They were the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen in her life, before, or since.įergus had barely stopped the car when Annie was out the door, flying toward Dougal, who’d stood and was walking with long-legged strides toward her, a huge smile on his handsome face. They were all of them in an equal mixture. They were neither green, nor gray, nor brown, nor blue. She could, she thought then (and now) do it for hours. When she’d been with him, she’d done it up close. Sometimes, when Isabella was feeling maudlin, she’d take out the photo frame she carried everywhere with her, she’d study Prentice’s picture and she’d try to determine the color of his eyes. Prentice was standing at the top, arms crossed on his wide chest, his beautiful eyes on the Jag. She’d been in the backseat of Fergus’s Jaguar and she’d been jumping around more than Mikey.ĭougal’s beat up old truck was in the drive.
The last time she’d come from America and approached this house, she’d not been in a limousine. She came out of her upsetting thoughts and realized they were approaching Fergus’s stately manor house. No, Isabella thought, this was not fun and exciting.
And Prentice was a widower with two motherless children facing a week’s worth of festivities as best man to his best friend whilst the girlfriend who’d heartlessly jilted him was maid of honor.
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