Anna

Sleep had escaped me most of the night. Instead, I had listened to every little sound—the noise on the street, the rumbling of cars . . . even in the middle of the night.

But mostly, I had listened for Adam.

It was finally morning, and so I opened my door to go to the bathroom, blowing out a sigh of relief when I noticed his door shut. I crept up to his room and pressed my ear to it, but didn’t hear anything. He was either gone or not the snoring type.

I hurried into the bathroom, locked it, and then attempted to tame the mess of my hair. But I couldn’t help but notice the scents of spice and soap throughout the room. I searched them out like one of my uncle’s hunting greyhounds scenting a coyote.

I decided to play up my eyes with some brown eyeliner and mascara. A touch of pink to my lips was the final stop. I wasn’t doing it in case I saw Adam, I reasoned.

When I finished, I slowly opened the door, worried he’d be standing there again at the end of the hall.

I glanced over my shoulder at Adam’s room, and the door was open. A new sense of panic flooded through me. I wondered if I’d be able to handle round two of conversing with the secretive sexpot.

I paused mid-step when I spotted Adam. He was wearing navy sweats, which hung low on his hips, exposing the black band of his undershorts. But it was his naked back, and the hard planes of muscle thereon, that made me hold my breath.

He had a tattoo on the back of his right shoulder that took up the entire shoulder blade. It was Celtic, I assumed—a black crisscrossed pattern with a thick cross in the middle.

I tried not to move. I didn’t want him to know I was there.

His arm was propped up at the top of the refrigerator door as he studied the inside. I noticed another tattoo on the inside of the arm that hung casually above his head, but I couldn’t make out what it was.

I started to turn, ready to tuck myself back into the safety of the bedroom, but it was too late. He glanced back at me over his shoulder and shut the fridge. “Mornin’.” He pressed his back to the counter by the stove and crossed his arms, studying me.

I released a slow breath at the sight of his muscular, perfect chest. His pecs reminded me of smooth, carved granite, and I had to fight the impulse to run my fingers over them. Would he feel like the statue of David? Of course, I’d never exactly even caressed a replica statue, let alone the real one, so how would I know?

He’s just a man, I reminded myself.

“Good morning.” I think that’s what I said, although I’m not sure if my mouth opened or I only thought the statement. He cocked his head to the right and flashed me a shit-eating grin like he knew his half-nakedness was making me uncomfortable, and he didn’t care.

I twisted the fabric at the sides of my yellow V-neck sweater as I moved into the kitchen, hating how nervous I was, but unable to do anything about it. “Anything good to eat?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’ve been staring into the fridge hoping something would appear,” he said with a smile, “but I didn’t have any such luck.”

“Well, I guess I can go out for something.” My stomach growled loud enough to be heard, and my cheeks warmed.

He unfolded his arms and approached me. “Why don’t I take you to breakfast?”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Come on. It’s the least I can do after scaring ya to pieces last night.”

“Um.” I wasn’t sure what to say, but spending a little more time with this guy would be kind of nice. “Okay.”

“I best get dressed. Give me a sec.” He walked past me, and I was proud of myself for not gawking at him as he left. Then I grabbed my purse and slipped on a pair of black boots over my black denim skinny jeans. I hoped it wasn’t too chilly outside.

I heard Adam’s door open a few minutes later.

He came out wearing jeans and . . . still no shirt. He paused and looked over at me before putting on the Polo he had been carrying in his hand. “So, how about I take you to one of Dublin’s best places?”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. Don’t make a fuss over me.”

“I insist. And I said best place, not fancy.” His seductive mouth curved into a smile as he opened the door, motioning for me to exit first.

“Thanks.”

We made our way down the metal staircase, which was like a spiral ribbon at the center of the building. When Adam opened the door and stepped back, allowing me to exit, the light, filmy mist in the air greeted my skin. There was a row of apartments on the opposite street, piercing through the fog like creatures, slowly rising from the dead.

The streets were a little less crowded than they had been last night, and I wondered if everyone was tucked inside a church, seeking forgiveness for their Saturday night sins. Of course, as Adam and I walked in silence past a gray cathedral church, with stained glass windows depicting the Virgin Mary at the center, I remembered that most Irish people were Catholic. Didn’t they have mass on Saturday?

I squinted as I looked up at the sky. The morning sunlight was hidden behind a blanket of soft, gray, rolling clouds, confirming my concerns. Rain looked inevitable—I made a note to buy an umbrella today.

I took in the multicolored buildings as we walked. Dublin appeared to be a blend of old and new—from burned, red-brick buildings to ones that gleamed modernity. I was far from Kentucky, that was for sure.

