Irish Dreams (3 page)

“You’d better hold your groom accountable,” Bryan said. “Woman’s got a lump on her head the size of a football.”

That bad? She reached up and fingered the bandage, only to have her hand swatted aside by Elsie. “Don’t mind him, he means a soccer ball.”

“Is a soccer ball any better?”

Bryan paced out of the room and Maggie stretched her neck to hear his conversation with Ethan. No use, since he spoke too low. “Stand still.” Maggie winced as her friend pulled the bandage aside, taking several hairs with it. “What a first day you experienced. At least you’re not soaked,” Elsie said. “Are you sure you feel up for dinner with my parents?”

No, but it wasn’t every day her best friend got married. “I’ll make do, although I may turn in early. Where are they?”

“Should be showering upstairs.”

A hot shower sounded amazing now. “I might do the same before dinner.”

Bryan entered, Blackberry in one hand, a first aid kit in the other. “Ethan sends his sincerest apologies regarding Misty Eyes. Said he’d like to make it up to you.”

“Won’t be necessary,” Maggie said. She wasn’t going to earn herself a notch on his belt, unless… “His girlfriend is certainly beautiful.”

“You mean his wife?” Bryan shrugged, clueless to the fact he’d burst her bubble of hope. “Woman’s okay if you like gold-digging, back-stabbing–”

“Bryan.” Elsie shook her head. “Don’t mind him. He doesn’t like her.”

“Yes, dearest.” Baring a mischievous grin, he bent and kissed the side of Elsie’s neck. “I’m off to get some work done in our den before dinner. I’ll see you in a bit, love. You ladies behave.” He turned and exited through an arched entryway.

“We, behave?” Elsie asked then smiling, placed a new bandage on Maggie’s head. “Speaking of behaving, what did you think of Ethan?”

“Nice.” Outrageously gorgeous with dreamy bottle green eyes, a mouth made for sinning...need she go on? Oh God, she’d kissed a married man. She’d become her own worst nightmare.

“Nice? Describing him as nice is like saying a lion is a cute cat. Come on, Mags. You may have dated the world’s biggest asshole. Doesn’t mean you’re blind.”

“He’s married.”

“Ah.” She waved a hand. “A technicality.”

“Um, that’s a pretty big technicality. I’m no home wrecker.”

“I didn’t mean you were.”

“I know you didn’t.” Maggie took a step back. “Now if you don’t mind, I need a shower. I’ll see you later.”

“You better get used to having him around. He’s Bryan’s best man. Only makes sense for the best man and maid-of-honor to spend time with each other.”

“Spending time with each other is not exactly dating a married man, Elsie.”

Elsie shrugged, eyes wide. “’Course not. See you in a bit.” She blew a kiss and left the kitchen.

Somehow Maggie doubted the next few days would be simple.

* * * *

“That dress is beyond stunning on you,” Elsie said as she shut the door to Maggie’s bedroom. She crossed the room and sat on the bed behind where Maggie stood in front of an oval-shaped, standalone mirror.

“You think?” Maggie turned to face her friend, and smoothed a handed over the fitted strapless bodice. The dress’s skirt flared out with a spin. “You should like it, considering you helped me pick it out. Never thought I’d wear it. You sure it’s not too formal?”

“Um, excuse me.” Elsie stood and pointed at her lavender gown. “Anymore poof and I’ll float up into the sky.”

She shook her head. Poof or not, Elsie looked like a doll in the quaintly decorated guestroom. The periwinkle and white floral comforter matched her bright eyes and the ornately carved rocking chair to the side of the bed seemed to complete the scene. “Totally different. You’re the bride. A bride is allowed as much poof as she desires.” Maggie returned to the mirror, fiddling with a stray ringlet. “My hair is insane tonight. I can’t control these ringlets.”

“No more.” Elsie came up behind and grabbed her shoulders. “In another minute, you will be driving me crazy. You look gorgeous. Let’s go before Bryan thinks I’ve run away with you.”

