‘He isn’t. Daniel stumbled across it and wants to persuade him to sell it.’
‘Can’t blame him for wanting to settle here.’ Finula looked at the man at the bar. He didn’t look the swanky city type who just wanted a holiday home somehow. She noticed his easy, relaxed manner and the way he mixed with the locals. Judging by the appreciative looks a few of the women were giving him, Finula guessed he’d blend in perfectly. Christie noticed her looking and waved her over.
‘Finula, meet Daniel. Daniel, this is Dermot’s daughter.’
‘Pleased to meet you.’ Daniel smiled and warmly shook hands with her. Marcus and Dermot followed behind. Turning to them, Finula introduced Marcus.
‘Hello there.’ Marcus gave him a firm handshake.
Daniel asked casually but deliberately in Marcus’ direction, ‘So, all ready for the wedding?’
‘No idea – Finula’s the person to ask,’ he replied dryly, making them all laugh.
‘We’re getting there,’ Finula cut in with a smile, ‘and with the help of Christie, I’m sure it’ll all go to plan.’
‘Don’t worry, it will,’ Christie assured her. ‘Come on, let’s drink to it.’ She reached up for a bottle of champagne.
Dermot smiled to himself – the very bottle he’d had on ice for her first arrival at The Templar. How much brighter things looked for her now. She expertly removed the cork and poured the fizz into flutes. ‘To the wedding!’ she cheered.
‘And to the new Templar,’ added Dermot with a wink.
