Mr. O'Grady's Magic Box (12 page)

Aubrey turned in her seat and looked at him.
Her gaze wavered over him and a lazy smile touched her lips.
What a beautiful smile she had.
The desire to kiss her
pulsed through his veins, but instead of acting on the urge, he
maneuvered the boat away from the landing.

When they'd first met in Ireland, they hit
it off right away—as if they'd known each other forever. On the
ride over to the Greenes, conversation never lagged. It was as if
time hadn't parted them. They were so much in harmony at times they
finished each others' sentences.

He loved the way her eyes lit up when she
talked about her life, and the way her mouth curved into a smile
when she was about to laugh.

They weren't far from the inn, but he was
reluctant to return. It would mean their time together would be
over. He slowed the boat to a stop, letting the waves coast
them.

Aubrey glanced at him, her brows
furrowing.

"I'm not ready to go back yet. Are you?"
God, he hoped she'd say no.

She smiled and shook her head. "No."

"Good. Wait here."

Her laughter followed him as he went down
below deck. "I'm not sure where you thought I'd take off to. Did
you forget we're surrounded by water?"

He came back up carrying a picnic basket. "I
didn't want you to have any ideas about taking a swim." He placed
the picnic basket down and sat beside her.

She met his gaze. "You sure came
prepared."

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug and gave
her a sheepish smile. "I took a chance you might want to enjoy the
day." He flipped the lid open revealing the treats. "Granddad's
homemade bread, cheese, and sliced apples for starters."

"Mmm. I'll have some apples." He offered her
the bag. "I want to thank you for arranging the meeting with the
Greenes for me." She bit into an apple slice.

"I hope it will help with your article."

"It will add a nice touch." She fished her
camera out of her purse and showed him the pictures she'd taken of
the Greenes. "They're a lovely couple, aren't they?" She sighed.
"So much in love."

"It almost makes you believe in magic."

"Yeah." Her lips curved as she looked at the
happy couple.

Aubrey confessed to placing a note in the
magic box, but she didn't elaborate. Ian wanted to ask her what she
had wished for, but a part of him feared her response. Besides, it
would be too much to hope for that she had thought of him.

He wiped his hands on his pants' leg and
stood. He made his way to where he left the photo album in the
storage unit beside the helm. He came back to sit by her and he
handed it to her.

"What's this?" Her gaze wavered over the
brown-striped photo album, worn with age.

"Take a look," he coaxed.

A boat flew by them and the occupant's
laughter hung in the air. Aubrey didn't seem to notice. Her fingers
gripped the end of the album and opened it to the first page. Her
gaze riveted to his in surprise. "I can't believe you still have
these."

He scooted closer to her now, so that he
could look at the photos along with her. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I thought—"

"That I'd discard what we had together as if
it never happened?" He watched her closely. "Is that what
you
did?"

"No, of course not." Her gaze shifted to the
album. She caressed one of the photos, the one with them standing
next to each other on the beach, his hand draped over her shoulder.
He was smiling down at her and she was looking up at him. "We look
so happy. This is Sligo, isn't it?"

"Yes. If I recall, I took pictures while you
recited Yeats."

She chuckled, her laughter light with
remembrance. "Not very well, as I recall." Her gaze found him again
and her hand moved to cover his. "I never forgot our time together.
It was special, wasn't it?" Yearning laced her words and her gaze
held his with meaning. She asked the question and it deserved a
direct answer.

He gently cupped her face with his hand
before he leaned forward. She closed her eyes as his mouth covered
hers in a slow, thoughtful kiss. Her scent curled through his
memory with the tempting sweetness of vanilla. He hadn't forgotten
how good she tasted either. Her lips were soft and willing. He
could taste the sea salt and the strawberry lip-gloss she wore. He
courted her senses with gentle persuasion and her hands clung to
his shoulders. He felt a ringing impulse of hope that she still
felt something for him, that it wasn't too late. She'd been but a
girl when he'd fallen in love with her. Now she was a woman, and he
found he could fall in love with her all over again.