More people emerged onto the sidewalk as Adam led me to breakfast. The chattering voices of friends and couples as they plodded along next to us, the good-natured slaps on the back, filled the silence that hung as thick and heavy as the fog between Adam and me.

Would he ever talk? Then again, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to.

I stole a glimpse of him as he rounded a corner, gesturing with his hand to an arched gate across the street. He was tall, probably a little over six feet, and he carried himself well. His shoulders and spine were erect, but he had a casual grace about him as he moved. He was confident, that was for sure, and he knew he was good looking. Was he arrogant, too?

“We’ll cut through the park,” he suggested, and I trailed at his heels as we approached the arched entrance, which was covered in dark green ivy. On each side of the curved gate were pops of apricot-colored chrysanthemums, which I recognized from my older sister’s wedding last year.

The whisper of autumn was enchanting as we moved beneath the orange, gold, and red-leaved trees of the park. I’d also never seen so many bunnies in all my life. The rabbits were clustered in packs all over the park. I remembered seeing them in the grass just outside the tarmac at the airport when my plane had arrived, too. Was Dublin filled with bunnies?

I sucked in the cool, refreshing air—a nice change from Kentucky in September.

“What do you think of Dublin so far?”

I looked over my shoulder at him as we continued walking. His eyes seemed a paler shade of blue today.

“It’s fantastic. Is it always cloudy, though?”

He laughed, and I found his deep and throaty laughter incredibly sexy. There was always something I loved about a guy who could laugh, and who could make you laugh.

“More days than not, I suppose.”

We ducked under a low hanging branch, and his hand on my shoulder made me flinch.

“Sorry. There was a leaf.”

I swallowed, not sure why I was acting so on edge. Just enjoy Dublin, I commanded myself.

Wow. Dublin.

I’d really done it, hadn’t I? I was here!

“I like your smile.”

I hadn’t realized my lips had gathered into a grin. When my eyes landed on Adam, however, he was already looking away from me and down the brick path that led from the garden to the street.

“This place hasn’t been open long, and it’s one of the best kept secrets in Dublin.” He crossed the street, where cars drove down the opposite lanes as in America. I’d almost forgotten about that until I’d gotten inside a cab yesterday at the airport.

I followed after him, noting the number of motorbikes. There were a lot more than in the U.S., and they weren’t like the big Harleys at the small biker bar that lurked on the outskirts of my town. No, these almost looked like upgraded bicycles. They were compact and colorful—milky blue, bright red, blazing orange. I wanted one the more I thought about it.

I jaywalked like Adam, fanning away a puff of smoke as a bus zoomed past in front of me.

Adam stood in front of a set of steps, his hands clasped, his eyes on me. On each side of the door were two black statues of Dobermans. There was no sign and no name on the door. Was Adam playing a joke on me? Was this someone’s house?

“Come on.” He touched my back, and the gesture should have felt odd—too intimate for someone I had just met—but it didn’t. I put my trust in him and allowed him to lead the way.

“This was a hotel before it was renovated and converted to an exclusive member’s club.”

“Oh. Do you have a membership?” The hall was dark as we entered, and I still saw no signs of life. Maybe I was out of my mind for trusting this guy—maybe his name wasn’t even really Adam. What if Leslie really had been a woman and he killed her . . . and now I was next?

My skin started to crawl, and I began to rehearse my defense. Knee to groin, scream, run away. I had taken a few self-defense classes this summer. Would that be enough?

“It’s open to the public now,” he said as he opened one more door. I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of people. Normal looking people, instead of a cult of serial killers.

Calm the hell down.

But when I scoped out the crowd of people gathered in the room, which had a wall with shelves upon glass shelves of multicolored alcohol bottles on it—I had to wonder why we were at a bar at ten in the morning.

“Do they serve food here? Or do ya’ll drink beer for breakfast?”

A low rumble sounded from his lips as we made our way to one of the only empty tables near the back of the large room.

“We do eat—we’re not all a bunch of drunks like your American movies make us out to be.”

“Oh. I’m sorry—”

“Just kidding, love.” He smirked. “But we really do have leprechauns,” he said, exaggerating his accent, and then gave me a wink.

I laughed this time.

“Have a seat.” Adam pulled out a chair, and I nodded my thanks for the gesture as I sat down.

“What do you recommend?”

“There’s only one option—they’ll just bring it to the table.”

“Oh. How interesting.” I clasped my hands on the brown walnut table and glanced around. The high ceilings were decorated with strands of what looked like twinkling green Christmas lights, all weaved between the beams. The long bar spanned across the one side of the room and two dozen tables crammed together opposite of it, maximizing every bit of available space.

