Free Island of the Heart by Sara Craven Page B

sister's smile widened. 'Not unless they classify hangovers as
    diseases these days.'
    'A hangover?' Sandie's eyes widened. 'But he didn't have that much
    to drink at dinner.'
    Jessica laughed. 'Who's talking about dinner?' she demanded. 'It was
    what came after. Flynn challenged Cris to a quick snooker match. In
    the end, it lasted half the night, and a lot of Black Bushmills, most
    of which seems to have been swallowed by Cris, because Flynn's
    fresh enough this morning.'
    Sandie found her hands curling into involuntary fists in her lap. She
    said slowly, 'I—see.'
    And she did see, only too well. The lord and master of Killane had
    chosen to intervene yet again, even though his interference was
    unjustified and totally unnecessary.
    How dared he? Sandie raged inwardly. Oh, God, how dared he?
    She dismissed the fact that the last thing she'd wanted the previous
    evening had been a visit from an amorous Crispin. She'd made her
    decision about that, and been prepared to carry it through, however
    awkward the consequences.
    Flynn Killane had no right to assume that she was willing to go
    along with Crispin's advances. His attitude was arrogant,
    overbearing and insulting. She could handle things for herself.
    It wasn't even as if he'd done it for the best possible motives—for
    her protection. She knew quite well that it was simply and crudely to
    put a spoke in her wheel.
    'Is something wrong?' asked Jessica. 'You look a bit jaded too. I
    hope you're not coming down with something. Magda has this
    morbid fear of people with colds.'
    Sandie forced a smile. 'No, I'm fine. I was just wondering what to do
    with myself, after I've had my practice.'
    'Well, you could always take Kelly for a walk.' Jessica indicated the
    spaniel, who was sprawled asleep in a patch of sunlight near the
    window. 'Magda bought him as an excuse to take exercise herself,
    but you can guess how long that lasted,' she added, grinning. 'Each
    time the wind changed she foresaw laryngitis. Anyway, if you're
    going out, I'd go soon. This weather isn't going to last.'
    'I must get some work done first,' said Sandie. 'After all, that's what
    I'm here for.'
    'Whatever you say,' Jessica said equably, and returned her attention
    to her paper.
    The practice session was hopeless, Sandie was forced to admit after
    an hour and a half. She was just too angry and upset to make any
    proper progress. She could not dismiss Flynn and his overbearing
    behaviour from the forefront of her mind, try as she might, which
    was infuriating in itself. Because the last thing she wanted or needed
    was to think about that— boor.
    She closed the lid of the piano with a muted slam, and rose. She
    would simply have to do as Jessica suggested, and walk off her ill-
    temper with Kelly.
    The spaniel seemed delighted at the prospect of a walk. Sandie took
    the leash she found hanging in the porch, but didn't attach it to the
    dog's collar, as Kelly seemed perfectly happy to gambol along
    beside her.
    She turned inland, forsaking the road as soon as possible for short
    springy turf and bracken, heading for the lower slopes of a tall hill
    which just seemed to have missed being a mountain. The sun was
    warm on her back, and the air smelled clean and fresh. She drank it
    in by the ecstatic lungful.
    Connemara had so much to offer, she thought, watching the
    changing shadows on the sunlit slopes as fleecy clouds drifted
    overhead. She had never seen so many shades of green in any
    landscape, and the tops of the Twelve Pins were a misty indigo.
    If it weren't for Flynn Killane, life would be perfect.
    Well, not completely, she was forced to acknowledge on reflection.
    There was still the existence of Crispin's marriage to take into
    account. She was vaguely troubled by the fact that he'd made no
    move to dissolve the marriage himself. Surely if Francesca had
    walked out on him two years previously he was legally entitled to
    do so, instead of waiting for her to make the first move.
    Unless Irish