Her hero. Her savior. And her undoing…
Rourke Quinn found her on the storm-tossed shores of Cape Breton. The woman in his arms was unconscious and bleeding. And Rourke knew her. Annie MacIntosh was the town outcast—a wild thing. And as untamed and beautiful as the Atlantic itself. This storm was just the thing to keep Rourke as close to her as he dared....
Annie grew up fiercely independent. She was a survivor, needing no one and nothing. She cut herself off from the town and society, relying only on her raw need for survival. But Rourke unleashes a hunger she never knew existed. This man—this stranger—satiates an appetite she hardly dared imagine. It’s more exciting and more turbulent than that storm that rages outside. And Rourke has only one chance with the wild girl he can’t live without...before losing her to a world he can never be part of.
Praise for Kate Hoffmann’s MIGHTY QUINNS
“This truly delightful tale packs in the heat and a lot of heart at the same time.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Dermot
“This is a fast read that is hard to tear the eyes from.
Once I picked it up I couldn’t put it down.”
—Fresh Fiction on The Mighty Quinns: Dermot
“A story that not only pulled me in, but left me weak in the knees.”
—Seriously Reviewed on The Mighty Quinns: Riley
“Sexy, heartwarming and romantic, this is a story to settle down with and enjoy—and then reread.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Teague
“Sexy Irish folklore and intrigue weave throughout this steamy tale.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Kellan
“The only drawback to this story is that it’s far too short!”
—Fresh Fiction on The Mighty Quinns: Kellan
“Strong, imperfect but lovable characters, an interesting setting and great sensuality.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Brody
Dear Reader,
One of my favorite things about writing books for Mills & Boon is the opportunity to explore interesting new places. When I decided to do this latest quartet of Mighty Quinn books, I was excited to have the chance to choose four very different settings, in various parts of the world. Of course, the final book had to be set in Ireland, but for this book, I played with the settings of Central America and Africa before deciding on the island of Cape Breton in Canada.
With its vibrant Celtic culture and old lighthouses, I knew right away that this was the perfect place for a Quinn to fall in love—with the countryside and the heroine!
So, for all my Canadian fans, this one’s for you. I hope I’ve represented this beautiful corner of your country well. I think it’s the perfect place for Rourke and Annie to find their happy ending.
Enjoy!
Kate Hoffmann
The Mighty Quinns: Rourke
Kate Hoffmann
www.millsandboon.co.uk
KATE HOFFMANNhas written more than seventy books for Mills & Boon, most of them for the Blaze ®line. She spent time as a music teacher, a retail assistant buyer and an advertising exec before she settled into a career as a full-time writer. She continues to pursue her interests in music, theater and musical theater, working with local schools in various productions. She lives in southeastern Wisconsin with her cat, Chloe.
Dedicated to the memory of Rita MacNeil,
an extraordinary voice from an extraordinary place.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Excerpt
Prologue
“IT’S BEEN SO long. I’m beginning to lose hope that we’ll ever find them.”
Aileen Quinn stared out the window of her office at the slate-gray sky. Autumn was quickly turning to winter and she dreaded the damp cold that would settle into her bones. In her younger days, she’d traveled to the south of France during the worst of the Irish winter, soaking up the sun along the Mediterranean coast. But she hadn’t traveled for years, finding herself more comfortable in familiar surroundings.
“I have one more lead to check on your brother Diarmuid,” Ian said, leafing through his notes. “But I’m sad to say that we’ve found nothing on Lochlan. I have researchers on four continents looking for him, but he just disappeared. Off the grid, they call it.”
Aileen had hired Ian Stephens months ago to help her research the parents she’d never known for a chapter in her autobiography. She had grown up in an orphanage, believing that she’d been the only daughter of a destitute Irish widow who’d died of consumption—after her husband had been killed in the Easter Uprising. But Ian had discovered four older brothers—siblings she hadn’t remembered—whose fates had been scattered to the winds when their mother couldn’t care for them.
“I’m another year older,” Aileen said. She forced a bright smile. “I never intended to live to see my ninety-seventh birthday. Good Lord, I’ve lived far too long.”
“You’re the youngest ninety-seven-year-old I’ve ever met,” Ian said with a smile. “Look at you. You’re still writing, still active.”
“That’s lovely of you to say, but it doesn’t make this old body of mine feel any younger.” Aileen laughed softly. “In my mind, I’m still a young woman. When I look in the mirror these days, I barely recognize myself. I wish I could have some of those years back.”
“You’ve led a full life, Miss Quinn. An important life. Your books have meant a lot to so many people. You’re one of Ireland’s most beloved novelists.”
“And yet, I’m searching the ends of the earth for a family, desperate to give myself a legacy beyond my books. I could have had my own family if I hadn’t put my work first.”
Ian had found the descendants of two of her brothers—Tomas’s family near Brisbane, Australia, and Conal’s family in Chicago in the U.S. But it had been five months since he’d brought good news about the other two. She’d planned a festive family reunion for the holidays at Ballyseede Castle, leasing out the entire castle and its twenty-two bedrooms. She wanted the rooms full.
“What do you know of Diarmuid so far?” Aileen asked.
“We’ve come across a clue in a 1945 Canadian census. The age seems to be right and the individual lists his birthplace as Ireland. His name is registered as Dermot, but that is the anglicized version of the Gaelic name. Sometimes the census takers didn’t always get a spelling correct.”
Aileen leaned forward in her chair. “That does sound hopeful.”
“If this Dermot is the one, he settled on Cape Breton, worked as a fisherman and had three sons. The eldest, Alistair, died in the Second World War. The next son, Brian, or Buddy, as he was known, died about five months ago, a bachelor. And the youngest, Paul, died about eight years ago. His son, Rourke, is the only heir.”
“Rourke?”
“From our research, that’s his mother’s maiden name. She was quite a bit younger than her husband and has since remarried.”
“When will we know for sure if Dermot is Diarmuid?” Aileen asked.
“It’s difficult to say. But we’re getting closer. I have a genealogist in Halifax who will be traveling to Cape Breton this week to check the records and ask some questions. Hopefully someone will remember something about Dermot.”
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