The Mystic Cove Series Boxed Set (Wild Irish Books 5-7)

by Tricia O'Malley

  “I paid for it out of my pocket,” she said stiffly.

  “And why is that?” Sean’s voice was low, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up.

  “Because I’ve looked at those same books and I know you can’t afford a bonus right now, seeing as you're coming out of a financially precarious time.”

  Sean sighed and looked up at the ceiling, clearly counting to ten.

  “If you want to give an employee a bonus, please come to me,” he said stiffly.

  “But Sean, I know you can’t afford it. I can. And I wanted to do this. She deserves it,” Margaret pleaded her case.

  “Yes, I know you can afford it,” Sean exploded, standing up and pacing her office. Margaret drew back, clamping her mouth shut as she watched him pace. “I understand that you're rich. That your business was so damn successful, and mine isn’t. I get it. But you don’t need to wave it around in my face.”

  Sean slammed the door as he stormed out of the office, blinds banging against her window.

  “Well, I never!” Margaret fumed. “Ungrateful man! After all I’ve done to help.”

  Her intercom buzzed.

  “Everything okay?” Susan asked.

  “I have no idea,” Margaret answered honestly. “I suppose I'll have to find out. See you at the meeting.”

  Getting up, Margaret smoothed her jeans and straightened her blouse. She’d learned quickly that Sean’s business was not one that required suits and heels. Especially if she didn’t want her Prada smelling like fish. A few days in, she’d switched to wearing jeans and a nice blouse to work.

  Margaret tapped tentatively on Sean’s door. When there was no response, she peeked her head in to find his office empty.

  “Out by the water,” David called helpfully and Margaret smiled her thanks. “I think you’d better let him take you on a date soon,” he added.

  Margaret stopped and tilted her head at him in question. “Excuse me?”

  David smiled and pushed his cap up, jerking his thumb towards the field outside.

  “The bossman. He’s been mooning after you ever since you left. It hasn’t gotten better since you’ve gotten back, either. You’d better take pity on him soon before he blows a gasket,” he offered cheerfully.

  Margaret supposed that, since she gave David dating advice, she couldn’t exactly reject his opinion.

  “Thanks, I’ll take that under consideration,” Margaret said dryly as she moved past him and out towards the picnic table.

  “Go get ‘em, boss!” David called cheerfully and Margaret waved over her shoulder, half amused and half annoyed that her private life was on display.

  Stalking across the grass, she found Sean sitting at the picnic table where she had last sat when she’d not wanted to go back into the warehouse and deal with Adeline. Squaring her shoulders, Margaret came to stand over him so her shadow blocked the sun.

  “Do you have a problem with me?” she asked, ready for battle.

  “Maybe I do,” Sean said, looking past her, out toward the water.

  “I refuse to apologize for being a successful businesswoman,” Margaret said, her voice cracking. “I worked really hard for that. I would think you – of anyone – would understand that.”

  Sean sighed and shook his head. Turning, he patted the bench next to him.

  “Sit, please.”

  Margaret sat, her arms crossed and back straight.

  “I’m sorry. I know you worked really hard and were wonderfully successful in your business. I guess it’s just a little...emasculating to have you come in and clean up the mess I’ve made of things,” Sean admitted sheepishly.

  Margaret felt her heart immediately softening.

  “Sean, I’m really impressed by what you’ve built up. You have a quality operation with long-term employees who care about you, and you run wonderful tours. I am in awe of what you’ve done. It’s not your fault things fell apart. You trusted an employee who screwed you over. I’ve had to fire employees before and deal with difficult times in my business. Things didn’t always run smoothly for me either. That isn’t a reflection on you. That’s just business. Problems come up. You fix them. That’s all.”

  Sean surprised her by reaching out and running a finger down her cheek.

  “It’s not just you coming in to fix everything,” he admitted softly.

  “It isn’t?” Margaret said, finding herself breathing a little faster as she met his eyes.

  “No, it’s you. You’re driving me crazy!”

  “I am?” Margaret asked, her heart clenching a bit.

