‘What did you say?’ That stung. Clearly he didn’t care about her.
‘That’s been my problem. The women in my life wanted Killorgally and Conor Byrne, celebrity chef, more than they wanted me.’
‘Poor you.’ Did he honestly think that she was going to forgive him and let him saunter back into her life, back to a temporary relationship? She wanted all or nothing. No half-measures.
‘Yes. I did feel sorry for myself about that for too long. I took up with the wrong women. You’re different.’
‘You betcha,’ said Hannah. ‘And I’m not interested anymore.’
‘What?’ Conor’s surprise was almost comical.
‘I deserve more than a fling. I’m staying in Ireland for me. Not you.’
That had taken the wind out of his cocky, confident sails and she slowed her stride, allowing Izzy, Jason, and Fliss to catch up with her. Conor looked back, the expression on his face puzzled and she felt a tiny spike of satisfaction. He was used to women falling at his feet. Well, this one wasn’t going to.
The fence loomed up out of the driving rain and everyone naturally huddled around Conor and Hannah as the wind swirled into their faces.
‘We need to get the fence down but without damaging any of the posts and rails,’ shouted Conor over the wind howling around them. Everyone in rain-slicked coats and hoods nodded, their torches bobbing, looking rather like a group of dementors. ‘They all need to be neatly stacked on the other side of the boundary.’ Conor pointed to the dry-stone wall that marked the separation between Murphy and Byrne land. He consulted with Seamus and Peter for a moment as they studied the fence, tugging at the rails nailed to the posts, working out the construction.
‘OK, it’s probably best if we organise into groups. Seamus and Alan, Peter and Jason, Fliss, Izzy and Meredith. Me and Hannah, we’ll prise the rails off and the rest of you carry them over to the wall.’
If Conor thought he was going to win her over by pairing up with her, he had another think coming. Ignoring her glower, Conor directed everyone to different sections of the fence. ‘Once we’ve got a few off, we’ll start trying to loosen the posts. Luckily, Murphy and his nephew obviously believed this fence didn’t need to last too long, so they never bothered cementing the posts in.’
Hannah followed him to their allotted section and he handed her a claw-footed hammer to start pulling the nails out. Her fingers slipped on the handle several times and she bruised and scraped her knuckles on the rough wood but she didn’t say a word, just kept working, hunched into her coat.
‘You all right?’
‘Fine,’ she replied, ignoring the curl of longing at the concern in his voice. This was the perfect way to halt things between them. Somewhere along the line she’d realised she wanted a proper relationship. One without a pre-agreed expiration date.
They pulled the first rail away and immediately set to work on the second.
‘Are you going to give me the cold shoulder all night?’ he asked as they moved onto the next set of rail.
‘Who benefits the most from this?’ responded Hannah, with a roll of her eyes and a sigh.
‘What do you mean?’
She ripped out a nail with perhaps more force that the poor thing required, accidentally pinging it across the field. ‘Any building on Murphy’s land is going to ruin the view from your new house. Do you think I want to be out here in the pouring rain?’ She gave an angry yank at a second nail which screeched against the wood as the plank yawned away from the post and fell to the ground. She wanted to pick it up and bash Conor around the head with it. Knock a bit of sense into him.
‘You’ve made assumptions from the very first time we met,’ she said, marching onto the next post as Izzy scurried forward to collect the wood, darting anxious glances at them both. ‘You assumed that I knew who you were, that I want to be a cook, that I’m here to get in with Adrienne, that I’ve designs on your house.’ She whacked the back of the post with an almighty swing to loosen the plank from the upright. It popped out straight away and fell with a thud into the sodden grass. She took another swing at the lower rail and that popped out with one blow. She was on a roll and already striding to the next post. Conor dodged out the way as she swung again.
‘I’m not like Polly Daventree. I don’t want anything from you. I’m my own woman with my own successful career and you’re too stupid to see that.’
Conor caught her by the shoulders. ‘If you’d just slow down and give me a chance to explain.’
‘To explain what? Conor, I knew you were a chancer the first time I met you. I’ve always known I’m not the sort of woman you would keep. Yeah, I’m pissed off that you thought I was using you, but let’s face it, I’ve never been in your league.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘I’m safe, sensible Hannah Campbell, who lives by the book and doesn’t take risks. You’re Conor Byrne – you’ve lived all over the world, dated models and actresses. An exciting, glamorous life. I don’t compare to that.’
‘Now who’s being the eejit?’ He gave her a gentle shake and then to her surprise kissed her. It was a gentle, coaxing kiss, his hands sliding up her wet face. ‘Why do you think I left the shoe on the bed?’
‘To be done with me.’
‘Don’t you believe in fairy tales?’
‘No.’
