‘I’m sure.’ She still didn’t feel quite ready to give in yet. She was enjoying not agreeing too readily to any suggestion from a man who was obviously used to women jumping at his every word.

‘But you and Monica. You’re not joined at the hip, are you?’

Laura put on a good impression of wide-eyed innocence. ‘Do you not want to show the countryside to a woman who asks such pertinent questions?’

He laughed. ‘You may not think much of my morals, but I can assure you I only ever court one woman at a time.’

‘If they know about each other,’ Laura said, as if to confirm it.

He grinned. ‘That’s right. So, will you come with me?’ He studied her earnestly.

She felt herself being drawn in by his magnetic gaze, despite her intention to remain calm and collected.

‘For a walk?’ Again, she appeared to be seeking confirmation that nothing too much was being asked of her when she knew perfectly well if he’d asked her to row the Atlantic with him she’d probably have agreed to it.

‘That’s all I’m asking you to do – on this occasion. I’ll bring lunch,’ he added as if this would clinch it.

She gave him a prim little smile. ‘Then yes, that would be very nice.’

‘Very nice?’ Her choice of words obviously offended him. ‘Hmph!’

‘Will it not be nice, then?’ she asked, still prim, hoping her amusement was well hidden.

He narrowed his gaze so that his eyes almost disappeared. ‘It will be spectacular.’

Laura swallowed. His voice was so sexy she pressed her knees together to stop them wobbling.

He paused. ‘I’ll get you back in plenty of time to set off for the ferry.’

‘You are keen to get exercise, aren’t you?’ Laura struggled to be brisk. ‘If it’s that difficult for you normally, I’m sure you could find a personal trainer.’

‘Listen, Miss . . .’

‘Horsley.’

‘You’re getting the chance to see one of the most beautiful spots in Ireland through the eyes of—’

She broke in, smiling, pretending to be teasing but in reality being perfectly serious: ‘One of the most gifted writers to have come out of Ireland for a long time?’

His slow, crooked smile could have been ironic, or could have been completely accepting of this description. ‘Well, you said it.’

Laura pretended to be appalled. ‘You’re not supposed to agree with me! How conceited are you?’

‘Some would say: very.’

She held up her hand. ‘Count me as one of that group.’

His eyebrow acknowledged her challenge. ‘Others would say a craftsman should know his own worth.’

She shook her head. ‘Only those very keen to suck up to you.’

‘Yesterday you’d have been the founder member of that group. Good God, woman, you were willing to sleep with me!’