Page 60 of Tempting Irish

I can feel her inner turmoil, the tainted dark part of her that’s searching for freedom, even if she doesn’t realize it. I recognize it, because it’s the same deep need that rages inside ofme.

“Nothing. Just drive,” she mutters, throwing up all kinds ofwalls.

“Not until ye tell me what yewant.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she mumbles, her bottom lip trembling on thewords.

“Bree-”

“I said it doesn’t matter.” Anger infuses her words now. Her chin juts towards me, blue eyes warring against the tears that threaten tofall.

“All right.” I start the ignition and pull back onto theroad.

I don’t push her. We’ll have time to talk later. I’ve made sure ofit.

“You just missed the turn,” she says a few minuteslater.

“Ididn’t.”

She crosses her arms. “It said Dublin, thatway.”

“We’re not going toDublin.”

“What?” Her brows draw down. “Where are wegoing?”

“Home. I’m taking yehome.”

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