Maeve

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Maeve Page 12

by Josie Riviera


  Colleen gave her a hard stare. “Finish Perfect Match the way you started, optimistic and determined. Be the woman he fell in love with—the self-assertive woman who always rises in hard times.”

  Maeve called a taxi to the Dublin port, where she’d booked a round-trip ferry ticket between Dublin and Holyhead.

  Rain was still falling, and she pulled up the hood of her bright-red rain jacket as she walked swiftly into the terminal. A glance at her watch assured there was enough time to collect her ticket and enter the check-in point with maybe five minutes to spare.

  She saw the broad-shouldered man immediately, because he was tall among the crowd, striding purposefully across the ferry dock and wheeling a small leather carry-on. In his other hand, he held a bouquet of orange lilies. He paused, questioning a deckhand, then nodded his thanks and passed through the tollbooth.

  She tilted back her head, devouring every inch of his handsome face. Steps wide, she ran toward him.

  “Edward!”

  He looked around. He didn’t see her at first. And then he did.

  “Maeve!” He found her in an instant, started to reach for her, but then stopped.

  “Why are you in Dublin? In the ferry terminal?” Warily, she scanned his face for a sign he’d come on business or for some other reason that had nothing to do with her. Or perhaps he’d come to berate her for not answering his calls and to tell her he never wanted to see her again.

  He smiled into her curious gaze. “I just got off the Holyhead ferry.”

  Holyhead.

  “Maeve. Luv.” Heartbreakingly handsome, he set down the flowers and held out his arms. She dropped her bag and rushed into his embrace.

  “I missed you so much,” he murmured against her lips.

  “I missed you too.” She molded herself closer, fearful that if they came apart, he would disappear; and the painful torment of losing him would become a void she’d never be able to fill.

  When their kiss finally ended, his arms tightened possessively, and he rested his chin on her hair. He paused a moment, waiting for their breathing to smooth out.

  Slightly, he drew back. “Where are you headed, Maeve?”

  “I intended to travel to London. But not anymore.” She tossed a rueful glance toward the Holyhead ferry, which was signaling its departure with three horn bellows.

  Understanding dawned in Edward’s eyes. “For me? You were going to London to see me?”

  “Aye.”

  He lifted her off her feet and whirled her around. He was a man with the power to carry her.

  “I was bound for 101 Fourth Street,” he said.

  Her address.

  “Maeve?” He studied her face. “How did you know I’d be here? I didn’t tell anyone—”

  “A very fortunate coincidence. Call it happenstance, call it fate.” She called it the benevolence of a loving God and whispered a prayer of thanks. She and Edward had nearly missed each other.

  “Why did you decide to come to me?” His gaze never left hers. “You’ve ignored all my messages.”

  She twined her hands around his neck, aching with desire, unconcerned about showing her feelings. “My friend Colleen made me understand that I needed to face my emotions.”

  “And they are?”

  “I love you, Edward, and I won’t deny it another second.” She lay her cheek against his hard chest, loving the sound of his solid heart beating. “It’s crazy, I know, because we’ve just met and—”

  “And I love you.” Sincere, honest emotion deepened his words. “Maeve Doherty, I love you very, very much.”

  She looked up at him and it was all there. His love, his desire for her.

  Suddenly awkward, he bent down and handed her the bouquet of orange flowers. “These are for you. I know you loved the lilies in Corsica. They’re a bit bent, I’m afraid … I can get you another … Maybe roses instead?”

  “Lilies are perfect.” She took the flowers and breathed in the heady scent of Corsica. “Thank you.” Her voice broke. “Thank you.”

  As a drizzly Dublin day neared to evening, they sat on a bench under an overhang and gazed out onto the harbor. Passengers embarked and disembarked on infinite journeys, leaving behind wet footprints on the docks. Some smartly dressed, some simple and plain.

  The lilies were on her lap, their carry-on bags at their feet.

  Then, since neither of them had eaten, they took a taxi back into the city to Maeve’s favorite coffee shop, The Ground Café. With her bouquet of lilies on the table, they enjoyed lemon scones washed down by the coffee of the day, a rich, strong brew.

  “All that separated us was a ferry ride,” Edward said. “Why didn’t you respond to my thousand and one messages?”

  “I was wrong. And I shouldn’t have blamed you for the actions of your friend.” She lowered her head, twisted her hands together. It was difficult to speak. “I lost my job. Merrimac charged me with collusion and jeopardizing our accounts with J and J Supplies by giving out bidding information. Someone called my company Friday morning to report me. That’s why I had to go back immediately.” She looked up. “I’m not dishonest, Edward. Merrimac’s been fair, and I’d never do anything to damage them.”

  He took her hands in his, squeezing lightly, offering his loyalty. This persuasive, powerful man was her champion, and the thought made her proud.

  “You’ve done nothing wrong.” He paused. “Do you think Bentley …?”

  “Aye. At least I assume.”

  “I’ll find out the truth.” He stiffened, a cold, flinty expression crossing his face. Then he nodded his gaze gentled. “So now you’re jobless.”

