Prologue #2
She could have been the first woman on the moon or the one to find the cure for cancer and it would not have made a difference.
Her mother did not love her and when confronted with that accusation, she had turned even colder and more distant. She had not answered the question directly, only repeating what Kiara had heard her say a dozen times growing up.
That she had been forced into a marriage she did not want because she had been careless enough to get pregnant.
But she had done her duty, hadn't she? Hadn't she borne the rigors of a difficult pregnancy that culminated in the long and arduous twelve hour labor that brought her into the world?
Wasn't that enough for her to be grateful for?
"No, mother." Kiara muttered, taking another sip of the tea, which so far had not managed to calm her down. "A child needs to know she was not put on this world out of a sense of duty."
Sighing softly, she put away the cup and decided to try and get some sleep.
She was so focused on tugging on the stubborn dandelions, sneaking between her freesias, that she failed to hear the vehicle pull to a stop at her gate. It was the sound of the gate creaking open that alerted her she had company.
Lifting her head, she narrowed her eyes as the familiar figure came strolling along her cobbled driveway as if he belonged there. The enormous nerve of the man!
Firming her lips, she shoved to her feet, eyes blazing.
"I could say I was just in the neighborhood, but you're too far out for that to be true.
" His charming grin slid off her like water off a duck's back.
"So, I'll just be honest and say that I went out of my way to get your address from your agent.
" His eyes flickered over the floppy edged straw hat covering her braids. "Love the outfit."
She was wearing an oversized flannel shirt and baggy jogging pants. And still managed to look completely adorable.
"This is bordering on harassment." Her chin lifted, eyes frosty. "Am I going to have to call the cops on you?"
Rocking back on his heels, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his faded denims.
"It might have to come to that. Your garden is a sight." He nodded towards a clumping of cheerful daffodils. "My mother would love seeing these. Your blurb did say you were an avid gardener and loved to relax among your plants. I thought it was exaggerated."
He cocked his head to stare at her, lips curving as he studied her furious expression.
"I did warn you I wasn't going to give up."
"Yes, you did." Dragging off the gloves, Kiara slapped them on her left thigh, giving him the impression that she wanted to slap him instead. "Go away, Mr. O'Sullivan. I don't have time for your particular brand of humor."
"Humor is it?" he started forward, amused when she stepped back in retreat. "I meant every word. Ask anyone about me. When I see something or someone I want, I never stop until it or in this case, she is mine."
Her eyes kindled dangerously as she forced herself to stay where she was.
"I'm not a possession. Having money might have fooled you into thinking that you can do whatever you please, but you're dead wrong. Stop that!" she swatted at the hand reaching out to toy with a braid that had worked loose and was tumbling over her shoulder.
"It suits you." He let go of the braid, only to trail a finger over her left cheek. "You've a bit of smudge here."
"Look..." Before she could blast him some more, the sky opened up.
"Now, you're going to have to invite me in!"
Sending him a disgusted look, she sprinted for the front porch with him on her heels.
"Remove your shoes." She ordered briskly.
"Yes ma'am." Shaking off the water that had managed to soak through his light jacket and sweater, he sat on the entrance bench and toed off his boots. Rising, he dragged fingers through his dense dark hair to scatter moisture before following her into the bright yellow and white kitchen.
Looking around curiously, he saw that she had herbs on the window sill and that the room smelled heavenly of cinnamon and spice. And she had a hearth. A small one that was burning peat and scenting the air along with the spices.
A table was tucked beneath the window, which looked out to a stream and a rickety bridge that had a certain charm to it. Flowers bloomed everywhere.
"This does not mean anything." She put the kettle on and hunted through a tin for biscuits to go with the tea.
"It means everything." He liked looking at her, he decided. He had forced himself to give her two days before making his move. Had wanted to convince himself that he was being ridiculous and acting out of character.
He was not hard up for female companionship of course.
He could get almost any woman he wanted and had enjoyed quite a few, both here in the states and Ireland where his parents had retired to.
