The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

take care of you.” He lifted a hand to her cheek. “I can’t help it. I want to give you things and show you places, and to see you happy.”
    “You’re a kind man, Aidan,” she began.
    “It has nothing to do with kindness. I love you, Jude.”
    He saw her eyes change, and the fact that it was shock and wariness that came into them only showed him how far he’d gone wrong. There was nothing left to do but bare his heart. “I’m lost in love with you. I think I was the moment I saw you, maybe somehow before I ever did. You’re it for me. There was never one before, there’ll never be another after.”
    She felt a desperate need to sit down, but there was only the ground and it seemed much too far away. “I’m not sure . . . I don’t know. Oh, God.”
    “I won’t rush you the way I did before. I’ll give you all the time you need. I’m only asking you to give me the chance. I’ll settle things here, then come to Chicago. I can open a pub there.”
    She had to press a hand to her head to make certain it stayed on her shoulders. “What?”
    “If that’s where you need to be, that’s fine.”
    “Chicago?” It didn’t matter about her head now. Nothing mattered but the man gripping her hand and looking into her eyes as if everything in the world he wanted was centered there. “You’d leave Ardmore and come to Chicago?”
    “I’d go anywhere to be with you.”
    “I need a minute.” She tugged her hand free to walk to the garden gate, lean on it while she caught her breath.
    He loved her. And because of it he would give up his home, his legacy, his country to follow her. Not asking her to be what he wanted, what he expected. Because she was enough just as she was.
    And more, he was offering to be what she wanted. What she expected.
    A miracle.
    No, no, she wouldn’t think of loving and being loved in return just as strongly, just as deeply, just as desperately as a miracle. They deserved each other, and the life they would make.
    So she would just consider it right.
    She’d found Jude Murray, all right. And a great deal more.
    Her heart was steady when she turned back. Steady and quiet and calm. He didn’t quite know what to make of the little smile on her face.
    “You said you needed a wife.”
    “And I do, so long as she’s you. I’ll wait as long as you need me to wait.”
    “A year?” She lifted her brows. “Five, ten?”
    The knots in his stomach twisted like snakes. “Well, I’ll hope I can persuade you sooner.”
    Dreams took risks, she thought. And courage. Her deepest dream was standing, waiting for her answer.
    “Tell me again that you love me.”
    “With all my heart, with everything I am or will be, I love you, Jude Frances.”
    “That’s very persuasive.” With her eyes on his, she walked back down the garden path. “When I realized you were attracted to me, I thought I would have an affair, something hot and reckless and daring. I’d never had one before, and here was this big, gorgeous Irishman more than willing to cooperate. Isn’t that what you wanted, too?”
    “I did—thought I did.” Panic snuck back up on him. “Damn it, it isn’t enough.”
    “That’s convenient, because the trouble was—is—” she corrected, “I’m just not built for reckless affairs, not in the long run. So even before that first night, when you carried me upstairs, I was in love with you.”
    “ A ghra .” But when he reached for her, she shook her head and stepped back.
    “No, there’s more. I’m going back to Chicago, not to leave but to sell my condo and settle my business so that I can move here permanently. It wasn’t for you, and it still isn’t for you that I’ve chosen to do this. It’s for me. I want to write. I am writing,” she corrected. “A book.”
    “A book?” Everything in his face went brilliant, with a pride, she realized, that astonished her. And sealed everything. “That’s wonderful. Oh, it’s what you’re meant to do.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because just saying it makes you happy. It shows. And you’ve a lovely way of telling a story. I said so before.”
    “Yes,” she said quietly. “Yes, you did. You said it before I could.”
    “I’m so pleased for you.”
    “I’ve always wanted to, but I didn’t have the courage to do it, to even consider it. Now I do.” Now, she understood, she had the courage for anything. For everything. “I want to write, and I’m going to be good at it. I want to write here. This is