NAN SMELLED the coffee before she opened her eyes. She sighed softly and buried her face in the down pillow, stretching her arms above her head. This was becoming a habit after three nights together. Riley was up at the crack of dawn, scribbling things in his notebook and strumming on his guitar, and she slept until at least nine or ten.
Yesterday, they’d taken a drive to the Burren, a vast stone plateau in County Clare. Though the landscape was stark and harsh, it was still beautiful. Mounds of colorful wildflowers punctuated the gray slabs of stone and everywhere she looked, there were birds and small animals to watch.
They’d had a pub lunch in Ennis, then stopped in every village along their route to Lough Learie. A drive around the lake was followed by a gourmet dinner in Killarney and a long ride home.
Yesterday had been the first day she’d followed her carefully planned itinerary. And though she’d seen everything on her plan, it had been marred by the sight of the signs for Shannon Airport. She hadn’t wanted to think about going home, but there was no ignoring it as they drove through Limerick.
Though she’d tried to limit the depth of her affection for Riley, the attempt had been a pitiful failure. With every minute that she spent in his presence, she grew more attached, more certain that he was the man she was meant to find.
It had all been such a whirlwind, her feelings coming so quickly. And she’d tried to tell herself that this somehow diminished the truth in what she felt. It wasn’t love, but merely an infatuation. And yet, every instinct told her the opposite. She was falling in love with Riley and she could do nothing to stop herself.
There had been so many moments when the words had come to her lips, when she’d nearly blurted them out. How would he react if he knew her true feelings? Was this still a holiday romance to him, an affair that would come to an end when she got on the plane to go home? Or was he feeling something deeper? She groaned softly. Though the physical part came so easily between them, the emotional part was messy and complicated.
“I know you want this,” Riley whispered in a singsong voice.
Her eyes still closed, she reached out for the mug but found only empty air. “Are you withholding my coffee for sex? You are a desperate man, Riley Quinn.”
“I’m a happy man,” he countered, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
She pushed up, bracing her hands beneath her and opening her eyes. He’d already showered, his dark hair falling in damp strands over his forehead. All he wore was a pair of jeans, zipped but not buttoned at the waist. “Morning,” she murmured.
“God, you are pretty in the morning. Your hair is sticking up in little spikes. And your eyes are all sleepy.”
Nan reached up and combed her hair with her fingers. She knew exactly how she looked in the morning and she certainly wouldn’t describe it as cute. “Are you going to give me that coffee? Or would you like me to smother you with this pillow?”
He held out the mug. “I walked down to the pub and brought up some soda bread and a fruit salad that Katie made. And orange juice.”
“You brought me breakfast?” Nan smiled. “Come here. That deserves a kiss.”
He leaned over and collected his reward, lingering as his tongue touched hers. It was the perfect way to wake up, quietly and romantically, not jarred to consciousness by an obnoxious alarm clock. “What time is it?”
“Just after ten,” he said. “Early.”
“I could spend my entire vacation in this bedroom,” she said.
“I thought you liked running around like a mad woman.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I spent months mapping out everything I wanted to see. I got all the guidebooks and made lists and researched everything. And now—” She giggled. “I don’t give a feck!”
“Bravo,” Riley said. “I also have some news for you. I did a little more detective work and I found out where Carey Findley lives. You remember, Tiernan Findley’s father.”
Nan sat up. She’d been so caught up with Riley that she’d pushed her search aside. A twinge of guilt twisted at her heart. Was it that easy to forget everything that brought her to Ireland?
“Carey Findley lives about thirty kilometers from here in a town called Kealkill. I put in a call but he wasn’t home, so I left a message.”
“What did you say? Did you tell him about me?”
“I just asked him to contact me at the pub. That’s all. Now we just have to wait for him to call.”
Nan wrapped her arms around her knees and stared down at her toes. “All right. I guess that’s good. When he calls, we’ll go visit him and then we can talk about the letters he wrote to my mother. How long do you think it will be before he calls back?”
