Free An O'Brien Family Christmas by Sherryl Woods Page B

reasoning. Much as she wanted to believe she could turn her back on her father, it was going to be harder than she’d anticipated. She’d spent too many years trying to please him to change overnight.
    “Fair enough,” she told Matthew, pleased that he understood her so well, even if the insight didn’t speak highly of her and the influence her father continued to have over her life. She either had to break that bond—sever it with no regrets, which seemed unlikely—or find a new strategy for dealing with not only her father, but her mother as well. Those two had acted as one as far back as Laila could remember, even when she and Trace had thought for sure that their mother sympathized with them.
    Laila shivered once more in the cold, damp air, and this time she couldn’t ignore it. “I think I’d like to have that tea now,” she told Matthew.
    “Good idea, since your lips are turning blue,” he teased. “I could remedy that right here.”
    Her breath caught. “Oh?”
    His gaze searched hers. “With your permission.”
    She nodded, unable to squeeze a single word past the lump in her throat. She wanted to be kissed here in this beautiful place, capping a memory she knew would last a lifetime.
    Slowly he lowered his mouth to hers. The heat was instantaneous. It spread through her from head to toe like a wildfire burning free.
    “Oh, Matthew,” she murmured against his lips. She could feel his smile even as he deepened the kiss, made her remember just how intoxicating his effect on her was.
    But all that heat was dangerous, she reminded herself. If she wasn’t careful, she could get burned. She could lose her heart, lose the future that had once mattered so much to her.
    Those thoughts snapped her back to reality. She’d already lost that future. Hadn’t she been saying for weeks now that there was no going back, not to the bank, not under her father’s thumb? Was she as uncertain about that as Matthew had implied only moments earlier?
    Matthew, however, was here, holding her ever so gently, claiming her with a passion she’d only dared to dream of. Had she been crazy to let this go?
    Or was it crazy to believe it could last?
    Since she had no answer, she gently extricated herself from his embrace, pretended not to see the confusion in his eyes.
    “That was nice, but I still want tea,” she said, an unmistakable hitch in her voice.
    Matthew looked as if he had plenty he wanted to say, but in the end, he only nodded. “Then tea it is.”
    “And one of those fantastic scones with lots and lots of Devon cream.”
    He laughed then. “Are you sure you’re not Irish?”
    “Sorry, no,” she said. “Unless it’s very distantly.” She only aspired to be…by becoming an O’Brien. The thought startled her so badly, she nearly stumbled on the path and tumbled into the sea.
    Matthew, of course, steadied her. “Something wrong?” he asked.
    “Not a thing,” she responded cheerfully. “Nothing that a steaming cup of tea won’t cure.”
    But even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. Only giving in to her feelings for Matthew was going to cure what ailed her. She just didn’t know if she dared risk it.
     
     
    Matthew had been cornered by his sister and Mack the minute they returned from the trip to Howth.
    “We need your help,” Susie told him, dragging him into the bar and ordering Irish coffees all around before Matthew could even speak up to say he’d prefer something a little less lethal.
    “Okay, what’s this about?” he asked, looking from his sister to his brother-in-law.
    Mack shrugged. “Ask Susie. She’s the one who has some kind of bee in her bonnet.”
    Susie gave him a chiding look. “Quaint expression,” she commented. “I just have a few concerns. I think it’s my sisterly duty to discuss them with you.”
    “Concerns about…?” Matthew asked, even though he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answers.
    “You and Laila. Or, rather, your intentions toward