Irish Meadows by Susan Anne Mason

décolletage, nor had he tried to flirt with her. What was wrong with the man? Maybe Gil was better suited to become a priest than Rylan Montgomery.
    â€œThank you for the dance.” Gil gave a mock bow, then leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Try to behave yourself for the rest of the night—if that’s possible.”
    She wanted to stick out her tongue, but instead she gave a small curtsey. “Your loss, Mr. Whelan.” She whirled around to seek her next dance partner, bemoaning the lack of wealthy men in attendance tonight. Mama must have invited every single girl in the area—but had sadly under-invited the gentlemen.
    â€œThere you are, Miss O’Leary.” Jared Nolan pushed his way through the crowd to reach her. “I’ve been trying to catch up with you for a dance all evening.”
    Tonight, dressed in a dark suit, his brown hair swept back off his forehead, Jared cut a very appealing figure. Gold cufflinks glittered at his sleeve as he held out his arm for her. Colleen gave an inward sigh. If only his family were richer. Yet, moving in the Nolans’ social circles would mean the opportunity to meet other, more wealthy men. She needed to make the most of every connection available to her.
    â€œWould you mind terribly if we postponed our dance and got some fresh air instead?” She peered at him through her lashes.
    A sly smile slid over his features. “Even better.”
    She took his arm, and they made their way to the French doors leading onto the balcony. On the way past a group of guests, the bold grin of Rylan Montgomery caught her eye, making her very glad to be on the arm of such an attractive man. Rylan nodded at her, and she raised her chin as they sailed past.
    The cool evening breeze was a welcome relief after the crowded interior. Colleen led Jared along the balcony to a more secluded area where a low, stone wall overlooked her mother’s famous rose gardens. An almost full moon beamed subtle rays of light over the grass and shrubs, giving ghostly illumination tothe marble statue of a woman in flowing robes, arms extended over a birdbath. Colleen breathed in deeply, hoping the soothing scent of her mother’s flowers would calm the unrest in her soul.
    As though sensing her tension, Jared draped a casual arm around her shoulders. “Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?”
    â€œOf course. It’s a wonderful evening.” The practiced line slid off her tongue. In truth, things had not gone at all as she’d hoped. She wasn’t actually planning to marry Gil, but sharing a few kisses in a dark corner could prove exhilarating.
    â€œYou look so beautiful in this lighting.” Jared’s husky voice whispered over her ear, sending shivers down her back.
    The adventure she’d craved all evening became a sudden possibility. She half turned so that her face almost met his, giving him an open invitation. With a low growl, he lowered his mouth to hers. No longer the restrained gentleman, he pulled her tight against him and deepened the kiss. A thrill tickled Colleen’s belly as the taste of whiskey filled her senses. At last, here was a man who took her seriously. This was no schoolboy kiss. This kiss hinted at dark pleasures she could only imagine. His hand roamed up her ribcage to brush her bare arm. She jumped, sudden panic seizing her limbs as awareness of just how secluded they were infiltrated her dazed mind. She wiggled to ease out of his embrace, but Jared only tightened his grip.
    â€œI’m thinking Mr. O’Leary might not like you manhandling his daughter that way.” The Irish lilt held an undercurrent of steel.
    Jared jerked back, releasing his tight hold on her. “Who the devil are you?”
    A wave of relief washed over Colleen, so intense it left her knees weak, followed just as quickly by a flare of annoyance. Grateful for the darkness to hide her flaming cheeks, Colleen pulled herself