Irish Eyes (Stolen Hearts Romance) Read Online Free Page A

had gone already. The shelter stood, wrapped in eerie quiet, locked tight until evening. The lumbering shell of a building never quite felt empty. Always there were shadows and noises and the sense of someone or something in the next doorway, or just over your shoulder. The feeling had stopped needling Julia long ago but today she felt it to the depths of her bone.
    She drummed her fingertips against the scratched paint on her metal desktop then finally fixed her gaze on Craig and said, “I’m talking about Officer Shaughnessy.”
    “Officer who?”
    “Shaughnessy. The officer who just happened along at the exact time we needed him to spirit away the Irish boy we found.”
    “Ah, the leprechaun patrol.” Craig nodded his head and chuckled.
    “You wouldn’t be laughing if you knew what I do.” She skimmed her finger over the scribbled notes she’d made the night before. “There is no Officer Michael Shaughnessy that fits the description of our man with the Cincinnati police.”
    “Maybe he’s with the—”
    She traced her fingertip downward on the paper. “He’s not with the highway patrol, the sheriff’s department, or any of the local campus security forces.” Her wooden chair creaked as she leaned back in resignation. “Craig, he’s not even a mall cop.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    She shook her head. “I checked everywhere. Michael Shaughnessy is a great big fake.”
    Craig pushed against the arms of the chair as if ready to jump up and take action even though he stayed in place. “And we turned that kid over to him?”
    “That kid—who told us where to dig up a fortune,” she added.
    He hunched his shoulders forward. “What now?”
    “I don’t know, but—” She checked out the doorway one more time then inched close to her desk, lowering her upper body and her voice. “I’ve still got the gold.”
    “What?” He nearly leaped out of his chair.
    “Shh.” She placed her finger to her lips. “Think about it, Craig, a boy who knew the whereabouts of something so valuable, kidnapped by a man sneaky enough to impersonate a police officer? Add that when I told the cops I thought the boy might be in trouble they told me that without a name or photo there wasn’t much they could do to help him. If I had turned that gold over to the police, it might have been like signing that child’s death warrant.”
    “And since you didn’t, it might be like signing your own.”
    A solid chunk of ice seemed to settle in her throat. She could hardly breathe, let alone swallow. Craig was right, but then, so was she. Her mind raced but no single thought took center stage.
    She wanted to go stumbling out to her car and drive away as fast as she could for parts unknown. At the same time, she wanted to stay right there and never leave the relative safety of her familiar surroundings again. For the first time in a long, long time, Julia Reed, mountain mover, had to admit she needed something more than courage, wits and a shovel—she needed to ask for help. But from whom?
    “I was going to say top o’ the momin’ to you, but as I get a good long look at this place, I’m more in mind of bottom o’ the barrel.” Irish . The accent, though faint, poured like aged whiskey over every syllable from the deep, masculine voice out in the hallway. It sent a tingle through Julia’s body and a shiver down her spine. Then a man stepped into the doorway, smiling. “Looks like I got here just in time.”
    “You.” The word whooshed out with the rush of air from her lungs and she didn’t know if help had arrived or she had lost her ever lovin’ mind.
     
    *
     
    Cameron O’Dea made a show of glancing behind himself. His parka rustled, its open zipper cold against his wrist as he flattened his palm to his nubby gray sweater. He cocked his head at the woman with enormous blue eyes who was gaping at him. “Me?”
    “You’re... oh, my goodness,” she whispered.
    He raised an eyebrow at her unexpected reaction then