Riley

2

“WHERE THE BLOODY HELL have you been?”

Riley tugged off his jacket and stepped behind the bar. He grabbed an apron from the drawer and tied it around his waist. His cousin Martin glared at him from beneath a shock of spiked magenta hair. When he wasn’t hauling Riley’s gear or setting up a show, the twenty-two-year-old had worked at the pub and managed to find something to complain about every day of the week.

It was well past the lunch rush and only a few patrons were still sitting inside the dimly lit pub. Riley had decided to take a detour after dropping Nan off at the cottage, grabbing a quick shower and shave at his flat above the pub before coming downstairs.

“I told you, I had to run up to Shannon and pick up that lady who booked the cottage.”

“Your car’s been parked out front all morning. How did you get there?”

“I took the Fiat. I needed to buy new tires for it. You made it through lunch on your own, so what’s your gripe?”

“My gripe is these three bastards sitting at the bar,” he said, pointing to the Ballykirk barflies, affectionately known as the Unholy Trinity. “They got every last penny of me tips, shiftless eedjits.”

“You know better than to gamble with them. They’re notorious cheats. And you’re far too gullible.”

This caused a vigorous protest from the elderly trio-Markus Finn, Dealy Carmichael and Johnnie O’Malley. “Oh, change the boy’s nappy there,” Dealy teased. “He’s nothing but a mewling babby, that one.”

Riley held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Give it up, boys. I’ve never known you to play a game of chance without fixing the odds squarely in your direction. Was it the marked cards or the loaded dice?”

They reluctantly dug into their pockets and pulled out handfuls of coins and bills. Martin scooped up his tips and shoved them back in his apron, then wagged his finger at the old men. “You’ll not be doin’ that again. I won’t fall for your tricks.”

He strode off to the kitchen in a foul temper, the three men chuckling to themselves. “We’ve got to teach the boy,” Johnnie said. “Every time you take Martin to Dublin, that band of yours robs him blind.”

“Never mind the lad,” Markus said, waving his hands. “Tell us about this lady you picked up, Riley. Dealy here has been suffering under a long, painful dry spell. Is she pretty? Or does she look like Johnnie’s bulldog?”

“Dealy won’t care,” Johnnie said. “Without his eyeglasses, he’d fall in love with a milk cow. But he does like a girl with some meat on her bones.”

“You don’t know what I like,” Dealy said. “And I don’t need you watching out for my romantic interests.”

Riley picked up a rag and wiped the wooden bar in front of them, picking up their half-finished pints of Guinness as he did. “I don’t think she’ll be interested in any of you bounders. She’s young. My age. And far too pretty for the lot of you.”

“Oh, now that makes things interesting, doesn’t it, boys?” Markus crowed. “Riley, here, has a possibility. I don’t believe he’s had a possibility for four or five months. Who was his last possibility? That sweet little blonde from Glengarriff, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, I remember her,” Dealy said. “She was lovely. Beautiful breasts.”

He was in a sad state when the entire town of Ballykirk knew the last time he’d bedded a woman. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had opportunities. Being a musician had its advantages, especially when you worked late nights at pubs filled with drunken girls. But he just hadn’t met anyone lately who interested him.

“You know, there is no law that says I have to serve you,” Riley said. “If you insist on antagonizing the help here, I’ll put you out on the street. Now finish your Guinness and get the hell out of my pub.”

“Last time I looked, this was still your da’s pub,” Markus said.

“And we were just going to have ourselves a game or two of darts,” Dealy said.

Riley sighed. The three pensioners spent most of their midday at the pub, sandwiched between fishing in the morning and endless games of dominoes outside the green grocer in the afternoon. The routine was repeated every day except Sunday, when they all went to church in the morning and spent their afternoons at family dinners with their grown children.

“If she comes in here, I expect you three to behave yourselves. There’s no need for you to be telling tales for your own amusement.”

“Well, what’s she doin’ here if she doesn’t care to socialize?” Markus asked.

