Dirty Beautiful Rich Part Three Read Online Free PDF Page B

shock, he found the very thought of another woman abhorrent. But how did he explain that in his past, he’d been with many women without actually really being with any of them.
    “Still,” she stretched as if they hadn’t just discussed something she was clearly uncomfortable with. “We need to go back. What time is it?”
    He looked at his watch. The watch that reminded him to never lose control.
    Which is essentially exactly what had happened tonight if he allowed himself to admit it.
    He grimaced and looked away from the timepiece. “Two am.”
    She groaned then laughed. “Okay. I’ll stop being so innocent if we get up and go. I don’t want to be driving up when she comes out with the dogs.”
    “You know,” he said, stroking the line of her lovely neck, then to her collarbone. “You don’t have to go for the walk.”
    She rolled in his arms, lifted her hand to his face.
    The intimate gesture stopped his breath and he held perfectly still, uncertain what to do.
    “Yes,” she said. “I do. I want her to like me and I want to know her.”
    Wasn’t this what he had intended? For her to come to Ireland, to stay in his castle, to meet his grandmother and to come to know his family well?
    Why the hell had he assumed he’d be able to keep her distant?
    Because he always had been able to keep women at a strong arm’s length before.
    But with each passing moment, it was becoming clear Julie Doyle was not other women. He’d known that. It was what had drawn him to her. But it had never occurred to him that her difference would have such a ground shaking effect on him.
    He liked it.
    Perhaps, that was the most terrifying part. He liked the way she shook the steady ground he had built beneath his feet.
    And that? That was not good at all.
    ***
    J ulie headed down the stone steps, gloved hands stuffed in her pockets. Her brand new boots were bright red and she wasn’t sure what to make of them. . . And the fact that whoever put them in her room knew she hadn’t slept there.
    In any case, she loved them. When she’d snuck into change there had been a pile of clothes. Merino wool leggings to go under her stretchy black jeans, a pair of black gloves, a creamy wool sweater that looked remarkably like Damian’s grandmother’s, and the pair of red Hunter boots.
    She’d hesitated for a moment, then thought of the heavy dew on the grass and the lowering clouds.
    Now, as she stepped onto the gravel, she was grateful. It was cold. Crazy cold, but also so beautiful it was spell binding. In the distance, a crack of yellow gold light was peering over the horizon.
    The sounds of many pairs of paws trotted towards her and she turned.
    Lady Clare was striding forward, still in tweed and wool, still looking completely at ease on the great estate. “You look ready for a proper walk now.”
    Julie smiled and tugged at her sweater beneath her imitation pea coat. “Thank you.”
    The dowager countess nodded. “Shall we?”
    And that was it. No niceties or chats.
    The older woman headed off with the dogs in tow.
    Presumably she was supposed to follow.
    Julie hid a yawn and jogged after them.
    Fifteen minutes later of companionable silence, Julie was rubbernecking again. She couldn’t help herself.
    To her right, there were jagged hills, covered in green, their faces so earthy, so bold. They had nothing on the Rockies for height, but somehow they spoke to her soul in a way the Colorado mountains had never done.
    To her left, there were stone fence encased fields plummeting down to the furious sea.
    Finally, she had to ask, “Is it always like that?”
    Lady Clare didn’t stop, but merely climbed a set of steps in one of the stone fences ahead of them. “Often, my dear. The Atlantic is a cruel lady. But we do have a few coves that are quite peaceful.” She tilted her head up and looked at the clouds. “And I do believe a storm is coming in. So, we shall have a short walk today on your behalf.”
    Julie had a funny feeling