‘I’m not smiling,’ I called out.

‘Liar,’ he called back lazily as he slid into the driver’s seat, a low, disturbingly sexy chuckle drifting after it on the still night before the low growl of the engine swallowed it up. With another wave, he drove off into the darkness. I closed the door before the tail lights disappeared and leant against the thick wood for a moment before heading straight up to the bathroom to take a long, hot bath. Although, as the memory of Lorcan’s mouth drifted uninvited back into my thoughts, I considered that perhaps a cold shower might be more appropriate.

* * *

The following morning, after a good sleep in my own bed and my usual green smoothie for breakfast, I was feeling more like my old self and wondering what all the fuss my mind (and body) had made over Lorcan O’Malley was about. As I had suspected, it was clearly just to do with being out of my environment for the first time in ages – the magical surroundings of Ireland, a romantic castle setting and the kind, genuine people I’d met. I’d be more prepared on my next trip and on top of my game, able to deal with anything and – more importantly – anyone, without getting distracted.

‘Hello?’ Betty’s voice called through the letterbox when I ignored my doorbell while trying to get a session of Pilates in – something else that had gone amiss at the weekend. I’d had to modify my practice thanks to my injury but at least I was getting some exercise. Well, I had been but my neighbour could be persistent, especially when she’d clearly spotted me getting out of a car, aided by a good-looking man. To be fair, it had been a long time since she’d had the opportunity to good-naturedly spy on such an occurrence, but still. I was desperately trying to get back to my schedule and Tuesday mornings from eight until nine, clearly marked, in purple, were Pilates.

‘Hello-o-o-o-o-o!’ she called again.

I flopped back on my mat and let out a sigh.

‘Coming, Betty.’

27

I pushed myself up off the mat and went to answer the door. ‘Hi,’ I said, pulling it open.

‘Hello, dear. I’m not disturbing you, am I?’ She glanced at my workout top and shorts, then noticed the dressing on my leg. ‘Oh! What happened there?’

‘Come in, Betty. Nothing much, I fell over at the weekend and cut it.’

‘Oh dear. Is it bad?’

‘A couple of stitches. I’m having them out in a few days.’

‘You poor thing,’ she said. Then a faint smile began to form on her kindly features. ‘Was it…?’ She made a drinking gesture.

‘Not at all,’ I replied. ‘Like I said, it was a business trip. I was working the whole time.’