Wild Irish Rose

by Ava Miles

  He shrugged. God knew he needed one, and he had time before he was due to meet Becca for their walk. He rather hoped he’d find her in the old kitchen with her dyeing baths.

  “I’ll ask Hargreaves to bring some in for us,” Aunt Clara said, pulling out her phone and texting her butler. Trevor wouldn’t ask how he’d get the glasses… Or the olives. Probably had them stocked in the mini-bar in his room.

  “They have people downstairs for that, my dear,” Uncle Arthur said.

  “Hargreaves likes to make them for me,” she said. “Us. Now what can we do to help? You mentioned J.T. is working with you. That’s good. He’s one smart cookie.”

  But he couldn’t summon the perfect property out of thin air, as it were. “No, you and Uncle Arthur should just enjoy yourselves. I’ll figure this out. It’s my mess.”

  “If you need me to talk to Connor—”

  “Good God, no,” he said, holding up his hands. Aunt Clara would only put his back up more.

  “Oh, don’t get your panties in a wad, like your uncle here would say. I’m only saying that you have allies if you need them. Right, Arthur?”

  “Right,” his uncle said. “Now let’s talk about Becca. You’re sure she understands your position? She’s in love with you, you know.”

  The very words seemed to lighten the air. “I’m in love with her too.”

  “Good,” his uncle said, and Aunt Clara clapped, adding, “Bravo, boy.”

  He was oddly touched by their approval. “Trust me, I’m doing everything I can to protect her and this land she loves so much.”

  He begged off an hour later, postponing his call to J.T., and went off to look for Becca. There was no sign of her in any of the usual places, so he stopped to ask one of the staff if they’d seen her. They hadn’t, which seemed strange. He pulled out his phone to call her, only to realize he didn’t have her number. In fact, now that he thought about it, he’d never seen her with a phone. She was always around, talking to people in person. Giving her staff orders verbally rather than texting them.

  He finally caught Aileen coming out of the kitchen. She moved her mouth like she’d just tasted something unpleasant. Well, he would handle that situation after he found Becca. He needed to set things straight with her right away.

  “Aileen, I’m trying to find Becca,” he said, stepping in front of her lest she try ignore him. “We were supposed to take a walk.”

  The woman stopped short, and shock rolled over her face. “A walk?”

  Why did she sound so surprised? Perhaps Becca never took a break. He’d noticed she was always working, and he respected that. “Yes.”

  She looked down, fingering her hem, and was silent. In fact, she looked on the verge of tears. He didn’t know what to do. Was she like this because they’d figured out why the Merriams wanted the property?

  “I was so mad at you,” Aileen said, “when Cian figured out why you wanted to buy our land. You want it for oil, don’t you?”

  He couldn’t deny it. “I’ll tell you what I can later, but I need to talk to Becca first. Please, Aileen.”

  Her silence made his chest tight. He stood there, helpless.

  “She’s in her chambers, stewing,” she said finally. “Come with me. Normally, I wouldn’t interfere like this, but if Becca was willing to take a walk with you before this happened, it’s simply got to be done.”

  He’d never imagined a walk would be so monumental. “Thank you, Aileen. After I talk to Becca, I’d like to explain to you and Cian, if that’s all right with Becca.”

  “Cian might still take a swing at you,” she said. “I sent him off to the pub to cool off.”

  Trevor’s knees grew weak. “He won’t tell anyone in town, will he?”

  It would be a PR disaster if news got out before they had a solid plan for moving forward.

  Aileen drew up short and drilled her finger into his chest. “Don’t be insulting my man. Even if Becca hadn’t told us to keep our speculations private, he would have done so. He might want to take a punch at you, but he wouldn’t put your aunt and uncle in an uncomfortable position in town.”

  Trevor hadn’t thought about that. “I remember how it was when I first arrived.”

  “Day-old scones and no cleaning service would seem like a blessing compared to the ire of people in town. This is sacred land, Trevor Merriam, and you’d be wise to remember that.”