“She’s here to see the sights. Her mother stayed in the village years ago and she’s come to visit some of the same places.”

The front door of the pub opened and they all turned to look. Riley straightened as he saw Nan step inside. She glanced around and when she spotted him, she smiled and waved.

“Now there. She’s lovely,” Dealy murmured. “Small breasts, but lovely.”

“Look at her,” Markus said. “She looks like Audrey feckin’ Hepburn.”

“Oh, the wife loves Audrey,” Johnnie commented. “Seen all her movies.” He cocked his head in Nan’s direction. “What’s her name, then?”

“Nan. Nan Galvin. Although her real name is Tiernan.”

“That’s a boy’s name,” Dealy whispered. “Why would anyone give a pretty thing like her a boy’s name? They do that in America, you know. Some eedjits once named their daughter Moon Unit. Who the hell was that, Johnnie? Remember, we read it in the magazine?”

She crossed to the bar and sat down on a stool next to the Unholy Trinity. “Am I too late for lunch?” she asked Riley.

Riley leaned over the bar, bracing his elbows on the scarred wood in front of her. “You surely aren’t,” he said.

It had only been an hour since he’d seen her, but she looked even prettier than he’d remembered. Her hair was damp and curled around her face and her color was high from the walk down the hill. His gaze dropped to her mouth, those lush lips that were so soft and warm beneath his. “What can I get you?” he asked.

“What do you have?” she countered.

Riley stifled a groan. Right now, the possibility of an embarrassing erection. How was it possible that the mere sight of her caused that kind of reaction, he wondered.

The three men watched the two them, nodding as their gazes darted back and forth between Riley and Nan. Conversation would be impossible with three overly interested eavesdroppers. Never mind that the entire village would know the details of the conversation before the end of the day, but they’d no doubt interrupt with questions of their own.

“Aren’t you three late for a game of dominoes?” he asked, giving them a pointed glare.

For a moment, they protested, then realized what Riley was getting at. They quickly jumped up and headed to the door, chatting as they left. Once the door shut behind them, the pub was empty-and quiet. Riley stepped out from behind the bar and walked to the door. After flipping the lock, he dropped the Closed sign in the window.

“Do you always encourage your customers to leave?” Nan asked. “It’s a wonder you’ve been able to stay in business.”

“Unless you want to reveal your darkest secrets to all of County Cork, you should be happy I sent them out,” Riley said, returning to his spot opposite her. He drew Nan a half pint of Guinness and set it in front of her, then circled the bar to sit down next to her. He turned her to face him, trapping her knees between his and smoothing his hands over her thighs. “So, tell me all your deepest and darkest secrets. What do you like to eat for lunch?”

She picked up her Guinness and took a sip, then wrinkled her nose. “I’m a salad girl,” she said.

“Try the Guinness again,” he said. “It’s an acquired taste.”

She took another sip. “What kind of salads do you have?”

“Katie!” A few seconds later, the pub’s cook stepped out of the kitchen. “What kind of salads do we have today?”

“We don’t have salads,” she said. “We’ve got shepherd’s pie, bangers and mash, and corned beef with cabbage and red potatoes. And I’ve a bit of seafood chowder left.”

“The chowder sounds great,” Nan said. She watched Katie return to the kitchen, then glanced around the pub. “You said your parents owned the pub. Are they here?”

“They’re off caravanning.” He caught her quizzical look. “What? Caravanning? They have a big caravan and they drive it places and camp-”

“Oh,” she said. “An R.V.? A recreational vehicle. A little home on wheels?”

“Yes. They’ll be back in September and then I get back to my regular dissolute life. As a musician, I spend my days writing impossibly bad lyrics and trite tunes and my evenings trying to sing them.”

“I thought you’d cut your own CDs. Are you really that bad?”

“Only in my own mind,” he said with a chuckle. “I make a decent living. I’ll never be a millionaire, but I pay my bills. And I love what I do.”

