Read IRISH FIRE for Free Online Page A

you, she said wearily. However, with the exception of two children, divorce will be the only good thing to come out of my marriage. Her eyes challenged him. Is there anything else?
    He reached into his back pocket and handed her a piece of paper. This.
    She read it twice, quickly, then handed it back to him. It isnt true.
    Which part isnt true, Mrs. Claiborne?
    Caitlin, she said, quietly. Please, call me Caitlin. She was so tired it was an effort to speak. From behind her haze, she watched him hang his jacket on the back of a chair, roll up his sleeves, and spoon tea leaves into the pot. She wondered if hed always been like this, practical, objective, every action measured.
    No one would ever call him handsome, not in the fleshy, muscular, ruddy-skinned way of Irish men. Brian Hennessey was lean, so lean that the housewives of Kilcullen Town most likely clucked sympathetically while leaving puddings and stews on his doorstep. He had thin, finely hewn features, soaring black eyebrows, and heavy-lidded eyes the clear, blue-green color typical of the Aran Islands where the Anglo-Norman influence hadnt infiltrated the general population. Under the spare flesh, his bones were narrow, capable, of the chiseled quality found in men who ate only when their stomachs reminded them it was time for a meal. The very look of him bespoke calm, reason, and competence, the kind of man whose level blue gaze and steely conviction a woman could count on when she needed it.
    It suddenly occurred to her that she wanted him on her side.
Kentucky Gold
is mine, she explained. My husband gave her to me as a wedding gift.
    He looked skeptical.
    Its true, she insisted. Ive put years of labor into Claiborne Farms.
Kentucky Gold
is all I asked for.
    He leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. I imagine Sam Claiborne thought your marriage would last.
    Well, it didnt.
    Why not?
    She stared at him. No Irishman would ask such a question. Its none of your concern, she stammered.
    Brian continued to look at her. His unblinking stare grated on her nerves.
    Did you hear me? she asked at last.
    His voice turned low and husky and his answer was the last one either of them expected. It seemed to come from somewhere deep inside of him. I cant remember when Ive seen eyes so dark against skin so fair. Martin never told me you were pretty enough to stop traffic. Then he smiled and somehow, without quite knowing why, the standard by which she had previously determined the measure of a man had been irrevocably altered.
    She felt the heat clear up to her hairline. Before she could formulate a sensible reply, he was all business again.
    Its very much my concern if Im harborin a stolen horse in my stables, he said deliberately. The entire reputation of the farm is at stake.
    I told you the mare is mine.
    What about the foal?
    Caitlin bit her lip. Im not sure yet.
    When will you know?
    Nervously, she fidgeted with her hair clip. Handfuls of black curls fell around her face. Sam has other foals. I only want this one.
    But is he rightfully yours?
    I dont know, she confessed. My lawyer is filing a petition for a court date. A judge will decide.
    The sharp whistle of the kettle interrupted them. Brian poured water into the teapot. There has been a new development, Caitlin. Your husband confirmed that his prize stallion,
Narraganset
, died yesterday from a blood clot on the brain.
    She couldnt have heard him correctly. Not
Narraganset
, the greatest stallion in the history of American turf, a stallion whose breeding services were reserved ahead of time for a million dollars a covering.
    Caitlin. Brians voice came to her as if from a great distance. Her thoughts were coming too quickly, flip-flopping inside her head. Hard fingers dug into her shoulders, and eyes, impossibly blue, peered down at her. Listen to me, Caitlin.
Kentucky Gold
has just given birth to
Narraganset
s last foal. Samuel Claiborne may care nothin for horses but hes no fool. Hell never