on id="u32fd9c89-2096-5bb5-8b52-00bc92f7549f">
Rogan moved closer, until he could feel her body heat.
“I’ve no use for seers, Alison Blair. And even less for their servants.”
Aly swallowed hard and he could see the agitation suddenly take hold of her. Still she kept her gaze fixed on his. “I’m no one’s servant.”
“And yet here you stand at their beck and call.”
“It’s my duty.”
“And now you’ve done it and it’s past time for me to be doing mine,” he muttered thickly, grabbing her upper arm to steer her out of his house.
But as he touched her, something unexpected happened. Something dazzling. An arc of what could have been lightning jolted between them. White-hot heat – and something more – sizzled in the air and Rogan released her instantly.
He knew that sizzle and flash.
He’d felt it just once before.
For his Destined Mate.
But she had been dead for hundreds of years.
Maureen Child is a California native who loves to travel. Every chance they get, she and her husband are taking off on another research trip. An author of more than sixty books, Maureen loves a happy ending and still swears that she has the best job in the world. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two children and a golden retriever with delusions of grandeur.
Vanished
By
Maureen Child
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
To the Staunton family at Knight’s Cottage
Shanvallyard, Tourmakeady, Ireland.
Thank you for your warm welcome
and for making our stay in Ireland so memorable.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
In Ireland, two thousand people vanish every year.
The Irish countryside was quiet and the darkness was absolute, as it could only be far from the lights of a city. Here, beside the narrow road that led to Westport, the night felt empty, but for the squares of lamplight in the distance, marking the places where farmhouses stood in silence.
In the grassy field, ancient tombstones tipped and tilted crazily as if they’d been dropped from heaven and left to stand as they fell. Trees bent in the wind, and their bare limbs clattered like a muttered conversation. A fairy mound rose from the ground and lay littered with wildflowers that looked black and white in the starlight. A sigh of something ancient whispered in the darkness, and far away, a dog moaned into the quiet.
