“Oh, yes. You’ve been?”

“Oh yes. Got lost there, plenty of times.”

She laughed, “I’m going for a special event. It’s a masquerade ball, right on the grounds. People dress in period costumes, and it goes all night long with dancing and fireworks and food. Have you heard of it?”

He shook his head, “Can’t say that I have. But that place is as big as all of Ballygangargin.”

Her brow rose in confusion, “Bally . . .”

“Ballygangargin. My town. Smack in the middle of Ireland. Ever hear of it?” He chuckled to himself, “Of course you haven’t. No one ever has. I own the Ballygangargin Pub. You should hear people try to pronounce it when they’re wankered. Not a pretty sight.”

She laughed as he drained the rest of his glass and held up a finger for another. The man was possibly too fond of his beer, but there was no doubt he was fun. Stout and built solidly—like a refrigerator, he was nothing like lean, lanky Evan, and yet she didn’t mind that. Maybe she didn’t mind the kind of guy whose shirts always needed ironing. He was fun, lighthearted, and maybe that was just what she needed.

And now that she really had a chance to look at him, he was handsome with twinkling eyes and an infectious smile. She scanned his hands on the bar and noticed no wedding ring. “When do you go back to Ireland?” she asked him.

“Not in any rush. Don’t have anyone home, waiting for me. So that’s why I’m giving serious consideration to tottering.” He looked her over. “That’s why you surprise me, lass. You traveling alone?”

She nodded.

“No man would let a lovely woman like yourself travel alone,” he said with a smile as he swept his beer off the bar. “What are you running away from?”

Her face heated. It’d been a long time since any man had called her lovely. “I’m not running away. I’m just . . .” She paused. She really hadn’t expected to get into this with anyone. But he was asking, and for some reason, she felt like he’d understand. “I’m in the midst of a divorce, and I realized it’d been a long time since I did anything for myself. I’ve always wanted to go to that ball—since I was in college. So I quit my job, bought a ticket to the ball, and here I am. I know it sounds crazy, but . . .”

“Not at all. It makes right good sense if you’re asking me.”

“You think so?” When he nodded emphatically, she smiled, feeling very comfortable around him. She hadn’t even felt this relaxed around Evan, even though he’d been her back-up to Stéphane. It was only after a few drinks that she felt at ease with him . . . really, with any man. She wagered Sean would be a lot of fun out on a date.

In fact, it’d make her grand entrance at the ball so much nicer to have someone to walk in with. Not only that, he’d seemed fun-loving . . . as if he’d embrace the whole period-style costume thing. Maybe . . .