CHAPTER TWO
Conor saw her coming.
He saw her the moment she crested the top of the hill, the very moment her gaze turned in his direction. He’d noticed her the first time she and her friend had joined his class, a woman of unearthly beauty and brilliant blue eyes. He couldn’t seem to stop staring at her, like she was a magnet and his eyes were steel. The two kept coming together and he could feel the sparks fly every time. Something about that woman leapt out at him like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was a strange and alluring sensation, and one not easily discarded.
Her friend, a nice young lady with the good Irish name of Aisling, had engaged him in conversation when his class broke up. As his students went about on exploration before the sun sank too low, the young woman with curly brown hair and brown eyes had approached him with a smile. She had wanted to know if he had any information about the great burial mound at Knowth and whether or not the legends were true about it being a portal into the Underworld.
Conor had responded politely to her foolish question, mostly because she was American and he knew she was only repeating what she had heard or seen in movies. Most Americans viewed the world the way their movies portrayed it. But he was also courteous to her because of the fair skinned goddess that had accompanied her on the off-hand chance that he might actually get to speak with her.
She was heading right for him. His hopes were about to be fulfilled. He couldn’t help but stare at the woman as she approached; she was short in stature, clad in sweaters and jeans, but there was no mistaking her curvy figure. Her light brown hair was long, with streaks of blond in it and cut into one of those layered styles that could be very sexy with a toss of the head. As the woman came upon them, he was struck by the pure porcelain beauty of her face and eyes so bright that they were nearly glowing. He’d never seen such a brilliant shade of blue. When their eyes finally met, he felt his heart flutter in his chest. He stared at her with a dumb grin on his face as Aisling spoke.
“Where did you wander off to?” she asked her friend.
The woman threw a thumb over her shoulder. “Down the hill,” she said in a sweet, sultry voice. “There are passages down there.”
“Passages?” Aisling was curious but remembered her manners, indicating the big Irishman standing next to her. “This is Dr. Daderga,” she introduced him. “He’s a professor over at Trinity College in Dublin. We apparently invaded his class.”
The woman turned to him, her bright blue eyes swallowing him up. She extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Daderga,” she said. “Destry Caldbeck.”
Conor was stupefied as he shook her soft, warm hand, feeling rather overwhelmed with such beauty. He felt like an idiot just staring at her and realized he should probably say something in return. Where have you been all my life, gorgeous?
“Nice to meet you,” he replied in his heavy Irish accent. “You’re American also?”
Destry nodded. “I am,” she replied. “California.”
“Where in California?”
“San Diego.” She pulled her hand discreetly from his grip because he hadn’t let her go yet. He just stood there holding her hand. There was something very big and virile and overwhelming about him. “Thank you for letting us infiltrate your class. You looked like you were having a lot of fun.”
He smiled at her; in fact, he couldn’t seem to stop smiling at her. “I was,” he replied. “This is one of my Ancient Irish History classes; we’ve toured three of the major sites today, this one being our last. It’s going to get dark quickly so they’re taking a few moments to explore the site before we buzz off.”
Destry nodded, glancing around at the students who were spread out over the top of the mound, poking around.
“You certainly had their attention with your stories,” she said. “It sounds like you have a pretty cool class.”
His grin grew. “They’re not stories,” he corrected her. “They’re Irish history.”
She laughed softly, displaying her beautiful smile and big dimple in her left cheek. “I believe you,” she said. “In fact, it wouldn’t hurt Aisling or me to learn a little Irish history. Aisling’s parents were born in Ireland and my mother’s parents were both born in Ireland before immigrating to the States back in the nineteen fifties. That’s sort of why we’re here; to get back in touch with our roots.”
Conor was completely focused on Destry, the shape of her face and the soft curve of her lips. He couldn’t seem to look at anything else. “Welcome back.”
Destry grinned at him, giving him a quirky lift of the shoulder. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s good to be back.”
He laughed softly, shoving his hands in his pockets as the wind picked up. “There’s a problem, though.”
“What?”
“You’re lacking a good Irish name like your friend. I’m surprised they let you into the country.”
In spite of herself, Destry was finding herself upswept in his charm. There was something very magnetic about him. “My middle name is Kenna,” she offered, putting up her hand as if swearing in court. “I promise; my mother named me after my grandmother, so there really is Irish in me.”
“Kenna,” he rolled it off his tongue with his heavy Irish brogue. “It means ancient one. But I have no idea what Destry means.”
“It’s of French origin. It means desired.”
He grinned from ear to ear. “Then I approve,” he said. “It suits you perfectly.”
Destry laughed, feeling rather giddy for a woman who had been wallowing in rejected misery for the past two weeks. Dr. Daderga’s compliments were doing something to ease that great big hole where her heart had once been. In fact, his entire presence had an odd effect on her, making her feel light and happy like she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She had seriously wondered over the past several days if she would ever be happy again.
“Thank you very much, Dr. Daderga,” she said graciously, distracted when a big gust of wind suddenly whipped around her and reminded her of the bizarre experience she’d had a few moments before. She couldn’t help but think of the whispers, of the word she heard more than once come from that dark and unnatural tunnel. Since Daderga seemed to be an expert on the site, she decided to probe him a little to see if she’d really been imagining things. “Do you mind giving us a crash course in this site? Anything interesting that the guidebook doesn’t tell us?”