“We’ll give him a day or two and if he doesn’t call, we can take a drive over to his place and visit.” Riley reached out and smoothed his hand over her cheek. “So, what are we doing today?”
“Your choice,” she said. “Take me somewhere interesting. Show me something wonderful. Somewhere Irish and historical. Can we go kiss the Blarney stone?”
“No,” Riley said. “Absolutely not. There are so many better things to do than hang upside down from the top of a castle and kiss a stone that thousands of people have put their lips on. From here on out, your lips belong exclusively to me.”
“Yeah, kissing the stone doesn’t sound very appealing.” She took another sip of her coffee. “What have you been doing with yourself since you got up?”
“I’ve been working on a song I want to sing tomorrow night.”
“Sing it for me now.”
He shook his head. “No. Not until I’m ready.”
“Do you just sing at the Hound?”
“No. All over Ireland. A lot in Dublin. Sometimes with my band, sometimes alone. Every now and then, we sing in London. I’ve written some songs for other singers and they’ve been successful. One was just used in an Irish film.”
“So you like what you do?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes. And sometimes I think I ought to quit singing and get on with my real life. Become an upstanding citizen with a respectable job that provides a better living.”
“Why?” she asked softly. “If you’re happy, money shouldn’t make a difference. I’ll never become a millionaire working in a library, but I love doing what I do.”
“I was never sure I wanted all the stuff that goes with fame and fortune anyway. You have to spend so much time trying to hang on to it that you never get a chance to enjoy it.”
“I wish I had a talent,” Nan said. “My mother used to be a wonderful artist. I have some of the watercolors she did. And my father could play the piano by ear. But I can’t do anything exceptional.”
“You drive me wild in the bedroom,” he said. “And everywhere else. That’s exceptional.”
“I suspect you have a lot of women willing to drive you wild,” she said, reaching out and running her hand down his bare chest.
“Until you walked out of those doors at Shannon Airport, I’d been perfectly sane for many months.” He grabbed her coffee and took a sip. “I’ve told you about my work, what about yours? You work in a library.”
“I’m the assistant director of special collections,” she said. “I work at a university library.”
“What does that mean? What kind of collections? Comic books? Marbles?”
“I’m second in charge of rare books and maps and old letters and everything that’s not a regular book and is old and valuable. And when researchers come to the library, I help them find what they need. We just had a huge collection of maps donated to the university and I’m in charge of cataloging them.”
“That sounds interesting,” he said.
“You are such a liar,” Nan teased as she took her coffee away from him. “It sounds boring. You thought I was an old lady.”
“I was gravely mistaken. And you set me straight on that.”
She wrapped her arms around her knees, holding the warm coffee between her hands. “Your job is so much more exciting. People scream and clap for you. You make people cry when you sing. I bring people musty old books and make them sneeze.”
“Well, if you could do something different, what would you do?”
Nan leaned back into the pillows and sighed. Though she was naked from the waist up, she had no thought to cover herself. She was completely comfortable with Riley. And thrilled when he looked at her body with such obvious appreciation.
“When I was younger I wanted to be a heroine. Like Jane Eyre or Elizabeth Bennet. Before that, it was a princess. I lived inside books so I figured working in a library was a good choice for me.” She paused, wondering how much more she could reveal without appearing completely ridiculous. But this was Riley. He seemed to accept her exactly the way she was. “I wrote a children’s book last year.”
“You did? What’s it about?”
“About a monster that lives in a little girl’s closet. After my mother died, I used to be so afraid to go to bed, afraid that I’d wake up the next morning and my whole world would be changed.” She paused. “My mom died in the middle of the night and my dad woke me up in the morning to tell me.”
Riley slipped his hand around her nape and pulled her into a soft kiss. “I’m sorry.”
Nan smiled. “Before she got really sick, she used to sit and read to me every night before I fell asleep. And before she walked out of the room, she’d tell all the monsters to go away and come back another day.” She shrugged. “It’s just a silly story. I don’t have any illustrations for it. I’m not very good at art.”
