She shouldn’t pry. She should leave things as they were and simply accept that she had no business getting involved with a man who her landlord and almost a stranger. But, for once, Sarah let herself follow her impulses. Cian was nowhere nearby, so what could it hurt? “Well, for starters, I suppose… How old is he?”
Nell stuck her tongue out. “Starting chaste, are we?” She took another bite of cake, savoring it for a moment before she continued. “Twenty-nine. And his birthday’s in March. Now it’s my turn. Why don’t you have a boyfriend or a husband?”
“You didn’t say I had to answer questions in exchange.” Sarah felt a thread of panic at the notion of sharing things willy-nilly with a stranger. People in Boston didn’t do that. Of course, that was probably why the rest of the world thought they were stand-offish, but…they just didn’t. “And how do you know I don’t have one? A boyfriend or husband, I mean.”
“I’m nosy.” Nell shrugged, grinning impishly up at Sarah. “And as for the other… You’re not wearing a ring, so you’re not married or engaged. And you don’t strike me as the type of woman who would step out on a boyfriend, nor would Cian chase a woman who belongs to another, which makes me think you’re not taken. But I don’t understand why.”
“Um.” Sarah blinked at the stream of chatter, having to pay close attention to understand Nell’s thick accent. “That’s a long story. I suppose because…well…”
Her words trailed off. This was where she was supposed to sob over Ross leaving her, wasn’t it? Or proclaim that she’d always been unlucky in love. But hadn’t she just realized that she’d always chosen boyfriends who wouldn’t be able to hurt her? That she’d always made the safe choice?
Since that was a bit heavy for someone she’d just met, she simply shrugged. “I haven’t met anyone I wanted to be with lately.”
Nell’s pale eyes narrowed, and Sarah knew that she wasn’t buying it, but it was the truth. She hadn’t met anyone who’d struck a chord with her lately—except for Cian.
“My turn,” she said quickly, before Nell could press for more. “Do his parents live here?”
Immediately she wished she could take it back—did it sound like she was hinting that she wanted to meet them? It had just been a random musing, since both Cian and Ainsley lived here. Despite her worry, Nell just shook her head.
“No, they moved to County Clare to be closer to Rowen’s parents—Rowen being Cian’s mother. They visit back and forth as much as they can.”
Nell stuffed a giant bite of cake in her face then spoke around it, the words muffled. “Where do you get your makeup? It makes you look so polished.”
“My makeup?” Sarah frowned, a hand reaching for her cheek. She wasn’t wearing much today, just a dusting of powder, a hint of blush, and a quick swipe of mascara. That said, she did have a weakness for the good stuff. “It’s from a store in the States called Sephora. I think you can order online, though.”
At least, she hoped so, because if she ran out of anything, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to replace her NARS blush in Orgasm in the small drugstore she’d read was in the next town over.
“Seph-or-a.” Nell tested the name on her tongue. “That’s a strange word, but it’s true enough that you look lovely. I don’t wear makeup often, because the results tend to be a bit terrifying when I do it myself, but since I haven’t had sex in a year, I’m thinking I should give it a try. The times Ainsley’s done me up I’ve looked all right.”
Sarah choked on her tea. She’d just met this woman, which meant that it was far too soon to be discussing sex lives, but it seemed that Nell had moved on, running a hand over her ragged bob of platinum hair. “I hack at my own hair, too, when it needs it. Maybe I should think about that.”
Sarah continued quickly before Nell could be off and running again. “Um…favorite color?”
“Red,” her guest answered immediately. “He looks fetching as anything in a red button-up, I’ll tell you. He once dyed his hair red when he was seventeen, but…” She made a face that indicated well enough how that venture had gone, and Sarah laughed.
“That bad, huh?”
“Ainsley took a picture and showed it to the girl he was going steady with at the time. Cian was hopping mad, I can tell you.”