He looked around, watching his students wander around the slick, green hill. “It’s a Neolithic burial mound,” he said. “During the dark ages, the indigenous population used to say that the gods lived under mounds like this. It was their way of explaining away what Stone Age man had built.”
Destry thought of the howling passage, of her experience, and began to get creeped out again.
“Have you ever heard the word ‘Etain’?” she asked, out of the blue.
Conor turned to look at her. “Of course,” he said. “She’s a heroine in Irish mythology.”
A bolt of shock ran through Destry and she glanced uneasily down the hill where the dark passages loomed. All of the effort she had taken to convince herself that the experience had been in her imagination was torpedoed by those eight little words.
“Seriously?” she asked, feeling somewhat sick. “It’s a woman?”
“Absolutely.”
Destry’s sense of uneasiness increased. “Is she evil?” she asked, then quickly clarified because she didn’t want him to think she was some oddball. “I mean, what was her story? Did she live underneath one of these mounds?”
He shook his head. “No,” he replied. “She’s a heroine in some of the earliest Irish Mythology cycles. She appears a few times in a few different stories. Why do you ask?”
There was no way Destry was going to tell him the reason behind her questions. She shook her head, almost too quickly.
“No reason,” she replied. “Just curious. I heard the name somewhere and I was just… curious.”
He bought her explanation, his gaze lingering on her. “I’d be happy to refer you to some books on Irish Mythology that recite Etain’s tales. Or I could tell you the stories myself. Sometime. If you’re not too busy.”
The man didn’t waste any time; he had known her all of two minutes and was already asking her on a date without really asking. As much as he had charmed her, Destry wasn’t ready to visit with or otherwise interact with a man one on one, no matter how attracted she was to him. Too much about her personal life was painful and unsettled, and she didn’t want to complicate things. Problem was, she couldn’t bring herself to flatly turn him down.
“You know all of the Irish mythology stories by heart?” she asked with incredulity, somewhat shifting the subject.
He shrugged, grinning again. “It’s my job to know them,” he said. “Plus, they’re very exciting. Better than the movies.”
“I saw you reciting something to your students earlier, flapping your arms around. Were you telling them some of the stories?”
“Of course,” his grin broadened. “What else would I be doing?”
A sharp whistle suddenly pierced the air and they turned to see one of the male students whistling to the group, rounding them up. Aisling, having been largely ignored throughout the conversation between Destry and Dr. Daderga, tugged on Destry’s arm.
“Come on,” she said. “It’s getting dark and we need to head back. I’m not comfortable driving on the right side of the car on these small roads after dark.”
Destry followed as Aisling began to walk, turning to thank Dr. Daderga for his time but seeing that he was trailing after them. Everyone was traveling in herds towards the slope that led down to the car park on the west side of the mound as the world around them began to dim with the coming night.
“How long are you both here?” Conor strolled up beside Destry. “Are you doing any tours or just winging it?”
Destry glanced up at the man. “We’re here for another five days and then we head to Paris,” she told him. “We took a tour yesterday in Dublin and tomorrow we’re doing a tour of ancient religious sites on the outskirts of Dublin.”
He nodded casually at the information as his students milled around and behind them, all trudging down to the car park.
“So you’re staying in Dublin?” he asked.
She nodded. “We’re staying at the O’Callaghan Davenport,” she told him.” It’s by the National Gallery.”
He bobbed his head quickly. “I know exactly where it is,” he said. “You’re not far from the college.”
“I didn’t know that.”
He wriggled his eyebrows. “That’s a fairly nice hotel. It’s famous for its Honeymoon Suite, you know. It’s supposed to be very romantic.”
Destry was staring at the ground as she spoke. “It is,” she said softly, then turned to look at him with a forced smile. “It was very nice to meet you, Dr. Daderga. Good luck with your class.”
Conor watched her very quickly make her way down the footpath toward the darkening car park. Aisling was still walking a few feet away from him, her brown eyes focused sorrowfully on her friend. She cast an apologetic glance at Conor.
“Thanks again,” she said politely. “It was very nice to meet you.”
Before she could scoot after Destry, he reached out and stopped her.
“I’m sorry if I said something offensive,” he said, his eyes lingering on Destry at the base of the mound. “I think I upset your friend. I didn’t mean to.”
Aisling gazed down the hill, watching Destry squeeze through the fence and head towards the car. It wasn’t like they were ever going to see Daderga again so she just told him the truth.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You didn’t know. The O’Callaghan really does have a hell of a honeymoon suite and I was supposed to be her husband.”
“Come again?”
“She supposed to be on her honeymoon right now. But I came instead of her groom.”
Conor got it, sort of. He watched Aisling skip down the trail after Destry, watching the woman slide through the fence in pursuit of her friend. She was supposed to be on her honeymoon, he rolled the words over in his head. It was a sad tale but he couldn’t honestly believe what idiot would refuse to marry that woman; she was absolutely perfect and then some.
While he felt a great deal of sympathy for her, the larger part of him was very glad that she didn’t get married. He had her name and the place she was staying at. Right or wrong, like it or not, he intended to do something about it.