  “I know that, Aileen,” he said, putting his hand on her arm. “I’ve fallen in love with this place as much as I have with Becca.” It seemed right to tell her.

  Tears sprang into her eyes, and he almost winced.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said, rubbing her shoulder.

  She sniffed and wiped her face with her sleeve. “They’re my tears, not yours. If I had a moment, I’d dash off to church and light a candle of thanksgiving. It’s a grand thing, you being in love with Becca, Trevor. Cian and I have prayed for such a thing, but we’d lost… Never mind.”

  He didn’t understand all she was telling him, but he was deeply moved. The old couple clearly cared for Becca like she was their own daughter.

  “Come,” she said, increasing her speed as she ushered him toward Becca’s chamber door. “She won’t like it, but if she takes me to task later, I’ll tell her what was on my mind when I did it.”

  She opened the tower door and turned to look at him. Her gaze was direct, and he felt like a third grader being assessed by his teacher.

  “I like you, Trevor Merriam. I have ever since Buttercup began to follow you around like a lovesick mule and Becca’s animals started stealing your clothes. But if you hurt my Becca, I’ll take Chef Padraig’s cleaver to your private parts. Understand me?”

  No one had ever threatened him with a cleaver before, and his balls shrunk. “I understand.”

  She patted him much like Aunt Clara had, a touch laced with affection and threat. “Then go up and explain yourself.”

  The door shut behind him, and he heard a soft bark. Looking up to the top of the stairs, he saw Becca sitting on the sofa with Boru by her side.

  “I can explain,” he said, his gaze searching her shuttered face.

  “Don’t bother.”

  Chapter 18

  Becca wasn’t surprised to hear Trevor stomping up the stairs. If he’d simply walked away, he wouldn’t have been the man she knew him to be. Although maybe she didn’t know him at all. She’d thought he saw the beauty in this place, just as she did, but he and his brother wanted to destroy it.

  How did they plan to do it, anyway? Drilling on land was against Irish law. Did that mean they intended to achieve their ends through corruption? She didn’t like that one bit. Even worse, how had they discovered oil on her land? Had they sneaked onto it in the dead of night and run tests? None of that sat well with her.

  Her sanctuary had been violated in the worst way possible.

  He came around the sofa and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re really going to tell me to feck off after what we’ve been to each other these past couple of days?”

  He didn’t often use Irish words, and it shook her that he should do so now. “Yes, I am. Feck off, you gobshite.”

  His mouth twisted. “I deserve that. Will you hear me out?”

  Boru came around the sofa, Trevor’s pants in his mouth. Hatshep followed in close order with his shirt. They both laid the clothes they’d taken the other night at his feet and then plopped down in front of Becca, furry sentries if she’d ever seen them.

  “My animals don’t seem to want to keep you here any longer,” she said, edging back against the cushions, hoping it would give her some space.

  He shook his head. “I’d hate to think of what Buttercup would do to me. Becca O’Neill, you’re going to listen to me if I have to talk until I’m blue in the face.”

  She shot up off the sofa. “Save it.”

  “No,” he said, standing his ground.

  “I’m done talking to you.” She hated the way h
er voice broke. “I want you to leave here and never come back. I’m not listening to your offer. Ever! I don’t care what I told you.”

  “I don’t care about that anymore.” When she tried to go around him, he caught her arm. “I love you, dammit! Doesn’t that rank a conversation?”

  He loved her? It couldn’t be. Not if he intended to destroy her land for oil. “Please don’t say things like that.”

  “I love you,” he repeated, softening his tone.

  She lifted her gaze to him, and he reached out and tentatively caressed her cheek. The gentle, familiar touch pinged her bruised heart. She wanted to believe him. He seemed to sense it because he stroked her skin before letting his hand fall away.

  “I wouldn’t say that unless I meant it. I’ve never said it to a woman before.”

  Oddly, that admission moved her. Hadn’t she thought she loved him too? That was one reason why she’d been so injured by the news of what the Merriams planned to do. “Succinct, if you please.” She sat back down, prepared to listen, but there was no way she was going to make it easy for him.

