“Hardly,” Dylan laughed. “I followed all the rules and did my due diligence. There were no backhanded or shady dealings. It’s on you to protect your land.”
“Have no fear, Dylan Kelly, I plan to protect my land from you at all costs,” Grace hissed, furious at herself for coming to this dinner with him – for allowing herself to like him even just a bit.
“Are you still planning to sue me?”
“Planning?” Grace scoffed, the light of battle in her eyes. “I am.”
“Then screw it,” Dylan said, and tossed his glass aside. In an instant, his lips were on hers, surprising her so completely that Grace froze for a moment before she drew in a breath to shriek at him.
And found herself pulled under by the sheer wave of lust and love that rolled through her.
Refusing to cower, Grace met him heat for heat, running her hands through his hair and arching her back as he broke the kiss and trailed his lips down her neck to nibble at the delicate skin at her throat. Heat raced over her skin, and Grace desperately wished she could pull her sweater off, bare her skin to the night sky and let him kiss every inch of her body. Before she could think further, his lips met hers once more, this time slowing the kiss, deepening it so that he nibbled gently against her lips and cradled her body into his.
Grace immediately felt protected – cherished even – as he kissed her as if she were the most precious thing in the world to him. His hands ran over her body, soothing her, but never taking any liberties. No, Grace thought, he might steal a kiss, but he wouldn’t go past that without her permission. It endeared him to her, even when she wanted to hate him – when she wanted to pretend he was someone else. But beneath it all beat the heart of a man who loved her through all time. If only he would realize it.
Grace gently pulled away, bringing her hand to his cheek so he would meet her eyes.
“Why did you paint that picture?” Grace asked, surprising him.
“In the galley?”
“Aye,” Grace said, staying where she was, cocooned in his arms, her heart hopeful.
“On a whim, I guess. The image had been stuck in my mind for months. I almost feel like I’d been there before, but I have no recollection of seeing it on any of my travels,” Dylan said.
Grace nodded. Sadness washed through her and she lowered her eyes, breaking their gaze.
“Maybe you were there in another life,” Grace said, ever so softly.
Dylan laughed and shook his head, nuzzling into her neck to kiss her once more.
“Doubtful. But maybe… who’s to say. Maybe I did live there in some past life,” Dylan said, distracting Grace as he nibbled at her ear.
“How did you feel when you painted it?” Grace asked, holding her breath and trying to ignore the feelings Dylan’s kisses were stirring low in her gut.
“Like it was the best and the worst place ever,” Dylan said, pausing and looking up at the sky as he tried to gather the words. “I know that sounds weird. But it’s why there is a storm as well as sunshine. Happiness and pain, I suppose. A reminder of how quickly things can change.”
As interpretations of a past life went, it was dead on, Grace mused. He’d captured the joy and love they’d felt there, and the pain and misery of death and loss. Even if Dylan refused to open his mind to see, his soul knew.
He wasn’t ready, Grace realized, and gently disengaged herself from his arms. Slowly she stood and looked down at him.
“I’d like to go home now,” Grace said, sadness lacing her voice.
“Grace… I –” Dylan began, his handsome face a mixture of lust and misery.
“Don’t… Dylan, just don’t. This is one huge mess. I shouldn’t be out here with you. I don’t know how we’ll see our way around this. We’re both stubborn, we want what we want, and neither of us will back down. The heat of the moment changes nothing about what’s going on in our lives. It’s smartest if you just take me home now,” Grace said, rubbing her hands over her arms to console herself.
“I don’t want to. I want to spend time with you,” Dylan said, standing up so he could meet her eyes. “I think about you all the time.”
“And I think about you too,” Grace admitted, allowing him to pull her into a hug. “But unless you call off your project and sign the land back to me and my family, this can never be.”
They didn’t speak for the rest of the ride home. Dylan walked her to her truck and stood, holding the door, as she buckled herself in.
