‘Of course. It’s going to take a while. But I’m sure you like a slow build-up.’
‘Conor Byrne, are you being filthy?’
‘Not yet.’ He shot her that irresistible lopsided smile.
She sipped at her wine, concentrating hard as she tried to analyse the flavour – again, something she wouldn’t have done a few weeks ago. Black cherries. Leather? No that couldn’t be right.
Conor came over and tapped at the frown lines wrinkling her forehead. ‘What’s wrong?’
She sniffed at the glass. ‘Leather?’
‘Yes. That’s right. Definite aroma of leather.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’ He kissed her nose, as if in reward for her obvious delight. ‘It’s a Barolo from Italy. I get black tea and tobacco as well.’
‘Now you’re just showing off.’
‘Of course.’ He went back to the counter and she heard the sizzle of onions. With a sigh she settled back into the sofa, feeling the glow of her slightly windburned cheeks. It had been a lovely day and, she realised with a quick smile, she felt a little buzzed (OK, a lot) from the fantastic sex. The highlights kept popping into her mind and she hugged herself with smug satisfaction. Conor certainly knew what he was doing but he’d also expressed his appreciation in no uncertain terms. She could still hear his groans echoing in her head.
‘What are you looking so pleased about?’ asked Conor with a teasing lift of one eyebrow.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know,’ she said softly with a quick grin.
‘That’s going to take a couple of hours,’ said Conor, shutting the oven door. ‘What do you want to do?’
‘Weeell…’ she replied slowly.
‘God have mercy on me. You’ve worn me out.’
She laughed. ‘I quite fancy standing here, watching you…’ she paused suggestively, ‘… cook.’
‘The stew’s going to take a while. I thought we could go next door. Light a fire. Make out.’
‘Make out? Isn’t that for teenagers? Besides, you ought to rest. Build up your strength for later.’
‘Later! Hannah Campbell.’
She bit her lip, pleased and surprised by her uncharacteristic boldness. Ireland Hannah was back and she was rather enjoying herself. Although she couldn’t quite forget that at some point she was going home and would be England Hannah again.
‘Conor?’
‘Yes?’ He turned at the question in her voice.
‘This,’ she waved a hand, suddenly shy. She really wasn’t that sexually experienced.
‘This?’ he teased, and she blushed.
‘Well, you know.’
‘I do.’ He came forwards and kissed her on the lips, sitting down next to her on the sofa.
She searched for the words. ‘I… I get that it’s temporary. I mean, I’ll be going home soon and, well, I know you said you didn’t get involved with guests…’
He pulled a face. ‘Yeah?’
Taking a deep breath, she plunged in. ‘Well, I’m… I’m not expecting anything from you. I know it’s just a fling thing.’
