Swept Away!. Lucy Gordon

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СКАЧАТЬ my qualities are endearing. You just haven’t noticed that yet.’

      ‘You wish!’

      After lifting the ladder down he stored it away beneath the porch, before following her inside the house they had been sharing for almost six months. As pretty much his best friend, Molly had been Ryan’s sparring partner for as long as he had known her, and he had to admit it was fun spending time with her again. Almost like being kids again—well, almost.

      Turning a pine stool around to sit astride at the breakfast bar, he watched as Molly moved around the kitchen. She was the same Molly he had known for nearly fifteen years, and yet since she’d come home from the States she was different somehow. Lately he’d found himself watching her, trying to see what it was.

      With her back to him as she filled the kettle with water, she felt the hair prickling on the back of her neck and smiled softly. ‘You’re staring again, Callaghan.’

      ‘Who, me?’

      ‘Yeah, you.’

      ‘You know, you’ve really got to stop this ego trip. Thinking I have nothing better to do with my time than stand and stare at you.’

      Turning the kettle on, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. ‘Sit and stare, you mean.’

      She moved to lean her back against the counter top, folding her arms across her chest before awarding him one of her patented ‘don’t kid me’ glares. ‘And it’s not the first time this week. What’s up?’

      Ryan plastered his best innocent look across his face and blinked at her with dark eyes. ‘What do you mean, what’s up? There’s nothing up. Am I not allowed to look at you now?’ Green eyes narrowed suspiciously as she watched his little act. ‘You are such a bad liar, Callaghan. Come on, spill it….’

      ‘Spill it? Ah now that would be one of those quaint American sayings of yours, would it? I make that about the twentieth one you’ve used this week.’

      ‘Don’t change the subject.’

      ‘I’m not. I’m just saying, that’s all. How long do you think it’ll take to make you Irish again after spending six years going all Yank on us?’

      Molly unfolded her arms and slowly moved across the room to face him over the breakfast bar. ‘I have always been Irish and I will always be Irish, you great rat, and you know it!’

      He leaned towards her. ‘Now, Molly O’Brien, did you just go calling me a rat again?’ His dark eyebrows raised in question as his eyes shone at her. ‘Because you know that would be the third time today you’ve done that, and that would mean you owe me.’

      Her eyes widened and then closed as she shook her head. He had been teasing her about her new accent and her Americanised ways ever since her return. He knew how riled she got at the taunts. ‘I don’t believe you. You tricked me into losing a bet and now you’re going to gloat, aren’t you?’

      If her eyes had opened a second sooner she’d have seen him smile affectionately at her. As it was, he looked cool and calm when she looked into his eyes. ‘What’s the payment, rat face?’

      ‘Ah now, I’ll need to think about that for a while.’ He stood up and replaced the stool before walking towards the doorway. ‘There’s no point in rushing these things—takes all the fun clean out of them. I’ll tell you later at the dance.’

      ‘We’re gonna have to pre-set these, you know.’

      He stopped at the door, grinning over his shoulder. ‘Now, where would be the sense in that? I’ve got to keep you on your toes somehow.’

      Molly lifted an available tea towel and threw it in his direction. ‘Go away and do Park Ranger things before I’m forced to do something I’ll regret, Callaghan.’

      His deep laughter forced an answering grin from her. ‘There you go, making promises you can’t keep again. One of these days I think I might just stick around and see what that thing you might regret might be…’.

      ‘That’ll be the day.’

      Ryan lived to be outdoors. In all the time Molly had known him he’d been his happiest under an open sky. Being Head Park Ranger and running the daily operations of a large forest park was the ideal job for him and Molly knew it. She smiled at him across the crowd at the summer barbecue and dance held for the residents of the local village of Boyle, wondering how the villagers managed to take him seriously.

      At that precise moment two businessmen and their wives—though it had to be said probably more so the wives—stood enthralled as he spoke. He was a well-respected member of the small community, and yet they never seemed to see the clownish side of him that Molly knew so well. She wondered how they’d react if they knew about the wicked sense of humour he possessed, and the rare talent he had for torturing his friends.

      Taking a sip of warm red wine, she smiled up at the wide expanse of darkened blue sky. She breathed deeply. It was good to be home again. Nowhere else filled her soul with the same peace she felt in Ireland. Then she turned her attention to the crowd. It was a hobby of hers, people-watching.

      The local community had grown considerably since she had been away, and there were more than a few faces she didn’t know in the crowd. A sign of the times, she guessed, with a new bypass making it easier for people to commute to the larger towns for work. But the surroundings hadn’t changed at all since the summers she had spent running wildly through the park’s many acres and swimming in the often chilly waters of its lough.

      As she turned to look across the dark waters a voice sounded close beside her.

      ‘Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met?’

      Molly had long since ceased to believe in the tingling sensation described in romance novels when a woman heard a stranger’s voice for the first time. But all of a sudden she understood it now. The man’s voice was deep and undeniably sexy. Intriguing, even.

      Turning, she found herself looking up at the brightest of blue eyes. The handsome tanned face was one she didn’t recognise.

      She smiled, unconsciously brushing her auburn hair behind her ear. ‘No, I think I’d probably have remembered meeting you.’

      The fair-headed man smiled. ‘That’s exactly the reason I knew I hadn’t met you.’ He extended a large hand towards her. ‘I’m Nick—Nick Scallon. I just moved into the house over by Doon Cottages.’

      ‘Aha, that’d make you the property tycoon guy we’ve all heard so much gossip about for the last few months. You’re running the holiday cottages now, then, I take it?’ She shook his hand and was embarrassed to find he held onto her smaller hand for a moment longer than he needed to. ‘You’re the main topic of conversation in the supermarket, you know.’

      ‘I’ll just bet I am.’ He looked down at her hand in his. Seeming to remember he needed to let go of it, he allowed it to slip from his hold. ‘And you would be?’

      Impressed was nearly her answer, but she managed to replace it with another. ‘Molly O’Brien. I, uh, live over at Ryan Callaghan’s.’

      ‘Oh.’

      She nearly fell over herself to correct СКАЧАТЬ