“You could find someone to illustrate it. Danny went to art school.”
“Is he an illustrator?”
Riley shook his head. “He studied sculpting. But I’m sure he’d know someone to contact.”
“He must know how to draw if he went to art school.”
“I’ve never really seen him draw, except when he does his designs. He makes iron fences and gates and andirons. And these wild sculptures fashioned out of junk. People from all over the world commission him to work for them. He’s kind of famous.”
“As famous as you?”
“With a different crowd,” Riley replied. “His fans are all really rich people with big houses. Mine are all drunkards and pub rats.”
“I’m your fan,” she murmured, reaching out to slip her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans.
“Come on, now. Get yourself up out of bed and into the shower. We have a busy day ahead.”
“I think jet lag is starting to set in.”
“You’ve had four nights to recover. I’m starting to believe you’re just a layabout.” He grabbed her coffee and set it on the bedside table, then threw the covers back and scooped her naked body up into his arms. “Shower first, then breakfast.”
“No,” Nan cried. Being with Riley was much easier without clothes, since he always seemed to be determined to take them off.
When they reached the bathroom, he turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm, then gently pushed her inside. “That will wake you up.”
But Nan wasn’t about to lose her advantage. Grabbing the front of his jeans, she unzipped them, then shoved them down over his hips. “Don’t you want to join me?”
“Nan, that shower is like a bleedin’ coffin. It barely fits one, much less two.”
“It will be fun trying, though.”
He kicked out of his jeans and stepped inside, pulling the curtain shut behind him. “See, I told you. Cramped quarters.”
Their bodies were pressed so closely together beneath the water that just the slightest movement became incredibly erotic. “Can you reach the soap?” she asked.
He wrapped his arms around her and grabbed the soap, then struggled to put it in her hand. “Maybe if we swapped places,” Riley said, gripping her waist and trying to turn them both around.
But as they moved, Riley backed against the shower curtain. Off balance, Nan bumped into him and he began to fall back into the curtain, which was caught under his foot. He reached out to steady her, but Nan was in no position to help him regain his footing.
The rod popped off the top of the shower and in a tangle of arms and legs, they fell onto the bathroom floor, their slippery bodies skidding on the vinyl curtain. The scene was so utterly ridiculous that all Nan could do was laugh.
Riley growled. “Look at what we’ve done. I’m going to have to take this out of your deposit.”
“It wasn’t my fault. You’re the one who fell.”
“You’re the one who insisted I join you, even after I warned you it wouldn’t work.”
She lay on top of him, wriggling her hips against his in a provocative way. “Oh, poor thing. It is such a hardship to take off your clothes and have a shower with a naked and willing woman. Whatever will you do?”
Riley grinned. “Willing? Willing to do what?”
Nan leaned close and pressed a kiss to the center of his damp chest. “I don’t know. What do you have in mind?”
He was already hard and he moved beneath her, his shaft rubbing against her belly. “I’m sure if we lie here for a little while longer, something will come to us.”
“WHERE ARE WE GOING?”
“To Bantry,” Riley said as they strode along the waterfront in Ballykirk. “We don’t have a lot of time, but the weather is fine, so I thought we’d go by water instead of driving.”
“Really. We’re going on a boat?”
“We’re going to go on this boat,” he said, pointing to a small fishing vessel tied up at the end of a weathered dock. Riley untied the stern line and tossed it onto the deck. “Hop on.”
He helped Nan on board, then stepped into the tiny wheelhouse and started the engine. Nan stood next to him, watching everything he did with curious eyes.
“Is this your boat?”
“No, it belongs to my uncle. It’s an old boat he restored, one that my great-grandfather used for the family fishing business. It’s too small to use for commercial fishing now, but the family uses it for fun.”
She ran her hand along the gleaming brightwork. “It’s beautiful.”