“Fine.” Reluctantly and with her stomach in knots, Maggie let her friend lead her out of the bedroom. Just a pre-wedding party. No reason for nervousness. Didn’t change her sweaty palms or weak knees, though.

“You know, all this fussing, one might actually think you wanted to look especially nice. Any reason?” Elsie said.

“What do you mean? What about looking nice for you? You’re my best friend.”

“Hmm, you didn’t look nice for me in fourth grade after you slipped and fell in a mud puddle. And you
weren’t
nice when I went to help you. Instead, you pulled me into it. Nor were you nice in eighth grade when you tricked me into doing the dunk tank for our school fair.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Now is different. You know what I mean.” She grinned. “Besides, mud is good for skin.”

As they walked down the upstairs hallways, Maggie’s heartbeat sped up its tempo. Whether she wanted to see him or not, Ethan would be there. She lifted a finger to her mouth and smoothed her bottom lip. She could almost imagine the tingle of his lips touching hers.

Ugh, the man was married. What was her problem? She was no better off than Elsie with her remarks–even worse because she’d kissed him.

“Hey.” Elsie paused and grabbed her arm. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Don’t know. You went space cadet on me. Thought you might be thinking about Rick.”

Just hearing his name made her chest constrict. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Oh honey, I’m sorry.” Elsie hugged her. “I want you happy. I thought… Never mind. Let’s go down and have fun.” Tugging her hand, Elsie pulled her over to the banister overlooking the large ballroom. “Do you see Bryan?”

She didn’t, but what she did see was magical. Renaissance era paintings of cherubs and idyllic maidens lined the walls and ornate carvings decorated the seams where they met. Golden chandeliers hung from a domed ceiling.

“It feels like we stepped back in time, somewhat,” Maggie said. At the foot of a sweeping marble staircase, uniformed wait staff wove through the crowd, effortlessly carrying silver trays lined with hors d’oeurvres and champagne. “Everything is beautiful.” Men were dressed in three-piece suits or black dinner jackets and crisp white shirts, while women wore long evening gowns and large gemstone necklaces, assuaging any fears she had about her own formal dress. “Don’t you think so?”

“Aye, I’d have to agree with you there.”

Heat crept up Maggie’s neck. Ethan’s voice. Guests moved aside. He and Bryan stepped through an opening in the crowd.

Her stomach fluttered like a school girl’s as they stood mere feet away from her and Elsie, each dashingly handsome in a tux. Slightly taller, Bryan was fairer where Ethan was darker–except for his mesmerizing eyes–and broader in the shoulders.

Ethan neared, and for an instant, Maggie let her eyes flutter closed as she inhaled his scent of fresh mountain air and soap.

“Ladies,” he said.

“Ethan.” Elsie kissed him on the cheek. “You made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Do you like the decor?”

“Decor and more.” He rested his gaze on Maggie then it strayed back to Elsie. “I’d say this party is a complete success minus a missing bride.”

“We were on our way down.” Elsie joined her fiance and gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek. Her devilish expression promised not-so-chaste kisses later.

“Where is my kiss hello?” Ethan stepped closer.

Maggie’s breath caught in her throat. “I...”

“On the cheek.” With a lean in her direction, Ethan lightly brushed his lips along the side of her face.

“I say we go down. Guests have been waiting awhile.” Bryan took a step back, tugging Elsie with him.

“What?” Maggie met Elsie’s gaze. “You’re leaving?”

“We’ll be right back. Ethan won’t bite, right?” She pinned Ethan with her most take-charge stare.

“Definitely not.” He raised his hands in surrender as his mouth curved upward. “I will behave like the utmost gentleman.”

“All right.” Turning, Elsie followed her fiance, leaving Maggie standing alone with Ethan.

“
Married
gentlemen don’t kiss or ask for kisses, especially with unknown women,” she said.

Ethan frowned and adjusted his cuffs. “You’re right.”

With one look at his contrite expression, sadness and a hollowed out feeling filled her. How could one man affect her this easily? After Rick, how could she ask such a silly question? It appeared learning from mistakes was beyond her capabilities.