They were always throwing women at him, determined to have him married and settled and giving them grandchildren.
It did not matter one bit that his sister was married and living in Kinsale with a man who had been her childhood sweetheart.
Or that Brianna had already popped out two children, one each.
They wanted grandchildren from him. He had often wondered if that was the reason he had avoided the marriage noose so effectively.
But now things had taken a turn. He had seen the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. His friends at the club would laugh and call him fanciful, but wasn't he part Irish?
He mused as he watched her pour the water over the pouch. As night follows day, he knew their destinies were intertwined. It was just for her to get behind it.
"I like the cottage." He murmured into the silence as he waited for the tea to seep.
"Now I can die happy."
He chuckled at her caustic tone.
"You're going to fall in love with me soon enough Kiara Landan and when you do, you'll regret the mean way you spoke to me."
She simply narrowed her wonderful eyes at him and turned to get some plates.
"The rain is not going to continue long. By the time it stops, I want you out of my house."
Stretching his legs out, he settled back to enjoy a nice visit.
"There's an Italian place just a few blocks from the pub..."
"No." She wanted to grind her teeth and stamp her feet in frustration. The man was an imbecile and a persistent one. She was done being amused.
"How about French?" he asked easily, lifting the cup to take a sip. "Or we could stop over at my place and I cook for you. I've been known to be pretty decent at grilling steaks. How does tonight sound to you?"
"Like you're delusional." She sent him an exasperated look. "Are you that hard up for a woman that you continue to pursue one who has no interest in you?"
Not by a flicker of expression did he give the slightest indication her words had wounded him.
"You make a decent cup of tea. Being half Irish, we tend to drink it strong, enough to knock you back.
" He smiled at her as she snarled. "Have I told you already how beautiful you are when you're angry?
" he eyed her warily as she hefted the cup in one hand, a dangerous look in her eyes.
"And if you toss that hot cup of tea in my face, you'll be scarring the father of your children. "
Biting off a scream, she slapped the cup on the saucer and moved towards the front door. He figured he had better leave before she caused physical damage.
"How about..." She slammed the door in his face, cutting off the rest of the words.
Grinning like an idiot, he rocked back on his heels and contemplated trying his luck by shoving it open when he heard the locks engaged. Shaking his head, he turned around and ran out into the rain.
Pausing in the act of opening the door, he turned to look at the window, in time to see the living room curtain twitching closed.
"Yep." He declared cheerfully as he hopped into the driver's seat. "She's interested."
Taking a peek out the window, she watched as his taillights disappeared, before leaning against the door and closing her eyes. Despite the annoyance and frustration at his temerity, she had to admit that the man had gotten under her skin.
"Father of my children, my ass." She muttered, a smile curving her lips. It did her ego good to have a man like that pursuing her. But that had to stop.
She sobered instantly, the old worry nagging at her. She had more than enough drama in her life to deal with. She certainly did not need any more from the likes of Oscar O'Sullivan.
Shaking her head, she went back to the kitchen to clean up.
He waited a few more days and went back for a visit. This time Kiara was ready for him. Seated on the porch, she was hammering at her laptop when the vehicle pulled up.
Shaking her head, she continued working, ignoring him when he strolled up the driveway, bearing a basket.
"I was doing some paperwork, when something told me that you had not had a decent meal." Placing the basket on the porch swing, he sat companionably next to her and started to take out the contents.
"I think I'm going to have to take out a TRO on you. I happen to have a very good lawyer."
"We have better ones." He told her cheerfully, pulling out cheeses, thin crackers, fat purple grapes and a bottle of Chianti. "So, how's it going?"
She laughed. It could not be helped. The man was incorrigible.
"Don't you have a business to run?"
"I do, yes. But I happen to have an excellent assistant as well as a business manager. He's a pain in the ass, but he's thorough," his quick grin came. "I'll get some glasses."
She watched him stroll inside and shook her head in resignation.