“So, what makes this place so special?”

“No tourists.”

My cheeks burned, and I chewed at my lip, worried about how I’d keep up with him through the course of breakfast.

He tapped his fingers on the table and looked up as a woman approached. She had large green eyes and flowy red hair—the quintessential Irish lass. Or was that Scottish? I wish I’d had more time to research before I’d come here, but everything had happened so fast. The waitress directed her attention at Adam and propped her hands to her hips. “A sight for sore eyes. Where have you been these days?”

“Been busy, as always.” Adam leaned back in his seat and pointed to me. “Elise, this is Anna. She just got in from the U.S.”

The woman slapped her hand on my back and nodded my way. “You just got here and you already landed yourself a man like Adam?” Elise smiled and nudged me in the shoulder. “He’s a keeper.”

Why did I feel like she was trying to convince me to date him? I wasn’t here to fall in love. Or even have a fling. Hell no.

“You want some red lemonade?” Elise asked me.

“Um, sure. Sounds great.”

Adam shook his head and grinned at the waitress. “Funny, Elise. It’s a bit early to be pumping whiskey in her, don’t you think? Besides, I want her to like this place.”

“If you say so.” Elise nodded.

“The usual is fine instead,” Adam noted before Elise left our table.

“Whiskey?” I blurted, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of having spiked lemonade for breakfast. Although, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have something to help me loosen up.

He angled his head and placed his hands palms up, his eyes beholding mine like he had just staked his claim. “A bunch of drunks,” he said, and chuckled.

Was it hot in here? I started fidgeting with the cotton material of my sweater, pulling it farther from my belly button.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed. “Just nervous about my first day of work tomorrow. I wish I had a little more time to get to know Ireland before I start.”

I hadn’t expected to even get the job—or any of the ones I applied to, for that matter. It had been weeks since I’d applied to several positions, and I hadn’t heard a peep from any of them. Then, just over a week ago, I got the call. I wasn’t sure if I was a last minute add, or if some other candidate had fallen through, but I’d take it.

Adam looked so casual sitting across from me, his hands tucked in his lap and his back relaxed against the broad oak chair. “And what is it that you’ll be doing?” His attention shifted momentarily to Elise and the waiter at her side. Elise positioned two plates on the table, while the other waiter placed OJ and tea in front of us, as well.

“That was fast.” My eyes bulged in shock at the amount of food before me. Fried eggs, sausage, bacon, vegetables, some white pudding thing, and thick slices of brown bread dripped in creamy deliciousness. Holy hell! I wouldn’t be able to walk once I was done eating.

Elise laughed. “You know the saying, right? ‘Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dine like a pauper.’ Well, I’m pretty good at the breakfast part. Still working on the whole wee bit of dinner, though.”

“I’ll be working on that forever. I like all of my meals like this.”

Was he joking? There was no way he ate like this all of the time. He was fit enough to have trained for the Olympics or something. I hadn’t noticed an ounce of body fat on him. And I had studied his damn back, chest, and arms more than I had any right to.

“Enjoy.” Elise patted Adam on the back and walked off to another table.

“Shall we dig in?” He perked a brow and lifted his fork and knife, his blue eyes on me.

“Yes, please.”

The greasy, fried food made me feel like I was in my mother’s kitchen, although the majority of the time she was a complete health nut. She only cooked like this on Sundays, but she never did anything halfway.

He chomped on a piece of bacon that he held between his fingers. Somehow, he made even eating bacon look sexy. How was that possible? “So, you never got a chance to answer my question.” He finished his bacon and took a sip of OJ.

I wiped my greasy hands on my linen napkin and focused my attention on him and away from the food I wanted to continue to devour. But I was never one to talk with food in my mouth. “I graduated recently with a degree in marketing and a minor in finance. I’m thinking about getting my MBA, eventually, but I want to make sure the business world is really what I want. Plus, I’m loaded down with student loan debt.” I shrugged. “So, for now, I’m going to be interning at a company here.”

“Why Ireland?”

“I, um, applied to companies all over the world—I needed—wanted . . . to get away. I’ve never even been outside of Kentucky before.”

He smiled at me. “Well, Ireland is a grand choice. Where will you be working?”

“MAC—and not as in Apple. Although I heard a lot of the big companies have locations here now. Even Facebook.” I waved my hand. “Anyway, I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it. McGregor Advanced Communications. It’s a division of the McGregor Enterprises.”

Adam started to cough, and he brought his fist in front of his mouth.

“You okay?” I started to rise, wondering if I’d need to employ the Heimlich Maneuver.