“I have to get the bow line. Open that locker there and grab a mack and a life jacket.” Riley slipped past her and tossed off the last line to the quay, then returned to the cabin. He carefully maneuvered the boat away from the pilings and headed out into the harbor.
Nan pulled on the mackintosh, but it was so huge she looked ridiculous. She held her arms out, her hands completely hidden by the oilskin. Riley chuckled. “There has to be a smaller one in there. Give that one to me.”
She slipped out of it, then searched the locker and came out with a jacket more her size. Riley helped her fasten the life jacket over the mack, then put on the larger size. “Now, Wellies,” he said.
“Wellies.” She peered into the locker and pulled out a pair of rubber boots. “Wellies?”
He nodded. Though they were usually worn over stocking feet, she pulled the pair on right over her shoes. Riley nodded as she did a model’s turn in front of him.
“How do I look?” she asked.
“Adorable.”
He’d been with a lot of women over the past ten years, and some of them he’d liked a lot. But he’d never met anyone quite as game as Nan. No matter what he suggested they do, she seemed to take it in stride, happy to simply spend the day in his company.
He’d always wondered how his parents had managed to make such a success of marriage. But now, he realized that they loved to spend time with each other. It didn’t matter what they were doing, as long as they were doing it together. That’s what it was like with Nan. Easy, relaxed, with nothing but fun in front of them.
Riley navigated out of the harbor at Ballykirk, then turned inland into Bantry Bay. As the boat chugged on, he scanned the coastline, searching the gray rocks for movement. When he finally caught it, he pointed. “Look. Seals.”
Nan stepped out onto the deck, bracing her hands on the rail. “Right there,” she cried, jumping up and down in childish delight. “Oh, look, there’s a baby, too.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Can we get closer?”
“Not here, it’s too shallow,” Riley said. “But maybe a bit farther down the coast.”
She came back into the cabin and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I didn’t realize there were seals in Ireland.”
“They’re the stuff of legends here. Haven’t you ever heard of selkies?”
“No,” she said. “There wasn’t anything in my guidebooks about that. Tell me.”
“Well, by day, selkies are seals. They swim in the sea and sun on the rocks. But at night, they shed their skins and become human. Not just average humans, but extraordinarily beautiful men and women, seductive, with dark hair and pale skin. Ordinary people see them and they instantly fall in love. But the only way to keep a selkie is to find their skin, which they always carefully hide after they come out of the sea. If you can hide a selkie’s skin, then you can keep them human.”
“And are they happy together, the humans and the selkies?”
He shook his head. “A selkie will always long for the sea. They’re drawn to it, to the beaches and the cliffs and the crashing waves on the shore. At night, they stand on the shore, their sad songs drifting out on the sea breeze.”
“Can they ever go back?” Nan asked.
“Only if they find their skin. And then, once they go back, they can never return again. They still watch over their children though and are said to swim with them when they’re in the water. They say that children of a selkie have the dark hair and pale skin of that parent, but they also have webs between their fingers and toes.”
“I love that story,” she said.
“Oh, there are many tales of selkies,” he said. “Some of them very romantic and very tragic. My da used to tease us that my ma was a selkie. We were never really sure if it was the truth until we got a little older. Once, my little brother and I tore the house apart looking for her skin. She was furious at us, but my da was the one who got the punishment for telling us the tale.”
“I can understand how you’d believe him. I believe you and I know for a fact that seals can’t become humans.”
He held up his hand. “See. There’s a slight webbing there.”
They searched the coast together and found more seals. Riley got closer to the shore and a few of the more curious animals swam near the boat. “They’re not afraid,” he explained. “Ireland is a sanctuary for seals and whales and dolphins. So they don’t have to worry about hunters or fishermen.”
Riley picked up an empty bucket from the deck. “Here. Bump this on the side of the boat. They’ll think you’re dumping bait and they might swim closer.”
“Can we feed them?”
He shook his head. “It’s not a good idea. They’ll turn into beggars and spend all their time on the docks looking for tourists to feel them.”
