Kate Hoffmann - Kellan

He’d fallen in love with her. Danny was right and there was no denying it. But how had it happened? They’d only known each other two weeks. Or maybe they’d known each other since that summer day he’d chased her across the meadow.

There was only one thing that Kellan was sure of. He intended to keep Gelsey in his bed and in his life for as long as she’d have him. If he was lucky, that would be a very, very long time.

THE DARK PANELING in the conservatory was draped with fresh greenery, holly and pine mixed with red twigs, putting Gelsey in a cheery mood. Caroline had laid out a sumptuous breakfast on the small table and Gelsey poured herself a cup of hot chocolate, wrapping her hands around the bone-china cup. “Try the scones,” she said, reaching for her favorite, a candied-cherry scone. “They’re still warm.”

Kellan sat across from her, his hair sticking up in spikes, a sleepy look in his eyes. He took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “I like this.”

“What? Being waited on hand and foot?”

“No. Sitting here with you, reading the newspaper, watching the rain come down outside, thinking about Christmas.”

They’d both fallen asleep sometime around eight the previous night and slept soundly until seven the next morning. Since it was Saturday, Gelsey didn’t need to be at the shop until noon, so a leisurely breakfast was exactly what she needed.

“I can’t believe how well I slept,” she said, breaking off a bit of scone and slathering it with butter.

“I know. Me, too. I guess we really should try to get to bed early at least one night a week.”

“You think so?” She pushed the plate of scones in his direction. “Try one. I used to live on these when I was younger. Caroline used to send me boxes of them at boarding school, although they never taste really good unless they’re right from the oven.”

“So this is where you spent your summers?” He nodded approvingly. “It’s a beautiful house, Gels. Classic country architecture. It’s the kind of house everyone wants these days but it’s impossible to replicate.”

“It is nice. Whenever I think of home, this is the place I think of. Even though my parents never lived here.”

“I grew up in the cottage.”

“Our cottage?” she asked.

Kellan nodded. “Yeah. The seven of us in that tiny little cottage. It seems impossible when I think back on it, but it was fun. After we all left home, my folks moved to one of the flats above the pub.”

“How long have you been here? I mean, this visit?”

“I’ve been here for about three months. I was staying with a friend in Portugal. We were in Rome for a few days, then back to Portugal. And then I came here.”

“And you left Portugal for the damp and rainy west coast of Ireland?”

“Yes,” she said. “It was time to leave and I wanted to spend the holidays at Winterhill.”

“So you have a house and you’re going to own a business soon. I guess that means you’re planning to hang around county Cork for a bit longer?”

Gelsey nodded. “That’s the plan for now.”

He bit into a scone. “Good. I like that.”

Gelsey reached for the salver in the center of the table, loaded with all the dishes in a traditional Irish breakfast. She filled a plate for Kellan and set it in front of him. “Here. Eat. You’re going to need your strength.”

“Why is that? Are we going back to bed after we’re finished eating?”

“No. You’re going to help me out at the shop today. I have some heavy lifting to do.”

The wood fire in the small hearth popped and snapped, creating a relaxing counterpoint to their conversation. Gelsey was glad he’d come to Winterhill. He needed to know what her life had been as a child in order to understand how it had gone so badly off track as a young adult. It wasn’t an excuse for her behavior, simply a point of reference.

A knock at the front door echoed through the quiet interior of the house and Gelsey frowned. “Who could that be?”

A few seconds later, Caroline came hurrying in. Her face was pale and her hands were twisted tightly in the front of her apron. “Oh, dear,” she muttered. “I’m afraid I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“What is it?”

“At the door. He called yesterday and I told him you weren’t home and that I hadn’t seen you for days. He said he’d call every day until he had a chance to speak to you.”

“Antonio?” Gelsey asked, her stomach twisting into a knot at the mention of his name.

“Who’s Antonio?” Kellan asked, his mouth full of buttered scone.

“Tell him I’m not here,” she said. “Send him away. I don’t want to see him or talk to him. It’s finished. And if he wants his ring back, he can find it at the bottom of the Atlantic just off…” She turned to Kellan. “What’s that place called again?”

“Smuggler’s Cove?”

“Yeah,” Gelsey said.

“Smuggler’s Cove.”

“All right,” Caroline said. “But how should I explain the extra cars in the driveway?”

Kellan pushed his chair back from the table. “Go back to the kitchen. I’ll take care of this.”

A voice echoed through the house. “Gigi! I know you are here. This is childish. We have to talk.”

Gelsey shot up out of her chair. “You will not. Sit down.” She pointed to his chair. “Sit!” She neatly folded her linen napkin and dropped it next to her plate. “I’ll take care of this.”

In truth, she should have done this months ago. Rather than running away from him, she should have explained why she was leaving and how it was impossible for her to continue with such a destructive relationship.

It was his fault she was in trouble with the Italian police. He’d started the argument with the photographers and she was only trying to defend herself. Unfortunately, she’d been the one to break the photographer’s nose, not Antonio.

Though Antonio could be stubborn at times, he was smart enough to see that they weren’t right for each other. But she’d played games with him in the past, taunting him with threats of leaving just to get him to behave himself. Now that she’d finally done it, it was no wonder that he didn’t believe it was real.

“I’ll be right back,” Gelsey said. She strode through the dining room and into the foyer. As expected, Antonio stood in the doorway, handsome as ever, impatiently tapping his foot and cursing beneath his breath. He froze when he saw her.

“Dios mio,” he muttered. “You are here.”

“I am,” Gelsey said, nodding.

He grabbed her arms and pulled her into a kiss, but Gelsey twisted away, holding up her hand in a warning. “Don’t do that again.”

“Why not? I have missed you, my love. I have been so lonely without you.”

“You’re going to have to get used to that. I meant what I said on the phone. We’re finished, Antonio. You know it, I know it. By now, the rest of the world probably knows it. There’s nothing left to talk about.”

Gelsey heard footsteps behind her and a moment later, Kellan’s arm slipped around her waist. “Is there a problem here?” he asked.

Gelsey looked back and forth between the two men as they sized each other up. Kellan had no idea who he was dealing with. Antonio was known for his quick temper and it didn’t take much provocation for him to throw a punch. He’d been sued by at least three photographers for doing just that. “Kellan, I think you should go back to our breakfast.”

“Your breakfast?” Antonio shouted. “I see how this is. I am not a fool. This is the man who replaces me, no?”

“Yes,” Kellan said.

“No,” Gelsey countered. “You were out of my life before I even met him.”