Anna

A soft breeze tore through the trees above me and a flurry of red and gold leaves sprinkled down. I brushed one off my shoulder, remembering that Adam had done that for me when we’d walked through the park.

Adam’s sporty motorcycle wasn’t in the parking lot, and I hadn’t seen him in the building so far today. I’d been slightly bummed at his absence. Although I knew that it was incredibly stupid to feel that way.

Why did I keep thinking about him? He wasn’t even close to my type.

Looks, yes. Because who didn’t love a tall, broad-shouldered guy with insanely blue eyes, dark hair, and—oh, God—the accent. My body shivered at the thought of his deep, silky voice. I’d been obsessed with the voice of the Irish ever since I’d landed, but no one had given me the kind of chills that Adam did whenever he spoke.

But, no—he wasn’t my type. For starters, he was my boss.

B.O.S.S. Four letters that were jammed full of meaning.

And how about another B word—billionaire. I didn’t necessarily have anything against money, and most of what I knew about the uber rich was from the media. But it seemed like the rich were always looking for the one thing they just couldn’t buy—happiness. And it was kind of sad. I didn’t want to get caught up in all of that.

But the third B . . . I rolled my eyes as I thought about it. About him.

Beautiful. And not just any beautiful. The handsome kind of sexy beautiful that almost hurts to look at. I’d be getting lines between my eyes and wrinkles on my forehead from squinting at him as if the sun was always in my eyes.

I blinked away thoughts of Adam, however, when I thought about the men who had approached me last night. That was another check in the list of his cons—Adam was involved in something shady. What if the whole company was involved?

God, I’d come all the way to Dublin to experience the world and get away from my problems, only to find myself caught up in new ones.

I no longer had an appetite, and so I wrapped the rest of my sandwich up, saving it for later. I set it on the bench next to me as I heard a low rumbling sound. It was my cell phone. I reached into my purse, a tinge of annoyance winding through me. I had bought a small purse because I was sick of always digging around in a large bag to get my phone. But even with this smaller one, I still couldn’t get my hands on it as quickly as I’d like.

When I finally yanked it free, I realized it was a text. Adam’s name was on the screen. I swiped at the message and opened it to read.

I just wanted to let you know that everything should be fine now. You should be okay.

I held the phone tight in my hands, reading his message a few times, trying to decipher if there was any hidden subtext. My fingers lingered over the small response box as I contemplated what to say. The sight of three gray dots had my heart leaping up into my throat. He was typing more!

I’m looking forward to tonight.

Tonight. What the hell would I be doing tonight that would ever come close to paying him back for the ritzy hotel?

I chewed on my bottom lip and studied my phone. Okay, I could do this. I could text Adam. I had done it last night, hadn’t I?

I tapped at the letters on my smartphone.

The word ‘should’ doesn’t exactly evoke a lot of confidence. ‘Should’ I be worried? And what are we doing tonight? Please tell me.

The dots popped back up again, and I wondered where he was right now.

His words sprang to view.

Why are you on your phone? Shouldn’t you be working?!

I couldn’t help but laugh at the angry face emoji he added to the end of his text as I typed him back.

I’m just now eating lunch because I’ve been so busy working my ass off for you. And you still haven’t answered my questions!

No dots. Just silence.

Had I crossed the line?

I stood up and grabbed my wrapped sandwich and looked over at the thick bank of trees that towered behind the bench. A chill from another breeze moved through me, and I shut my eyes as I thought about the feel of the wind on my face and in my hair when I would ride my horse, Java.

My phone danced an inch to the side as it pulsed from the vibration.

Picture this. I’m sitting at a table with a bunch of rich old blokes talking about supply chain issues—boring as feck—when I see a text from you referring to your arse. I spit out my coffee, practically spraying the old dafts in their faces! Thank you for that.

My cheeks burned, and I lowered my phone and paced in front of the bench. What was I supposed to say to that?

He was just playing with me, of course. The man loved to get a rise out of me.

Well, perhaps you shouldn’t have been texting during your meeting, anyway. Oh, and I have a really nice ‘arse’—I can see why it would make you spit.

I laughed at my message, then moved my thumb to the backspace button. No way. I couldn’t do it. He was the owner, not just a guy who’d been shirtless at my former roommate’s home the night I’d landed.

A text popped up from Rick, my partner. He needed me back inside.

How long had I been outside? We’d been teamed up to prepare a marketing pitch for McGregor’s TV channel.

I was about to go inside the building, but my eyes widened in dismay. “Holy shit.”

No!

I stared at the screen. My message, my joke, had sent. How the hell . . .?