“Like the sheep on the pass?”
He nodded. “But they recognize the fishing boats and they’ll come out looking for discarded bait. There are harbor dolphins in the bay, too. And out in the Atlantic, you can see whales this time of year.”
“It’s all so beautiful,” she said. She pushed up on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for showing it to me.”
They pulled into Bantry Harbor an hour later, after exploring the coastline and following a pair of dolphins through the water. Riley helped Nan out of her boating wardrobe before leaving the boat for dry land.
“It’s a market day, today,” Riley explained. “You’ll need to know that all prices are negotiable and if they think you’re a tourist, they’ll expect you to pay full price.”
As they walked along the quay toward the quaint market district, Riley was greeted by some of the locals, fishermen and farmers who sold him their wares for the pub. They all insisted on introductions to Nan, engaging her in small talk as they tried to convince her to buy.
As they strolled, they listened to a few of the local musicians—an old man playing Beatles songs on a battered piano and a boy singing songs to an out-of-tune guitar. Riley grabbed a handful of coins from his pocket and dropped them in the boy’s guitar case, then nodded. “Keep at it, lad. You sound grand.”
Nan smiled at him as they continued up the street. “That was nice,” she said.
“I used to come here to market day with my folks and they’d let me busk for a few hours. It used to kill my brothers when I came home with a punt or two and all I had to do for it was sing.” He pointed to a pub with outdoor seating. “They have the best sausage sandwiches in all of County Cork. Why don’t we have a bite and then we’ll walk up to the gardens.”
They found an empty table and Riley ordered them a few pints of Guinness and a couple of sandwiches. Nan must have been hungrier than she let on, because she devoured the sandwich in a matter of minutes. He ordered another, then watched her eat from across the table.
“We have sausage like this in Wisconsin. Bratwurst,” she said. “You’d like them. We cook them on a grill and then put them in beer and onions. I live near the football stadium and on game days my whole house smells like bratwurst.” She smiled at him. “Have you ever been to America?”
Riley shook his head. “Never. But I’d like to see it. My manager says I should go there to perform, to Boston or Chicago.”
“Chicago,” she said. “That’s just a few hours away from where I live. I could come and see you. Or you could come and stay with me and I could show you around.” She glanced at their surroundings. “Although, I don’t think I have sights like this to show you.”
“I wouldn’t be coming for the sights,” Riley said. “I’d be coming to see you.”
“We do have some interesting things. You can go to the top of the Sears Tower in Chicago. Although it isn’t called the Sears Tower anymore. And we have a zoo in Madison. And I’d want to take you down to the terrace at the student union. Oh, and we could go to the House on the Rock. Or the Wisconsin Dells and ride the ducks.”
Riley stared at Nan from across the table, his chin cupped in his hand, his fingers slowly turning the beer glass in front of him. He loved to listen to her talk, even if it was about something he didn’t understand. A house on a rock? Riding ducks?
There were times when he wanted to crawl inside her head and know everything she knew and feel everything she felt. What did she think of him? Was she as infatuated with him as he was with her?
“What are these potatoes?” she asked, holding out a forkful before popping it in her mouth. “I’m going to look like a potato when I leave here, all round and doughy.”
“That’s boxty,” he said.
She took a bite of the boxty, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, this is so good. It’s like hash browns mixed with mashed potatoes. This would be really good with a little garlic. Or maybe some onions?”
He continued to watch her enjoy her meal, but his thoughts focused only on the words she’d just spoken. When I leave here. He knew she was scheduled to leave in five days. He’d promised to return her to the airport. But as they spent more time together, Riley found himself trying to come up with excuses for her to stay. There just wasn’t enough time.
“If you wanted to stay a few days longer, you could,” Riley said, trying to bring up the subject casually. “The cottage isn’t booked for the rest of the summer.”
“I’m on a budget. Ten days was all I could afford.”
“You wouldn’t have to pay,” he said. “You’d be my guest.”
