Chapter Two
The police showed up not long after that, and Carly was relieved to hand the girl’s assailants off to them. The girl herself, an Emily Tavan, was handed off to her very grateful parents, who insisted that Carly come to their home for a proper thank you sometime soon.
Carly was more than happy to have everyone safe and sound—or imprisoned, as the case might warrant—but when she finally stood alone again outside the police station, she could feel her knees knocking. The sun, so pleasant before her encounter, now seemed almost glaringly hot, and she blinked at the spots in front of her eyes. The ground was rushing towards her, and she just had a moment to realize that that was very bad when suddenly she felt herself hugged in a pair of very strong arms.
“Oh, poor darling,” said the man who had rescued her. “Are you feeling all right?” She started to answer, but then he had lifted her off of her feet and was carrying her princess-style across the small parking lot. Carly was slightly disturbed that her first instinct was to nuzzle her face against the sleek fabric of the man’s suit, or perhaps she was disturbed because she wasn’t disturbed. Feebly, she pushed against him.
“Look, just because you stopped a girl from getting kidnapped doesn’t mean that you get to kidnap her yourself,” she protested, and he glanced at her, a glint of humor in his gray eyes.
“Oh, is that what I’m doing? I thought I was trying to get you somewhere dim and cool.” Dim and cool sounded amazing just then, and she didn’t protest when he set her gently in the passenger side seat of his Mercedes. The seats were blessedly cool leather, and then he turned the air conditioning on high. For what felt like forever but was likely just a few minutes, Carly let the frigid air fan across her face, her eyes closed.
When she finally felt human enough to speak, she sat up, glancing at the man next to her ruefully.
“I guess I should have taken the suggestion of a medic a little more seriously, huh?” she asked and the man laughed a little bit.
“A little scrapper like you? I’m surprised you didn’t try to make off with those men’s heads for your wall.”
“I was terrified out of my wits,” Carly found herself admitting. “I’m not really a scrapper or anything like that. If I had thought very long about what I was doing, I might have just called the cops.”
“Brave isn’t what you are, it’s what you do,” the man said with a shrug. “In my book, you’re brave.”
“I didn’t thank you for the help in there, did I?” she asked. “You showed up right in the nick of time.”
“Well, I have a habit of doing that,” he said cheerfully. “And my name is Donovan, by the way. Who do I have the honor of addressing?”
Carly had to laugh at herself. “All that we’ve been through together, and I didn’t even give you my name? It’s Carly.”
“Well, Carly, now that we’ve been introduced, what do you say to some lunch? That’s where I was going when Emily Tavan flagged me down, and after all that excitement, I could certainly use something to fill my belly.” Carly started to demur, even if there was a part of her that cried out against it. She was tired, she was still shaky from what had happened, and she wanted to find her grandmother’s cottage before things took another unexpected turn.
Those were all good reasons to get out of the mysterious Donovan’s car, but just as she opened her mouth to express that, her stomach rumbled, a grumbling sound that seemed to echo in the car.
“Well, that settles it, I guess,” she said with a helpless laugh. “Lead the way.”
“I know just the place,” he said with a wink.
As he pulled onto the street, Carly wondered at the butterfly wings that seemed to be beating a mile a minute in her belly. She was definitely too old for schoolyard crushes, so why did looking at Donovan make her heart flutter?
***
The Goat and Compass was a small and unassuming pub slightly off the main drag. Carly would have likely walked right past it if she had been wandering on her own. From the plain exterior and the faded sign—a goat leaping over a compass rose—she might have thought it a slightly shady place to get a meal.
Donovan walked in with confidence and took a seat at a booth in the back.
“You’re sure you’re not kidnapping me?” Carly asked, only half joking, and he smirked. To her surprise, he eyed her up and down before looking her in the eye again.
“If you were in to that, I suppose I could be convinced. I could take you all the way to Dublin where I keep house, or perhaps to London if you prefer that.”
She laughed a little, suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands.
God, I need to get a grip, she thought to herself.
Carly realized that she was likely still shaken up after everything that had happened before. At the very least, that was a handy excuse.
Donovan didn’t seem to notice her concern. Instead, he got the attention of the woman dishing food out to the other patrons, who Carly saw were all rather rough-looking local men. They glanced over, and to her surprise, they gave Donovan friendly nods that he returned.
“Two bowls of mutton stew, and if it’s fresh, a half-loaf of soda bread, Marilee.” The older woman snorted.
“Bite your tongue,” she retorted. “You know it’s always fresh.” Donovan laughed easily, and Carly glanced at him.
“London and Dublin, and yet you come here often enough to know everyone by name?”
He tipped her an amused eye. “Are you surprised that I’m not some kind of snob, or are you telling me that you are?” he asked.
Carly caught herself blushing and ducked her head slightly. “Neither,” she said. “I guess I was just a little surprised that you paid attention to such things. Most men like you don’t.”
He leaned back in the booth, and she realized that he was assessing her. His gaze was still warm, but there was a speculative quality to it. It made her rather think of a lion intent on cutting a gazelle from the herd.
“I think I’ll pass over being offended by that and simply say it to you straight. There are no men like me, but I believe I have plenty of quarrel with the ones who made you think that. What’s your story, pet?”
Carly had typically had very little patience for men who called her by little pet names as soon as they met her, but there was something different about Donovan.
He listens, she realized. Other men waited, patiently and sometimes not even that, for their own turn to talk, and it could never come soon enough. By contrast, Donovan was turned towards her, all his attention focused on what she was saying.
Still she hesitated for a moment, and then she shrugged. Perhaps the fear earlier had given her bravery.
“There’s not much to tell, really,” she said. “I was born in Cincinnati, I grew up in Chicago, I spent some time in Boston, in Philadelphia, all along the east coast, really. I’ve got a business degree, but mostly these days I’ve been getting gigs as personal assistants and things like that. Administration.”