Somehow, Sarah could imagine it: a skinny, teenage Cian chasing his sister around their house for ruining his chances at young love. Nothing too terribly far-fetched or intimidating. She decided to move on to the more hard-hitting questions.
“Does he own this building? And the pub—is that his, too?”
Nell nodded, running a hand thoughtfully through her platinum blond waves. “He had a bit of a rough start, Cian. He and Ainsley’s parents were always reasonably well off, but he was a bit rebellious. Liked to show off, all the way into his early twenties. But eventually, he settled down. Realized it was time to act like an adult. Then he started letting his father help him make some investments and traveled the world to broaden his horizons, that sort of thing. From what Ainsley says, he’s made out quite well.”
Sarah found herself impressed. For Cian to have turned everything around the way he had—to be a property owner and so well-traveled at his age—well, she could almost say she envied him. She herself had done little world traveling. She’d been too busy planning her life, making lists, and ensuring everything went the way it was supposed to. Sarah’s parents always instilled in her that without a strong foundation, her future would crumble. The moment she graduated college—since, of course, she’d been forbidden to pursue what she’d really wanted—she’d hunted for the perfect apartment, the perfect job, the perfect man.
But none of that turned out the way she imagined.
“What about women?” She changed the subject abruptly, reminding herself that this conversation wasn’t about her. She was supposed to be learning about Cian. “Has he been married before? Had any serious girlfriends?”
It was the first question that seemed to give Nell pause. She bit her lip, her look contemplative. Then she sighed, and her lips curved upward in a rueful smile. “Not that I know of. He’s always been a bit of a ladies’ man, on that I’ll be honest. But I don’t think that’s anything you have to worry about.”
Sarah merely eyed her skeptically. Really? She didn’t need to worry about the tattooed, pierced lady’s man who had her in his crosshairs? Somehow, that was hardly comforting. “How do you figure?”
“Well, two or three years ago, when Cian came home from traveling abroad…he was different.” Nell’s dark eyes met hers as she continued. “If he’s kept going on with women the same way he had before, he’s kept it under wraps. Either that, or he’s changed. I’m more inclined to believe the latter.”
“And why is that?” Sarah wanted to stop. Truly she did. She had no business digging into the man’s affairs like this, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to know everything she could about Cian. It was only so she could make a more educated decision. Yes, that was the reason.
“Because of Ainsley.” Nell poured herself a fresh cup of tea, adding a spoonful of sugar. “She and her brother have always been thick as thieves. If Ainsley says he’s done a complete one-eighty, I’m inclined to believe her.”
Was that so?
Sarah tried to look disinterested as she helped herself to another piece of cake—which, she reminded herself, was entirely excessive. If she ate this way every day she’d soon double her body weight. “I was just wondering… I mean, it doesn’t matter, does it? He’s busy, I’m going to be taking my classes, so I’ll hardly have the time to—”
“Come on, Sarah.” Nell interrupted her gently, nudging her thigh where they sat next to one another. “Don’t sell yourself short. You may never have another chance like this. And besides.” Nell’s face darkened as she scowled threateningly. “If Cian acts like an insufferable ninny, both Ainsley and I will thump him a good one.”
And just like that, the somber mood evaporated. Nell’s expression was so
silly that Sarah couldn’t help but burst into laughter, almost choking on her cake. After both had calmed down, conversation lightened substantially, and Sarah was surprised how quickly she took to Nell. She had always considered herself a cautious person, and she felt as if she hadn’t been in Ceanmore long enough to truly know anyone.
But Nell just had a way about her. Her blond guest eroded Sarah’s barriers with jokes and plied her with cake until she wasn’t sure she could move, and by the time the clock struck twelve and Nell made a low sound of surprise, she felt she knew at least one person in Ceanmore fairly well.
“Keep the rest of the cake. You’re going to need it.”
Chapter Five
Two days later, Cian’s head was pounding.
