Page 24 of Wild Irish

I exhale, slow and steady. I know she’s right, but there’s no chance in hell I’m leaving her here with Colin lurking in the shadows. She comes home with me.

Hazel eyes watch me with wary arousal. God, that look nearly undoes me.

“Fine. One hour. Then we leave.”

Her face brightens. Her lips, still swollen from my kiss, curve up in a smile. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t expect me to enjoy myself.”

She laughs. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“And stay away from Colin.”

She places her palm on my chest and goes up onto her toes, so that her lips are only a breath from mine. “As long as you promise to kiss me again later.”

When she starts to move away, I grab her around the waist and whisper roughly in her ear, “I promise I’ll be doing a lot more than kissing ye tonight, sweetheart.”

Chapter 9

Delaney

Cillian’shard gaze hasn’t left me, and even from across the bar, I can see the promise in his eyes.

A shiver of anticipation races down my spine. Am I really going to sleep with him? I’ve never done anything so wanton in my life. But God, I want to.

“I love Ireland.” My words are slurred, but I don’t care. For the first time in months, I’m actually enjoying myself. Plus, if I’m really going to do the things I’m thinking of doing, I’m going to need a couple more drinks to release the nerves knotting in my stomach.

“How long are ye staying?” Emer asks, clinking her shot glass against mine.

I shrug, because I really have no idea.

All I can think about is the kiss.

Cillian leans against the bar, watching me. Aiden is with him, and whatever he’s saying to him, has Cillian scowling.

“How long have you known him?” I ask.

Emer follows my gaze. “Cillian? All my life. That’s my brother there with him. Shane.” She nods at the dark-haired man that’s with Cillian and Aiden. Emer’s tone shifts, growing more heavy. “We all grew up together. But they’ve had–”

The band starts playing a new tune, some sort of Irish folksong, and the room erupts in drunken voices.

An older man wraps a thick arm around Emer’s waist and starts singing to her in a thick Irish brogue. She laughs and joins him.

I grin, wishing I knew the lyrics. There’s a joy here that’s infectious. I know little about Irish history, but I know they’ve had their fair share of suffering, both as a country and as a people. But it’s clear it never broke their spirit.

When I glance over at Cillian, he’s in a heated conversation with his two friends. For the first time all night, his gaze isn’t on me.

I slide off my stool, but the second my feet hit the floor the room starts to spin, and beads of sweat break out above my upper lip. It’s hot in here, and I’m starting to regret that last shot of whiskey.

“I’ll be right back,” I yell over the music to Emer. “I need to get some fresh air.”

She gives me a small nod, and continues to belt out the old Irish folksong.

She sighed and she swore that she never would deceive me. But the devil take the women for they never can be easy. With your whack fol the diddle day. Whack fol the diddle, oh whack fol the diddle. Oh, there's whiskey in the jar.

I make my way to the front of the pub, trying my best to walk in a straight line. My stomach rolls, and I barely make it outside before I empty its contents into one of the bushes.

I groan and place my forehead on the cool stone of the building.

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