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” Ethan said.

“No worries. After what you did yesterday, I owe you.”

“How about a dance?” Hand held out, he nodded toward the floor below. “Friends. Completely platonic dancing.”

Absolutely nothing with this man could be completely platonic.

She quickly quashed the thought and slipped her hand in his.

Chapter 4

Maggie Christy was the last woman Ethan needed right now and the only woman he wanted. Tomorrow night, freedom struck. This was a time for planning a proclamation of bachelorhood, not thinking how Maggie would look outside her beautiful gown. Part of him yearned for both, but the wariness in her gorgeous hazel eyes warned him off. Not a woman one trifled with.

“Do you mind a slow one?” he asked but didn’t give her a chance to answer before pulling her onto the dance floor. Her body shivered beneath his touch along the small of her back. “You cold?”

“No.” She cleared her throat. “You took me by surprise.”

“Forgive me. I react a bit quickly at times. If you’re feeling uncomfortable, tell me. I’ll back away.”

She nodded. “How do you know Bryan?”

“We’ve been friends since the beginning of time, or at least as long as I can remember.”

She broke into a big smile. Full rosy lips, white teeth–stunning. Her expression took his breath away.

“Elsie and I too,” she said. “Sometimes it does feel like it’s been forever. Other times, I feel my life has passed on fast forward.”

His tongue seemed stuck as she glanced at her hands. Her fingers were long, graceful. Her skin appeared soft. He cleared his throat. “I know what you mean.” His voice sounded gruff. “Either way, she’s been talking about you non-stop. If my mind hadn’t been elsewhere yesterday, I might have realized you were Maggie. We have quite a few tourists show up around these parts due mainly to nearby Powerscourt Estate.”

“I’ve heard about Powerscourt. Is it nice?”

“Beautiful.”

“Maybe I’ll check it out,” she said, biting her lip.

“I’d be happy to show you.”

“A guide would be nice here. Phoenix is a sprawling city but it’s definitely more crowded and built up than this part of Ireland.”

“Do you like city life or do you prefer the open Irish countryside?” He slowed their dancing, suddenly very interested in hearing her answer.

“I’m not sure. I’ve been a bit tired of it lately. When I come on trips like this, it’s like a dream. I wish I could stay here forever.”

“And why can’t you?”

Her cheeks grew flushed and she laughed. Her lashes shaded her eyes as she looked away. “I just couldn’t.” She bit down on her plump bottom lip as if considering her words.

“Why not?” What reason did she have to be so timid? He itched to peel away her unruly ringlets and turn her face toward him.

“I don’t know. What about you? Do you go where you want?”

“Aye. I buy and build hotels. Where I like land is where I stay. Ireland is always home. But don’t change the subject. I want to know why you can’t stay.” Was there someone else in her life?

“We’re talking about two different situations. Your job requires you to move around. Most people don’t just get up and rearrange their entire lives.”

“They might for the right reason or if perhaps their lives needed a bit of rearranging.”

She turned and met his gaze. A spark of heat lit her eyes. “Maybe.”

“Maybe I’m right?”

As if to answer, she opened her perfect, glossy lips, and for an instant, an urge to kiss her overpowered him. She studied him openly, her gaze combing his features to rest on his lips. The thud of his heartbeat vibrated in his ear and the air between them seemed charged with an energy so intense, she had to feel it too.

Her lids grew heavy and she blinked. “Ethan.”

His stomach clenched in anticipation as he leaned closer to her.

“What a surprise, already meeting fine Irish folk,” a man said beside them.

Ethan didn’t recognize the voice. Neither did he like how Maggie tensed in his arms.

“Rick.” She took a step back. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” Rick said.

Based on the accent, the other man must be a Yank. A spoiled, pretty boy dressed in a designer suit and graced with a decent–if not slim–build. Ethan had come across his type one too many times before. Of course, Rick rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps it was the air of arrogance he wore along with his diamond encrusted cufflinks. Or maybe his curt tone explained the sudden desire to drive his fist into the man’s smug expression.