The Selkie Sorceress (Seal Island Trilogy, Book 3) by Sophie Moss Page A

in her veins. And he was bound to her now as a captain was bound to his ship. If one went down, so did the other. He was not afraid of the roses growing outside his cottage. What happened to Glenna’s lovers before was not happening to him. They had broken two curses on this island together.
    They would find a way to break this one. And he was certain— certain— Brigid was the key to unlocking all the clues.
    He was close enough now to spy the pale blue crystals that hung from Glenna’s ears. The hand that rested lightly on the strap of her purse was adorned in a variety of glittering gemstones. She had her armor back on, Sam mused. She opened her mouth to say something, and he gave into the instinct to lean down and plant his lips on hers.
    He felt her stiffen, and grabbed her arms before she stepped back off the edge of the pier. She let out a muffled protest, hooking a hand in the front of his T-shirt to keep from falling. He pulled her to him, deepening the kiss. When he finally let her go, she was out of breath.
    “Good morning,” he murmured huskily, easing her away from the edge of the pier.
    Glenna jerked the strap of her purse back up her shoulder. “Don’t do that again,” she warned, brushing past him. Her heeled boots clicked over the metal platform leading up to the ferry. Sam turned, watching the sway of her hips. He unhooked his sunglasses from the neck of his shirt and slid them onto his face.
    Searching Dublin hospitals for a Jane Doe wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured his first date with Glenna. And he had a feeling she wasn’t going to make this task any easier. In fact, he was fairly certain the only reason she was tagging along was to try and stop him. He nodded to Finn as he boarded the ferry, and the skipper raised an eyebrow at the spectacle on the pier. Sam smiled. Good thing he knew how to shift her focus.
     

     
    TARA STOOD AT the window of her cliff cottage, watching the ferry motor toward the mainland. A bouquet of dried lavender hung from a silver ribbon tied to a nail at the top of the window, and she breathed in the sweet floral scent. But it did little to calm her. She could feel the shift in the ocean; the change in the winds.
    Dominic had gone down to Sam’s to have a look at the roses. The door to the cottage creaked when he opened it. He walked inside, shutting the door behind him.
    Tara didn’t bother to turn. “Did you see them?”
    “Aye.” Dominic crossed the room to her. “I saw them.”
    Outside the window, Tara’s seashell chimes clinked in the wind. “How many?”
    “At least a dozen.”
    Tara closed her eyes. “They grew back.”
    Dominic came up behind her, settling his hands on her shoulders. He pulled her back gently against his hard chest. She could feel his heartbeat through his sweat-soaked shirt. The odor of earth and roses clung to his skin. “You’re sure there was only the one rose yesterday?”
    Tara nodded.
    He wrapped his arms around her waist. “There’s nothing underneath the plant.”
    “How far did you dig?”
    “Far enough. And there’s no use trying to cut roots. They’re as tough as iron.”
    “Did you see Sam?”
    Dominic shook his head. “He and Glenna are on the ferry, headed to Dublin.”
    Tara looked back at the ferry. Glenna and Sam would be in Dublin by mid-afternoon. The sea surged against the rocks far below, like a slow steady build days before a storm. The waters had finally risen, quenching the parched beaches. But the dried-out kelp and driftwood that had piled on the beaches for days floated off shore—a serpent-like tangle of debris.
    “Glenna knows something,” Tara said quietly. “I’m sure of it.” She turned in Dominic’s arms so she was facing him. “Why else would she go with him to Dublin?”
    “Sam has a knack for digging out truths. If she’s hiding something, he’ll find it.”
    “I’m sick of her leaving us in the dark.” Tara stepped out of his arms. She untied the apron around her waist