Cara O'Shea's Return Read Online Free PDF

followed as Cara made her way across the dance floor to find a seat at Mary O’Shea’s side. Though her tension was evident, he enjoyed the unconsciously sensual movement of Cara’s curvy body in the incredible, pale yellow bridesmaid’s dress she wore.
    Even from a distance, the smile she gave her mother appeared strained. She tucked the youngest of Shan’s boys to her side, nuzzling his flushed cheeks. Brian laughed and tried to squirm from her hold, but the affection between aunt and nephew was evident.
    Finn’s gaze swung to Tom, standing at the bar. The older man watched Cara as well. Focused on his middle daughter, a wistful sadness clouded his eyes.
    While Finn wasn’t privy to the details surrounding the rift between Cara and Tom O’Shea, the reason for their estrangement was common knowledge around Palmerton. Erin and Shan seemed to have moved beyond Tom’s infidelity, coming to terms with their parents’ four-year-old divorce, and Tom’s second marriage. Obviously, Cara hadn’t.
    The memory of the tears shimmering in her beautiful eyes before she’d fled the rehearsal dinner bothered him. He hardly knew the woman, but her distress stayed with him, long after the party wound down.
    Of their own accord, his eyes sought her out once again. She was a puzzle he wanted to get his hands on, but since his own divorce, he had a self-imposed policy against becoming involved with anyone or anything even resembling long term. And despite her party girl looks and bunny-of-the-month body, Tom O’Shea’s daughter reeked of permanence.
    Joining Cara when the band called for the wedding party’s first dance, he found himself searching for a temporary loophole in his policy.
    ****
    Cara slid into Finn’s embrace, and he guided her about the dance floor with flawless ease. She should have known he’d be a graceful dancer. His fluid moves on the gridiron were legendary. She had watched them most of her life.
    Eventually, the gentle sway of the music relaxed her, and she began to enjoy the dance, until he drew her closer to avoid bumping into the newlyweds. She immediately stiffened her shoulders, but if he noticed her reaction when her body brushed against his from breasts to thighs, he ignored it. He held her close and spun them away.
    When he ducked his head to nuzzle her hairline, she decided he had noticed. He took full advantage by murmuring in her ear. “You smell great.”
    She gritted her teeth. “Back off, Finnegan.”
    Her attempt to put some distance between them, by pushing at his shoulder, gained no results. He held her tight.
    “Lighten up, O’Shea. It was a compliment. I like your hair down.” He tilted his head to peer into her eyes as he rumbled his absurd comment. “The way you wore it last night.”
    Mere inches separated her face from his and her lips tightened in annoyance. Did he actually expect her to respond to that? Stick to the plan, Cara. Ignore him. She stared blankly over his shoulder.
    “All those wild curls beg a man to sink his fingers in to see if they’re as soft as they appear.”
    Her mouth twitched with the need to respond. Okay, maybe someone who’d spent his life being slammed to the ground by three-hundred pound behemoths wasn’t capable of reading the subtleties of body language. He probably had his brain scrambled so often he needed verbal cues to understand not all women appreciated his brand of juvenile machismo.
    “You know, Finnegan,” she spoke nonchalantly, staring straight ahead as though he didn’t bother her at all. “There are medications that can help lessen the mental complications of brain damage from repeated concussions. Someone in the front office of the NFL should be able to give you the name of a doctor who can prescribe them.”
    He chuckled, and she made the mistake of shifting her eyes back to his. They twinkled with mirth above a bright, white smile. The riotous fluttering in her belly brought a slight rush of nausea. Dismayed to discover