He motioned with his other hand for me to stay seated. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke.

I toyed with the napkin on my lap as he took a sip of his drink. When he looked up at me, his eyes were a little watery.

“So, do you know if they are any good?” I pressed.

“Mm. I heard the owners are real pricks.”

“What?” I gasped. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “Sorry. That’s all I know.”

“Oh. Well, I doubt I’ll ever meet the owners. I’m not even sure if my office building is the same one as the corporate headquarters.” I wet my lips but couldn’t find it in me to eat anything else. Reality was settling in.

“I read online that the McGregor family are into a little bit of everything. They even own an Italian soccer team. Or, I guess you guys call it football, right?” I was rambling now.

He snapped another piece of bacon in half and looked at me. His eyes crinkled around the edges as he smiled. “Aye, football.”

“So you know about Italian football?”

He popped his shoulders up in an innocent manner, giving me somewhat of a school boy look. It was the same look my younger brother would give me whenever he was keeping secrets. “I keep up with sports.”

“So why does an Irish—”

“—team own an Italian one?” he finished for me. “Beats the hell out of me.” He tossed his napkin on his plate. How had he finished that whole meal so quickly?

Then it dawned on me how rude I was being. “I’m sorry, I haven’t even asked what you do.” My eyes flitted to the watch on his wrist, and I wondered if he was well off. The watch looked expensive with its cream face and silver band.

He kept his eyes on me but remained quiet, which prompted me to tease, “What? Is that a tough question?”

Adam rubbed a large hand down his chin before his fingers settled on his chest and drummed over his heart. I couldn’t take my eyes off his tan fingers as they moved. “I don’t do anything all that exciting.”

I pressed my hands to the table next to my heaping pile of barely touched food. “Oh come on. You gotta give me more than that.” I pushed back in my seat, tilted my head, and narrowed my eyes at him, pleased by my sudden lack of tepidness. Acting bold—that was a point for the “things I never do” book. Scratch that—it was point three. Point one was coming to Ireland. And point two was sleeping under the same roof with a man I didn’t know!

Although that second point could very well go into the “stupid things I’ve done” column instead.

“Well. I’ll tell you more the next time I see you.”

“There’ll be a next time?” I hoped I didn’t sound too excited. Then again, I shouldn’t be spending any time with a guy while I was here. In fact, that was the exact opposite of what I needed.

He leaned in a little closer, and I tried not to swallow my unease. “If I tell you all my secrets now, how will I ever get you to see me again?”

“Hm. Your secrets must be pretty bad if telling them means I won’t want to see you again.”

His shoulders moved upright in time with his rich, velvety laughter. His white teeth flashed my way and wicked, unwanted feelings of desire zipped through me with full force.

Adam squeezed one eye closed for a second, eyeing me in a playful way. “You’re not all that you appear to be, are ya?”

“I guess you’ll have to see me again to find out,” I flirted.

Did I just say that? No. It wasn’t possible. I glanced over at my almost empty glass of OJ. Had Elise spiked my drink? Or was there something in the air that made everyone in Ireland a little bit feisty?

Maybe this trip would be exactly what I needed. Maybe I could recapture the confidence I’d lost in the last year.

“Damn.”

I wasn’t sure what made him curse until he slipped his hand beneath the table and pulled it back up with a vibrating cell phone. “I have to take this. I’m so sorry.”

I nodded. “Of course.” After all, it wasn’t like we were on a date.

“Hello,” he answered. “Okay. I’ll be right there.”

It was the quickest phone call I’d ever heard.

There was a tightness to his jaw as he stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He sat up a little as he reached for something else and produced a brown leather wallet. I noticed the first two initials—AF—engraved in silver. His thumb blocked the third letter. I wondered what his full name was . . .

“I’m so sorry, love. I have to leave.”

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

His brows pulled together as he tossed a few bills on the table. “Yeah, all is good.”

Although I didn’t know the man, I could tell he was lying. His posture had been relaxed, supremely confident. Now he had a stiff spine and a sudden cool, almost icy edge. He seemed . . . pissed, to say the least.

“Do you think you can find your way back okay? I’d take ya, but I’m afraid I should hurry.” I could tell it bothered him that he was abandoning me in the restaurant, but clearly someone—whoever had been on the other end of that phone call—needed his help.

“I’ll be fine. And thank you for breakfast. Tell Leslie to give me a call when he gets a chance, if you don’t mind.”

He tipped his head, his eyes becoming a stormy, darkish blue-gray. “I’ll be in touch, Anna.”

“But you don’t have my number—”

“No worries, love. I know where to find ya.”