  “Yes!” Sean shouted, shoving away from the picnic table to pace in front of her. A lot of yelling and pacing this man was doing this morning, Margaret thought as she watched him carefully.

  “You just come back here, clean everything up in my life, looking gloriously beautiful while you do so. And I’m left drooling after you every day. Making excuses to stop in your office. Keeping my blinds open so I can catch a peek of you zipping around the warehouse. Wanting to punch David and Matthew and everyone else as you laugh and joke with them every day. I want to laugh and joke with you,” Sean steamed.

  “You can laugh and joke with me,” Margaret ventured.

  “I can’t! You were the one who put up the 'no flirting with the boss' rule. You’ve swept back into my life, but you keep me at a distance with a ten-foot pole,” Sean shouted.

  Margaret glanced over her shoulder to make sure there wasn’t anyone nearby.

  “I’m not keeping you at a distance,” she began.

  “Bullshit,” Sean said, bending over and bracing his arms so that Margaret sat caged between them. Her pulse picked up and she found herself unconsciously wetting her lips.

  “I am just really trying to work hard and help you. You looked so lost when I came back, like you were fading away,” Margaret whispered.

  “I was fading away. Without you. Not because of the business. Why can’t you see that?” Sean begged, and Margaret’s heart all but skipped a beat.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Really. I swear, I’ve been a lovesick puppy with you gone. Half the reason I’ve let business go is because I’ve been obsessed with finding out how you're doing, if you'll come back, what gift to get you. And you kept sending back these politely worded thank-you notes. I wanted to throttle you!”

  Margaret gulped.

  “I didn’t really know what to do. How to respond. I thought that I was being kind.”

  “Margaret, if you don’t want to be with me, then let me down easily. I can’t deal with this hot and cold act. I’m too old for these games.”

  Margaret stilled. Had she really been playing a game? Was she forcing Sean to prove his love to her?

  “I didn’t think about it like that. I’m sorry, truly. I was just as messed up as you were, if that's any consolation,” Margaret admitted.

  “Don’t you think I could see that when you walked in? Your clothes all but hanging off of you? Why do you think I'm trying to force-feed you lunch every day?” Sean asked.

  Margaret huffed out a laugh.

  “Lord, we are quite the pair, aren’t we?”

  Sean leaned closer, his lips hovering inches from hers.

  “Will you come to dinner tonight? I can take you out or have you over. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you to come over,” Sean said.

  Margaret felt her stomach clench at the thought of going back to Sean’s house – to what they’d left unfinished on the couch. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that emotional rollercoaster quite yet.

  “Baron misses you,” Sean said, further twisting the knife in her gut. Margaret pursed her lips.

  “You can pick me up at my hotel and take me to a nice dinner, like I deserve,” Margaret ordered.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sean said as he brushed his lips across hers in the softest of kisses. “Now get back to work.”

  Margaret found herself laughing the whole way back into the warehouse, feelin
g lighter after their talk.

  “'Bout time you put a smile on that man’s face,” David called from across the warehouse.

  “Get back to work,” Margaret shouted back.

  But she couldn’t quite wipe the grin off her own face.

  Chapter 52

  Margaret couldn’t quite calm her nerves as she paced her hotel suite, glancing at the nightstand clock repeatedly as she smoothed her dress. It was one of her favorites, a Diane von Furstenburg in a navy print with bold red flowers splashed across the fabric. It made her feel flirty and feminine. Checking her hair again in the mirror, she pondered whether the curls were too much and if she should pull it back from her face. Raising a nervous hand to her hair, she laughed at herself.

  “It’s not like this is your first time going on a date,” Margaret said out loud. Sean had pushed her out of work early, with strict instructions that she meet him in the lobby no later than 7:30. Which meant she had another twenty minutes to kill. Groaning, Margaret contemplated calling Keelin to kill the time when a knock at her door made her jump.

  “Coming,” she called, wondering who it was. Peeking through the peephole, Margaret didn’t see anyone. Curious, she opened the door a crack and poked her head out.