I shoved the phone back into my purse without waiting to see his reply. How could I face him tonight after that message?

I rubbed my hands over my face and groaned as I made what felt like the damn walk of shame back into the building.

* * *

I’d learned my lesson yesterday—never leave without a jacket, umbrella, and rain boots. Of course, I still didn’t have rain boots, but I would get some and quick. Walking in my high-heeled suede boots was less than ideal on the slippery streets as rain pounded my black umbrella and hammered the sidewalk.

I should’ve just taken a cab when I got off the bus. I had meant to look up the route online before I ventured out to meet Adam, but I’d been tied up with Rick all afternoon working on our marketing pitch. I glanced over at a girl (who was in her late teens, maybe) leaning against a building beneath an overhang. Her arms were across her chest as she stared out at the busy street. “Excuse me?” I stepped up to her and then elevated my voice to compete with the patter of the rain. “Am I going the right way?” I showed her the address on my phone, careful to keep it tucked away under the umbrella.

The girl looked up at me and nodded. “Aye. Round that corner there.” She pointed down the street and pulled her arm back tight to her chest. Her eyes cast down at the pavement; her faded, military-grade boots kicked at the broken cobblestone pavers by her foot.

“Thanks.” I wanted to move, to continue walking, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “Um.”

Her mocha brown eyes flitted up to meet mine, and she angled her head.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Her brows raised, and I wondered if the same thing was going on in her head as was in mine: Why are you asking?

“Just waiting for the rain to let up. It’s a long walk.” She swallowed and leaned back against the building, sheltering herself from the harsh chill of the storm.

“Take my umbrella. I’m almost to where I need to go, anyway.”

Her brows slanted in confusion. “Really?”

“Please, take it.” Something told me she needed it more than me.

“Um.” She wet her lips. “Thank you.”

I handed it over, and she nodded. I stood under the overhang for a moment after she left, preparing myself to dash as quickly as possible down the street. I was about to meet sexy Adam, and I’d be a wet mess. But some things were more important than my looks.

The girl looked back at me over her shoulder, a smile capturing her lips before she continued down the street, picking up her pace.

I sucked in a breath, stowed my phone away, and clutched my purse close to me. “Here goes,” I muttered, rejoining the crowd of people with umbrellas and rain jackets on the sidewalk. Now, why hadn’t I thought to bring a jacket with a hood?

In my dress and heeled boots, I rushed as fast as possible down the sidewalk and turned down the street I’d been looking for. The water on my face made me blink, and I was sure my mascara was smudged beneath my eyes.

A two-story building sat at the end of the street I’d started down. It had to be the place. There was only one building in sight, but there was no name on the outside of the gray painted bricks.

As I neared, my heel got stuck between the cobblestone pavers and I tripped. I fell forward, my palms skidding against the ground. Well, at least I hadn’t smacked my face against the wet pavement.

How embarrassing. I started to stand, brushing the wet dirt off my hands, but there was someone at my side, grasping my elbow.

“Shit, Anna, are you okay?”

I squinted Adam’s way, trying to shield my eyes from the rain. Sheets of water poured over us. My mouth parted and droplets fell against my lips as I stared at him, dumbfounded.

Wet and soaking. His white dress shirt started to cling to his athletic build, molding to his muscles. Wow, he was hot. And I must have looked—hell, I didn’t want to think about how I looked.

“You okay?” he asked again and took me by surprise by pulling me into his arms, lifting me. Grateful, I slung my arms around his neck as he carried me to the building. Hot and chivalrous.

He set me down just inside, where he shook his head and ran his fingers over his short hair, swiping the rain away.

“I tripped.” I blinked a few times and tucked my arms to my chest, my bottom lip shaking from the cold.

“I saw that,” he said. “Come on, let’s get you changed. You must be freezing. Why don’t you have an umbrella?”

I unbuttoned my jacket and stared in a daze down at the concrete floor. When I pulled the thin wet jacket from my shoulders, his eyes darkened, and his fingers came down over my hands. “Not a good idea.” He tugged at the lapels of my jacket and pulled them together, covering my chest.

“What? But it’s soaking wet.”

I saw him swallow, and I opened up my jacket, wondering what he’d been looking at. The water had soaked through my cotton jacket, which wasn’t made for rain. “Oh jeez.” My cream colored, fitted silk dress had become nearly transparent. My nipples were hard, poking through the thin lace fabric of my bra.

I snapped my jacket closed, my body heating with humiliation despite the cold, damp material.

Adam took a step back and rubbed the side of his face. “There are clothes here if you want to change.” There was a slight hint of a smile on his lips as one of his brows lifted. Why was this happening to me?