Need hammered at his common sense,
threatening to take over, but he continued to ride the fine edge of
not enough and almost too much. He didn't want this to be a moment
of passion and nothing more. He wanted all of her or nothing, and
it had to be her decision. He lifted his mouth from hers. Her heavy
eyelashes fluttered just before she lifted them, revealing the heat
still evident in her gaze. He hadn't been the only one flustered by
the intensity of their kiss.

* * * * *

Aubrey took a deep breath, hoping to still
the hammering in her chest. She readjusted her hat before she
looked at him again with realization of what that kiss meant and
the memories it invoked. By the way Ian was looking at her now, the
passion had shattered them both.

I should have stopped him.
God,
what am I doing?
Fantasizing about being with Ian was one
thing, but she was dating someone back home and not free to have a
dalliance with Ian. She rubbed a hand over her face.
It's a
little late for you to remember the fact now. You kissed another
man.
But Ian wasn't just any man. She had loved him once, had
thought she'd marry him.

She stared at her hands, not sure she could
look at Ian without revealing how she felt about him. When Ian
kissed her, she couldn't think over the thudding of her heart. Her
body warmed under his regard, ached for his remembered touch, and
if he'd asked, she would have let him take her. Thank God, he had
broken the embrace before it had gone that far.

She glanced at Ian now, but wished she
hadn't. She felt the heat flood her face, burning her cheeks. Even
though Ian had pulled back, giving them both time to take a deep
breath, his gaze betrayed him, his eyes darkened with desire. He
wanted her too, but it wouldn't be right. She couldn't let her
feelings be swept away on memories. She needed to refocus. She was
here to write a story, not be seduced by an ex-lover.

He must have sensed her unease. He tore his
gaze away, drawing her attention back to the photo album, probably
desperate to distract her.

"Do you remember the time we had at the
Cliff's of Moher?"

She glanced at the picture of her standing
in front of Sir Cornelius O'Brien's Tower. Cornelius was the
descendant of Ireland's High King Brian Boru and had built the
tower to impress his female visitors. Her lips curved. "Hmm…the
impressive tower."

"Oh aye, all the lassies are impressed with
the size." Ian fell into a perfect Irish brogue.

She met his gaze and they both chuckled. The
intense physical awareness hadn't diminished, but for now, it was
enough to sit together while they went back and picked up the
strings of time.

Chapter Twenty-Two

People arrived early to secure their spot at
the Spring Enchantment. Ian and Reece had decorated the patio area
with flowers and garlands of stringed lights. In the fading
sunlight, they twinkled like stars, inviting the night to take
hold. Tables and chairs were set in a semi-circle around the
makeshift dance floor. Mr. O'Grady made meat pies for the main
course and delicious bite-size desserts for later. The DJ set up
his equipment at the far right, playing a large selection of tunes
for all ages.

She assumed only twenty-something aged women
would purchase a ticket to the Spring Enchantment, but it seemed
finding one's soul mate didn't have an age limit. Nor was it
prejudice of gender. There were at least fifty or more who showed
up; quite a few reserved their spot months in advance. Of those
fifty over a third of the people attending were men.

Aubrey mingled with the patrons, letting
them know she was writing a piece about the magic box for
publication. Most were eager to talk to her, hoping their story
would be featured in the magazine. It would be nice to witness
magic as it happened. Maybe she could do a follow-up story with the
lucky person who found her or his soul mate.

"You look lovely." Ian's voice strummed down
her back with tingling awareness. She chose a flowered skirt, white
blouse, and her rhinestone sandals. She wore her hair down in waves
of loose curls. Ian had been busy most of the night in the kitchen,
helping his grandfather, so she hadn't seen much of him today.

She turned to greet him, her gaze sliding
over him with appreciation. He did casual with class. His dark
T-shirt and slacks looked like they were tailored for him. His
Atlantic blue eyes caressed her, under the dark strands of hair
brushing his brow. His lips curved into a smile meant for her only.
"You look pretty darn good yourself."

"Thank you." He held out a hand to her. "How
about a dance?"

