Read Mr. O'Grady's Magic Box for Free Online

imagination, but the woman he thought to never
see again. She was even more beautiful than he remembered her to be
with her blonde hair streaked with gold, and eyes as green as the
rolling hills of Ireland. She looked at him now, her gaze nearly
scorching him. Okay, she had every right to be angry, but at the
time, he thought he'd done a noble thing by leaving her.
    "You abandoned me," she accused as if she'd
read his mind.
    "Aubrey—" He began only to have her cut him
off.
    "Don't say it. It doesn't matter." Even
though her voice obviously indicated that it did matter. Her agile
fingers whipped the papers from his hand before she whirled
away.
    Where was she going? Back upstairs to her
room? He ran his hand through his hair knowing if he let her walk
away, he'd never have the chance to make things right. He jogged in
front of her, halting her escape. "We should talk."
    Her eyes narrowed and her flushed face
turned a shade darker. "I suggest you move out of my way. Now."
    "Aah, there you are." His granddad
approached them. His lips curved into a wide grin, oblivious to the
black rage radiating off of Aubrey like a warning beacon to stay
clear.

Chapter Eight
     
    Aubrey turned to look at Mr. O'Grady, trying
not to grit her teeth as she forced her lips to return the same
friendly gesture. "You were looking for me?" Her voice rose, the
anger still too close to the surface . Deep breaths, Aubrey. Stay
calm. Mr. O'Grady has nothing to do with Ian.
    "Actually, I be looking for the both of you.
I see you met my grandson, Ian."
    She didn't want to believe it, but Mr.
O'Grady would have no reason to lie to her. "This is your
grandson?" Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Ian, silently cursing
him for being in such good shape. She'd ogled him last night as he
stood in the parking lot speaking to his grandfather. Ian, the SOB
who'd made her feel like a fool for loving him.
    "Oh aye, one of my grandsons anyway." His
gaze landed on Ian's. "This here is the lovely reporter I told you
about last night."
    Ian turned his gaze on her, his eyebrows
arching in surprise. "You're the reporter here to see my
granddad?"
    Mr. O'Grady didn't give her a chance to
answer. "Didn't I say as much?" He clicked his tongue. "Now where
was I? Oh, yes. I was wondering if you two would be willing to do
me a favor." He started walking away, apparently never doubting
they would follow. "Ian, be the gentleman I know you to be and help
Miss Jules with her things," he called over his shoulder.
    Ian went to relieve her of her burden, but
she jerked away, her glare warning him he should stand down. He
lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Suit yourself." He followed
his granddad, glancing back at her. Obviously, he expected her to
go on her way, but she readjusted her load and trailed behind. She
was here to write a story, and she'd be damned if she let Ian stop
her.
    Mr. O'Grady led them into the library where
the remnants of the early morning pastries and coffee were on the
back table. Aubrey deposited her things on one of the tables as she
waited for Mr. O'Grady to tell them what he needed.
    "Well, are you not going to sit down?" he
asked, waving his hand with impatience.
    They both looked to where he pointed. A
table was set for two with teacups and cloth napkins. Aubrey had no
idea what this was all about, but she wasn't going to sit down with
Ian Quinn and share a cup of tea.
    Unfortunately, Mr. O'Grady had other plans.
Before she could utter a word, he took her by the elbow and led her
to a seat. "I whipped up something new in the kitchen. I need an
honest opinion from the two of you." Mr. O'Grady turned to his
grandson. "Ian, don't just stand there; sit down." He shook his
head as he headed for the kitchen.
    Ian pulled out a chair and sat. He stared at
her from across the table, but she refused to meet his gaze. She
bit down hard and grimaced. If she didn't stop clenching her teeth,
she'd end up cracking a tooth.
    Ian reached for the teapot and poured the
liquid