"Wow," Irina said after a moment. "That was…that was really good. That made a lot of sense."
"If it helps," Mick said hopefully, "also, it's not spoiling yourself now, is it? It's me spoiling you!"
His fated mate gave a soft laugh. "There's that, too, I guess, yeah." She brushed her palms over the dress, then cast him a cautious glance. "…you're sure you can afford it?"
"Would it help if I showed you my bank balance?" Mick asked wryly. "I can, yes. Not to brag like, but I could afford it at five times the cost without noticing it, if you want to know the truth of it all." He could afford it at considerably more than that, too, but he was a little afraid the thought might make Irina seize up.
As it was, she hesitated a long while, gazing down at the dress before finally biting her lower lip and nodding. She whispered, "Okay. If you're sure," and glanced up at him again.
"I'm positive," he promised in a murmur. "There's nothing more in this world that I want than to spoil you a little. I think you might need it."
"Oh, I'm fine," Irina protested, but Mick gave her a slightly stern look and her resistance mostly melted. "I am," she insisted. "I'm in Ireland, for heaven's sake. I'm taking place in a dance competition I've spent my whole life working toward. It's a dream come true, even if I hadn't also met someone amazing. I don'tneedanything else…"
"Well, let's try, and then you can decide."
Irina laughed and stood, the dress still gathered in her arms. "All right. When you put it like that…all right. I'm willing to give it a try."
CHAPTER 11
Ninety minutes later,wearing the prettiest dress she'd ever owned while sitting at averynice restaurant across from the biggest hunk of a man she'd ever seen, Irina privately allowed as how maybe this 'being spoiled' thing was worth trying.
They'd parted ways just long enough to change clothes. Mick had sworn up and down that Irina's clogs and loose hair were perfect for an informal occasion, but also that his jeans and t-shirt just wouldn't do if he was to take her out on the town. Since there wasn't much parking in Cork city center, and nothing was very far away from each other, they'd walked over on their own to meet outside the restaurant. Irina had gotten there first, and stood nervously outside until she saw Mick's large, unmistakable silhouette coming down the street.
Then, as he'd come closer and his clothes had become easier to see, Irina had nearly bitten her knuckle at howattractivehe was. He was in lightweight trousers now, not really slacks, but maybe linen, and a silky blue button-down that contrasted beautifully with the cream-colored pants. Like everything else she'd seen him in, it all fitperfectly. As he came up to her side, she had said, "You're just gorgeous," and he'd beamed as he'descorted her into the restaurant. Irina didn't think she entirely imagined it when she thought people glanced their way, and then glanced again. They were a great-looking couple, even if she did say so herself.
Now they were nibbling appetizers and had almost finished complimenting each other on how well they looked. Irina said, "Thank you for the dress," for about the fifteenth time, and Mick brushed it away with a smile and a murmur about how he'd love to buy her another one. Many other ones. All the other ones she could ever want.
"You said your gran's from Ireland?" he asked as the appetizers disappeared. "Do you know what part?"
"Westport. County Mayo. I'm hoping to go up there when the competition is over."
"It's a beautiful little town," Mick said. "I've not been there in years, but it won't have gotten worse. Will you climb the mountain?"
Irina's eyebrows rose. "Is this the tallest mountain you were talking about? Cullasharee or whatever?"
Mick grinned. "Carrauntoohil, but no, it's the Reek I'm talking about now. Croagh Patrick, the holy mountain that St Patrick himself went up and stayed for forty days without food. I've climbed it once myself," he said, his own eyebrows lifting, "and I'll tell you, once you're up, I can see why you wouldn't go down again until you were perishing of the hunger."
"The views are that good?"
"Yes, but no, it's that the path back down is a goat trail at best. On the way up it looks like a proper path. On the way back down you can see that the 'path' is really just where the water ran off and that it's lied to you. Although." He raised his palms as if conceding a point. "I've not been up it since the new path was finished, and I hear it's made all the difference. A bunch of local lads took it on themselves to build a safe pathway with naturalstone and hard work," he said with a note of obvious pride. "Saving the Reek, they called it, it was that worn down with the tourists and the pilgrims eroding the way as they walked. But it's better now, safer for the hikers and to the Reek's benefit as well."
Irina started smiling somewhere in the middle of that and was beaming softly at him by the time he finished. "I could listen to you talk forever. Your accent is so wonderful, but besides that, you obviously love it all so much."
"Sure and it's my home," Mick said with an embarrassed little shrug. "It's a grand auld place, for all its faults. I was mad to get out when I was young, but I'm fierce fond of the place now that I'm a wee bit older."
"I think most people want to get out of their home towns," Irina said thoughtfully. "Well, if they're small, anyway. I don't know that anybody is eager to leave New York City, or anything. Why would you be, with everything there is to do there?"
"The cost of rent," Mick said dryly, and Irina snorted.
"It's terrible everywhere, though, so you might as well at least also be in New York, I guess. Or Cork," she said with a glance toward the windows. The street outside was pedestrianized, and the restaurant had outdoor seating that passers-by swerved around, just as they walked around other seating up and down the street. Brightly painted pubs, shops, restaurants, alleys, and—Irina had to admit—the occasional inebriated human filled the whole length of the street, with voices rising up to the low building tops. She didn't think there was anything over four stories along the whole street, and much more of it was two or three. It made things feel homier than tall buildings did. "I could live here."
"Could you now?" Mick asked softly.
Irina's heart skipped a beat, but she answered, "Yes," without hesitation. "It's got everything a person would need. Exceptmy family," she added, making a face. "But still…yes, I think I could."
"You're close with them?" Mick sounded fond and pleased at the idea.
"I am. I have two younger sisters who both think I'm nuts for being completely into Irish dancing, but Mom's really supportive and Dad thinks it's nice, because it was his mom who taught me. My sisters don't remember Grandma as well, or maybe they'd be as into it as I am. Or maybe they're just different people with different interests." Irina smiled, thinking about her sisters. "Daria's about to graduate from high school and Sofia is twelve, so who knows what she'll want to do."
