Read The Selkie Enchantress Online
Authors: Sophie Moss
The Selkie Enchantress
| The Selkie Enchantress |
| Seal Island Trilogy [2] |
| Sophie Moss |
| (2012) |
In this modern-day fairy tale romance, Irish islander, Caitlin Conner, has been in love with professor of Irish folklore, Liam O'Sullivan, for as long as she can remember. But just when he's starting to look at her as more than a friend, a mysterious woman arrives on Seal Island and captures his heart. As Caitlin discovers the truth behind the woman's lies, she realizes Liam is trapped in a dangerous enchantment and the only way to break the spell is to uncover a secret Irish fairy tale that has remained hidden for hundreds of years. But when the petals of a white rose grown in winter start to fall, the legend is set in motion. And Caitlin must find a way to change the ending before the last petal falls.
The Selkie Enchantress
By Sophie Moss
Copyright 2012 Sophie Moss
For my mom
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my mom and dad for sharing your love of stories, for reading me my first fairy tale, and teaching me about magic. Thank you to my big brother for believing in me and supporting my dreams. Thank you to my earliest readers: Danielle Mulcahy-for your friendship, pep talks, and positive spirit. Diane J. Reed-I’m so blessed to have met you this year. And Margot Miller-for your incredible attention to detail.
apter 1
Caitlin Conner tapped her scarlet high heel. She imagined ripping it off and tossing it in Liam O’Sullivan’s ridiculously handsome face the moment he walked through her door. Maybe it would knock some sense into that thick head of his—the one he always had stuck in the clouds.
Sure, there were times she admired his penchant for daydreaming. But
this
was not one of them. If he didn’t walk through that door in about three seconds, she was personally going to see that he suffered. She let the shiny heel dangle, catching the strap between her toes. She had good aim, too.
Candles flickered, wax dripping down their golden stems. Steam rose from an herb-crusted roast cooling in the center of the table. She poked at a glazed carrot threatening to spill over the edge. Liam wouldn’t be the first to become a target for her temper. And that fire simmering under the surface was starting to boil.
She tugged at the neckline of her sweater dress. She’d worn a dress—a
dress
for Christ’s sake. She hadn’t worn a dress since Tara and Dominic’s wedding three months ago. And, oh, how Liam had liked that dress! Her lips curved. She could still picture the look on his face when she’d walked up the hill wearing the black dress Glenna had brought her from Paris. She was looking forward to having that same effect on him tonight.
And letting him feed her chocolate covered strawberries in bed.
But if he didn’t get his fine Irish backside over here, he wasn’t getting anywhere near her hand-dipped strawberries. Or her bed. Her smile faded as she glanced up at the clock. Oh, he was going to suffer alright. There was no way she was letting him off the hook for this.
***
Footsteps echoed on the deck of the passenger ferry. Alone at the bow, Liam O’Sullivan turned as a woman stepped out of the cabin and ducked her head against the frigid November winds. Wrapped in one of the captain’s heavy wool blankets, she picked her way across the thick coiled ropes and storage crates. She rested her arms on the peeling paint of the railing to take in the view beside him.
The woman and her son were the only other passengers on the ferry tonight. Liam hadn’t given them much more than a passing glance when they ducked into the warmth of the cabin an hour earlier. He preferred to ride up on the deck, no matter how cold, and watch the ocean stretch out until the first twinkling lights of the island came into view.
Home
. He’d spent the last nine years in Galway working at the University, but he’d never considered the vibrant coastal city his home. He favored the solitude of the island. His family and closest friends still lived there, and part of him—a large part—wanted to move back someday. Glancing down at the bouquet of roses tucked into the crook of his arm, he wondered what Caitlin’s reaction would be when he told her that tonight. That he’d spent the last few months lobbying for a full-time research position at the University so he could move back to the island at the end of this term.
He smiled, lifting his gaze from the flowers to the ocean. The mists were thick tonight; the air cold and wet. Seawater lapped against the hull of the ferry, splashing up over the deck smelling of salt and kelp. “Not much to see this time of night,” he commented to the stranger beside him.
“I just needed some air.”
The woman’s rich, lilting voice had him gazing at her profile. The hair that peeked out of her hood was moonlight blond and waterfall straight. High cheekbones framed fair, delicate features and thick lashes curled out from eyes that stayed fixed on the churning surface of the water.
