Page 6 of A Celtic Memory
So she squared her shoulders, strode into the foyer, and flung open the door, ready to confront whatever fate had in store for her next.
Chapter Two
CIAN TOOK A momentto adjust to his surroundings when he arrived in modern-day New Hampshire. He swore he had felt Madison right next to him, but he stood alone.
“Are ye well?” his Fae friend, Aisling asked.
“Ta.” He nodded thanks to the pixie-like face wavering in the sunlit trees above. “I will see ye again soon, my friend.”
With that, she was gone, ready to help him return when he summoned her.
It was hard to believe he had finally arrived. That the woman he’d heard calling to him across time was only mere steps away. He took a moment to feel out his surroundings for the danger he had felt drawing closer to her but detected nothing.
While tempted to take his time to eliminate any potential threat, he sensed Madison’s presence far too strongly. Needed to finally lay eyes on her. Be close to her. So he headed for the front door and knocked. Then knocked again when he felt her hesitation. Her fear and curiosity.
Then her determination when she strode for the door.
A determination made clear when she flung open the door and simply stared at him.
He had thought long and hard about how this moment might go. What he would say. Do. But it went nothing like he thought it would. Not when he saw her face at last and realized that the ethereal glimpses of her he’d caught in Ireland paled in comparison to her actual beauty.
Her thick auburn locks were highlighted with lighter shades of red, and her skin was a luminescent, flawless ivory. So flawless that the smattering of light freckles dusting her perfectly formed cheekbones was unmistakable. Tall for a lass, her features were delicate and feminine, and her lips heart-shaped and lush. He tried to take in the rest of her, but her wide almond-shaped, thickly lashed emerald eyes ensnared him.
So much so that he led with a rather foolish declaration.
“You’re Irish.”
“I'm American.” Though flustered, she held her ground. “I know you, don’t I?”
“Mayhap.”
“From where?”
“Ireland.”
“I’ve never been to Ireland.”
