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The sun warmed the soft green grass under her bare feet. Elizabeth took a long blade between her thumb and forefinger. She stroked it absently, feeling its smoothness as she looked at the white structure she’d built.
It was the first thing she had ever dreamed up from scratch and brought into the world.
From somewhere nearby an excitable bird began to sing. She looked to the trees and took in the space for the hundredth time, it was impossible not to smile.
Her very own fairy glen was teeming with lush verdant grass and wildflowers. It was her secret garden, her vibrant meadow, her ancient forest.
From the instant she’d found it weeks ago, she’d felt at home, like it was some magical escape from the real world where time stood still, and the cares of life couldn’t reach her.
A gentle breeze flowed in and around the circular clearing and through the mature woodland that surrounded it. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with fresh Irish air.
It was another beautiful summer day. They’d been lucky with the weather, it was the reason they’d been able to complete the white structure in front of her in only three weeks.
It wasn’t finished, there was still a good deal to do on the inside—electrical, plumbing, some of the drywall, as well as painting and the final touches, but Elizabeth was elated that they had managed to make her dream a reality in such a short period of time.
She lay back on the blanket she had strewn across the grass and stared up at the blue sky and the white puffy clouds as they floated serenely by. The sunshine seeped into her skin.
She took a deep breath and relaxed further, melting into the soft pink fabric.
She listened to the breeze and the birds, and the trees as they swayed. Every so often the scent from the flowers near the edge of the meadow wafted in her direction, especially the Wild Jasmine.
She breathed it in, let it wash over her.
It thrilled her to be still, to do nothing but listen to her inner voices.
The frustrating journey back to herself had been long and winding, but she had found her way.
She imagined Mags smiling down on her as she learned the lesson that life was merely a perpetual cycle of first losing and then finding yourself again.
The blue sky faded as she closed her eyes.
Memories of the last four weeks flooded her brain. The siege on the castle, the revelation that Camille was also her great-aunt. Looking after Audre after the attack and setting Aidan up to recover fully at the house he’d inherited from his grandfather outside Adare. They’d given him enough to retire well at thirty-seven, even though he’d objected.
The stab wound would heal, but Aidan had been deeply hurt by Henry’s betrayal. He held no one more accountable than himself.
They’d fired Henry, but kept him out of the courts. He hadn’t known about Josh’s murderous plan—and he’d given the information only so he could afford a New York specialist for his daughter, Aimee.
Elizabeth and Connor made sure the family had all they needed.
Henry had been so distraught at what he’d done and the kindness they’d shown that he had broken down in sobs at their feet.
It had shaken all of them, including Connor.
The memory nearly brought her to tears again.
Declan had swooped into action upon his return the day after all the excitement. He conducted another full background check on their remaining security members, which would now always include a vulnerability and risk assessment.
Then he reached out to his Army Ranger contacts and hired a new team led by Joseph Clarke, a stoic man with mostly silver hair and a grizzled stubble beard, and his second in command, Noah Lewis, who was a couple of years younger than Elizabeth, had dark hair and a nice-guy face.
They brought the rest of their team with them. There was Tyler Whelan, a thirty-something Ken doll lookalike with model good looks, and Max and Jacob Gilroy—a set of jolly, but lethal, twenty-something brothers.
All were former members of Ireland’s Army Rangers and were highly trained in many things Connor and Elizabeth were not allowed to know about. Declan had assured them that they were just the thing and had served as security and bodyguards to diplomats and VIPs alike.
Joseph and Noah had revolutionized their security. In less than a week, they had expanded the guardhouse to include full living quarters for the new team, upgraded all the tech, removed the previous vulnerabilities which had led to the rest of their security being knocked out with gas during the siege, installed dozens of security cameras around the perimeter of the estate, and upgraded the systems inside the castle itself.
The change in teams was the only bit of gossip that had made it to the rest of the town. For all anyone knew, Aidan had switched careers and gone home, Henry was focusing on his daughter, and the rest didn’t exist.
No one knew about the incident at Castle Bannon. Camille’s involvement had meant several international government organizations had swooped in and required NDAs from the handful of Garda on the scene, the paramedics, and the hospital staff. The head of the Garda had been informed, but that was it.
Their estate was remote enough that it had been possible to keep it all a secret.
It had taken Connor weeks to relax. He’d wanted to install panic rooms on every floor, she and Declan had attempted to talk him out of it. They succeeded, mostly. The incident had renewed the overprotective nature he’d shown during their courtship—much to her annoyance.