“I wish I could,” Nan said. “It’s already Friday. It seems like the time has flown by so quickly.”
“After the show at the pub tomorrow night, my schedule is completely yours.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Nan said. “I didn’t expect a personal tour guide twenty-four hours a day.”
He picked up her hand and wove his fingers through hers, then kissed the inside of her wrist. “I think I’m a little more than that,” he murmured.
A wicked little grin curved the corners of her mouth. “I’ve enjoyed our adventures in the bedroom. And yes, you are more than a tour guide.”
“I like showing you around. I’m helping you avoid all the cheesy tourist spots.”
“Where are we going tomorrow?” she asked. “Wait, no. I don’t want to know. You can surprise me.”
“I’ll think of something good to do. I have band rehearsal in the afternoon, but we can spend the morning together. And we might have a ring from Carey Findley.” Riley picked up his fork and scooped up some of the boxty and fed it to her. “Tell me about your life at home in…”
“Madison,” she said. “Madison, Wisconsin. It’s a big college town. There’s a huge university there. I live in a little bungalow, the house that I grew up in.”
“What about friends?”
“Are you asking about boyfriends?”
Riley shrugged. Of course that’s what he was asking about. “Is there anyone back home you’ve been dating?”
“There is this guy at the library. Larry. We’ve been out a few times. But…”
“Larry? No, you can’t be with a guy named Larry. Larry wears sensible shoes and thick glasses and carries his lunch in a briefcase. He drives an ugly car and likes to tend his lawn for a craic.”
“Craic,” she said. “Translation please.”
“Good time,” he said. “And you.”
“I’m a craic,” he said.
She laughed. But Riley didn’t think she was taking any of the conversation seriously. To her it was all just amusing chat. “Yes, you are.”
“Feck Larry,” he muttered beneath his breath.
“I used to think, if I really wanted to get married I could marry him. He’s a nice guy and he has a good job. He loves books so we have that in common. But now, I think not.”
“Hell no.”
Nan giggled, nodding her head. “Hell no! You’ve ruined me for all other men. I’ll never find anyone quite like you.”
“Then don’t,” Riley said, turning serious. “Stay here and you won’t have to.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“You can do anything you want,” he countered.
“Can I tear off all your clothes right now?”
“No. I’m afraid they’d toss us out before you had a chance to finish your potatoes.”
“I rest my case,” she said. “I love these potatoes. I’m developing a much deeper appreciation of the common spud since I’ve been in Ireland.”
Riley cursed beneath his breath. He fought the urge to tell her how he felt, to express to her how much he loved being with her. But every time he even broached the subject, she found a way to diffuse the emotion behind his words.
Maybe it would be better saved for a quiet moment in the bedroom. After all, they’d only known each other less than a week. That was plenty of time to realize that something very special was happening between them. He at least wanted her to acknowledge it.
They would have to have a serious talk tonight. He didn’t want her to leave on Wednesday. Hell, he didn’t want her to leave at all. And he wasn’t going to be satisfied until she understood exactly where he stood.
NAN LOVED the market day in Bantry. The atmosphere was lively and the stalls colorful. There were vendors with fresh produce and fragant cheeses, salty olives and savory pastries, so many things to tempt her. Before long, she and Riley were lugging around bags of items she’d felt compelled to purchase.
They made a trip back to the boat, packing the perishables away in a cool spot before heading back for more. Though they’d meant to visit a large estate at the edge of town, Nan was determined to find the perfect memento to represent her trip to Ireland before it was too late. She’d looked in Killarney and in Ballykirk, but nothing had struck her fancy.
She pulled Riley to a stop in front of a small clothing store and stared at a hand-painted scarf in the window. “Look at that,” she said. It was a colorful map of Ireland printed on a silk scarf, the kind of thing she could frame rather than wear. “That’s pretty.”
“Pretty ghastly,” he said. “Isn’t that something an old lady would wear?”
“No, I’d frame it. I love maps.”
“Then buy a real map. There’s a great bookshop in Ennis that sells antique maps. I can take you there.”