It seemed as if he had been in the tiny office for most of the evening, and there were no painkillers to be found in the pub. Of course, he could take the jaunt two blocks to the chemist’s and pick some up, but that possibility presented two obstacles. The first was that he’d run away and neglect to finish his work at all, and the second was that he’d have to get past his sister, who had spent the day doing a remarkable impression of a fire-breathing dragon.
Ainsley had been in a mood all day—the best he could discern was that the man she’d been on two dates with had also been dating someone else. He knew her well enough to leave her be while she cooled down, so when she’d abandoned the bar to go bang around in the kitchen, he hadn’t said a word, even though he could have used her hands on the floor.
It seemed that, for the moment, he would have to just deal with the stabbing pain in his temples. Instead of an aspirin, Cian nursed a whiskey and water, hoping it would help, if even a little bit.
He hated paperwork. In Cian’s opinion, one of the worst things about running a pub was the paperwork. There were order slips to organize, receipts to file, beer and food to order every few days, and a whole host of licenses and regulations that had to be taken care of at regular intervals. At this juncture, he was considering following the advice Ainsley had given him. When he opened Wild Irish, she’d suggested that he hire a manager to take care of such mundane tasks for him, but he’d been determined to do it all.
And now, here he sat, wanting nothing more than to drink himself into a stupor and wishing that all the paperwork would magically do itself.
Cian hoped to be home in bed by two in the morning, and that was an enthusiastic estimate. As things stood now, it was only eight in the evening, and he was fairly sure his head was going to explode if he looked over one more page of ledgers.
With a low groan, he straightened, cracking his spine. It felt like he had been bent over the desk in the stuffy office for an eternity. If he was lucky, he might be able to sneak out and get himself a pint without Ainsley noticing.
A pint would most definitely help his own rising temper, so Cian decided to brave the fray. He stuck his head out of the office, looking down the hall before he stepped out behind the bar. Luckily for him, it seemed Ainsley was still in the kitchen—which gave him time to pour himself a Guinness in peace.
“Skulking about, are we?”
He looked up to see Nell sitting at the bar, grinning smugly at him, and he hissed out a sigh of relief. Ainsley’s best friend was like a sister to him, but she was more likely to try to cleanse his aura than to screech at him. He often poked fun at her for it, but today he’d take it if she asked. “Needed a break.”
“That bad?” She sighed, working at a whiskey and ginger. “I helped myself. I hope you don’t mind. I figured Ainsley was hiding somewhere, licking her wounds. She’s in a state.”
“When isn’t she?” Cian chuckled, shaking his head. Ainsley was overwhelmingly a sweet-tempered woman, and she’d been an amazingly sweet-tempered child. Unless someone pissed her off, that was. Then she was known for getting her revenge any way she could. He supposed she didn’t need his intervention where her man was concerned. She’d very likely find a way to get back at him.
Once she cooled down, that was.
“She goes for all the wrong guys.” Cian took a swallow of his cold brew and repressed a groan of satisfaction. Almost immediately, his headache began to ebb. “But she won’t listen to me.”
“She’s always been stubborn.” Nell grinned. “Just like her brother. But I’ll warn you if I see her coming.”
Cian made a face. “Thanks for that, but don’t lump me in with her,” he argued, only half-serious. “We’re completely different breeds.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Nell feigned enlightenment, touching her chin thoughtfully. “Ainsley sticks with Irishmen while you go for the lovely foreign girls, that right?”
Cian merely eyed her in warning. This was the third or fourth time in the past two days that Nell had tried to prod him about Sarah Mercer. The first time it happened, he was sure that Ainsley had put her up to it. The two of them were always working together to get underneath his skin, and despite adoring them, he’d had to put his foot down more than once. Recently, however, he’d begun to think Nell was acting alone.
“Nell, don’t.”
“Don’t what?” She fired back, and Cian cursed himself for biting. She had dangled Sarah’s name like a juicy piece of bait, and he took it without thinking. “I wholly endorse your fancying her, you know. She’s a sweet little thing.”