He’d always enjoyed the fact that his profession came with scads of female admirers, a benefit he’d taken advantage of on many occasions. But Riley suspected Nan was not the kind of girl who jumped into bed with a guy just because he played a guitar and sang a pretty song.

“And you sing here?”

“Every Saturday night throughout the summer,” he said. “You’ll have to come see me.”

“I’d expect you have a lot of girls coming to see you,” Nan said.

“Not a one as pretty as you are, Nan Galvin.” He leaned forward to steal a kiss, but before he could, Katie barged through the kitchen door. He waited while she put the crock of soup in front of Nan, along with a plate of sliced homemade bread and butter.

“Thank you,” Nan said, giving her a smile.

“Cherry tart for dessert,” she said. “Warm from the oven. Can I get you a piece?”

She grinned. “All right. I’m famished. Bring it on.”

“That’s the spirit,” Katie said, walking over to the kitchen door.

Nan dug into the chowder, then groaned. “It’s wonderful. This place is wonderful. It’s exactly how I’d imagined an Irish pub to be,” she said.

“Now, I know you have pubs in America,” he said.

“I don’t spend a lot of time in them,” she said. Nan pointed to a pair of socks hanging from a rafter. “I’m sure there’s a good story behind those.”

“There’s a hundred years of stories in this pub,” he said. “The Speckled Hound has been around since the turn of the nineteenth century. I don’t know them all. But I do know one.” He grabbed her hand and drew her along to a dark corner. “There was this pretty American girl who came to Ballykirk and she walked into the Speckled Hound and the bloke behind the bar was so besotted that he had to kiss her.”

“Besotted?” Nan asked.

“Yeah, besotted.” He bent close and captured her mouth, his hands spanning her narrow waist. He dragged her off the stool and trapped her against the bar, his hands braced on either side of her. A current of desire raced through his body as her fingers furrowed through the hair at the nape of his neck. This wasn’t just some one-sided infatuation, Riley thought to himself. She was kissing him back, her tongue tangling with his, her hands wandering over his body.

The taste of her was like a drug, so incredibly addictive that all he could think about was more. He ran his palms along her waist and then slipped them beneath her shirt, searching for warm, smooth flesh.

Riley couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt the need to completely possess a woman. Most of the women he’d been with the past few years had been nothing more than physical attractions, driven by a hot body and raw need. The truth was, he hadn’t wanted anything more than that.

But this was different. He wanted to know everything about her-what she loved, how she lived, all the tiny details that made her the fascinating woman she was. Still, he wondered if the attraction was intensified because the clock was ticking. She’d leave in ten days and he’d never see her again. Was that the source of his desire?

“I’ve never kissed an American before,” he murmured, his lips barely touching hers. “I don’t think I realized what I was missing.”

She smiled, then pulled him into another kiss. “This is not what I expected when I told the immigration officer I was here for pleasure.”

“Oh, that I can provide.” He nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck. She smelled so good. He’d almost forgotten how nice it was to have a woman to focus on, even if it was only temporary. “Why don’t you finish your lunch and then we’ll go out for a drive. I have a place I’d like to show you.”

He wrapped his hands around her waist and set her back on the stool. She picked up her spoon. “This is really good. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

Riley watched her eat. Unlike some of the girls he’d known, she seemed to enjoy her food. He hated to see a woman pick at her food like a bird. “So, I think we should go out tonight. Find some fun.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yeah. Why not? It’s your first night in Ireland. I think I should try to make it memorable.”

“All right. It’s a date,” she said.

Riley grinned. Now all he had to do was convince Danny to work at the pub tonight-and if things went well, for the next ten days.

“NOW, LET THE CLUTCH out very slowly and at the same time, give it a bit of…I think you’d call it gas.”