“Will we have time before I leave?” Nan asked.
Riley cursed beneath his breath. “Do we always have to be talking about you going home?”
“I want to find the perfect memory,” she said. “I’m going to go in and look at it. Maybe they have some others.”
“I’ll wait out here,” he said.
“You don’t want to come with me?”
“I’m not a big one for browsing for ladies’ things,” he said. “Unless, of course, you’re shopping for lingerie. Then I’d be happy to be of assistance.”
Nan laughed. “There’s a pub across the street. Go get yourself a half-pint and I’ll join you when I’m done.”
“You won’t be long?”
“Fifteen minutes at the most. And then we’ll go to the gardens.”
She watched as Riley started off across the street, then turned and entered the small shop. A bell rang above her head as she opened the door and the shopkeeper smiled at her from behind a small counter.
“Hello, there,” the shopkeeper said. “It’s a lovely day outside, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Nan said. “Perfect.”
“Is there anything I can help you find, then?”
“I noticed the scarf in the window,” Nan said. “Do you have any others like it?”
“Oh, yes. Several,” she said, pointing into the display case. “These are one-of-a-kind, you know. Hand-painted by a local artist. Let me show you.”
As she looked through the scarves, Nan realized nothing she could buy would ever be perfect because they were only reminders of the land and scenery. Her most vivid memory of Ireland would always be Riley. Maybe she needed to buy something to create that one perfect memory of him.
“Do you carry lingerie?” she asked.
“I’m afraid we don’t. We have some dressing gowns.”
“Is there any place in town that has lingerie?”
“Burkes,” she said. “They’re a larger department store just around the corner.”
Nan thanked the shopkeeper, then hurried back outside, glancing at her watch. She had ten minutes left before she’d agreed to meet Riley at the pub. She could run in and out and come away with something sexy.
Burkes was a large store with a beautiful red facade of arched display windows. She hurried inside, then asked for directions to the lingerie department. But along the way, a pretty pale green cotton dress caught her eye. It had a deeply cut neck and back and a long, flowing skirt. Hand-crocheted lace decorated the neckline.
She wouldn’t be able to wear a bra with it, which made it all the more provocative, and yet it wasn’t too revealing. It was feminine and sexy, exactly the kind of thing she needed to wear to Riley’s show. The kind of dress that would make him forget all the other women in the room and focus entirely on her.
“Can I try this on?” Nan asked, the lingerie forgotten.
“The dressing rooms are in the rear,” the clerk said. “I’ll be back to check on you in a moment.”
After she closed the door behind her, Nan stripped out of her clothes and bra and pulled the dress over her head. The gauzy material was soft on her skin and clung to all her curves. The skirt came down to midcalf and yet was slit up to the thigh on one side.
“Perfect,” she murmured, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. Nan spun around then examined the low back on the dress. Though she’d never gone out in public without a bra, there was no reason not to feel comfortable in the dress.
Facing the mirror, she examined her breasts and came away pleased with the overall impression. There were a few benefits to being slightly flat-chested.
Nan reached beneath the skirt and skimmed off her panties, then smiled. She could wear the dress with nothing underneath, she mused. Riley would probably enjoy that even more. She ran her fingers through her hair. Maybe a pretty thong would be better.
Nan winced. She’d never worn a thong in her life. They’d always looked so uncomfortable. And a bit too racy for her tastes. A knock sounded on the door. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” the salesclerk asked.
Nan poked her head out the door. “I need lingerie. Panties. Maybe a thong? Something lacy. White, I think.”
A few minutes later, another knock sounded on the door and she opened it, only to find Riley standing outside. “Let me in,” he whispered, a devilish grin on his face.
“No! You can’t come in here.”
“There’s no one around. Come on, let me in.”
“How did you find me?”
“I saw you from across the street. What’s taking you so long?”
“Go away,” she said. The salesclerk would be returning in a few minutes with her lingerie and any attempt at surprising him would be gone. Nan closed the door, but he knocked again. Frustrated, she let him in.