  “Hello?”

  And shrieked as a furry animal streaked past her. Whirling around, she brought her hand to her chest and laughed out loud.

  “Baron!”

  The dog wiggled at her feet, a rose in his mouth, a plaid bowtie on his neck. Leaning down, Margaret laughed and pulled the rose from his mouth, stroking the eager dog’s fur. As soon as she touched him, Baron rolled on his back, his paws in the air, the bowtie at his neck making him look like a little gentleman.

  “Oh, aren’t you the charming one,” Margaret gushed, scratching Baron’s belly as he wiggled in delight on the floor.

  “Ahem, might I come in?” a voice from behind the door asked. Margaret jumped up, laughing at herself. Of course Baron hadn’t come to her hotel on his own.

  Smoothing her dress again, she pulled the door all the way open, holding the rose in one hand.

  Sean stood outside, with at least two dozen roses tucked in his arm, wearing a three piece tuxedo and black wool newsboy cap. Margaret gaped at him, then looked down at her dress.

  “I’m not dressed for black tie,” she said immediately.

  “You look beautiful. You’re perfect,” Sean said, stepping forward to plant a chaste kiss on Margaret’s cheek. “Flowers for you.”

  “Thank you,” Margaret looked around for something to put the blooms in. “I need a vase. Let me call the front desk.”

  “I have it taken care of,” Sean said simply and opened the door. “We’re ready.”

  Margaret gasped as a line of men trailed into the room. One whisked the flowers from her hand and placed them into a crystal vase, setting them on the sideboard. Another took a table into the separate sitting area, proceeding to unfold the table and pull linens out of a box. More men poured into the room, and Margaret stepped back, scooping up Baron to keep him from getting trampled. In moments, her sitting room had been transformed into a five-star restaurant, complete with candles all over the room, even more flowers, and a violinist setting up in the corner. Margaret blinked as the next wave of suited men entered the room, proceeding to set up a different sideboard with covered dishes, complete with a chef standing behind a small portable stove with a chef’s hat perched jauntily on his head.

  A man in a suit with a crisply pressed white linen napkin draped over his arm approached Margaret.

  “Dinner is ready, Madam,” he said, bowing slightly with the words. Margaret raised an eyebrow.

  “Thank you,” she said politely, shooting a glance at Sean as he ushered her to her seat. Margaret laughed as she saw that a third stool, with a little dog bed for Baron on it, had been pulled to the table, allowing the pup to sit with them. A new bone was placed neatly in the pillow on the bed.

  “You didn’t miss a trick,” Margaret murmured, shooting a smile at Sean.

  Bending, she placed Baron in his bed. He immediately sniffed at the bone, then happily began to gnaw at one corner.

  “My lady,” Sean said, pulling the chair out and waiting until Margaret sat before laying a napkin over her lap. Margaret caught herself almost giggling with excitement as the violinist struck up a soft melody in the corner by the windows. The setting summer sun cast a warm glow across the room, and Margaret swallowed against the lump in her throat.

  Sean settled in across from her and nodded to the waiter.

  “The first course is a cilantro shallot mussels dish, sourced from Grace’s Cove,” the waiter announced, pulling a covered dish from the chef’s table and settling it into the middle of their table.

  “From Grace’s Cove?” Margaret asked, raising her eyebrow at Sean.

  “Yes. Nothing but the best for you,” Sean said simply, smiling at her over the steaming mussels.

  “These look fabulous,” Margaret agreed, feeling a rush of excitement as she and Sean began to eat, chatting lightly about work and other subjects. The waiter topped off her wine every time she took a sip, leaving Margaret feeling a bit lightheaded from the wine – and from being swept off her feet.

  “The main course is lobster from Grace’s Cove, served with a warm butter sauce, and roasted potatoes,” the waiter announced. Margaret looked at Sean again.

  “Flynn’s lobster?” Flynn’s lobsters, caught from Grace’s Cove, were legendary across Ireland; the waiting list to order any was six months long.