Nan focused on Riley’s instructions. She’d been behind the wheel for nearly a half hour and managed to drive no more than five or ten yards at best, and that was on a completely flat road. “All right. Slowly. Slowly,” she said. The car stopped with a jerk, the engine dying. “And I’m going to ruin your car in the process. This can’t be good for it.” She turned to Riley. “Are there no cars in Ireland with an automatic transmission?”

“Of course there are. I just don’t happen to own one. So this car will have to do, unless you plan to see Ireland by bicycle or on foot.”

She drew a deep breath. “All right. One more time. But if I kill it again, we’re done. At least for now.”

“Crossed fingers,” Riley said. “Just a nice smooth switch, one pedal out, then the other in. Feel where the clutch catches.”

She did as she was told, focusing on the clutch as she let it out. And suddenly, she realized what he was talking about. She felt the clutch engage and gave the car a bit of gas. To her astonishment, they started off down the road, the ride smooth.

“Oh, my God!” Nan cried. “I’m doing it. I’m driving in Ireland. I’m driving in Ireland.”

“All right, now let’s shift.”

“No, no, no. Let’s just stay at this speed.”

“Nan, we can’t drive in first gear forever. Shifting isn’t hard once you get going. Just push the clutch in, shift and let it out slowly.” He put his hand over hers on the gearshift. “Ready?”

Nan winced. “Ready.”

“Clutch in. Shift. Clutch out. And there we go.”

She laughed. “All right, now we’re moving. This isn’t so hard. What’s next?”

“Third gear,” he said. “Speed up a little. Clutch in. And shift. Clutch out.”

They rolled along on the deserted road, Nan’s mind spinning with all the things she had to remember. The steering wheel was on the wrong side of the car and the car was on the wrong side of the road. And she had three pedals where there were usually two. And the gearshift made things nearly impossible. But now that she could drive, her adventures could begin.

The truth was, as long as she couldn’t drive, Riley would be required to accompany her wherever she wanted to go. “Stop sign,” she said, pointing down the road. “Stop sign!”

“Don’t worry. Just do what you do in your car. Take your foot off the accelerator and put it on the brake.”

To her relief, the car began to slow as it approached the stop sign. But then it began to shudder.

“Clutch in, clutch in,” he said.

But she wasn’t quick enough and the engine died. They slowly rolled up to the stop sign, the car silent. “I think this would be a good place to stop for today,” she said.

He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “You did a fine job of work there. A few more lessons and you’ll be ready to go solo. Until you’re ready, I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.”

Nan smiled. “Don’t you have to work?”

“Nah, my brother Danny is going to work for me. He’s barely worked all summer, so he owes me some time.” Riley reached over and grabbed her waist. “Come on, let’s switch.” He pulled her on top of him, wriggling toward the driver’s seat.

But the car was ridiculously small and their limbs tangled together until it was impossible to move. “Now I know how those clowns feel,” she said, laughing.

“Wait,” Riley said. “You’re coming very close to un-manning me.”

“You’re the one who wanted to do this!” Nan cried. “We could have used the doors like normal people.”

“Oh, but it wouldn’t have been half as much fun.” Riley finally pulled her legs on either side of his hips. His face was pressed into the side of her chest. “I think maybe we should rest for a bit,” he murmured. “Just like this.”

“Why do I get the idea that you planned this?”

“Oh, I think this is one of those happy accidents,” he said. “And now that you’re here, what are we going to do with ourselves?”

Nan felt her left leg cramping and she stretched it out. But as soon as she did, the car began to roll. “We’re moving,” she said.

He looked out the window. “Is your foot on the clutch?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see my foot.”

They twisted around, Riley trying to get into the driver’s seat. Nan screamed as the car continued to roll.

“Ow,” Riley shouted as she kneed him in the groin.

“Sorry, sorry.”

When he finally settled in the driver’s seat, he pulled the emergency brake and the car stopped. Cursing softly, he shoved the door open and stepped out of the car, then circled around it and pulled open her door.

“What? I’m not driving again.”

