No. She meant that she was beginning to regret having come, but she understood exactly what had brought her so irresistibly. Or rather, who. In a plush Dublin hotel foyer Finn Delaney’s attraction was no less potent than when he had hauled her flailing from the sea. When she had clung to his nearly naked body on a sun-baked Greek beach.
She swallowed. ‘I thought we were having dinner. Not playing tourist.’
‘Sure,’ he said slowly. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘Starving.’ It wasn’t really the truth, nor even close to it, but she was here now, and at least dinner would provide distraction techniques. She could busy herself with her napkin and sip at her wine and hope that the buzz of the restaurant would dilute his overpowering presence. Then maybe the evening would be quickly over and she could forget all about him.
‘Then let’s go.’
‘Finn—’
The hesitant note in her voice stilled him. ‘What?’
‘You must let me buy you dinner.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
She shrugged awkwardly. Surely in some small way she could repay the debt she owed him, and in doing so give herself a legitimate reason for being here? ‘I owe you. Don’t forget, you saved my—’
‘No!’
The single word cut across her stumbled sentence and in that moment she got an inkling of what it would be like to cross this man, was glad that she wouldn’t.
‘I’m buying dinner,’ he said unequivocably. ‘I invited you and it’s my territory.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, and Catherine—it was no big deal. You had a little cramp and I pulled you out of the water, okay? Let’s draw a line under it and forget it, right?’
She wondered if there was anything more attractive than a modest hero, but she heard the determination which underpinned the deep voice and nodded her head with an obedience which was unusual for her. ‘Right,’ she agreed.
His face relaxed into a smile and his gaze was drawn to the direction of her feet. Flat heels, he noted. ‘You wore sensible shoes, I see.’
He made her feel like Little Miss Frump! ‘I didn’t wear spindly stilettos in case we were walking to the restaurant!’ she returned.
‘Good. Good because we are walking,’ he replied evenly, though the thought of her wearing sexy high heels momentarily drove his blood pressure through the ceiling. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
They walked out into a warm summer evening, where the streets of Dublin were filled with people strolling with presumably the same purpose in mind.
‘Have you booked somewhere?’ asked Catherine.
Surely it would sound arrogant to say that he didn’t need to? ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got us a table.’
He took her to St Stephen’s Green—stunning and grand and as beautiful as anything Catherine had ever seen. And tucked away, almost out of sight of all the splendour, was a small restaurant whose lack of menu in the darkened windows spoke volumes for its exclusivity.
But they knew Finn Delaney, all right, and greeted him like the Prodigal Son.
‘It’s your first time here? In Ireland, I mean, and in Dublin in particular?’ he asked, when they were seated at a window table which gave them a ringside seat for people watching. And people-watching was what Catherine normally loved to do. Normally. Except now she was finding her normal interest had waned and she was much more interested in watching just one person.
Trying not to, she shook her napkin out over her lap instead. ‘Yes, it is.’ Did he think she had flown out especially to see him? Some kind of explanation seemed in order. She shrugged. ‘You said it was the most beautiful city in the world, and I thought I’d come and see for myself.’
He gave a low laugh. ‘I’m flattered that you took my word for it.’ Dark eyebrows were raised, and blue eyes sizzled into hers with a mocking question. ‘And is it?’
‘Haven’t seen enough yet,’ she said promptly.
‘Haven’t you?’ His eyes were drawn to the curve of her breasts. ‘Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that.’
Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
WHICH was how Catherine came to be sitting in Finn Delaney’s sports-car late the following morning, with the breeze turning her cheeks to roses and the sky like a blue vault above her head.