“And how would you know?” He arched a brow as he contemplated ordering something for supper. His stomach was growling, and he couldn’t remember the last meal he’d had.
“Well, I’ve gone to see her, of course. And she’s been into the shop once or twice.”
Cian almost spit out his beer. She’d what? How on earth had she wiggled her way into Sarah’s confidence so easily? The pretty little blonde didn’t seem like the type to trust easily. She was reserved and shy—it took quite a bit of coaxing to bring her out of her shell. Nell had somehow achieved it with what seemed like minimal effort.
And Cian was insanely jealous.
When he thought about Sarah, he couldn’t help wanting her. She was easy on the eyes, certainly, but it was more than that. Those tiny sparks of bravado and passion that he’d first noticed in her messages showed up when he least expected them, and he wanted, badly, to bring them out of her again and again. She captivated him.
And he meant to make her his. At least, as soon as she came to him.
The night after their card game in the pub, he’d gone home hot, hard, and wanting. Though he told himself the punishment for being impulsive was sleeping just like that, ultimately he hadn’t been able to avoid touching himself. What kind of man could hold out while remembering the way Sarah felt in his arms? How soft and yielding she was, how she opened up to him the moment he touched her where she needed…
He would have been up all night if he hadn’t headed straight for the shower and taken matters into his own hands, stroking his rock-solid erection in a tight fist, imagining that it was Sarah’s mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. He’d come harder than he ever had, just with that image in his head, and yet the next morning he’d woken aroused again, his need having only grown with the filthy dreams he’d had of her in the night.
He never would have imagined that the intriguing woman who had booked his flat would be so breathtakingly beautiful—or bring out such a fierce possessiveness in him. Since their game, he’d seen her twice in town but had held back, wanting her to come to him. That didn’t, however, mean he wasn’t pissed when he saw other men ogling her like bloody idiots. Everyone wanted to know who she was and where she’d come from—and he wanted them to stay away from her. In Cian’s world, Sarah was already his, and there was bang all anyone else could do about it.
Except his sister and Nell. They might very well drive him crazy.
“So you’ve spoken with her.” He tried to keep his tone casual. “How’s she settling in?”
“Oh, she loves it here,” Nell gushed enthusiastically. “Goes on and on about how lovely everything is and how friendly the people are. You�
��d think the people where she comes from are great brutes, the way she talks!”
Having been to the States his fair share of times, Cian could heartily agree with Sarah that American hospitality wasn’t their finest point. At least, not compared to small towns in the UK.
“And she likes the flat?”
“Adores it. She says it’s very cozy. You’ll have to thank Siobhan.” Siobhan was the college girl that helped him clean out his empty flats before visitors arrived. She was sweet, outgoing, and a hard-worker. For a while, Ainsley had insisted that she had a crush on him until discovering that Siobhan was more inclined toward the fairer sex.
Just remembering how embarrassed his sister had been brought a smile to his lips.
“She told me just this morning that she’s waiting on some books for some classes she signed up for.” Nell’s face wrinkled in distaste. “Who in the world takes classes during their vacation? She’s a quandary, she is.”
A quandary Cian would love to sink his teeth into. But that, of course, was only on the assumption that the lady was willing. And, honestly, at this point, Cian was inclined to think he’d scared the hell out of her more than won her confidence.
If his assumptions weren’t enough, there was the fact she hadn’t been back to the pub in two days, and he was fairly certain that she was avoiding him. If she was, she was. There was nothing he could do about it. As much as she intrigued him, he wouldn’t chase her down if she didn’t come to him.
Not yet, anyway.
Just then, the door to the pub opened to the sound of distant thunder. Cian frowned ruefully. After three days of gorgeous weather, the news report that morning heralded more storms. He could only hope that Sarah didn’t venture out in any more of them. When he looked up to welcome the newcomer, his words dried in his mouth.
Kiss of the Irish (Foreign Fling) Page 7