“I heard talk of snow on the mainland tonight.” Liam nodded to the thick clouds blotting out the moon and stars. “Won’t get any of that on the island. But it’s not the best time for a visit, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t mind the cold.”
Liam glanced back at the woman curiously. They didn’t get many tourists this time of year. Even the most adventurous travelers preferred the cozy villages along the coast rather than suffer the hour-long ride to the island. “What brings you to the island?”
The ancient motor hummed as they cut a slow path toward the faint outline of rocks in the distance. “I needed a few days away from the city. For myself, and my son.”
“Galway?”
“Limerick.”
Liam nodded. “I try to get away from the city as much as I can.”
The wind whipped over the bow and the woman huddled deeper under her cloak. “It wears at you, doesn’t it?”
Liam took in the slight downward curve of the woman’s mouth, the sad eyes staring down into the water. “It does. I’m lucky I have the island to escape to.”
Pulling her gaze from the water for the first time, she looked up at him. “Do you have a home on the island?”
Liam nodded, noting how pale her eyes were, almost like glass. He’d never seen eyes quite like that before. “I grew up there. My brother and grandmother still live there.”
She motioned to the flowers Liam held. “Are the roses for your grandmother?”
“No.” Liam shook his head, smiling. “The roses are for the woman I’m having dinner with tonight.”
“They’re beautiful.” She gazed back at the water, her tone turning wistful. “She’ll love them.”
Studying the traveler more closely, Liam saw that she wasn’t wearing a wedding band. Surely, she didn’t have any trouble finding men to buy her flowers. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d bought a woman flowers. This wasn’t exactly normal for him. Glancing back down at the roses, he frowned. “That’s strange.”
The woman’s gaze flickered back up to Liam’s. “What?”
Liam pulled the bouquet from the crook of his arm and stared down at the velvety flowers. “Where did this white rose come from?”
She turned, her violet skirt rustling with the rhythm of the waves. “It wasn’t there before?”
Liam shook his head slowly.
The woman’s gaze locked on the single white rose sparkling in the center of the fragrant bouquet. “Maybe you overlooked it.”
“Maybe,” Liam murmured. “But I could have sworn they were all yellow.”
***
Twenty minutes was one thing, but thirty? Pushing to her feet, Caitlin blew out the candles. Ignoring the little bits of wax that splattered onto the tablecloth, she crossed the room to the telephone. Something must have happened. There was no way Liam had purposely ditched out on their date. They’d been planning it for weeks!
She started to punch in the numbers for the pub and then stopped. What if Dominic answered the phone? What was she supposed to say?
‘Hey, Dom, I thought your brother was coming over to my place for dinner, but he never showed. You haven’t seen him have you?’
She shoved the phone back into the cradle. She hadn’t even talked to Dom about this whole,
dating-Liam
thing.
Now
that
was going to be a fun conversation. Marching across the room, she grabbed her wool sweater off the hook and slipped her arms into the sleeves. Bracing herself against the cold, she pulled open the door. A thick fog swirled through the dark street and the scent of the sea rushed into the room. With one last fleeting glance at the romantic table for two, Caitlin lifted her eyes to the ceiling.
God help me, Liam O’Sullivan. If I find out you flaked on our first date, I will never forgive you!
***
Icy winds stung Nuala Morrigan’s face as she peered up at the man standing beside her at the bow of the ferry. He was taller than she’d expected—tall and lanky with a thick shock of black hair and sharp, lighting-blue eyes. He wore rectangular, wire-rim glasses and one shoulder hung slightly lower than the other, adding a studious vulnerability and boyish charm to his otherwise strikingly handsome features.
“Would you mind if I…?” She gestured to the bouquet.
“Oh,” Liam stammered, his troubled gaze following the white rose as he handed her the flowers. “Of course.” The tissue paper rustled in the wind. “I guess I missed it when the florist snuck the white one in with the rest.”
“Long week?”
“Busy.” Liam dipped his hands in his pockets. “But that’s nothing new.”
No. It wasn’t. Nuala held the flowers up to her face, closing her eyes as she inhaled the sweet, intoxicating scent. She knew he stayed up until all hours of the night writing. She’d seen the lights burning in the windows of his apartment along the River Corrib long after the rest of the city fell asleep. She lowered the flowers, gazing back up at his attractive profile. “What do you do on the mainland?”
