Sticks and Stone by Jennifer Dunne Read Free Book Online Page B

crystal still hung from the branches, and he’d swear the tree
was sulking. That was the only explanation for the pronounced droop of the branches.
    Skirting widely around the tree, in case the dryad
managed to break free of the charm binding her and lunged for him, he searched
the surrounding forest. His jacket was tossed over the lowest branch of a
neighboring sycamore.
    He pulled it from the tree, then dug in the inside
pocket. After pulling out a business card and a pen, he scribbled his cell
phone number on the back, and handed the card to Eileen.
    For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t take it, but then
she reached forward and plucked it from his hand.
    “I’m not promising I’ll call.”
    He smiled. “You’ll call.”
    “Arrogant American!”
    She turned and stalked away. Dermot watched her go, her
long, swinging strides reminding him of her strong legs, locked around him.
When the forest had swallowed her, he sighed and took out his cell phone. He
punched in the number of his driver.
    “Meet me at the eastern entrance to the woods in half an
hour,” he ordered.
    “Your luggage has already been loaded in the limousine.
Would you like to leave directly for the airport?”
    “Unload it. I’ll need to go back to the manor and shower
before I can be seen anywhere.”
    He snapped the phone closed before his driver could ask
any more questions. Shrugging into his coat, he stared for a moment at the last
place he’d seen Eileen. Then he sighed, and opened his phone again. He’d never
expected to use the GPS feature. He’d never expected a leprechaun to grant him
his heart’s deepest desire, either. He needed to learn to broaden his
expectations.
    Whistling softly, Dermot headed for his rendezvous.

Chapter
Four
     
    “Arrogant American,” Eileen muttered under her breath as
she stalked back to her cottage. He expected her to call him, did he? And drive
up to Dublin for a quickie at his convenience?
    Her anger softened, her steps slowing and her lips
curving at the memory of their lovemaking. No, it would never be a quickie with
him. That she could be sure of.
    “Dermot.” She whispered his
name, enjoying the feel of it in her mouth. Almost as much as
she’d enjoyed the feel of him in her mouth.
    A flush of heat swept over her, her breasts tingling and
moisture gathering between her thighs. By the circle, the man was a fantastic
lover.
    She smiled, fingering the card he’d insisted she take.
Maybe she’d call him after all.
    She glanced at the card, instantly recognizing the logo
of a globe chiseled from granite. Stone International
Industries, makers of applesauce, zippers, and everything in between. Stone.
    She sank to her knees in the leaf-strewn path. Now she
knew why his face had looked so familiar. It had been staring at her from the
magazine racks on her last trip to the market.
    Dermot Stone, multimillionaire son and heir presumptive
to Randolph Stone’s multi-billion dollar empire, had been declared the most
eligible bachelor of the year. A collage of photos had shown him on the arms of
models, actresses, and beautiful women from the wealthy elite.
    Eileen knew she was pretty enough not to scare the
livestock, but certainly not in the same league as the women he normally dated.
What could he possibly find of interest in her? Her mind and
spirit? He hadn’t had a chance to discover much of either. They’d barely
spoken to each other.
    Then she knew. He’d never told any of those other women
how he liked his sex. He wouldn’t have told her, if he hadn’t been desperate
for release from the dryad’s spell. Now she was the only woman he knew who
could give him what he wanted. She could be a toothless hag with the
interpersonal skills of a filth-covered hermit, and he wouldn’t care, as long
as she slapped his ass while his cock was filling her.
    She crumpled his card in her fist. She wouldn’t be
calling him. Ever.
    * * * * *
    Dermot frowned at the numbers scrolling by on his
screen. It was