She took a breath and redirected her thoughts.
She remembered the shipment from California and the things she’d sent herself after packing up Mags’ house in Berkeley.
The picture between the cushions of the blue couch.
The tantalizing puzzle of Mags’ time in the war and the mystery of why she’d taken her story to the grave.
She turned the questions over in her mind again and again, examining them from different angles, hoping to get some clarity, until she heard footsteps on the path.
She propped herself up on her elbows, just as Connor emerged from the trees.
His simple black T-shirt hugged his defined chest, the sleeves stretched tightly over his arms. His face transformed into a beautiful smile as his eyes found her. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans and began walking towards her.
Perhaps it was her deep state of relaxation or the storybook setting, but her gorgeous Irishman appeared to be walking in slow motion, in confident lithe strides.
A playful breeze struck him in the face, like a fan on a runway, blowing the light brown locks off of his face, while the sun caught his sapphire eyes.
From somewhere in her imagination, she heard a slow bass-rich anthem playing—the type of song that could be found on the soundtrack for a teen vampire romance movie. Her husband’s steps matched the beat in her head perfectly.
She sat up automatically, entranced. She felt her jaw drop and the butterflies dance in her stomach—all annoyance at the return of his overprotective nature, erased. A familiar warmth spread throughout her body. Her breath caught in her chest.
She felt every bit the teenager.
He reached her then, eyebrows drawn together.
He looked at her quizzically, but spoke with a delighted kind of humor in his voice, “Are you all right, Lara?”
When she didn’t immediately respond, he laughed and brought himself down onto the blanket beside her.
Her brain refused to catch up with reality.
He shook his head and smiled, leaning over to gently close her mouth before bringing his lips to hers for a light kiss.
The physical contact connected her brain to her body. She blinked furiously and felt her cheeks get warm. All at once she exhaled, not realizing she’d been holding her breath.
He let out a satisfied, “Hmmm,” before nudging her with his shoulder playfully, “s’pose it’s good to know I can still capture your attention,” he joked, his beautiful Irish accent shining through.
Her lips turned up at the corners, “I suppose you can,” she mused.
Connor grew suddenly serious, “It’s only natural,” he breathed. “You’re only human,” he nodded, feigning wisdom.
She swatted his arm and laughed, regaining herself.
“Ouch!” he pretended. Turning towards her studio, “Where is everyone? I thought they’d still be here under the watchful eye of their taskmaster,” he gave his wife a sidelong glance.
Elizabeth straightened, “I can’t imagine what you mean,” she said in an airy tone that sounded strange even to her ears.
She thought she was an excellent client—direct, confident in what she wanted, and generous—she just called people out on their excuses and BS more than others, which meant she kept the crew on their toes. But she was sure to keep them all in pizza and sandwiches for good measure as well.
“Uhuh,” was his only answer.
“What? I am a delightful boss,” she said defiantly. “It’s Friday,” she said more earnestly, “I said they could go early since they’ve officially finished the outside.”
“Have they now?”
She nodded, “Yep.” She gave him a rundown of the work that remained.
As soon as she had finished, two birds began to sing from the treetops. They answered each other in a pleasant duet.
Connor searched until he placed them in the branches of an ash tree that stood at least fifty feet tall. He pointed, “Over there!”
“I see them.”
Beside her Connor took a deep breath, “It is peaceful here, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed. “You know . . . you don’t have to keep checking on me.”
A shrug was his only response.
“Although,” she began, “thanks for not sending one of the guys. I’m sure Noah and Tyler are tired of being sent around to baby sit me.”
Connor chuckled, “Yes, well, ever since Audre pointed out how much Tyler resembles a Ralph Lauren model, I’ve tried to . . . errr . . . not send him so often.”
“Why, Connor Bannon, are you jealous?”
He gave her a stern look, “Of any man who gets to breathe the same air as you when I can’t—always!”
“When are you going to learn, Bannon—I can take care of myself.”
“Oh, I know you can! The extra protection is for me—to make me feel better. Lara . . . when are you going to learn that you’re my whole world.”
She looked down at the grass, letting his words sink in. “But no security this weekend, right? You promised.”
He nodded. “Yes, I remember the deal.”
They sat in silence for several minutes.
She watched him, guessing at his thoughts until a smile started to form on his lips.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
He shook his head, “I’m just . . . happy. I had another good day going through the warehouse,” he shook his head again, “I can’t believe it’s taken me all of this time to sort through everything. There have been some amazing finds.”