He reached in and took her arm, gently drawing her out of her seat. But the moment she stood, he yanked her into his arms and into a long, desperate kiss.

Nan leaned back against the car, surrendering to the feel of his mouth on hers. His hands moved over her body, sending shivers coursing through her. She arched against him as her instincts took control, the need to get closer overwhelming her senses.

They’d known each other for less than a day and yet this kissing had become almost second nature. Pleasure was the only objective and any inhibitions she might have had were gone. She wanted him to touch her, to kiss her, to completely possess her body. She wanted him to strip off her clothes and wrap her legs around his waist and bury himself deep inside her. All these thoughts came rushing forth, shocking her, yet piquing her desire at the same time.

Her pulse pounded and adrenaline rushed through her body. She grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up, running her hands beneath the soft fabric. His chest was smooth and muscular, a soft line of hair running between his collarbone and his belly.

The kiss continued to deepen, but then he broke away. Riley slid down in front of her. He pressed his face to her belly, then slipped her shirt up, trailing kisses across her torso. His palm found the soft swell of her breast and Nan moaned as he ran his thumb over her nipple.

A moment later, he was back at her mouth, kissing her as if he couldn’t seem to stop. She felt weak and powerful all at once-unable to resist yet certain of how much he wanted her. Was it even necessary to slow things down? Or could they just admit where this was heading?

He leaned into her and she could feel his desire, the hard ridge of his erection evident through the faded fabric of his jeans. Nan fought the urge to touch him there, but her curiosity got the better of her. She smoothed her hands over his belly and then moved lower.

His breath caught in his throat and then he growled softly, cupping her face in his hands. “What are you doing there?” he murmured. “Trying to drive me completely around the bend?”

“I’m just having a bit of fun,” she teased. Nan glanced up at him. “Would you like me to stop?”

“I think that would be best for now. But I reserve the right to continue on later.” He looked around, then gave her a quick kiss. “Come on. If we don’t hurry, we’re going to miss the sunset.”

They got back in the car, this time with Riley behind the wheel, then headed down the coast road. Nan was no longer interested in the landscape passing by, beautiful as it was. She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off of Riley. How could a man as beautiful as he was find her desirable?

It had to be the fact that she was American. To him, that meant exotic and men always preferred exotic to ordinary. Or maybe she just looked like someone who would be easy to seduce. Having a vacation affair was much simpler than dealing with a real relationship. Ten days and it was done.

In truth, it really didn’t make a difference why Riley was attracted to her. She wasn’t going to question his desires, especially when hers were just as strong. She’d come to Ireland to lose herself in new experiences, to find an adventure. A passionate affair with Riley Quinn was exactly what she wanted.

The little Fiat headed down a steep hill, then up a rise. Nan glanced out the window, then sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, my God.” She looked over at Riley. “It’s stunning.”

He nodded. “I thought it would be good tonight. There were just enough clouds on the horizon to make it grand.” He pulled the car off the edge of the road. “Let’s go get a better look.”

They followed a footpath to the top of the rise. Below them, the Atlantic crashed against the rugged shore and far out on the horizon, the setting sun had lit the sky ablaze with brilliant pinks and oranges. Soft streaks of color shot into the deep blue sky, nearly touching the first stars that twinkled above them.

“It’s not often like this,” he said. “But when it is, it’s always spectacular.”

Nan wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. Furrowing his hand through her hair, he kissed the top of her head. She felt so incredibly alive standing here with him, all of her senses overwhelmed by him. She was still Nan Galvin, but a better version of herself, a woman comfortable with pleasure. Was this what her mother had experienced?

“What’s the name of this place?” she asked.

“Cod’s Head,” he said. “That’s Ballydonegan Bay. And out there is Dursey Island.” He pointed straight out to sea, to a spot near the sun. “And over there is America. Where you came from.”

Home seemed so far away; not just geographically, but emotionally, Nan thought to herself. Since her father had died, she’d felt so alone in her quiet, empty house. Maybe it wasn’t a surprise that Ireland felt comfortable. It was part of her DNA and half of her family history.

