‘Maybe,’ he answered cryptically. ‘I clearly haven’t worked you out yet.’

I gave him a cool look. ‘There’s not a lot to work out.’

‘See, that just makes me even more curious and think there’s plenty to work out.’ There was a dangerous half-smile on his lips that in other circumstances I might have acknowledged as being sexy.

2

The bell clanged again and I put down my glass, smoothed my hair quickly and went to open the door to my clients, only to find Betty, my next-door neighbour instead, with a plate full of pastries that smelled delicious.

‘Hello, love,’ she said, coming in as she usually did before I could say anything, bustling on through to the kitchen. ‘I’ve just made these cheese straws and there’s too many. If I leave them in the kitchen George will just eat them all and you know I’m trying to watch his weight. Oh, hello!’ she said, coming to a halt as she saw Lorcan sitting at the kitchen table.

‘I’m so sorry, dear.’ She turned to me, her eyes shining with curiosity. ‘I didn’t realise you had company.’

‘It’s work,’ I said quickly, before Betty jumped to any conclusions, although by the look on her face she already had.

‘Oh.’ The mischief disappeared from her kindly smile.

‘The garden is too wet to get to the office so I’m having to hold my meeting in here.’

‘Which is fine by me, if this is the service we get.’ Lorcan smiled, eyeing the treats.

‘Well, aren’t you the charmer?’ Betty laughed, holding out the plate towards him. ‘Take two. Big lad like you.’

‘Don’t mind if I do, thank you.’ He held out his hand. ‘Lorcan O’Malley. It’s nice to meet you.’

‘And you, dear. I’m Betty. Betty Collins. George and I live next door.’

‘It looks like a lovely village,’ he said, catching my eye as he said so and I gave the tiniest brow raise acknowledging his earlier, slightly less flattering description of the place.

‘It is, it is. So where’s your lovely bride-to-be?’

‘Oh, I’m not the lucky chap. I’m just the best man.’

‘Ah, already tied the knot yourself, have you?’ My neighbour couldn’t have been more transparent if she’d been made of plate glass.

‘No, not me. Still a bachelor, I’m afraid, Betty.’

‘Is that so?’ I saw the mischief slip back into her smile. ‘We live in hope of hearing that Maddie’s finally arranging her own wedding—'

‘Thanks ever so much for the goodies, Betty,’ I said, interrupting her, my face suddenly hot. ‘That was very kind of you. I’ll have to do an extra lap of the lake to burn those off.’

Betty waved my protestations away. ‘Oh, hush. There’s barely anything of you, is there, now, Mr O’Malley?’