There was the stutter. He was making her nervous. He was makinghimselfnervous. “I’d like to hire you to help Club Tahoe with the software issues we discussed the other night. If you’re no longer interested—”
“I’m interested.” Her words came out quickly, and she cleared her throat. “Blue Casino is giving me flex time to consult on the side.”
“Oh. Okay.” Was that normal?
Bran shook his head. Didn’t matter. All that mattered was fixing the disaster of a project he’d insisted would be good for the resort.
Bran forwarded paperwork to the email address Ireland provided. And twenty-four hours later, Ireland was hired.
To work with Bran. Closely in the evenings…
God help him.
Ireland strodethrough the front door of Prime the next night, and Bran slowly let out a breath. She wore fitted black pants and a light blue silk top that buttoned all the way to her throat, revealing nothing at all. And yet she stole his breath.
Ireland stirred Bran’s most basic instincts, whether she was yelling at him or making soft sounds when he kissed her. He’d lost his senses the day on the boat, his hands wandering—against his will—across every tantalizing curve within reach.
Until she’d shoved him away.
Smart girl.
He couldn’t be trusted around her. But the club and his brothers depended on him doing just that.
This was a terrible idea.
Bran walked across the restaurant and stopped near the entrance, maintaining a safe distance. “You found Prime okay?”
Club Tahoe was shaped like a T from the back of the hotel. There were shops, restaurants, and the casino that took up the lower level, all hidden from the club’s austere entrance.
“Yes, no problem at all.” She looked at him expectantly.
He was staring. Which he needed to stop. Bran blinked and gestured toward the bar. “Can I get you something to drink before we begin?”
Ireland’s gaze ran along the ceiling, which boasted the same cut glass as the bar, gold accents making it a showstopper and giving the room a reflective element. “Water, please. This place is beautiful.”
Bran rounded the counter and poured water from the bar gun. “My father was a perfectionist. He spared no expense when it came to Prime.”
Her forehead furrowed and she looked at him intently. “I don’t think I ever said so, but I’m sorry for your loss.”
Bran’s fist clenched. It had been over a year since his father passed, and still the anger, frustration, and pain ran fresh. He’d never made things right with his father, and for that, he’d live with regrets.
“Thank you.” He gestured to the back room, needing the distraction. “Why don’t I show you where the computers are set up for the online ordering?”
Ireland nodded, and Bran escorted her to the back, explaining the problems they’d been having. There were no tabletop tablets at Prime, given the upscale nature of the place, but he’d brought a tablet from one of the other restaurants to give Ireland a demonstration of how they worked.Whenthey worked.
She shook her head. “This is basic software and electronics. Why hasn’t the company you purchased it from resolved the problem?”
The restaurant’s new technology was top of the line in food services. Or it was supposed to be.
Bran glanced up and caught sight of James entering the restaurant. “Here’s the man you should address that question to. Maybe the company’s programmer can explain it, because I certainly can’t.”
Ireland looked at James and bit the corner of her lip. “I work best alone…but I understand they’d want their programmer present.”
“Is that what he is?” Bran grumbled. “Seems like all he does is drink my diet soda and chat online. But what do I know?” He gave her a sardonic smile.
Ireland’s eyelids fluttered behind the sexy glasses she wore, her gaze dropping to Bran’s mouth.
His smile fell.Keep it together.She wasn’t thinking about the kiss—kisses. That was all in his head.
