‘It’s lovely here,’ said Hannah at last, giving into the urge to prolong the conversation, that flicker of attraction licking inside her. She shouldn’t do it to herself. He was used to red carpets, Michelin restaurants, five-star hotels, and designer-clad women in the sort of heels she couldn’t stand up in, let alone walk in.

‘Yes, it’s not difficult to come back to.’

‘Where were you before?’

‘Dublin. LA. New York.’

Hannah raised her eyebrows and her mouth twisted as she bit back a grin. ‘You really were a big cheese.’

‘You really didn’t know?’ His voice held note of puzzlement.

‘No, I didn’t. I’m not that interested in celebrities and I’m not a foodie. Or rather, I wasn’t. Your mother is amazing.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Everyone thinks that. She is amazing but I also think Killorgally works its own magic as well.’

She smiled at him. ‘It certainly does. It’s beautiful here. I love it.’

‘Despite people peering in your windows at night.’

Hannah shrugged but looked uneasily at the trampled flowers, wondering if perhaps it hadn’t been the first time. ‘Maybe I scared him off last night.’ Hannah really hated making a fuss and she’d settled in the cottage. It was her little domain. The last thing she wanted to do was move to another cottage elsewhere. ‘And I love this cottage. I’m not moving.’ She took so much pleasure in the pretty, stylish interior.

‘Did you choose the colours and the design?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘In the cottage, I love the woodwork in the lounge, the painted wood. It’s such a gorgeous sage green and the built-in cupboard is gorgeous.’

Conor nodded, but he didn’t smile back at her. ‘Thanks. I like doing that sort of stuff, without anyone breathing down your neck until its finished. And it’s mine. No one else in the family is interested. They leave me to it. When it’s food, everyone has an opinion – or at least in this family they do.’

‘Well, it’s beautiful.’ Envy tinged her words as she thought of her square-walled, contemporary flat. Work always seemed to come first, so she hadn’t done much decorating and she’d chosen the flat because it was practical and easy to maintain but it lacked the ingredient of character, which the cottage had in abundance with its fireplace, wooden floorboards, and sash windows with the lovely chapel-style frames.

‘I like working with my hands.’ He grinned and she pursed her lips. ‘I’m away then, if you’re sure you don’t want to move.’

‘I don’t want to move,’ she said with sudden resolution. No one was going to chase her out of this place. And whoever it was had probably been just as startled as she was and wouldn’t be back.