  “I put in for a favor,” Sean said.

  “I’m beginning to feel that there is a theme to this dinner,” Margaret murmured as the waiter pulled a silver lid from her plate with a flourish. Her mouth watered just looking at the lobster presented so beautifully for her.

  “Grace’s Cove was the pivotal point in our lives. I don’t want to push that away or hide it. It’s as much a part of the fabric of what we are as our children are,” Sean said. Margaret blushed, feeling uncomfortable discussing such personal matters with the waiters hovering over them.

  “I agree,” she said softly, glancing up at the waiter.

  “I have more to say…with dessert,” Sean said, understanding what Margaret was saying with her glance at the waiter. “In the meantime, I’d like to tell you how happy I am with the website design.”

  Happy that they were back on neutral topics, Margaret devoured the best lobster she’d ever had while talking about work. She found it enjoyable to be able to speak freely about their shared goals in the business. She wondered if this was how married people felt when they came home from work and had someone to talk to about their day. It was a nice change of pace, she thought.

  “And, for dessert, we have a molten chocolate cake with raspberry gelato on the side.”

  Margaret laughed as she leaned back and put her hand on her stomach.

  “I don’t know if I can eat all that.”

  “There is just one dessert, for both of you to share,” the waiter said and Margaret felt a little trill of lust run through her at the thought of sharing a dessert with Sean.

  “One moment,” Sean said, standing and nodding at the violinist in the corner. Margaret watched as all of the staff packed up and Sean thanked each of them individually with an envelope that she presumed had a tip in it. In moments, the room had emptied and it was just her, Sean, and Baron. Nerves kicked up her spine.

  Sean settled back in his chair, his eyes heavy with meaning as he watched her across the table. Candlelight flickered over his face.

  “Try a bite,” Sean said, picking up a spoon and slicing a piece of the moist cake. Margaret opened her mouth as he spoon-fed her across the table. She moaned as the delicious cake melted in her mouth. Licking her lips, Margaret smiled at him. Being here with him felt right.

  “This is amazing. Truly. Thank you for all of this.”

  “I’m so glad you like it,” Sean said. He looked down at Baron. “Baron, it’s tim
e.”

  The dog jumped to alert, cocking his head at Sean.

  “Go get the bag,” Sean ordered and Margaret laughed as Baron jumped down from the bed and trotted across the room to a corner where a small black bag now sat on the floor. Margaret wondered when it had appeared, as she’d certainly not seen it earlier. The dog maneuvered his teeth around the bag's handles and trotted back over to Sean with his head held high to keep the bag from dragging along the carpet.

  “Not to me. To her,” Sean said, pointing at Margaret. Baron dutifully turned to Margaret, depositing the bag at the foot of her chair. Margaret laughed and leaned over to pet Baron.

  “He’s so smart,” she observed.

  “Open the bag,” Sean said.

  Margaret felt her stomach flip-flop as she reached into the bag and pulled out a black velvet jewelry box. Her mouth went dry as she ran her hand over the square box.

  “Sean,” she began.

  Sean stood and moved to turn her chair, then knelt at her feet.

  “Just open it,” he whispered, the plea mirrored in his eyes.

  Margaret gulped and nodded, easing the lid of the box open with shaky hands. She gasped at the ring that lay nestled in the white silk fabric.

  It was blue. A stunning sea blue, the exact shade of blue that shone through the waters when the cove glowed with its legendary light. The stone had to be at least two carats, and was surrounded by a circle of icy white diamonds on a hammered gold band. Margaret’s heart clenched and tears blinked into her eyes as she looked up from the box at Sean.

  “I’m asking you to marry me, Margaret. I’ve loved you for my whole life. These past six months have been the worst time of my life. Having you again and losing you so quickly tore me apart. I know we haven’t figured it all out, I know we have a troubled past. I’m asking you to take a chance on me. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering what if or worrying that you’ll run away at the slightest argument. You’re it for me. You always have been. I love you, Margaret O’Brien. Will you be my wife and make an honest pup out of Baron?”