He turned down a dark hall, and I followed after, trying not to look at the hint of ink that was evident now beneath his wet dress shirt. I wondered if he intended to comment on the text I’d sent him earlier in the day. He had never replied to the message, so maybe he wanted to drop it.

“Where are we?” We stopped in front of a door just midway down the hall. I could hear the faint sounds of a tap-tap-tap coming from afar, as well as shouting. Or was that screaming?

“It’s a boys and girls club—a place for teens to hang out in the evening when they have nowhere to go.” He opened the door, flipped on the light, and went inside.

“And why are we here?”

He grabbed a pair of sweats, a gray T-shirt, and some socks. “I think there are shoes in here, too.” He squatted down. “What size?”

“Eight.”

I admired his shoulder blades and the way the fabric of his slacks strained over the muscles in his quads as he reached for the shoes.

“We keep a lot of stuff here in case the kids ever need clothes.” He rose to his feet and plopped a pair of orange Nikes on top of the clothes.

“Nikes, huh? You don’t mess around.” I laughed nervously. “So, you gonna answer my question?”

He shut the door and stood just outside of it. “I had this place built a few years ago. I wanted a place for kids to go where they could stay out of trouble. Keep people from turning out like me.”

“Like you? What? A rich businessman?”

“I wasn’t always a choir boy.” A smile skated across his lips—the panty dropping kind. Although mine were already wet, for different reasons.

“And you’re a choir boy now?” I smiled. “Sure.”

He pressed a hand to his chest as if I’d offended him. “You said you wanted to work, so I brought you here to work, Miss Smarty Pants.”

“I hardly call hanging out with teenagers work.”

“Well, I come here twice a week to spend time with them. I’m going to be wrapped up the next few months, and I may not be able to make it often. It would mean a lot to me if you’d be able to step in.” He blew out a breath as his eyes met mine. “There are things worth more to me than money.”

“You don’t act like a billionaire,” I blurted.

He smiled at me. “Oh yeah? And how am I supposed to act?”

“Not this normal,” I answered lamely, which induced a laugh from him. “Anyways,” I said, raising my hands in the air, “this will be fun. I come from a big family, so this will feel like I’m home again. It’ll be nice.”

His hand came down on my shoulder. “Get dressed, and I’ll introduce you. The jacks is up the hall.”

The jacks? I didn’t bother to ask. It must be Irish for the bathroom. “Adam?”

He’d already started down the hall, so he paused and glanced over his shoulder at me.

“What has you so busy you won’t be coming here?” I wasn’t sure why I needed to know, but if this place was important to him—and it had to have been for him to open it and spend his nights there—what would keep him away?

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said softly before looking away. He moved quickly down the hall and turned out of sight.

I sighed, trying to push away the strange, nagging feeling inside me as I walked into the bathroom.

“Jeez!” I cupped a hand to my mouth, dropping the clothes on the counter in the bathroom. I looked like I’d just stepped out of a horror film. One in which I played an evil clown. Black streaks were beneath my eyes mimicking deathly tears.

I splashed water on my face and wiped at the splotches of black until they disappeared. My cheeks were a little red and my foundation had come off, but it was still an improvement. I combed my fingers through my sopping hair and wrapped it up into a loose bun on my head.

That would have to do.

I quickly changed and made my way down a hall, following the noise.

When I pushed open a set of doors, there were teenagers everywhere. And why wouldn’t there be? It was a kid’s dream.

An indoor basketball court was on one side of the room where a group of guys played five on five. On the other side were rows of long, rectangular tables. Pizza boxes were open, and several kids sat there eating. TVs lined one wall, attached to game systems, and several kids were playing board games at neighboring tables.

I noticed a few adults in the room who were dressed in red T-shirts and khaki pants. I assumed they were employees or volunteers. But where was Adam?

“You’re right.”

Huh? I turned around and saw Adam standing just behind me, his head almost touching his shoulder, his eyes squinting at me.

“What?” I propped my hands on my hips.

“I was just assessing the legitimacy of your earlier message to me. And you’re right.”

My cheeks flushed. “Oh God. I didn’t mean to send that.”

He tipped his shoulders up as he laughed.

“Adam.” Ugh. “Mr. McGregor.”

He came up to me, closing the gap between us. He leaned in close to my ear, and I could feel his breath there. “I think we’ve moved beyond last names, don’t you, love?”

With that, he brushed past, leaving me driving my short nails into my palms to try and calm down the sensations that shot through me from his simple touch. What was he doing to me?

