Page 14 of An Enchanted Spring

He waited another heartbeat, then leaned forward. “Ms. Perkins.”

“You want me to tell him what, exactly?” She waved at the binder. “That contract is for me to join you at a social event, presumably to help you navigate the American auction world. While it’s not exactly common practice, it isn’t anything that requires this level of secrecy.” She paused. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

He stroked his chin, silently watching her with keen eyes.

She sat back with awhoosh. “This is all a test, isn’t it? You want to see how far I’ll go to give you what you want before you tell me the real reason why you selected me to be your rep.”

She saw the smile form on his face before he schooled his features. “As you refuse to sign any contract with me, I’m afraid I can’t answer that. You have until the auction, Ms. Perkins. My offer stands until then. But before you join me, you’ll have to sign the papers.”

“I’m sorry this can’t work out.” She placed her napkin on the table.

“I rarely make mistakes, and I know you wouldn’t be a mistake. I suggest you sleep on it. Let’s meet tomorrow at your office in the morning to discuss it further.” He handed her a business card, and she tucked it into her purse. He continued, “For now, let’s enjoy our dinner. I’d love to hear what you think of it. I’ve had Paddy prepare the house special. Have you ever had colcannon?”

She stared at him a moment, unsure if he was serious. After all that discussion, and all he did to get to her, he was willing to let her walk? She frowned. She shouldn’t worry about him; Mr. MacWilliam seemed more than capable. And he mentioned a Plan B. Surely he had things in hand.

Glancing down at the plate in front of her, her inner history geek barked out a laugh. Colcannon was a staple of thelatemedieval Irish diet—boiled potatoes and cabbagemashed together and flavored with shallots and cream or butter.

“Technically, this is not medieval dish,” she replied. “Why would you create a 1400s medieval atmosphere, then name the restaurant after a dish that doesn’t even show up until the late 1600s?”

He laughed. “That knowledge.Thatis why I sought you. Don’t devalue it,” he demanded when she started shaking her head. “It’s why only you will do. I’ll settle for only the best. Very few people in the world would notice a mere two hundred years’ difference, Ms. Perkins.”

She rubbed her temples. She had never met anyone as forthright, yet enigmatic, as Aidan MacWilliam. She could usually read people very well, but the things that came out of his mouth were beyond unpredictable.

“I let Paddy name the restaurant, and he loves that dish,” he explained. “The medieval decor is a nod to my past.”

“You can trace your family to medieval Ireland?” she exclaimed, amazed and slightly jealous all at once.

His expression darkened. “You could say that, aye.”

His voice was so deep, and she couldn’t break eye contact even if she wanted to. She was in way over her head with him, and damn the man if he didn’t know it, too.

Suddenly, his phone rang, and he held it up apologetically. “I have to take this. Excuse me?”

“Of course,” she replied automatically, relieved at the interruption. Whatever was going on, she had to get a grip on herself.

Determination etched on his face,Aidan ignored the call and walked through the kitchen, onto the street behind the restaurant. After a quick sweep of the area, he pulled his phone from his jacket and stared at it, weighing his decision.He hit “call” on the number he’d just missed, and the person on the other end picked up immediately.

“So?”

Aidan barked out a laugh. “You’re a right bastard, you know that?”

He could hear Colin’s smile as he replied, “I do. So is she as perfect for the job as I expected her to be?”

“Even more so. She is properly annoyed at me right now,” Aidan responded. “But she’s brilliant, has strong ethics, and would do the job admirably.”

“What do you have to do to close the deal?” Colin asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” Aidan admitted. “I’m still working that out. By the way, who is the client that referred you to Ms. Perkins? Maybe name-dropping would aid here.”

Colin cleared his throat. “Client?”

Aidan went on alert at Colin’s tone. “Aye, cousin. You told me the lass was referred to you by one of Celtic Connections’ clients.”

“You must have misheard me,” Colin said matter-of-factly.

“And I wonder what you said that I so misheard?” Aidan leaned against the brick wall, giving a nod to a man who blew by him on a bicycle, the scent of Chinese takeout following him.

“I said I found her in the Celtic Connections database.”

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