Wild Irish Roots (The Mystic Cove Series) by Tricia O'Malley Read Free Book Online
Authors: Tricia O'Malley
thing that I have ever seen."
"I know, right?" Margaret scoffed with him, though she kept an eye on the water of the cove. Sensing no change in the waves, she motioned for Sean to step from the circle.
"Let's eat, I'm famished," Margaret said, quickly changing the subject.
"Let's find the perfect spot," Sean said eagerly, and carrying the basket in one hand, he took her hand in his other. Margaret smiled up at him as they walked the length of the beach, listening as Sean exclaimed at the beauty of the empty beach and the stark magnificence of the surrounding cliff walls. Margaret tried to block out the power that she felt here and focused only on Sean's happiness.
Sean spread the plaid blanket on a high patch of sand that was sheltered by an outcropping of rocks. The setting sun had warmed the sand and the breeze was light. She laughed as Sean pulled out several mini tiki torches and placed them around the blanket, taking his time with lighting them in the breeze.
"Here, let me help," Margaret insisted and held her hands around the match as he lit each torch.
"I was worried that we would lose the light. Maybe later we can build a bonfire...though it doesn't look like there is a lot of driftwood down here to light a fire."
An image of a burning funeral pyre floating in the water of the cove flashed into Margaret's mind and she gasped and whipped her head around.
"What? Did you hear something?"
"No, um, sorry, a bug hit my face," Margaret laughed at him. Sean cupped her face in his hand and examined her face.
"No, still perfect," he said softly and brushed his lips across hers. A thrill of happiness washed through Margaret and she pushed the thoughts of Grace O'Malley's last night at the cove from her head.
"So, what did you make for me, oh mighty chef?" Margaret teased him and kneeled on the blanket by the basket.
"Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, of course," Sean laughed at her as he pulled sandwiches from a small cooler, along with a hunk of cheese, and a plate of fruit. Reaching in, he pulled out a bottle of red wine and brandished it proudly for her. "Red wine, since you didn't get any the other night."
Margaret's heart melted a little bit. "Thank you, this looks lovely." She watched Sean as he patiently worked the cork from the bottle. She wanted his hands on her, not on the bottle. A blush crept up her cheeks as she thought about how her body had responded to him the other day. As if sensing her thoughts, he sliced a glance at her, his eyes heavy with lust. Margaret gulped. Whoo, boy, she thought.
Sean was wicked and pulled two plastic cups from the hamper. Pouring a generous cupful for each of them, he handed her a cup across the blanket. Settling back next to her, he touched the brim of his cup to hers.
"To us," Sean whispered.
"To us," Margaret said, love in her eyes. She took a sip of the wine, allowing the liquid to warm against her tongue. Sean watched her and groaned.
"Food, we need to eat," Sean said, tearing his eyes away from her lips. Margaret smiled to herself as Sean prepared plates of food for the both of them. She felt powerful in this relationship, and confidence crept through her at this newfound ability to seduce. Margaret eyed him as she slipped a grape between her lips and Sean groaned.
"Now you're torturing me," Sean protested.
Margaret found herself laughing freely and she threw her arms around Sean's neck before giving him a quick peck.
"This is fun, thank you for bringing me," Margaret breathed against his mouth.
"Pleasure. Mine. Ah, my pleasure, that is," Sean said gruffly and Margaret leaned back to look out at the water and to savor this moment. The before. She'd never be here again, she thought.
"I want to talk to you about something," Margaret said.
"Oh, you sound serious. Okay, what?" Sean said, his eyes trained on her face.
"I want to talk about Dublin. Were you serious?" Margaret pushed her big toe into the sand, praying that Sean would still want to do what they
"I know, right?" Margaret scoffed with him, though she kept an eye on the water of the cove. Sensing no change in the waves, she motioned for Sean to step from the circle.
"Let's eat, I'm famished," Margaret said, quickly changing the subject.
"Let's find the perfect spot," Sean said eagerly, and carrying the basket in one hand, he took her hand in his other. Margaret smiled up at him as they walked the length of the beach, listening as Sean exclaimed at the beauty of the empty beach and the stark magnificence of the surrounding cliff walls. Margaret tried to block out the power that she felt here and focused only on Sean's happiness.
Sean spread the plaid blanket on a high patch of sand that was sheltered by an outcropping of rocks. The setting sun had warmed the sand and the breeze was light. She laughed as Sean pulled out several mini tiki torches and placed them around the blanket, taking his time with lighting them in the breeze.
"Here, let me help," Margaret insisted and held her hands around the match as he lit each torch.
"I was worried that we would lose the light. Maybe later we can build a bonfire...though it doesn't look like there is a lot of driftwood down here to light a fire."
An image of a burning funeral pyre floating in the water of the cove flashed into Margaret's mind and she gasped and whipped her head around.
"What? Did you hear something?"
"No, um, sorry, a bug hit my face," Margaret laughed at him. Sean cupped her face in his hand and examined her face.
"No, still perfect," he said softly and brushed his lips across hers. A thrill of happiness washed through Margaret and she pushed the thoughts of Grace O'Malley's last night at the cove from her head.
"So, what did you make for me, oh mighty chef?" Margaret teased him and kneeled on the blanket by the basket.
"Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, of course," Sean laughed at her as he pulled sandwiches from a small cooler, along with a hunk of cheese, and a plate of fruit. Reaching in, he pulled out a bottle of red wine and brandished it proudly for her. "Red wine, since you didn't get any the other night."
Margaret's heart melted a little bit. "Thank you, this looks lovely." She watched Sean as he patiently worked the cork from the bottle. She wanted his hands on her, not on the bottle. A blush crept up her cheeks as she thought about how her body had responded to him the other day. As if sensing her thoughts, he sliced a glance at her, his eyes heavy with lust. Margaret gulped. Whoo, boy, she thought.
Sean was wicked and pulled two plastic cups from the hamper. Pouring a generous cupful for each of them, he handed her a cup across the blanket. Settling back next to her, he touched the brim of his cup to hers.
"To us," Sean whispered.
"To us," Margaret said, love in her eyes. She took a sip of the wine, allowing the liquid to warm against her tongue. Sean watched her and groaned.
"Food, we need to eat," Sean said, tearing his eyes away from her lips. Margaret smiled to herself as Sean prepared plates of food for the both of them. She felt powerful in this relationship, and confidence crept through her at this newfound ability to seduce. Margaret eyed him as she slipped a grape between her lips and Sean groaned.
"Now you're torturing me," Sean protested.
Margaret found herself laughing freely and she threw her arms around Sean's neck before giving him a quick peck.
"This is fun, thank you for bringing me," Margaret breathed against his mouth.
"Pleasure. Mine. Ah, my pleasure, that is," Sean said gruffly and Margaret leaned back to look out at the water and to savor this moment. The before. She'd never be here again, she thought.
"I want to talk to you about something," Margaret said.
"Oh, you sound serious. Okay, what?" Sean said, his eyes trained on her face.
"I want to talk about Dublin. Were you serious?" Margaret pushed her big toe into the sand, praying that Sean would still want to do what they
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