“Listen up!” Adam placed his hands on each side of his mouth. “Come on over,” he hollered over the noise in the room.

The teenagers rallied around him, all twenty or so of them. I folded my arms and studied his physique. He looked just as good in sweats and a T-shirt as he had in a wet dress shirt.

“This here is Anna. She’s from the U.S.” He clapped his hands together, swinging them a little and bringing them up in the air, pointing my way. “She’s gonna hang out a few times a week with you all.”

“She’s hot!” one of the teenage boys shouted, which had my cheeks heating back up again.

Adam raised his hands in the air and narrowed his eyes the direction of the boy. “And you’d best respect her.”

I smiled and waved at the teenagers, feeling almost more nervous now than I had been at the office yesterday. “Hi,” I managed.

“I’m Jenna. Nice to meet you. Where in the U.S. are you from? New York?” The redhead girl smiled at me.

“I’m from Kentucky, which is pretty different from New York.” I looked over at Adam. “I lived on a farm. My parents breed horses.”

“Oh. Do you ride?” another girl asked.

“Yes.” And God did I miss it already. Part of me felt as if I’d given up breathing.

The same young girl asked, “Maybe we should take some sort of trip out of the city to a farm. We could all go riding!”

Adam came up next to me but looked out at the girl who’d asked the question. “Well, Chloe, I’m sure we can arrange something.”

“Conor here.” A flicker of a smile passed across his face as he neared me. Although I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to call him a kid. He looked like he was nearly out of high school, maybe the oldest here? “Could you teach us to ride?”

“Um, okay,” I responded, not sure if I would really be able to make that happen.

Adam poked me in the ribs with his elbow. “You really are full of surprises,” he said in a low voice as the kids began chatting in small groups. His blue eyes shifted to mine.

“Funny. I could say the same about you.”

“A man of mystery,” he joked, placing a hand over his heart. He winked at me and turned away to grab a basketball from the ground. He tossed it at Conor. “You ready to play?” he asked the group.

I approached some of the girls who were still crowded around. “What would ya’ll like to do?”

“We’d love to hear more about you,” the girl, I believe Adam had said her name was Chloe, spoke up.

There wasn’t much more to tell about me, but I’d do my best.

After a few hours and a couple of slices of pizza, the kids and the volunteers had all gone home. Adam and I were alone in the building.

“That was fun.” I came up next to Adam who was standing near the doors.

He shifted to face me. “The rain has stopped.”

“Good. I’d hate to get drenched again.”

“I’ll take you home.”

“On your bike?” My brows popped up.

“No. Although the way you look . . . I almost wish I had it right now. A little wind in your hair might do you some good.”

“What are you trying to say, that I need loosening up or something?”

He cleared his throat as his eyes found mine, glimmering with amusement. With his dirty mind I was going to have to learn to watch my mouth.

“I have my car. Unlike you, I check the forecast before I go out.”

“I had an umbrella,” I defended. “But . . . ugh, never mind.” He pushed open the door and held his hand out, motioning for me to exit. Sure, like I’d give him another chance to verify my text. “You first.”

“Ah.” He allowed the door to close and touched his chest. “I’m a gentleman. A woman always goes first.”

“I should walk, anyway. I don’t want anyone seeing us together near the hotel.”

He rolled his eyes at me. A straight up eye roll! I wanted to smack his chest. Okay, so maybe I’d use any excuse I could get to touch my fingers to the hard planes of his body.

“I’ll drop you off around the block from the hotel,” he said, laughing a little.

“Hey!” I stood in front of him, ready to go after him. “This is no joke. I’m taking this internship seriously.”

He lowered his head but kept his eyes on me. “Good. I’d hate to see you wasting the company’s time.”

“And why is it that the only three international interns you have working for you are also the only three female interns? What, were you trying to meet some quota? Kill two birds with one stone?” I folded my arms and fumbled back a step as he took in a large breath, his chest rising. I had to stop myself from reaching out for him. What was wrong with me?

“First of all, there’s no quota. Second of all, I didn’t choose the interns, John did.” He propped his hand up on the wall by the door. My eyes drifted to his sleeved arm and the bit of black ink peeping out.

Why was I bringing this up? Maybe I needed to distract the pull of annoying desire that tugged at me.

“Are you ready to go now?”

“Yes,” I hissed, realizing I was really just angry at myself for how nuts I was acting. I ducked under his arm and pushed open the door. “Where’s your car?” I spun around fast, whipping my bag of wet clothes and boots around with me.

He quickly dodged my bag, taking a side step and eying me like I was crazy. And apparently, I was. “It’s the only one on the street.” He smirked.