“You mean besides the hellfire papers?”
He nodded, “Today I found an elaborate golden goblet with these stunning rubies and pearls. It’s really . . . something,” he said dreamily.
“And you’re happy because it’s valuable?”
“Well yes, but I’m more excited about what might make it . . . especially valuable,” he chose his words carefully. “I’ll have my mate at Trinity have a look. I’m hoping he can confirm what I think.”
“And what do you think?”
He pursed his lips, considering, “I’d rather not say until I know, don’t want to jinx it,” he smiled.
Connor had spent the last month in the giant warehouse that took up part of the estate. It was filled with all of his father’s furniture and personal belongings. He’d removed it all from the castle and shoved it in the warehouse, when he’d set out to complete his own renovation several years before.
It had all just sat there, never to be looked at again. To date he’d found many things to hold his interest, many treasures from the past. Treasures which had been hidden away from the rest of the world.
He hadn’t been ready to deal with any of it then, to deal with his father’s belongings, but it had been years since he’d dealt with his father’s demons, the baggage he’d left behind—ever since Elizabeth had waltzed into his life.
Now all the things in storage were just artifacts. Some interesting, some valuable, none of it a threat to his inner peace. Not anymore.
Elizabeth smiled at him, “You know your features change when something is holding your interest.”
“Really? What do I look like?”
“Like . . . like a little boy. The way I imagine you looked when your mother designed that treasure map and you spent the day traipsing through the forest trying to find all of the clues and little treasures that she had buried.”
He had been different. He’d been spending a lot of time in that warehouse, a lot of time working and researching, but it was different than the way he had been shut up in his office or constantly away at his auction house in Rome only weeks before. There was a curiosity and a joy about his work now.
It had been delightful to watch.
Connor reached over, took her hand and drew it into his lap, then clasped it in both of his. “What about you, Luv? How is your search going?”
Elizabeth sighed, “Same.”
She began to think about the photograph, about what it all meant, but she stopped herself.
Not wanting to fall into the rabbit hole again, she dodged the conversation. “Let’s not talk about it, let’s just be still for a few minutes.”
She lay back onto the blanket taking Connor with her. They lay side-by-side, looking up into the sky, holding hands and feeling the sun on their bare skin. The cool breeze caressed them. Their bodies remained connected, but their minds were lost in their own separate thoughts.
After a few minutes, their peace was broken by a monstrous growl. It was short at first, but then it came again, growing longer and ending in a crescendo.
Connor turned his head to her, “Jaysus! If I didn’t know my wife so well, I would swear there’s a tiger in the trees.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I guess it’s time for lunch. Care to join me?”
He took his phone from his pocket and looked at the time. He drew his eyebrows together and frowned. “I would love to, but I sent a few images of the goblet to Harry, my mate at Trinity, and I really ought to give him a call. Do you forgive me?”
“Of course,” she answered.
His face split into a large grin. Ever the curious boy, on the hunt for treasure. Her heart skipped a beat.
She leaned over and kissed him. His lips were smooth and strong and supple. She released him, resting her forehead against his, “Go play.”
His eyes danced with mischief at her words. He stood up. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner. Audre and Kilian are back today, aren’t they?”
Elizabeth nodded.
He considered for a moment, “Why don’t we all have a picnic by the lough for dinner? It’s too nice a day to eat inside, what d’ya think?”
It was a beautiful day, and the weather was expected to hold. “Sure, that’ll be nice.”
He started to walk away, then stopped. He turned back and in two long strides he was at the base of the blanket again; he took a knee in front of her, resting his weight on his hands.
He leaned into her, kissing her one more time, before bringing his lips to her ear, “I love you, Lara,” he whispered.
A delicious chill ran down her spine. Before she knew what was happening, he was on his feet again and walking out of her fairy glen.
The trees swayed in greeting as she passed through the small dirt path that led from their estate to the town. It was a short, pleasant walk—accessible only to those who already knew the way.
Elizabeth took in the lush trees that surrounded her and watched the leaves as they danced in the breeze. Thick green ivy climbed up many of the oak and ash trees. She relished in the verdant world that filled her vision.
The sunshine broke through the dense canopy, illuminating the path here and there, creating crepuscular rays. She put out her hand and played with the light as she walked.
The air smelled of nature, of sunshine, and, like much of the estate, wildflowers. The little avenue was straight out of a storybook on that July day. ...