“I need to do something while I’m here,” Nan said. “And I may need some help.”

“Name it,” he said.

“Not too long ago, after my father died, I was going through some things in the attic. I found a box of my mother’s things and inside, there was a packet of letters from Ireland. For years, from the time she left Ireland until she died, she carried on a correspondence with someone named Carey.”

“Is that his Christian name?”

Nan blinked, surprised by his question. “Then it would be a man? I thought maybe Carey was a woman?”

“Could be either,” Riley said.

“She must have talked about me in the letters because this Carey always thanked her for the news. And my mother sent pictures, too. That’s why I thought she was a woman. Maybe a good friend she met on her trip? She could even be a distant relative. But she lives in Ballykirk, or at least she did twenty-seven years ago.” Nan looked up at Riley. “I want to find her. I want to know what my mother was like when she was my age.”

“Is that important?”

“There are so many conversations that we never had a chance to have,” Nan said. “And I know so little about her. My father didn’t like to talk about her, so I didn’t bring the subject up. And her parents died when I was a teenager and I never really had the courage to ask them before that. I don’t know why, but I have to know everything I can. And after reading the letters, Ireland was the best place to start.”

“Do you have an old address?”

“There was only just the name of the town. I assumed that the town was small and the postmaster probably knew everyone.”

“Tomorrow, after breakfast, we’ll go ask at the post. That’s a fine place to start.”

“You don’t think it’s impossible, then?”

“Ireland is different from the States,” Riley said. “People usually stay closer to home.”

“I have ten days to find her,” Nan said. And ten days to find herself. Who would she be when she got on the plane to go home? And how would her life change after that? A tiny sliver of fear shot through her, but she brushed it aside.

Adventure sometimes came with risks, but for the first time in her life, she wanted to take those risks.

AFTER WATCHING the sunset, they’d taken a long drive along the coast of the Kenmare, then drove along the river valley to Glengarriff, where they stopped for dinner. For Riley, it had been the perfect first date, full of conversation and laughter.

He hadn’t wanted it to end but he knew as soon as he took her home it would probably be over. He wasn’t sure she’d ask him to stay. They barely knew each other. And though she enjoyed kissing him and touching him, that might be where it all stopped. In an attempt to prolong the night, he decided to take her back to the Hound.

The pub was busy for a Monday night. The boys from the local rugby team had decided to stop by for a pint after their match and had brought their opponents with them. A couple of the lads had invited Nan to play darts with them and she’d happily agreed.

Riley watched her from across the pub, ready to rescue her if any of the boys got bold with her. She seemed to be having fun, but every now and then she’d glance his way and smile, as if they shared a secret.

“She’s a pretty young thing,” Danny said, leaning over the bar. “Where’d you find her?”

“She’s staying in the cottage,” he said.

“I thought you said some old lady had let the place.”

“I was wrong.”

“Well, now, there’s a lucky mistake. Just watch yourself, boyo. It’s wouldn’t do to fall in love with her. Americans always go home.”

“I know,” Riley said, nodding. He took a long sip of his ale then noticed the group around the dartboards getting a bit rowdier than before. “I think it’s time to take her home. Before they all start drooling on her.”

As he wove his way through the patrons, Riley couldn’t help but wonder just what he was doing. Danny was right. Nan would be leaving in ten days. Falling in love with her would be an exercise in futility. But holding back his affections wouldn’t be right, either. He wanted to surrender to this crazy infatuation and see where it led. And if it led to sadness in the end, then he could handle it.

When Riley reached the group, he slipped his arm around Nan’s shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Up the yard, Quinn!” the boys shouted. “We’re in the middle of a tournament here. You can’t steal our star player away now.”

“Get back, you shower of savages,” Riley teased, pushing them aside. “She’s had enough of you warped eedjits.”

“Not without a fight, we won’t,” Donal Duffy said, stepping forward and raising his fists.

