He stopped to study the souvenirs and jewelry in a shop window. “I have nothing here to trade, and Hoyt tells me we can’t use the coin I brought with me. You like baubles.” He flicked a finger at one of the drops in her ears. “So I’ll buy you a bauble on market day.”
“I think we might be too busy to shop for baubles. Come on.” She gave his hand a tug. “We’re here for supplies, not shiny things.”
“There’s no need to hurry. We can have a bit of fun while we’re about it. From what I see, you don’t have enough fun.”
“If we’re still alive in November, I’ll do cartwheels in the street. I’ll do naked cartwheels.”
He shot her that quick grin. “That’s a new and important reason for me to fight. I haven’t thought of the cartwheels, but I have thought about you naked a time or two. Oh, look there. Cakes!”
Sex and food, she thought. If he’d tossed in a beer and a sporting event, he’d be the ultimate guy. “No.” She rolled her eyes, halfheartedly dug in her heels as he pulled her across the street. “We’re not here for cakes either. I’ve got a list. A really long list.”
“We can see to it soon enough. Ah, would you look at that one? See the long one, with the chocolate.”
“Eclair.”
“Eclair,” he repeated, making the word sound like a particularly pleasurable sex act. “You should have one of those, and so should I.” He turned those long, tawny eyes on her. “Be a darling, won’t you, Blair? I’ll pay you back.”
“You ought to be fat as a pig,” she muttered, but she went inside the bakery to buy two eclairs.
And came out with a dozen cupcakes as well.
She had no idea how he’d talked her into them, or the detour into half a dozen shops to browse. She was usually—hell, she was always—stronger than that.
Then she noticed the way the female clerks, other browsers, women on the street looked at him. Tough to be stronger than that, she decided.
He managed to nudge her into whittling away more than an hour doing nothing before she dragged him with her to finish the supply list.
“Okay, that’s it. Foot firmly down. We haul this stuff straight back to the car and head for home. No more window shopping, no more flirting with shop girls.”
“Sure it was shameful the way you poured your charm over that dear woman.”
Blair gave him a bland look. “You’re a real card.” She gestured with her chin. “That way. No detours.”
“You know, the way this village is built—I’m meaning the way the roads are, it’s very like my own. And how the shops are huddled up together. And here, this is very like home, too.”
Before she could stop him, he’d opened the door of a pub. “Ah, there’s a
familiar smell. And there’s music. So we’ll stop for a moment.”
“Larkin, we need to get back.”
“So we will. But we should have a beer first. I like beer.”
Since her arms were loaded, she didn’t put up much resistance when he nudged her inside. “It’s nice,” he said, “after all the walking to sit and have a tankard. It’s not a tankard,” he remembered.
“A pint. They usually say a pint here.” It was the walking, she decided that made her give in. The man was exhausting. And exhilarating.
She dumped purchases on and around one of the chairs at a low table, sat. “One beer.” She held up a finger. “And that’s it. I don’t want any more trouble from you.”
“Have I been trouble to you?” He took her hand, lifted it to kiss her fingers. “Sure I don’t mean to be.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. Have you been playing me? Is this whole thing been your idea of a date?”
His brows drew together. “I don’t know the date. I can’t keep track of the days.”
“No, I meant…never mind. Pint of Guinness,” she told the waitress who came over. “Glass of Harp.”
“And how’s it all going then?” he asked the waitress, and had her beaming him a smile.