She glanced at the dance floor, to find
others had taken advantage of the music and the atmosphere of
dimmed lights. They weren't couples, but single men and women
hoping for a little romance in their life. Her assignment didn't
include fringe benefits and she shouldn't indulge. Her gaze met his
with a refusal on her lips, but Ian spoke first.

"One dance?" His one brow arched as if
contemplating why she would refuse him. "The night's still young
and the final event of the evening is yet to come." His lips curved
into the half smile she adored.

Her hand took hold of his, letting him lead
her out to the dance floor. The slow melody was meant for dancing
close and Ian took full advantage of the situation, pulling her
against him. She enjoyed the closeness of him a little too much,
relishing the way his long lean body pressed against hers as they
swayed with the music. Her breast tingled against the silky fabric
of her blouse. Her body ached to be touched by him despite her mind
protesting that it would be wrong to start something with him. She
put her arms around his neck anyway. His hand glided down her
spine, the caress suddenly unbearable in its tenderness; but she
ignored the mocking voice in her mind telling her to put distance
between them and enjoyed the moment. "When will your grandfather
bring out the magic box?"

"Soon. He gives the guests a chance to
mingle first."

"Dance, drink, be merry until the clock
strikes twelve and the magic is over."

"So cynical," he teased as he glided her
around the other couples.

"Not cynical. Practical. The enchantment
won't last. They're looking for the happily-ever-after, but it
doesn't come from wishing it. Relationships take work."

"They do, but you say it as if it's a chore
to hide from." She pulled back to look at him and he kissed the tip
of her nose. "Don't think so much, Aubrey. Just enjoy the moment.
Sometimes that's all you need. Memories are moments we can pull out
again and share with our loved ones." His eyes met hers and held,
making her heart step up a beat. Before she could respond, the song
came to an end and Ian let her go.

The DJ announced that in five minutes Mr.
O'Grady would draw the names one at a time and give each person a
chance to make a wish.

Ian led her to where Mr. O'Grady sat behind
the foldout table like a mystic waiting to tell a person his or her
fortune. The magic box with its wood-carved etches looked rustic
and worn, not a tool for granting wishes, but the congregation of
hopeful people wouldn't be deterred from their quest.

"There's quite a crowd." Which shouldn't
surprise her. There were dating services galore and chat rooms for
love. Why shouldn't there be a magic box to find one's soul mate?
"Won't the magic box become cluttered with requests?" she asked Mr.
O'Grady, wondering how he would manage to remove the notes without
anyone becoming suspicious.

Mr. O'Grady looked at her and spoke with
patience. "You still believe it's a parlor trick of some sort." He
sighed with a shake of his head. "The faeries take the notes.
There's no hidden compartment, no trick to uncover. If the faeries
decide to take the request into consideration, the note will not be
there when they open the box. You be knowing that first hand, aye?"
His one gray brow lifted ever so slightly.

She did a little brow-raising herself before
glancing at Ian. She should have known Ian wouldn't side with her.
His shoulders lifted in a noncommittal shrug.

"Would you like to draw the first name from
the bowl?" Mr. O'Grady offered.

"Sure, why not?" Her hand slipped into the
glass bowl, resembling a medium size mixing-bowl. She unfolded the
paper. "Chloe Martin." She called out.

"Squeeeee!" A slender, twenty-something
woman with dark, straight hair cried in delight as she ran to the
front. Everyone had a chance to make a wish. It wasn't like the
woman had just won the grand prize.

"Do you have your request ready?" Mr.
O'Grady asked her. Earlier in the evening those participating had
been given a paper and pen.

"Yes." She produced a folded up paper. "I'm
so glad I was first. The faeries won't be too tired."

Hence the screaming of delight, Aubrey
thought. Chloe was attractive with a bubbly personality. She would
think the woman wouldn't have any trouble finding someone, but here
she stood, hoping faeries would hear her pleas for
her
perfect man.

Mr. O'Grady handed the box and waited for
Chloe to make her wish. Finally, with a quick kiss to her demands,
she tossed the paper into the box and waited. Time ticked by
without a sound. It was like everyone on the patio held his or her
breath.