“I’m not going to fight you,” Riley said. He turned to see a fearful expression on Nan’s face. “He’s just joking.”

Donal puffed out his chest. “No fists. We’ll sing her a song and you sing her a song. She chooses the winner. And if she chooses us, she stays until the end of our little tournament.”

The rest of the boys got behind the scheme, lining themselves up and clearing their throats. “You really think you can beat me?” Riley said.

“The way I hear it, you’re not all that good,” Donal said.

“All right. You’re asking for a pint of humiliation, Donal Duffy. But I accept your challenge.”

Donal stood in front of his mates and began the verse of “Wild Rover,” a well-known pub song. As soon as he sang the first note, Riley knew he had him beat. What woman wanted to hear a drinking song?

“‘I’ve been a wild rover for many the year,’” Donal sang in a decent baritone voice, “‘and I spent all me money on whiskey and beer, and now I’m returning with gold in great store, and I never will play the wild rover no more.’”

The team joined him in the chorus, belting out the words with drunken glee, stomping to accent some of the words. “‘And it’s no, nay, never! No, nay, never, no more, will I play the wild rover. No, nay, never, no more!’”

The song went on for three more verses before it ended in a raucous finish that included a bit of dancing and some out-of-tune harmonies. When it was over, Nan clapped along with the crowd and congratulated the singers on a job well done. Then she leaned close to Riley and whispered in his ear. “Please tell me you have something better. I’m tired and I want to go home.”

“All right,” Riley said, holding out his hands to quiet the crowd. “This is an old song but one that’s perfect for the moment.”

“Oh, Jaysus, please tell me he’s not going to sing ‘I Love You, I Do,’” Donal muttered.

Riley smiled smugly. Everyone in Cork knew Riley had written the pop hit, a silly little ballad that had paid a tidy sum in royalties for the past five years. One of Britain’s most popular boy bands had recorded it, and when it hit the top of the charts, Riley had become a local celebrity. Unfortunately, it instantly became his most requested number whenever he performed.

He grabbed a chair and put it in front of him, then lifted Nan to stand on it. “I won’t be singing that song,” he muttered. The patrons grew silent as they waited for him to start. Standing in front of her, Riley began to sing the first verse of “Parting Glass,” a traditional Irish tune about saying farewell.

“Of all the money e’er I had, I spent it in good company.

And all the harm I’ve ever done, alas, it was to none but me.

And all I’ve done for want of wit to mem’ry now I can’t recall.

So fill to me the parting glass, good night and joy be with you all.”

Nan stared down at him, a smile playing on her lips, her eyes shining. He sang the second verse to the crowd, turning to the boys as the words turned to friendship. But for the last verse, he turned back to Nan. Summoning up all the emotion he could find, he took her hands and sang from his heart.

“If I had money enough to spend, and leisure time to sit a while,

There is a fair maid in this town, that sorely has my heart beguiled.

Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips, I own she has my heart in thrall.

Then fill to me the parting glass, good night and joy be with you all.”

The crowd was silent for a long time after he ended. Nan’s eyes were teary and when she jumped off the chair and threw herself into his arms, everyone erupted in applause. The sound of their cheers faded as Riley kissed her, his fingers tangling in her hair as he molded her mouth to his.

“So, I guess that means I won?” he murmured, looking down into her eyes.

“Take me home,” she said.

“That I will,” Riley said, the turned to shake Donal’s hand. “Good song.”

“Ah, I should have known better,” Donal muttered. “Ye even brought a tear to my eye.”

Riley wove his fingers through Nan’s, then drew her along to the door. When they got outside, they strolled up the street to where they’d parked the car.

“That song was beautiful,” Nan said softly.

“I sang it for you.”

“No one’s ever sung a song for me before.”

They stopped beside the car. “Well, I had to make it good,” Riley replied. “I was getting a bit tired of sharing you with those lads.”

