Her Irish Rogue

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Kate Hoffmann. Her Irish Rogue

HER IRISH ROGUE

Epilogue

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She felt wild, unrestrained… primal.

The night was all about instinct…and pleasure. The sounds of the ceremony seemed to fade into the distance as a haze of desire surrounded them both. Although the light wind reminded Claire they were outside, the stones and the darkness concealed them. They were alone. And Claire’s need for Will, for his touch, his taste, had taken control.

.....

“Welcome to the Ivybrook Inn, Miss O’Connor,” he said, glancing down at the credit card. “I’m Will Donovan.”

She nodded, then trudged up the stairs, her clothes dripping as she climbed. When he turned to tend to her bags, he found Sorcha leaning up against the doorjamb to the front parlor, clutching the bag of crisps to her chest and munching thoughtfully. “An American. Pretty thing, that,” she murmured, nodding toward the stairs. “I hear American girls are positively wild in the sack.”

.....