He gave her a considering look. “That’s strange.”
“Oh? They don’t have personal assistants in this part of the world?”
“Well, here, when people ask you for your story, most of the time, they’re asking for your people. Who are you when you are at home, who your folks are and who you know.”
She hesitated. It was on the tip of her tongue to laugh at him, and then to change the topic. It was shockingly personal, and in some ways, it felt like a challenge. She raised her chin slightly, meeting his eyes across the table.
“My parents are dead. Car accident when I was seventeen. I lived with an aunt who never liked me much.”
Donovan looked saddened, and he nodded. “I lost mine as well,” he said, his voice deeper and more somber. “Mother to cancer when I was just a child, father just four years ago. It’s an ache that does not go away, but I like to think they would be pleased with what I have done.”
“What have you done?” she asked, and then she blushed at how challenging it sounded. “I mean, I know you rescue girls in alleys. But I understand that it’s hard to do that professionally.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, I was thinking of taking it up,” he said with a grin. “But truthfully, I’m in real estate development. I suppose you could say that what I do is that I see potential. I look at land and property that might be sitting empty or abandoned, and then I give it new life.”
His speech was interrupted by the woman, Marilee, coming to set two bowls in front of them. It was a brown stew, chunky with meat, carrots and potatoes. There was a delicious smell coming from it that made Carly’s mouth water, and she could barely wait for Donovan’s to get set down as well before she started eating. It was still hot enough that she would burn her tongue if she wasn’t careful, but it was so good she was not sure if she cared at all.
“Do you like it?” Donovan asked, and she smiled at him.
“It’s delicious. I can see why you might come from Dublin or London if you get this regularly.”
“It’s the Goat and Compass’s special, a lamb stew. The way Marilee tells it, the recipe’s not changed for more than a hundred years. This place has been around for twice as long, so I wouldn’t doubt it at all.”
She ate the food with delight, finally slowing down after the first rush of hunger to savor the richness of the dish. There was also the bread to eat as well, a dark bread that smelled faintly sweet and spicy. She wasn’t sure what to expect from something called ‘soda bread,’ but the bread itself turned out to be lovely, dark and firm, and studded with raisins.
When she saw Donovan reach for his wallet, she tried to stop him, but he waved her away with a careless gesture.
“You may still be trying to assert yourself over in the States, but here in Ireland, men still know how to treat their women.”
The wink he gave her was wickedness personified, and she blushed before she regained herself.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, trying to recover some dignity.
“Oh? Are you sure? If you ask nicely, I am certain that I can offer you a lesson or two, pet.” She reminded herself that she really didn’t know anything about Donovan. He was handsome, he was charming, and at the very least, he certainly knew where to get good food, but at the end of it, he was a stranger, and she was in a foreign country.
Carly kept her comments quick and slightly curt as he drove her back to her car. It felt just a little like closing the barn door after the horse was already out, but the slight distance between them helped calm her. It reminded her that she was still in control of the situation. Some strange part of her cried out at any kind of separation from Donovan, but she didn’t understand it. He had done something kind for her, but it was nothing more than that.
He got her back to her car, and to her surprise, the sun was already beginning to set.
He glanced at the sky, starting to show streaks of orange and lavender, and seemed to read her mind.
“Where are you staying?” he asked. “If you’re new in town, perhaps you ought to come stay with me.”
“Oh, well, do you own the hotel too?” It came out lighter than she had thought it would, easy and teasing, and he grinned.
“No, not yet,” he said, and Carly wondered if there was any truth behind that statement. “But I am renting a house. It’s not far.”
“I don’t think that I would be interesting enough to keep your attention all night,” she said without thinking about, and suddenly he was closer than he had been before, so close his chest was nearly touching hers.
She stared, frozen, as his hand raised up to touch her chin ever so lightly. Even that gentle touch made her shiver, and gasping a little, she looked up into his eyes.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen eyes like yours before,” he murmured. “And if you need to ask what I might do to keep myself entertained.” Instead of telling her his answer, Donovan tipped her head back for a kiss instead.
The first brush of his lips over hers, sent a shock wave of pleasure through her, and startled, she grasped him by the arms, hanging on for dear life. It encouraged him wrap his arms around her, holding her still as his kiss went deeper.
Donovan kissed her as if he had all the time in the world, as if the earth itself would stop spinning for his pleasure alone. She shook when his tongue parted her lips, sliding into her mouth as if it belonged there.
I never knew that it could be like this, she thought hazily. She had been kissed before, certainly, but those kisses had never shaken her to her very core, making her yearn for something she couldn’t name.She was aware of the car door behind her, the sweet weight of his body pressing her against it. His hand came up to brush sweetly against her cheek as he kissed her, and she leaned into it. Carly was certain she had never felt the way she did now.
Alive, I feel alive, she thought, and the thought itself was so surprising to her, so shocking, that she reached up, pressed her hands against his shoulders and pushed.
To Donovan’s credit, he responded immediately, and the expression his face almost made her stutter. There was something so hungry there that she wanted nothing more than to throw herself back into his arms. Then he composed himself again, shaking his head slightly.
“I’ll ask again. Will you come home with me?”
“I... No. I can’t.”
He was a stranger. She had just met him, even if he had possibly saved her life. Those were all good reasons to stay away, but a part of her sighed after him.
“All right then, pet. I wish you well.”
This time, the kiss was a gentle peck to her cheek, but her skin still tingled where he touched. Carly got in her car and watched as Donovan got back into his Mercedes. She watched him drive away, and she didn’t come back to herself until he was gone.
If this was what her first day in Loch Naine was like, how in the world would the rest of her visit go?