Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2)

Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2) by Sibylla Matilde Page B

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Authors: Sibylla Matilde
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across to her, I touched her cheek with the back of my fingertips, relieved that her skin felt much cooler to the touch. Her fever must have broken sometime in the night.
    “You were sick,” I replied, pretending I didn’t hear the catch in her breath or see the startled and wistful look in her eyes. “I was worried about you all alone with that fever ya had.”
    “You gave me more medicine,” she said warily.
    “I did.” Her trepidation seemed a bit contagious, and I found myself becoming edgy and unsure as well.
    She rubbed her eyes and looked across the room, as though she was slowly recalling the past day or so. “Wait, what about your grandmother?”
    “She’s made a miraculous recovery. I called my da when we landed, and she’d already gone home. It would appear that she just wanted me back on Irish soil for a bit.”
    “She was faking it? I thought she was dying.”
    “So did I, but when my da told her I was halfway across the Atlantic, she opened her eyes and said she ought to get home to make some bacon and cabbage.”
    “Bacon and cabbage?”
    “Was always my favorite food as a young lad,” I explained, “and hers was the best. She wanted to make it for me.”
    “What the fuck?” she uttered, shaking her head, making me smile. Fliss had the ability to make a swear word sound like poetry to my ears. Strangely melodic. “So she was in the hospital about to die, and then she just got up and went home to cook for you?”
    “Pretty much,” I replied. “The docs didn’t think she should leave, but the stubborn old woman did it anyway. Had my da drive her home. By the time I got you checked in here and went to see her, she had supper all ready and waiting.”
    Fliss stared at me for a minute, clearly befuddled by this. She finally shook her head in wonder and stared across the room again, quiet for another moment.
    “I need to pee,” she murmured and stood, swaying ever so slightly after being down for so long, to stumble into the bathroom.
    I stretched out and walked over to look out the window at the small courtyard below and had to smile faintly at the scene below. A few folks were sitting at the tables just inside the iron gate, drinking coffee and talking on their cell phones as the rain pissed down around them. That was something you’d never see in Montana’s arid climate. Yet here in Ireland, you could wait an eternity for the rain to stop, so it didn’t seem to faze folks quite so much.
    The city was waking up, coming to life around us. A car zipped along the narrow street, then another. Behind me, I could hear the sound of water start and stop. The door opened and Fliss stepped out into the hotel room, still obviously unnerved by my presence there.
    She had a brush in her hand that she slowly swept through her long crimson hair, pulling it over her shoulder as she worked the knots out. Her eyes held a suspicious glint that made my heart ache a little, but I really couldn’t blame her. Aside from the flight, it had been donkey’s years since I’d been even remotely friendly towards her. It had been easier to be cold than to see her smile at me with that light in her eyes.
    Because that light always made me want more.
    “I’m still not quite sure why you’re here,” she finally said.
    “I’m not heartless, Fliss,” I explained, “no matter what ya think of me. You were all alone in the city and sick as hell. I couldn’t leave you to fend for yourself.”
    She pressed her lips together, sitting on the corner of the bed. “Thank you, I guess.” She looked down at the brush she now held in her lap and began to pull stray hairs from the bristles.
    “If ya want, I’ll take ya to get something to eat. There’s a place just around the corner that’s got some right good breakfast… awesome rashers.”
    “Awesome what?”
    I chuckled a little, in spite of the tension surrounding us. “Sliced up bacon that’s fried.”
    “How else would you cook bacon?”
    “Boiled, of

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