“I’d like to see you again. No matter what happens with our business situation,” Dylan said, his face set in stubborn lines.
“See, you can separate the two – but I can’t. My business is personal,” Grace said softly. Then she turned the engine on and drove into the night.
Chapter 28
Grace didn’t see Dylan again in the days before the town meeting. Nor did she bother reaching out to him. At the very least, he was either kind enough or smart enough to stay off of her property and away from the cove. Grace figured they both needed a cooling off period. It was obvious they were drawn to each other, but only one of them really knew the reason why.
“Though the idiot would know if he’d just put his walls down,” Grace grumbled. For the thousandth time she vacillated between not wanting to ever love that hard again, and wanting him to love her. It was maddening, and she figured even Rosie was getting sick of her moping around the cottage.
Martin had called just that morning to confirm whether she wanted him to move forward with the lawsuit. When Grace found herself experiencing some trepidation, she paused.
“You know what, Martin? Yes, I absolutely do,” Grace had said, her resolve firm. It was time she remembered just who and what she was – a fierce woman who battled for what was right. There was no way around it; what Dylan was insisting on doing was wrong. It was time for Grace to channel her inner pirate queen.
“Then I’ll file them. We’ll have his counsel served tomorrow,” Martin said. “I’m assuming I’ll see you at the meeting?”
“That you will. It’s going to be interesting,” Grace said, her voice grim.
Steeling herself, Grace dressed with care, wanting to project power and confidence before the village. Selecting a cream-colored wool pencil skirt that went to just past her knees, a fitted deep red sweater with a delicate lace-edged collar, and nude pumps, she turned in front of the mirror. It looked just a little too… sexy, she thought and pulled her mass of hair back into a low bun, clipping it at the nape of her neck. Needing the extra energy, she slipped her amethyst necklace over her head, feeling it pulse against her skin as it poured its love and energy into her body.
“Rosie, come,” Grace ordered and Rosie ran to her, the toy bone in her mouth, ever hopeful. “No, you’re coming with me.”
Grace fastened Rosie’s fancy collar – a plaid one in shades of red and blue with a huge bow – and smiled when Rosie pranced around the room. There was something about her fancy collar that made Rosie know she looked extra special. Women were women, no matter the species, Grace thought, and checked the time.
“Come on, Rosie, it’s time for battle.”
Chapter 29
Dylan sat at the dining table of his rental house, brochures, folders, and plans spread out across the entire expanse. He’d spent the last ten minutes pacing, returning each time to look down at where his dream lay.
The last couple of days had been nothing but one headache after another for Dylan. Between feeling insurmountable guilt for kissing Grace once more while still needing to see through his passion project, he’d been driven to visit the whiskey cabinet more often than he’d like to admit.
She still didn’t leave his mind.
Over and over, he replayed how her lips had felt against his own, her taste, the very essence of her seeming to fill him with light and love. It was like she’d flipped a switch inside him, and he’d gone from numbness to feeling all the emotions at once. More than once he wondered if she’d used some sort of magick on h
im. Reluctant to explore that avenue too much, Dylan had chalked it up to plain old infatuation. It was because he hadn’t been with a woman for so long, he tried to tell himself.
His dreams had been increasingly chaotic, and he’d wake drenched in sweat, only remembering flashes of them. A beach. The cottage in his painting. Grace laughing as she rose over him and covered him with her body.
Dylan clenched his fists as he looked down at the papers spread before him. The Grace’s Cove Cultural & Community Center. His people had done a good job with the branding, designing a neat little logo with a kid on a sailboat. All he’d wanted to do was build something that would give back to the community – and the land and water access at the cove had seemed like the perfect place at the time. Dylan raked his hand through his hair and closed his eyes, conjuring up the vision he’d been working on for months.