“Sit,” she murmured. “And pull your feet up.”
Riley did as he was told, wrapping his arms around his legs. “Pretty dress,” he commented. “Are you wearing underwear?” He reached for the hem and peered beneath her skirt, but she slapped his hand away.
“Are you stark naked underneath that dress?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Jaysus, I shouldn’t have come in here.”
A third knock sounded at the door and Nan shushed him. She opened the door a crack and took the handful of hangers from the clerk. “Thanks,” she murmured. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Oh, take all the time you need,” the clerk said, as if she knew what was going on inside the room.
When she shut the door, Nan could feel her cheeks flushed from embarrassment.
“Oh, now, what’s this?” Riley asked, pointing to the thongs.
“Stop,” Nan said. “I just needed something to wear for tomorrow night. I didn’t bring along anything pretty. I don’t really own anything pretty.” She smoothed her hands over the skirt. “Not like this.”
“You’d look sexy in a potato sack.”
“Since there are no potato sacks in this store, I’m going to have to settle for this dress,” she said.
“I like it, but I don’t approve of going without drawers.”
“That’s why I wanted to try the thongs.”
“Well, look at these things,” he said, taking the hangers from her hand. “You might as well go without.”
“I thought you’d find it sexy,” she said.
“Yeah, me and a hundred other blokes at the pub. I don’t want my girl running around without her knickers. It sends the wrong message.”
Nan took a slow breath as she toyed with the lace at the neck, her gaze fixed on her reflection. “Do you like the dress?”
“I’d like it better if you wore a T-shirt underneath it.”
“I can’t believe you’re so prudish,” she said.
He stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist, then brushed a kiss across her lips. “Yes,” he murmured. “I love the dress. I think you look incredible. With or without clothes.” He pressed her back against the mirror, his hands wandering over the curves of her body, the fabric of the dress creating a delicious friction.
“Don’t you think the clerk will be able to see that we’re both in here?” She pointed to the space beneath the door. “She can see our feet.”
“I’m sure this isn’t the first time this changing room has been occupied by two.” He kissed her neck. “I really like this dress.”
“I do, too.”
“Did you buy the scarf in the other store?”
Nan shook her head. “I didn’t love it. I want to find something perfect.”
Riley reached into his pocket and took out a small box. “Here. I found something that might do the trick.”
Nan smiled. “What is this?”
“Open it,” he insisted. “It’s nothing grand, but it’s very Irish.”
She opened the box and pulled away the tissue paper to find a gold ring nestled inside. Nan took it out and looked at it, the design vaguely familiar.
“It’s a claddagh,” Riley explained, bending close, his lips softly touching her cheek. “The heart is for love, the hands for friendship and the crown for loyalty.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, glancing up at him.
“Now, there’s a trick to wearing it,” he said. “And I’m not sure how it all goes. I suppose it doesn’t really matter. Some people wear it as a wedding or engagement ring, I suppose on their left hand. So wear it on your right.”
She slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand. “It fits perfectly.”
“Well, that was a lucky guess,” he said.
“Thank you,” Nan murmured, holding her hand out to stare at the ring. “I love it. It’s exactly what I was looking for.”
“Good,” he said. “I’m glad I was able to help.” He drew a deep breath and nodded. “Well, I’ll just be getting out of your way. I’ll meet you outside then?”
She nodded. Nan opened the door and Riley looked both ways before stepping out. After she closed the door behind him, she sat down on the low bench and stared at the ring. Her heart fluttered and she tried to take a deep breath, but it was impossible.
What did this mean? Was it custom in Ireland to give a ring to someone you barely knew? Nan was hesitant to attach any sentiment to it beyond friendship, but that didn’t stop her from wondering if he had other intentions in giving it to her.
Yes, it was Irish. And maybe that’s all it was, Nan thought. But deep inside her, in the furthest corners of her heart, she wanted it to mean more.