Dirty Beautiful Rich Part Three by Eva Devon Page A

really see many trees or mountains, do you?”
    “Um. . .” How did she phrase this. So far she’d seen a sloping hill that was maybe one thousand feet. Maybe. “Well, not mountains by Colorado standards.”
    Damian let out that sexy rumble of a laugh. “Do not let the locals ever here you disparage their mountains. They’re quite proud of them, but yes, by American standards, Ireland has only large hills. My point is though, that wind comes howling in off the Atlantic with nothing to stop it. The houses get beaten by it. And any plants close to the house. . .”
    “Will be beaten against the walls.”
    “Exactly.”
    So, the houses lived in little islands of their drives and hedges. Suddenly, she gasped and pressed her face to the window. “No way.”
    “What way ?”
    She ignored his slight emphasis on the last word but made a resolution to stop using such Americanisms right away. Being thought of something like a Valley girl or something similar was definitely not on her list of to dos. “I thought I saw. . . Never mind.” she shook her head. She had to have imagined it.
    “Come on now, don’t be afraid of saying the wrong thing. If you do, you’ll always be censoring yourself.”
    She glared at him. How did he say things like that? How did he know that she was always censoring herself. “Are you a closet therapist?”
    He grew silent for a moment. “I’m your own personal shaman. How about that?”
    A laugh rippled from her throat at the image of Damian dancing and chanting. Actually, it wasn’t such a bad image and played right into her fantasies about druids and romance novels.   “Only if you promise to remove your shirt when you remove my demons.”
    “Oh definitely. Tantric healing is by far the most superior of my skills.”
    She sputtered on her coffee. “I think I saw a palm tree,” she said quickly before they headed down the path of sex again. She’d loved every moment of last night with him, but in the light of day she was determined not to throw herself into anything too fast. After all, she wanted to believe she had some learning curve when it came to relationships and for all intents and purposes Damian was her boss.
    He nodded. “You probably did.”
    “What?” She gestured to the stone cottage flashing by. “This is Ireland!”
    “The jet stream brings up a warm front. So even if you’re freezing your bollocks off there’s something in the air warm enough that’s conducive to certain palms.”
    She shook her head and tried for another gulp of coffee and stared out the window. After a half hour and the scenery changing to the most glorious she’d ever seen, she couldn’t help asking. “So, how far now?”
    An incessant little chorus of nerves had started to sing in the back of her head. She was going to meet Damian’s family today. She was going to see the place where he’d grown up. Wasn’t that what couples did? Except, they weren’t a couple. They were a boss and an employee who’d managed to violate several generally promoted rules of behavior.
    “I hear it in your voice, you know.”
    “What?”
    “Your trepidation.”
    “I’ve never seen a castle, let alone stayed in one, or worked in one.”
    “Ah. It’s a glorious time for firsts.”
    And of course, her cheeks bloomed red. She wanted to scream at the unfairness of it. She wasn’t a total innocent. When would she learn to stop blushing? Today would be the most preferable but she and the horrible feeling that evidence of embarrassment was simply in her genetic makeup. Instead of acknowledging the first of
    “Less than an hour, beautiful. In fact. . .” The road curved and suddenly there out before her was a beautiful bay, white capped and on the far side a small city hugged the water.
    Her heart swelled in her chest. All around them was the wild countryside of Ireland but there, just across the water was a city of culture and music. She and her mom had researched the theater festivals and heard all