It was meant to be an all-inclusive community center. He wanted to offer everything from sailing to business classes, free to young and old alike. It would be a place where there were no barriers to entry and people could take the first steps in learning a trade or picking up a new hobby – it might even become a gathering place for retirees. It combined all of his loves at once – the sea, learning new things, and passing on the gift of mentorship to others. Now Dylan wasn’t sure what he was willing to sacrifice to get something he had wanted so badly, but he was someone who was almost impossible to dislodge once he had dug in his heels. He was certain he was in the right – this was important, after all – but as the days went by it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to see what he was in the right about.
“They’ve done a brilliant job with it,” Liam said, coming to stand by Dylan and looking down at the designs. He’d been watching his boss pace for the last fifteen minutes in silence and decided it was time to intervene.
“Aye,” Dylan said, reaching for his coffee.
“I really don’t think all is lost. Even if Grace is suing you. Let me ask you this – why does it have to be on the cove? Could we find a better spot for it?” Liam asked, knowing he could speak frankly with his friend. “Perhaps compromise a little? Make it a win-win for everyone.”
“I don’t know, Liam. I really don’t. I don’t know if it’s because I’m stubborn and refusing to bend, but there’s something that is making me stick to this, and on this parcel of land. I know I can be difficult or refuse to back down at times, but usually, at the very least, I can back up my reasoning for doing so. Would it be a million times easier for me to just switch the location and become the hero in town for making Grace happy while also doing something good for the community? Of course. So why am I not doing that?” Dylan said, turning to look at his oldest friend.
“Maybe you’re worried that if you let a certain blue-eyed beauty get her way, you’ll have no reason to spar with her?” Liam asked.
“But that would be a good thing, no? Then we could just get down to the business of figuring out our attraction to each other,” Dylan bit out, sipping his now-cold coffee and rifling through a few more papers on the table.
“You’re certain the attraction is mutual?” Liam asked and then held up his hands and laughed when Dylan leveled a look at him. “Hey, I understand that women find you irresistible. I’m just saying that maybe it grates a bit that she turns you down.”
“Oh please, not all women find me attractive. However, I’m capable of reading when a woman is interested, and Grace definitely is responsive to me. To a point. Then it’s like she pulls the door closed, locks it, and disappears from me. And I can’t reach her,” Dylan said.
“I can’t say that I blame the lass. You’ve put her in a tricky position. She’s drawn to you, but you’re the one trying to take her land from her. From what I can tell with my deep understanding of human nature” – Liam smiled cheekily – “you’ve really left her no way out. You’ve boxed her in, but instead of capitulating as you expected, she’s fought you back on every turn, and politely declined your personal advances. All in all, she’s your perfect match.”
“Wait… what? She’s not… it’s not…” Dylan said, rolling his eyes at Liam. The man always wanted to find romance everywhere he looked.
“I know what I’m seeing, don’t I? I like her for you. Now, we must get going. It wouldn’t do to be late walking into the village meeting where they’re about to behead you. Oh, this is going to be fun,” Liam decided.
Dylan just shook his head at him as he rolled the papers up and shoved them into a tube. “Why am I friends with you again?”
“Because I help you get your head out of your arse,” Liam said, chuckling at Dylan’s glare. “Did you ask Grace about her magick?”
“I did not,” Dylan bit out, not wanting to think too much about it.
“What about the cove?” Liam said, not pressing the point.
“I didn’t ask her about it either. But my research and speaking with other locals all brings up the same story – don’t go there, enchanted or cursed waters,” Dylan said, putting the papers in a knapsack and slinging a coat over his shoulders.
“I’ve uncovered a tidbit from the lovely artist at the gallery down the street. I bought two of her paintings – I was helpless to resist,” Liam said as they left the house and made their way to the truck.
“Aislinn? Grace’s aunt?”
“Yes, that’s the one. An extraordinary artist,” Liam said, climbing into the truck.
“What did you learn?”
“It seems there’s a lot of lore linked to the supposed enchantment of the cove. In fact, I’m now dying to go visit with more of an open mind. They believe it to be Grace O’Malley’s final resting place. Hence the name Grace’s Cove,” Liam said.
