“She’ll never hear it from me.” She rose, too intrigued not to take a closer look. The chicken was golden, beaded with moisture, flecked with spices, and surrounded by a browned circle of potatoes and carrots. “Now, that’s wonderful.”

“It’s Brie’s doing. She started me an herb garden years back, hounded me till I took the time to tend it.”

Shannon leaned back on the counter, eyeing him. “Weren’t you a little miffed when Gray came along and beat your time?”

He was well and truly baffled for a minute, then grinned as he transferred chicken from pan to platter. “She was never for me, nor I for her. We’ve been family too long. Tom was a father to me when mine died. And Brie and Maggie were always my sisters.” He carved off a small slice at the breast. “Not that it’s a brotherly feeling I have toward you, Shannon. I’ve waited for you long enough.”

Alarmed, she shifted, but he’d moved smoothly to box her in, back to the counter. Still, all he did was lift the bite of chicken to her lips.

And his thumb grazed lightly, seductively, over her bottom lip when she accepted his offer. “It’s good. Really.” But her chest felt thick, and alarm increased when he skimmed a hand over her hair. She made her tingling spine straighten until they were eye to eye.

“What are you doing, Murphy?”

“Well, Shannon.” He touched his lips to hers lightly, almost breezily. “I’m courting you.”

Chapter
Ten

Courting? Flabbergasted, Shannon gaped at him. It was ridiculous, a foolish word that had nothing to do with her, or her lifestyle.

Yet it had certainly tripped off his Irish tongue easily. She had to make him swallow it again, and fast.

“That’s crazy. It’s absurd.”

His hands were on her face again, fingertips just skimming her jawline. “Why?”

“Well . . . because.” In defense she moved back, gestured with her glass. “In the first place, you hardly know me.”

“But I do know you.” More amused than offended at her reaction, he turned back to carve the chicken. “I knew you the minute I saw you.”

“Don’t start that Celtic mysticism with me, Murphy.” She strode back to the table, topped off her wine, and gulped it. “I’m an American, damn it. People don’t go around courting people in New York.”

“That might be part of what’s wrong with it.” He carried the platter to the table. “Sit down, Shannon. You’ll want to eat while it’s hot.”

“Eat.” She rolled her eyes before closing them in frustration. “Now I’m supposed to eat.”

“You came to eat, didn’t you?” Taking on the duties of host, he filled the plate by her chair, then his own before lighting candles. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yes, I’m hungry.” She plopped down in her chair. After flicking her napkin onto her lap, she picked up her knife and fork.

For the next few minutes she did eat, while her options circled around in her head. “I’m going to try to be reasonable with you, Murphy.”