  “Aye, although there’s a prospect posted in the Dublin paper that I’ll reply to tomorrow. The business is a block short from my flat, so I can walk there.” She tilted her head. “How did you know my address?”

  He looked out the nearest window. “The rain’s stopped. How about a walk?”

  She agreed, and as they stepped outside, she looked up. Far to the east, a bell tower tolled. Her gaze drifted, resting on the first star of the evening.

  He didn’t answer and hung an arm around her shoulders. The fierce downpour had stopped. Dusk had turned a dove-gray sky into reddish hues. Low clouds were parting for a clear, bright nightfall.

  The same question plagued her and she turned sideways to face him. “Edward, you said you were headed to Fourth Street. How did you know my address?”

  He slipped an arm around her waist. “How did you know mine?”

  “I didn’t. Colleen gave me the address to Penelope and Edward headquarters. I hoped someone would be there on Sunday.”

  He smiled. “Rest assured, that someone would be me. Karen separated from her husband and flew off to Australia on the family’s private jet to spend the weekend with a man she met on Bentley’s yacht.”

  “I wish Karen luck.”

  He sighed. “At the rate she’s going, she’ll need it.”

  Maeve shook her head. Then she stopped walking, forcing him to stop and regarded him frankly. “Edward, how did you know my address?”

  “First, I planned to contact the Perfect Match people. The … the …” He snapped his fingers.

  “Yates. Dawson and Amy Yates.”

  “Right. But I didn’t need to. Pierre gave me your information.”

  “He’d never agree to give out my personal information. He’s much too professional.” She raised a dubious eyebrow. “Would he?”

  “For love, he couldn’t refuse.” Edward chuckled. “And …”

  “And?”

  “Begging.”

  “You begged him?”

  He shrugged. “I added bribery. I offered him a head concierge position at Penelope and Edward’s Nice resort at double his current salary.”

  “Surely he didn’t accept.”

  “Actually, he did, so his future is ensured.” Edward bent his head to capture her mouth in a long, leisurely kiss. “As for your future … I don’t see that you’ll be ne
eding to apply for that job. I can offer you a much better one … Mrs. Newell.”

  Her heart gave a lurch. He announced his intention so simply, so like him. She understood his core, trustworthy and giving, and she treasured it. Treasured him.

  He took her into his arms and gazed into her eyes, which were quickly filling with happiness. “You haven’t answered my question,” he said quietly. “Will you marry me?”

  Her answer began in her spirit as her heart filled with too many sensations to name. In a whisper, and in a perfect French accent, she whispered, “’Quand il me prend dans ses bras, il me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose.’”

  Edward held her closer. “Your quote on your dating profile.”

  “Aye. You remembered. And Pierre taught me how to say it in French.”

  “So, I noticed. Now, will you marry me?”

  “Aye. Because I love you very, very much.”

  “And I love you, Maeve Doherty.”

  Softly, she recited the English translation of the song lyric. “‘When he takes me in his arms, and speaks to me softly, I see the world through rose-colored glasses.’”

  This was love, and perfection. And the man who held her in his arms was her Perfect Match.

  THE END

  A Note From The Author

  Dear Friends,

  Maeve is set in Corsica, a charming French island located in the Mediterranean Sea.

  I’ve always been fascinated with traveling the world and exploring new places. In my spare time, I appreciate “armchair vacations” and watch popular television shows in exotic locales. Several shows were an inspiration for my story.

  You’ll find that Maeve is a strong Irish heroine. Intelligent and competent, with a beautiful, gentle spirit, she sets out on the adventure of her dreams.

  And of course, Edward, the hero, conquers his own challenges.

  Despite their differences, and the fact that their economic situations are worlds apart, I found that the characters “clicked,” and I loved writing this book!

  It is my hope that you will enjoy this heart-tugging romance, and come to embrace the supporting characters and their ongoing adventures in future books.

  Happy Reading!

  Josie Riviera

  Tata Jeanne’s Cheese Omelet Recipe

  Ingredients

  6 eggs

  5 oz of fresh ricotta cheese (or goat cheese)

  handful of fresh chives, green onion, or mint

  1 tsp. grated garlic

  1 tbsp olive oil

  salt

  pepper

  Instructions

  Break the eggs in a bowl and beat. Season with salt and pepper.

  In a non-stick pan, heat olive oil. Add grated garlic and fry. Pour eggs over and cook.

  Spoon in ricotta or fresh goat cheese. Let ingredients settle until cheese is warmed.

  Sprinkle with fresh chopped chives, green onion, or mint.

  Enjoy!

  Acknowledgments

  An appreciative thank you to my patient husband, Dave, and our three wonderful children.

  About the Author

  Josie Riviera is a USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary, inspirational, and historical sweet romances that read like Hallmark movies. She lives in the Charlotte, NC, area with her wonderfully supportive husband. They share their home with an adorable shih tzu, who constantly needs grooming, and live in an old house forever needing renovations.

  Have you ever tried something you were afraid to try because it mattered so much to you? I did, when I started writing. Take the chance, everyone, and just do something you love.

  Become a member of my Read and Review VIP Facebook group for exclusive giveaways and ARCs.

