The Lost

“You liked him.”

She nodded. “How could I not?”

“What’s more, he likes you. I can tell that you’re all he’d hoped you would be.”

“Not all, I’m afraid.” Her chin came up. “He’s hoping for a blood relative, a granddaughter, and that’s something I can never be.”

“You don’t know…”

She held up a hand. “It’s late, I’m tired, and this can go nowhere.”

As she started away, he clamped a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. “I just wanted to say…”

A look of astonishment crossed her face before it turned to anger. “Take your hand off me. Don’t you ever put a hand on me without permission.”

He lifted both hands in a sign of surrender. “Sorry. Reflex.”

“So is a slap across the face, which is what you’ll get if you ever dare to do that again.” She took a step backward. “Good night, Ross.”

A dangerous smile teased his lips and crinkled his eyes, which only fueled her temper.

Before she could say a word, his hand shot out. The smile remained as he touched a finger to her cheek. Just a touch, but she felt the heat of it all the way to her toes.

“You have very soft skin, Aidan O’Mara.”

She was about to make a sharp reply when he dipped his head and covered her mouth with his.

She had every intention of slapping his arrogant face. But all her good intentions fled the moment their mouths mated. She was mesmerized by the feel of his lips on hers. By the hunger in his kiss that spoke to a like hunger in her. By the hands, strong and sure, that moved up and down her spine, pressing her to the length of him, testing, measuring. By the slow heat that built and built until she could feel it pulsing through her veins like liquid lava.

When at last he lifted his head, she stood very still, trying to get her bearings. Her head was spi

He looked equally stu

His deep, rich voice, with just the faint trace of brogue, washed over her. “Good night, Aidan. Sleep well.”

She watched in silence as he opened the door, stepped from the room and closed the door without so much as a backward glance.

She listened to the sound of his footsteps along the hall.

Only when his footsteps faded did she move, on trembling legs, to the bedroom.

She undressed and turned off the lights before walking to the windows. Dropping to the window seat, she stared down at the gardens, silvered with dew in the moonlight.

She drew up her knees as she sat, deep in thought. What had she gotten herself into? Nothing here was familiar. And yet nothing felt strange.

She ought to be feeling at loose ends, and yet she felt an odd sense of peace, as though she’d come home.

Home. Now, that was a joke.

It was all this luxury, she scolded herself. It would be very easy to get used to a life of such ease, and turn her back on the problems she’d left behind. But the debts would still be there when she returned. As would the unpaid taxes and insurance, and the medical bills, which would probably take a lifetime to pay.

Spying a movement in the garden, she watched as the two wolfhounds leapt from the shadows and scampered along a path. Trailing slowly behind was a tall figure.

Though still in shadow, she recognized him at once.

As she watched, Ross paused beside a stone bench and turned to look up at her window. Even though she knew he couldn’t see her in the darkness of the room, she ducked her head. A moment later, feeling foolish, she peered out the window, but he was gone.

She crossed the room and climbed into bed, determined to put him out of her mind. But try as she would, he was there, with that mocking smile, those piercing blue eyes. The press of his hand at her shoulder had brought a flood of anger. But that heart-stopping kiss had been her undoing, sending shock waves rippling through her.

Had it been a spontaneous gesture? Or had it been calculated to elicit exactly the emotions she was experiencing?

She had the feeling that there was nothing i

Still, worldly or not, he had no right to intrude in her private life, and even her sleep. Damn Ross Delaney, she thought angrily. He was certainly doing everything he could to keep this from being easy.

She’d envisioned a quick trip to Ireland, an overnight stay in a rustic lodge, and a doddering old man who would offer his apologies for wasting her time, while presenting her with a check for enough money to make a dent in her growing mountain of debt.

Now she would have to deal with a successful, sharp-minded old businessman who seemed genuinely fond of her, even if he was confused about her lineage.

Not to mention having to deal with the very handsome, very irritating self-appointed bodyguard, who was behaving as though she had deliberately come here to break the old man’s heart.

She touched a finger to her lips. She could still taste him. Could still feel the jolt when he’d put his hands on her, as though she’d dropped off the edge of the world into some strange new realm.

She found herself wondering if his reaction had been as volatile as hers. If so, there was bound to be a violent explosion of cataclysmic proportions before she took leave of this place.

Four

Aidan slept badly. Another reason, she thought, to resent Ross Delaney. Not that it was entirely his fault, but his touch had left her entirely too unsettled. Added to that were the strange dreams. Dreams of her mother and grandmother as young girls, dancing along the garden path with the wolfhounds, Meath and Mayo. They’d been close together, heads bent while sharing secrets, and when she’d tried to hear, they had climbed onto the dogs’ backs and disappeared high in the branches of the trees. But they had been so real, she woke from sleep, and found herself weeping furiously because she missed them so.

There had been way too many tears these past days. Time, she thought, to toughen up and get on with life.

As she showered and dressed, she renewed her determination to be perfectly honest with Cullen Glin. He’d been such a charming host, she owed him that much. It wouldn’t be easy, she realized. She’d begun to care about him, and hated the thought of bringing him any more pain.

Pain. She’d seen it in his eyes. Heard it in his voice when he spoke of having no kin. Still, she wasn’t responsible for his pain. She had her own to deal with.

There would be no dancing around the truth today. She needed to be candid and admit that she had come here out of curiosity, and for the promised money, because of the debts incurred during her mother’s long illness. No need to sugarcoat the truth.

Because she intended to be businesslike today, she wore her charcoal business suit and a simple white blouse. She took her time with makeup and hair, and noticed that her hands weren’t as steady as she’d like. No matter. It was time for complete honesty.

She descended the stairs and followed the sound of voices until she came to a su

Charity was chatting up Bridget, talking on and on about her father.

“Oh. Good morning.” Charity placed a bowl of fresh snapdragons in the center of the table. “Mr. Delaney instructed us to be as quiet as mice today. He thought you’d sleep ’til noon. Did we wake you?”