Chapter 22
“Does fun with you have to be so painful?” Griffin patted the bandage over his shoulder and upper arm where he’d gotten a new tattoo.
“Pain is the prelude to pleasure.” Clare shrugged her jacket over her own bandaged arm. “It’s going to look epic.”
He openedthe red-painted door to a nearby pub. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into it.”
“It’s for your own good.” She wagged her finger. “The next time, you forget your password, you’ll be glad we did it.”
That was because they had matching Crosses of Brigid tattoos with two halves of a password embedded on the four legs of the spirally crosses.
“Bet you didn’t know this tattoobinds you to me, little fairy.” He slid into a booth after she selected one. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“It’s the same in reverse, my big griffin guy.” She picked up a plastic menu card and swatted him. “You have to come to me if I need you.”
“Joined by Celtic knots, and let no man cut us asunder.” He made a fist and bumped it with hers. “Will we go to the abbey tomorrow? I’msure the guys following us are lost by now.”
“Let’s go about it in a roundabout way,” she said while her eyes focused on the menu. “I want to show you more of living in the present. You must be hungry. What is the sensation you feel? What makes your mouth water? A boxty or a burger? What about the crisp, fresh coolness of a salad? The creaminess of a hearty stew. The bitterness in a draughtof stout.”
Was she delaying or reneging on giving him back the Heart of Brigid? While he looked forward to new adventure and a life without regrets, his family treasure still belonged to him.
Griffin felt a prickly sensation between his shoulder blades. What if Clare was trying to make off with the Heart of Brigid?
Whether it was magic or not, it was a large diamond and quitevaluable. She could be distracting him with this day of fun while her friends hid it in a better location.
“Remember our deal,” he reminded her. “If you prove to be my Brigid, I promise to fund your movie. It means you have to have my best interest in everything you do.”
“Haven’t I shown that to you?” She pressed her body against his side. “I’m helping you with life and living inthe present. We’ll take off for the countryside tomorrow morning. For tonight, let’s make believe we’re in love. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Call him easy. He was like a teenager who’d never been let out, only because he didn’t remember being in love or doing anything daring.
He had to love a crazy woman—especially one who practically sparkled and made his heart bubble like shaken champagne.
“Sure, little fairy. I’ll gladly stay in the moment with you. Tonight. One night. Completely together in every way.”
He waited for her answer with a galloping heart. He’d never, at least in his memory, propositioned a woman. Heck, he’d always held out for his beloved Brigid.
But this Clare Hart, who seemed determined to tie herself into the knotty problems of his life, wantedto prove she was Brigid.
Would she actually put herself out for him? Or was it all a big bunch of blarney in search of a love story?
“Will a single night lead to another?” She pressed her hand on his forearm.
“Now, who’s not living in the present?”
Clare wasn’t sure what had gotten into her. Had she agreed to sleep with Griffin? Take him on for his single night? Tonight?
She couldn’t concentrate on the food she’d ordered, and she spoke and laughed on autopilot. Griffin took up all the space in the booth and sucked up all the oxygen in the entire pub.
He seemed relaxed and was relishing hisbowl of ramen noodles with slabs of pork belly. He surprised her with his deft use of chopsticks and his obvious enjoyment of Japanese beer, and he looked as calm as a barfly at his favorite watering hole.
She’d thought of him as an old-fashioned Irishman, and it hadn’t occurred to her until he propositioned her that he was very much a twenty-first century male.
So much for courtingand chaperones. But then again, they had spent the night on a twin bed together, and even though he wasn’t handcuffed, he had kept his hands to himself.
Maybe she was reading too much into his single night statement. Pretending to be in love didn’t mean sex. It simply meant sharing and caring, right?
Her traitorous body shivered with a web of tingles, and she couldn’t help wonderingwhether being with a man who owned a castle was epic enough for her first time.