  To connect with Josie, visit her webpage and subscribe to her newsletter. As a thank-you, she’ll send you a free sweet romance novella directly to your inbox.

  josieriviera.com/

  [email protected]

  Also by Josie Riviera

  Seeking Patience

  Seeking Catherine (always Free!)

  Seeking Fortune

  Oh Danny Boy

  I Love You More

  A Snowy White Christmas

  A Portuguese Christmas

  Holiday Hearts

  Candleglow and Mistletoe

  The Seeking Series

  Thank You

  Thank you for reading Maeve’s story!

  Bree’s book is next. You’ll find a Sneak Peek in the Excerpt.

  Find all the Perfect Match books at Amazon!

  BREE (Raine English)

  MARNI (Aileen Fish)

  MOLLY (Julie Jarnagin)

  JADE (Rachelle Ayala)

  AVA (Denise Devine)

  MAEVE (Josie Riviera)

  For more fun and romance, be sure to read the Beach Brides series, the inspiration for Perfect Match. It involves twelve friends who decide to meet on a Caribbean island. As a silly dare during her last night there, each heroine decides to stuff a note in a bottle addressed to her “dream hero” and cast it out to sea.

  Find the Beach Brides at Amazon!

  Beach Brides

  Excerpt from Bree

  Bree’s Perfect Match Dating Profile…

  MissWanderlust, 29

  “Not all who wander are lost.” –J.R.R. Tolkien

  I’m an outgoing lady who loves to travel. I’ve never been the type to stay in one place for long. Some call me stubborn and headstrong. I say I know what I want and don’t hesitate to get it. If you like adventure and are up for a wild ride, then you could be the partner I’m looking for.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Bree Wilson’s chest tightened as an unusual bout of jealousy took hold. Her best friend was planning his wedding, and although she was ecstatic to see Dawson madly in love, unfortunately, her fate didn’t include such a thing. She’d always been okay with that, though, so why this odd feeling?

  She watched Dawson pop open a bottle of wine, hand a glass to his fiancée, and fill it along with two others. A moment later, he and Amy were at her side, and the three of them were toasting to their futures. She knew what theirs held, a picture-perfect life in this gorgeous twenty-room mansion they’d just built along the South Carolina coast. Her gaze shifted out the open French doors to the waves sluicing against the shore. What did her future hold? Concrete, glass, and steel. That was a given. But a man? Probably not. At least not long term. She’d resigned herself to that years ago, so the odd feeling that had moved from her chest to her gut must be due to her changing relationship with Dawson. Things would never be the same between them again. There’d be no more three a.m. phone calls when he was wound up and couldn’t sleep because something had gone wrong at work. He had Amy to help him now. And that was okay. The beautiful brunette was precisely the type of woman Bree had hoped he’d fall for. Still, she was a little bit nostalgic for those good old days.

  Not wanting her spell of melancholy noticed, she took another sip of wine, longer this time, and then glanced at the invitations on the coffee table. “I always envisioned you'd have a huge, elaborate wedding,” she said, guessing there couldn’t be more than ten invites on the pile.

  He followed her gaze and chuckled as he took a satin covered box out of a cabinet. “You know me too well, Bree. That’s what we’re having.” Dawson handed her an elegant lace wedding invitation held shut with a teal blue ribbon.

  She fought hard to keep her fingers from trembling as she opened it and read:

  Please Join Us For

  The Wedding Celebration Of

  Amy Sheridan

  and

  Dawson Yates

  The Crystal Ballroom, Shoreline Country Club

  750 Franklin Street, Ocean Ridge, South Carolina

  Saturday, June 9th, 2018

  At 5 o’clock in the evening

  Dinner & merriment

  to follow ceremony

  An army of emotions flooded her, and she chided herself for the tears that stung her lids. “Two
months,” she said more to herself than to them.

  Dawson draped his arm across Amy’s shoulders and pulled her closer to him. “I’d get married tomorrow, but even I can’t get a wedding planner that quickly. Besides, we needed to give you time to clear your calendar, Bree. I can’t have my best woman not able to attend.”

  She raised a brow at him. “Are you asking me to be in your wedding?”

  Dawson flashed her a crooked grin. “Of course. Who else would I want to stand up for me?”

  “Do I get to wear a tux?”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to wear anything else.”

  “Then I can’t possibly say no.” She hugged Amy, and then Dawson, inhaling the sexy muskiness of his cologne. Swallowing hard, she said, “I’m so happy for you guys, and honored to be in your wedding.”

  “Be sure to take off a few days. I don’t want you having to leave because you’ve got some resort opening in Costa Rica.”

  “I promise.” Although she laughed, what Dawson said was entirely true. She worked incredibly long hours, seven days a week most of the time. But that’s what it took if she was going to take over her father’s empire someday. Wilson International owned a slew of high-end properties across the globe, and they kept acquiring more each year.

  “Oh, and be sure to bring a date,” he added.

  She frowned. “Okay, now you’re pushing things.”

  “I thought you’d say that.” Dawson picked up one of the invites from the coffee table and handed it to her.

 

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