  “Can I sit down?” he asked.

  She gestured with a hand, and Boru let out a bark. “It’s okay, boy.”

  Trevor took his place next to her, but he didn’t crowd her, thankfully. “I’m sorry you’re so upset, and I totally understand why.”

  She turned to him. “Do you? Answer me this. Did you make an offer for my land because of oil?”

  He nodded. “But that’s—”

  “Then you understand nothing,” she said, anger flushing her face. “You might live in Dublin, but you’re not Irish. There is no way I would ever let anyone drill for oil on Ireland proper and destroy the beauty of our green hills. And the fact that you want to do that on my land… This is my home, my sanctuary, if that’s not too fanciful for you. How did you even find oil? Did you send people out here without my permission?”

  “No,” he said, his voice laced with urgency. “We use geophysical imaging technologies. Honestly, it wasn’t difficult. We’d bought an offshore oil tract connected directly to your land. Our data showed a line of oil stretching from out there to here. Becca, you’re sitting on a whole bunch of crude oil.”

  The thought terrified her. Was the government thinking about changing the law? Surely his words suggested it. Would there be a long line of tough-as-nails businessmen lining up at her door, taking numbers like they did at the butcher? God help her. “Like I care about that. If I’d known your intentions from the beginning, I would never have let you stay here, even if your aunt and uncle are the kindest, dearest people. How could you use them like that?”

  He sighed deeply. “I was wrong to do it, and I’ve apologized to them. Look, Connor sent me to complete a task after you turned him down. My job is to make deals, any way I know how, legally. My aunt and uncle just happened to want to visit me. I knew I was skating the line bringing them here, but I didn’t think anyone would get hurt.”

  And yet she had been hurt. Deeply. If he could use his own flesh and blood, how could she trust him? Trevor had a job to do, and he apparently wasn’t above using people to do it. “I don’t like this side of you.”

  He put his hand on her knee, and she moved it off. “I can understand that. Sometimes I don’t like it either, but I work in places around the world that call for tough action. Right now, I’m skating a line for you. Because I love you.”

  Did he have to say those words again? “I don’t want you to skate any lines for me. I only wanted you to be honest, but it would seem that’s impossible given your task here. I don’t think we should have any more personal interaction. In fact, I want you to leave. Today. You are no longer welcome at The Wild Irish Rose.” She wanted to cry. She’d never kicked a guest out, and it broke her heart that her first one would be him.

  She stood and walked to the window, unable to bear being this close to him. Looking out at the sea usually comforted her, but for the first time she was afraid of it and all it contained. Oil brought ruin to places. It had been one of the causes of the civil war in Angola—the bloody, awful, brutal war that had ultimately claimed her parents as two of its victims. Oil brought troubles, and she wanted no part of it. And yet, how was she to stop it? Even if she blocked them from drilling on her land, they’d be out there, mucking up the sea. When he came up beside her, she thought about running for her room and locking him out, but it seemed cowardly.

  “You might not like me skating the line, but I’m still doing it. Becca, I give you my word that I no longer plan to persuade you to sell us your land.”

  His voice was thick with emotion, and even Boru gave a whine behind them. “You just said it’s your job and you always get your way. Why would you back off now?”

  He turned her to look at him, his eyes blazing with emotion. “Because I love you, that’s why. Would I rip out your very soul?”

  Her tears welled up like a spring after a rain, and she pursed her lip to contain herself. No one had ever said such a thing to her before. It spoke to his knowledge of her. They’d only known each other a matter of days, and yet he saw her. “You sound like an Irishman.”

  “I sound like a man who’s close to begging, and I don’t like it.” He dropped her arms. “Becca, I love you and everything about this place. I’m going against my duty as an officer of the company my family owns in a way I’d never imagined, and yet I know it’s the right thing to do. Dammit, I don’t want this to wreck what we’re building together. Please, don’t let it.”

  Her heart was an aching, pulsing mess in her chest. God, she didn’t want things to be done between them either. If he loved her like he said, there had to be something here. “I want to trust you.”

