached the three-man band and
whispered something to them. The men discussed and nodded in unison.
Lucian went to the microphone and said, “I’m here with a beautiful woman tonight, but she’s being
a little shy. You see, I promised her I’d help her experience everything she never tried before. It just so happens she’s never sung. She knows a song, but may need some help. Who’s up to helping her?”
The rowdy patrons cheered and lifted their mugs in the air. There was no hiding from their
enthusiastic calls. Slowly she rose, shooting him a glare that promised retribution, and went to the
stage. When Lucian tried to step down, she dug her fingernails into his arm. “Oh, no. You’re not
leaving me.”
The man on the guitar began to play. She panicked when she didn’t recognize the song. She knew
she wouldn’t!
Suddenly a man with a strange drum joined, and twinges of familiar rhythms flickered in her brain.
She recognized it . . . sort of.
“Shall we start you off, lass?” the guitar player shouted. She nodded and he grinned. When he sang,
it only took a moment for her to place the song. “Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip.”
Her mind prickled with recognition as her shoulders began to bob slowly to the cheery beat. It was
her favorite television show! She jumped in, belting out the line about the mighty sailing mate and the brave skipper from that three hour tour.
The audience echoed back the chorus. “A three-hour tour!”
The music picked up and so did her energy. It was a rush, singing like that. The next verse was sung
with much more verve. By the time they were calling out the characters, everyone was shouting along.
She grabbed the microphone and tugged on Lucian. “The millionaire . . .”
He tugged her back, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he stared into her. “And his wife . . .”
Heat pooled in her belly, full of excitement, at that look of promise in his gaze. A smile tugged at
her lips, and her voice fell away as she stood suspended in his arms, paralyzed by his potent stare. The patrons finished the drunken rendition on their own. Slowly, he leaned down to press his warm lips to