“There aren’t many left in Ireland,” Griffin said. “I have to warn you.It’s old, haunted, and cursed.”
Clare affected a shiver and moaned. “I love it. Can’t wait to write about it.”
“You’re a writer?” Griffin asked sharply.
The inflection in his voice gave Clare a warning. That had been too close to the truth. Maybe he had an inkling of recognition. She’d better tread carefully.
So far, he’d been a pleasant and gracious host. Not a signof the rudeness and arrogance he’d dripped on the airplane. True, she had annoyed him by brushing her feathers over him and making him sneeze. But he’d started it by not stepping out into the aisle to let her into her seat.
She drove slowly through the gate and entered a formal garden full of trimmed hedges. The gray stone walls of the castle were jagged and old, covered with vines, andseveral round towers loomed above the battlements.
“What do you write?” Griffin asked.
She flashed him a shy smile and said, “Aspiring writer. I haven’t written anything yet, but I hope to write stories.”
“What kind of stories?”
“Mysteries,” Clare said. “Historical fiction. Stuff with castles and secrets.”
“At least it’s not silly romances between humans andfairies.” Griffin guffawed. “I’ve been reading one, and it’s unbelievably stupid. The writing is childish and vapid, and the heroine is overly hysterical.”
“Oh, really? Who’s the author?” Clare couldn’t help asking, hoping he hadn’t discovered one of her books.
Somehow, she cared about the opinion of this version of Griffin—not to mention that his gentlemanly ways had her desiresstirring in all the wrong places. She needed to get a grip. She was here to return the egg—er, the egg-shaped Heart of Brigid, not allow her hormones to run amuck.
“Pah, let’s not ruin a good conversation by mentioning her name.” Griffin waved a hand dismissively. “Let’s just say her characters are entirely too silly. They think wearing fairy paraphernalia makes them attractive to the Fae.Doesn’t she know it’s an insult to the Fae when mere humans parade around with wings, pointing their obnoxious wands and zapping everything in their paths?”
Gulp. Sounded like her characters. So, she overdid it in the clothing and accessory side, but try growing up an orphan with two changes of clothes, exactly the same.
“I don’t know what’s so silly about that,” Clare retorted.“There are high-fashion evening gowns based on fairy garb.”
“Real fairies don’t wear what passes for fairy garb on the internet,” Griffin pronounced. “You didn’t know that?”
It figured that his version of a real fairy was darker and more malevolent.
“Have you met one?” she asked as casually as she could.
“You mean you’re not one?” Griffin said, his eyes raking her gauzywhite dress. “And here I thought I’ve encountered a living goddess.”
She hooked a sidelong glance at him, slightly challenging. “If I were a living goddess, I could do one of two things. Strike you down and command you to do my bidding or pretend I’m a silly tourist lost in the bogs.”
“I’d prefer a beautiful and smart tourist,” Griffin said. “Goddess or not, Brigid O’ Brien, I likeyour name and your style.”
“I’m glad I meet with your approval.” Clare felt her cheeks warm and hoped she wasn’t blushing. “Your family is quite a legend in this area. How far back can you trace your lineage?”
“If you’re a goddess, you’d already know,” Griffin said, one side of his mouth turning a corner up. “But fear not, Brigid O’Brien, I will show you the stuff of legends. Areyou sure you’re prepared for a grand tour?”
“Of both your castle and your secrets?”
“The castle I’ll show you, but my secrets are not so easily given. Especially not to strange women found sitting on a rock. It’ll be your job to ferret me out.” He winked, looking amused.
“Challenge taken,” Clare said. “But beware. I might have special powers in the probing department.”
“Probe away.” He wiggled his eyebrows and flicked his tongue across his firm lips, sending a spiral of lust twirling low in Clare’s belly. “I’m going to enjoy your attention.”
Clare couldn’t help letting a satisfied smile slide onto her face. She almost felt like jumping up and down and humming, but she had to stay in character. Brigid would remain calm and collected.
This venturewas going better than she’d expected. Griffin was completely different from the way he’d acted on the airplane. He’d definitely forgotten their previous encounter and how insulting he’d been about her writing romances—although he came close when he demeaned the women who wore what he called fairy garb.