  “When I give my word, I mean it.” He took her hand and laid it over his heart. “I love you. I love this land of yours and everything on it, and I’m even starting to see the humor in your crazy alpaca chasing me around. I didn’t expect to say this so soon, but when I make a decision, I’m all in. I thought I might stay here with you, in time, if you’ll have me.”

  Stay with her? “What are you saying?”

  He cupped her cheeks with his hands, gazing into her eyes. “It means I think I’ve found the person I want to make a home with and spend the rest of my life with. I know we’ve just met, but no one has ever touched me like you have, and that’s why I know it’s real.”

  She had known it too, hadn’t she? What they shared was unique and singular, the kind of connection that only came around once in a lifetime.

  “I plan to give you proof I keep my word,” he continued. “And someday soon, I hope you’ll say yes when I ask you to marry me.”

  Marriage? He had to be joking. Her knees felt weak, and they dipped a little before he grabbed her by the waist to steady her.

  “I need to sit down,” she said, seeing dancing stars in her vision.

  He helped her to a chair and then leaned over her. “They always say to take deep breaths. I don’t know why, but…breathe, dammit.”

  If she’d been in better condition, she might have laughed. Instead, she took deep breaths until she felt more level.

  He tipped up her chin and studied her face. “Your color is better. Still chalk-white but not death warmed over.”

  Lovely. “Maybe I can name some yarn that. I’ll sell out for sure.”

  His grunt was sufficient. She couldn’t find much humor right now either.

  “You hurt me,” she whispered, “but more, I was afraid I didn’t really know who you were. That the man I’d fallen in love with didn’t exist.”

  His brows shot up at that. “You love me? You could have said it earlier. Becca, I sweated out my shirt.”

  He embraced her awkwardly, and she patted his back. “I’ve never felt this way before, or so fast. And I thought maybe—”

  “I’d led you on or lied to you to get what I wanted,” he finished, his mouth twisting. “That’s why we had that conversation up front. I am not and never was interested in you
as a means to an end. I was only interested.”

  The directness of his gaze was powerful. She believed him. “I’m glad we cleared that up. Trevor, this is a lot to take in.”

  “I know it. It was a lot for me, but I’m fast on my feet.” He kissed her on the cheek sweetly. “So are you.”

  But would it be enough? He talked about loving her and her land, but he’d only been here for a few days. And he didn’t know about her agoraphobia yet. Could she tell him?

  All her old fears rose up.

  She’d need to tell him, eventually, if he was as serious as he said. But she couldn’t bear to do it yet. She’d never spoken about her condition to a soul save the specialists she’d worked with and her grandmother, Cian, and Aileen, and Sven, who turned on her—although she imagined others suspected but were too kind to say so. What if someone found out and used it against her? She’d read a story about an agoraphobic woman whose family put her in a sanitarium in order to take over their family estate. Trevor might be on her side, but Connor wasn’t.

  “Won’t Connor be upset you’ve failed in your duty?”

  “Yes,” he said. “That’s why I’m looking for an alternative, although honestly it’s not looking very promising.”

  “You’re still aiming to drill on Ireland proper?” she asked. She wasn’t an environmentalist, but this didn’t sit well with her. It would hurt tourism too, wouldn’t it? What tourist wanted to come to an Ireland decorated with metal towers?

  His jaw worked. “It’s what my brother wants, and he calls the shots. I disagree with him on this one, but I understand why he’s so adamant. Our cousin died recently on an offshore oil rig, and Connor swore our new operations would all be on land. He was closest to Corey, you see. They were best friends, and it hit him hard.”

  The poor man. “Did he have a family?”

  “Yes,” Trevor said, running his hand through his hair. “A beautiful wife and two kids. And his brother is slated to run our Irish operations.”

  “Even after his brother’s death?”

  “He’s always been brave,” he said, grimacing. “He’ll work on it even if it’s offshore, but Connor is adamant. This acquisition has more emotional weight than any other project I’ve worked on.”