Irish Allure Read online
A book in the Emerald Isle Fantasies series.
Jillian is planning a wedding for the bride from hell—who suddenly decides to move the event to Ireland with less than a month to go. Lucky for Jillian, the groom’s brother is available to lend a hand.
Sexy, charming Fin clearly has more on his mind than just helping Jillian with the wedding. But she knows Bridezilla will not tolerate the hired help consorting with her future brother-in-law. Jillian can’t risk being blackballed, so it’s seriously hands off Fin, no matter how irresistible he is and how energetically he pursues her. If only Castle Tullamore weren’t so romantic—and if only she could stop tearing off his clothes every time she gets into that antique elevator with him.
Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!
A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
“I realize that this is your wedding, and of course we want it to be exactly what you want.” Jillian chose her words carefully, grateful the client couldn’t see her face over the phone. The last thing she needed was for Bridezilla to ramp up into uber-bitchy mode. “But everything we’ve planned is wonderful. Just last week you said it was going to be the perfect wedding.”
“I know what I said last week.” Marianna Carter adopted her most condescending tone, one that Jillian had become familiar with over the past year. She felt a headache coming on and opened her desk drawer, looking for painkillers. “And last week I believed it. But now that I know how attached Michael is to his home, I just have to respect that and his roots.”
With anyone else, Jillian would have found it amazing that a woman could be with someone for three years and never realize that he missed his homeland, but Marianna was totally self-absorbed. She closed the drawer and leaned her head on the desk. No, no, no. There was no way she could move a wedding for six hundred guests from New York to Ireland in three weeks. Besides, she had an inkling that this sudden change of mind had more to do with Karlie Foster’s Fiji wedding over the weekend than anything else.
“You know, Marianna, destination weddings are losing their cachet,” she began. “And if we move the wedding at this stage, a lot of the guests are going to be unable to come. Not to mention the society media we invited. Do you really want to risk a poorly attended wedding that gets no attention from the press? Plus, think of all the arrangements we’ve made—the flowers, the cake, the decorations. There’s no guarantee we could get the same services in Ireland. Especially at short notice.”
“Oh, that’s no problem,” Marianna burbled. “My father agreed to fly everyone involved in the wedding and all the guests over to Ireland and put them up. You’ll need to organize that.”
Fuck the painkillers, she’d need Scotch. A tank of it. What was she, a travel agent? “It’s not that simple,” Jillian protested. “Where are Michael’s family from? Are there enough hotels in that area to house all your guests? Are the grounds of his home big enough for the wedding?”
There was a moment of silence, and hope sprang in Jillian’s heart. Please let her be rethinking this. “No, I don’t think you understand, Jillian. We’re not going to get married in someone’s backyard. We’ll get married in a castle.”
A castle. “Is there a castle near Michael’s home? What’s it called?” And what were the chances that it would be available for a June wedding only three weeks away? Jillian reached for her notepad. She’d been given carte blanche for this wedding—maybe she could write a check and convince some bride and groom to move their wedding.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Jillian could practically see Marianna dismissively waving her hand. “There might be a castle near there. It doesn’t really matter. Just find a castle—something spectacular. Anyway, I have to go. I know you’ll take care of everything. It’s not really that hard, Jillian, the rest of the wedding is already planned. Just find a castle and move everything over there.” There was a click as Marianna disconnected the call, and Jillian sat there with her phone in her hand and visions of her business failing dancing in her head. Marianna could ruin her. No, she could destroy Jillian Baxter Events, and she would, if this wedding didn’t go perfectly.
She heard a knock, and looked up to see her assistant, Kate, standing in the doorway. “What did she want?” Kate asked.
Jillian sighed and stood. “We need to find an Irish castle.”
Early the next morning, Jillian and Kate huddled over a list of castles that had been turned into event centers, hotels, and/or were otherwise suitable for a wedding. There were well over fifty of them, and eleven had been crossed off. After some extensive online research, those had been deemed either too small or too isolated to cater to so many people.
“Okay,” Jillian said, eyeing the list. “Here’s what we do. You start calling the castles. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll have some availability. If not, ask for the names and contact details of the bride and groom booked for that day. If none of the castles can help, we call the happy couples and start offering them money.”
“Got it.” Kate sounded less than confident. “Thank God Ireland is ahead of us, time wise, or we’d lose part of the day sitting on our hands.”
“Yeah. In the meantime, I’m going to call the florist, the photographer, the videographer, the caterer, the baker—everyone, basically, and see what it’ll take to get this done.”
“Don’t forget the travel agent,” Kate reminded her. Jillian groaned, and the phone rang. Both women stared at it warily. “We don’t really have to answer it,” Kate suggested tentatively. “It’s still outside business hours.”
“Knowing our luck, it’ll be Marianna wanting to have her wedding on the moon.” Jillian picked up the phone. “Jillian Baxter Events, this is Jillian.”
“Jillian.” A smooth voice with a marked Irish lilt came down the line. “Michael Dunne here. How are you?”
Jillian blinked. She’d met Michael Dunne, Marianna’s fiancé, once, and that was it. “Ah, hello, Michael. I’m fine, thanks, and you?” Kate raised a brow at her, and Jillian grabbed a notepad and scrawled Michael Dunne on it, and then watched Kate’s surprise.
“I’m very well. Forgive me for calling outside of hours, but I thought you may have started early today.” His tone didn’t change, but the reference to Marianna’s demands was clear. “I thought you might need someone on the ground, so to speak, so I spoke with my brother. He’s offered his assistant to help you until you can get over to Ireland yourself.”
Jillian closed her eyes for a moment. Bless you, Michael Dunne. “That’s very generous of him, Michael. Normally I’d decline, but we’re working to a very tight schedule, so I’m going to accept gratefully.”
“Excellent. I’ll give you Fintan’s number and you can give him a ring.” Give him a ring? What the hell would I… “Oh, call him, yes. That would be wonderful.” She took down Fintan Dunne’s phone number and thanked Michael again before hanging up.
“Well?” Kate leaned forward. “What did he want?”
“He’s an angel, and Marianna doesn’t deserve him.” Jillian looked at the number on the pad in front of her. “His brother’s assistant in Ireland is going to help us out.” She punched in the number while Kate cheered and slumped back in her chair.
“Fin Dunne.” The voice was very similar to Michael’s except this time shivers ran down Jillian’s spine. It was deep and husky with that gorgeous Irish accent. “Hello?” A voice that was beginning to sound impatient.
“Mr. Dunne.” Jillian pulled herself together. “I’m Jillian Baxter, your brother’s wedd