“Grace O’Malley?” Dylan asked, vaguely remembering some bits about her from his history classes.
“Yes, indeed. The infamous pirate queen.”
Chapter 30
It was a madhouse.
Grace had expected a good turnout, but she’d not expected what looked to be the entire village already seated and ready for the action at the town hall, which had been built just a few years back. With standing room only, people spilled out onto the street and voices rose to greet her and Rosie as they strode up the sidewalk.
“Cait saved you a spot up front,” Casey said, giving her a quick hug and ushering her inside.
“I can’t believe everyone is here already. The meeting doesn’t start for a while yet,” Grace said.
“It’s the talk of the town. Nobody wanted to miss it,” Casey said, acknowledging all the businesses that had closed for the day. There were probably poor tourists wandering the streets, wondering if there was some holiday that they didn’t know about.
“Gracie!” Grace turned at the voice and almost dissolved in tears, so shocked was she to see her grandmother and grandfather hustling up the sidewalk, identical looks of concern on their faces.
“Nan, Papa!” Grace was enveloped in an awkward three-way hug by Margaret and Sean. They lived in Dublin and ran a cheerful boat tour and fishing charter business, and had recently taken a holiday – to Iceland, of all places. Grace hadn’t expected to hear from them for at least another week or so.
“A little birdie told us there was some trouble down here, so we had the plane drop us at Shannon instead,” Margaret explained, looking like a million dollars in a chic leopard-print coat, white blouse, and crisp black pants. Sean – as handsome as ever, with just a bit less hair these days – smiled down at her.
“You know we’ve got your back for anything, Gracie; you’ve only to ask,” Sean said, patting her arm.
“I’m so sorry you came all this way. I think after the meeting today, everything will be fine. But we’ll see,” Grace said, so happy that they had come.
“Honestly, we didn’t get many details. Something about someone trying to force you off your land. I never…! Some people think they can take all the liberties. They obviously have no idea that you’ve a real estate powerhouse in your corner,”
Margaret sniffed.
Grace bit back a smile. “Don’t worry, Nan. I’m suing him,” Grace said.
“That’s a good girl,” Margaret said, patting her arm.
“Well, I’ll be!” Sean all but shouted, causing Grace to jump in surprise. She turned to see him striding away, the crowd parting for him easily.
“I swear, he just knows everyone. Everywhere we go, he’s chatting it up with someone,” Margaret said, craning her head to try and see who her husband was currently embracing in one of those awkward man hugs with a double pat on the back.
“How does he…” Grace said, shaking her head in confusion until everything clicked into place.
“Margaret, Gracie…” Sean crowed, towing a surprised Dylan Kelly through the crowd. “This is Dylan. I’ve mentored him since he was just a young lad. He’s gone on to do great things.”
Grace heard roaring in her ears, and she thought for the briefest of moments she might just faint on the spot. How could he have not told her that her grandfather was his mentor?
“Oh, Dylan! I’m delighted to meet you. Sean has spoken of you so many times over the years. He’s had nothing but good things to say about you,” Margaret said, smiling when Dylan kissed her hand. Leaning in, she whispered in Grace’s ear, “He’s a handsome lad. And quite well-to-do. You could do worse for yourself, dear. I say we all have lunch after this.”
“Nan…” Grace just shook her head, seeing the bomb coming from a mile away but not sure how to warn them.
“I doubt Grace will be wanting to have lunch with me,” Dylan said, reading her perfectly, “seeing as she’s currently suing me.”
“What?” Margaret said, coming to attention and turning from one to the other. Sean stepped back, looking mortally wounded as he stared at Dylan with confusion and then disgust. Grace could only imagine how that must feel, to have his mentor look at him in such a manner after all these years.
“What have you done to my Gracie?” Sean said, stepping into Dylan’s space and meeting him eye-to-eye.
Wild Irish Grace: The Mystic Cove Series, Book 7 Page 13