He pulled open the door and waited till she was inside, then circled to the driver’s door. They drove out of the village and up the narrow road to the cottage. She hadn’t left a light burning, so he held tight to her hand as they walked up the dark front path. When they reached the door, she turned and faced him.

“Thank you for today. For everything you did to make my first day in Ireland memorable.”

He bent close and touched his lips to hers. “Glad to be of service,” he murmured. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

She opened the door behind her and backed inside, pulling him along with her. “You could help me find the lights,” she said.

He reached around the door and flipped the lights on in the parlor. “How’s that?”

“Better,” she said.

With every moment that passed, Riley found himself more determined to deny his need. They’d barely known each other twelve hours and all he could think about was pulling her into the bedroom and getting them both naked. He’d even put a few johnnies in his wallet just in case he needed them. “You’ll be all right up here by yourself?”

“Yes,” Nan said, nodding.

“I could stay a little longer, if it would make you feel more comfortable.” He slipped his arm around her waist and bent close to kiss her. It had almost become second nature, covering her sweet mouth with his, feeling her body in his arms.

As his tongue traced the crease of her lips, Nan sighed. She slipped her hands beneath the front of his jacket, pushing it over his shoulders. Riley tugged it off his wrists and let it drop to the floor. “I guess I’m going to be staying for a while?”

“A little while,” she said with a smile. She shrugged out of her own jacket, then drew him along to the sofa. “I don’t have anything to offer you to drink.”

“I’m not thirsty,” he said.

The need between them was growing with every fleeting touch. He sat down on the sofa, then pulled her down into his lap. Riley drew her mouth to his, hungry for her taste, his tongue plunging deep.

She tugged at his T-shirt and with a soft curse he pulled it off over his head and threw it aside. Her hands were all over him as he kissed her, smoothing over his shoulders, running down his chest. The sensation of her fingertips on his skin sent a flood of desire rushing through him.

He was already hard, his response to her instant and intense. She shifted on his lap and he groaned softly. It was clear that she took the sound for impatience and Nan quickly discarded her own shirt, leaving her in just a lacy scrap of a bra.

Riley pressed his lips to the curve of her neck, then slowly moved lower, his tongue trailing over silken skin. When he reached the tops of her breasts, he tugged the lace aside, revealing the soft swell of flesh.

Nan raked her hands through his hair and tipped her head back, moaning softly as his tongue teased at her nipple, drawing it to a tight peak. Riley knew if he didn’t stop now, there would be no stopping at all.

Nan wasn’t just some girl he’d picked up after a show, someone he’d enjoy then never see again. She was someone he genuinely liked, someone he wanted to spend time with. And he wasn’t willing to do anything to jeopardize that.

Slipping his arm beneath her knees, he stood up and carried her into the bedroom. The room was dark and cold, the breeze from the sea blowing through the open window. He gently laid her on the bed, then sat down beside her, bracing his hand on the other side of her body and leaning close.

“I’m going to leave,” he said, dropping a kiss on her lips. “I don’t want to, but I think it’s probably a good idea. You need to get some sleep.”

“I want you to stay,” she said, reaching out to smooth her palm over his cheek.

“We’ve known each other for about twelve hours,” he said. “I think maybe we should wait for another twelve to twenty-four before we sleep together…?”

She smiled. “All right.”

“No one will ever accuse me of not being a gentleman,” Riley teased.

“I already know you’re not a gentleman,” she said. “You called me prissy.”

“Well, I was wrong, Miss Galvin. You’re the most unprissiest woman I’ve ever met.” He bent close again and kissed her. “I’ll see you in the morning. Come down to the pub and I’ll make us both breakfast.”

He stood up and walked to the bedroom door, then turned back to her. “Good night, Nan.”

“’Night, Riley.”

Riley walked through the cottage and out the front door, into the cool night. He drew a deep breath and smiled to himself. He’d never in his life turned down a warm and willing woman. But then, he’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Nan. The best things in life were always worth waiting for.