The black metal gleamed, even beneath the dim street lighting. I walked over to it and spotted the red, gold, and black symbol with the horse in the middle. A Porsche, of course. What did I expect—a Toyota? “This tops out near two hundred miles per hour,” I said, rubbing my hand over the front hood. “Zero to sixty in, what, four and half seconds, give or take?”

Adam’s mouth parted as he stared at me. “You know cars?”

I opened the heavy door, and then realized I was on the wrong side of the car. The wheel was on the right in Ireland. I blushed as I moved past him, ignoring the smirk he wore.

“I know engines.” I tried to maintain my confidence as I moved around the sports car. “My father has two passions: horses and horsepower. He taught me all about them both. Not that he could ever afford a car like this, but he worked on luxury car engines as a side business. More of a hobby.” I didn’t want to see his response, so I slipped inside, sliding over red leather. “You sure like your toys, though, huh?” I fastened the seatbelt and pulled the heavy bag onto my lap.

When he got in he had a grin on his face. “You keep surprising me.” He pressed a button on the dashboard and a few moments later my body warmed. Ah. Heated seats. “Better?”

“Beats riding a bike.”

He pulled onto the main road, and my eyes wandered to the veins on the top of his hand as he gripped the clutch and shifted.

“I like to go fast.”

“Most guys do, don’t they?” I forced myself to look out the window, ignoring the pool of heat between my legs as the image of riding him snuck into my thoughts. Hell, I’d never even been in that position in my life! What right did I have to think about it?

In the reflection of the glass, I spotted him glancing at me. “Slow is good, too,” he said as the car rolled to a stop at a red light.

I ignored the possible innuendo of his words and kept my eyes glued outside. A few guys were singing a song at one of the tables outside a cute little painted red pub. I was pretty sure I’d seen that pub listed as one of the “places to visit while in Dublin” during my last minute research before I flew over. I wasn’t much of a drinker, though. My tolerance to alcohol was somewhere between zero and negative ten. Besides, I didn’t have the most positive memories associated with the stuff.

I shut my eyes as a cold spell of the past whispered across my skin. Chills followed as goose bumps covered my arms.

No. Don’t think about that.

“Adam?”

“Yeah?”

The car started to move, and I opened my eyes. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I guess.”

A soft hum came from his lips. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll answer it if you—”

His laughter had me snapping my attention to him. “What makes you think I want to know?” He paused for a moment. “And the answer better be that you’re single.”

What? “And why is that?”

He shook his head. “Because I pegged you as innocent. And if you were my girl, and you went around texting another bloke about your arse, I’d lose my shite.”

“Oh really? What makes you think I’m so innocent?”

He halted at another red light and scratched his brow as his lips pulled at the edges. “You radiate light. Like some sort of angel.”

My lips spread open in surprise. “I—what?”

“And I’m not good for someone like you,” he said in a throaty voice before shifting his blue eyes away.

There it was again, that whole bad boy routine. What could be so bad about him? Then the two thugs who knew him came to mind. Still, I needed to kill the awkwardness that hung heavy between us as he tore down the street. “No worries, love,” I mimicked him, “you’re far from my type, anyway.”

His hand tightened on the steering wheel as he shifted gears with the other. When he didn’t respond, I looked out the window once again, feeling a little bad about my comment now.

A few minutes later, Adam pulled up in front of my hotel. “I thought you were going to drop me off a block away.” I unbuckled my belt and sat up straight.

“I’ll stay in the car—no one will see us. Relax.” He shifted in his seat to face me.

“You know why I’m worried.”

“It’s my company—who the feck cares what anyone thinks? I’ll tell them to go to hell for ya if anyone gives you shit.”

“I just don’t want people to think I didn’t earn the job . . . if I get it, that is.”

“I don’t make that decision, so it shouldn’t matter.” He shrugged.

Sure, it was no big deal to him, but I’d only been at the company two days, and the last thing I wanted was to establish a reputation as—well, someone less than innocent.

“Goodnight.”

He opened his door, and I assumed he was planning on something chivalrous, yet again. I beat him to it and pushed my door open before he could walk around and open it for me. I stepped out of the car, which was too low to the ground. Why were expensive cars so hard to get out of?

He stood outside of the car and placed his arms on top of it, his eyes on me. “Why do I feel like we just had a fight, and I’m in trouble?” He perked a brow and a smile teased his lips.

I couldn’t be mad at him if I wanted to. Damn him. I copied his eye rolling move from earlier and shook my head. “Goodnight,” I dragged out the word, clutching my bag. When I turned away, the heat of his stare was on my back as I moved.