She glared at him. “It was big, and it wasn’t worth the five bucks. I didn’t trust it.”
“Perhaps I can take you for a ride. Show you how trustworthy a true steed can be,” Aidan replied.
His eyes told her he was talking about a lot more than horses. Yes, she had gone to his room with the hopes of seeingwhere her feelings led her. But once she came to her senses, her old fears reared their ugly heads.
Aidan was a wealthy, handsome, powerful man. He was sure to have women fall all over him—even if they didn’t know the contents of his bank account, his looks alone made him a marked man. And she had firsthand knowledge that he looked even better with his clothes off.
She wasn’t immune. Aidan was the most attractive man she’d ever met, and her hormones were all over that like white on rice. But she knew where this kind of thing led. She’d seen it countless times—man and woman meet. Man gets woman into bed. Woman finds out man is married. Someone finds out and threatens to tell, and Emma Perkins is there, ready with the pen, to spin it around.
She’d had enough spinning in both her professional and personal life to last ten lifetimes. She knew, deep in her bones, if she let Aidan in, she’d never be able to let him go.
She wouldn’t be able to handle it when he left, which he certainly would do. Her only relationship was proof enough of her shortcomings. She thought things with Ben were perfect, and though the pictures of him with another woman blindsided her, so had the realization that she was more invested in the relationship than he ever was. How would she know when Aidan would tire of her? He was worldly, from a different class than she. He’d get bored with her plain-Janeness, her desire to stay in and read a book rather than go out on the town. She was a homebody, and he was a jet-setter. He was Adonis, and she did not want to end up like Aphrodite in that sad tale. No, it was better if she admired from afar.
She had the perfect excuse. Her temporary insanity this morning aside, she really did work for Aidan. She was contracted not only by him but now, also by Celtic Connections—of which he was a stakeholder. Therefore, he was totally, completely off-limits to her.
She would not be like Heidi and sleep with her boss.
A voice at the back of her mind whispered that it wasn’t the same, but she crushed it.
“I think I’m safest if I stick with what I know,” she finally said.
“What would that be?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.
She refused to shrink back. “My own two feet.”
“MacWilliam, let’s go. They’re waiting,” Reilly said, popping his head back into the cabin.
Aidan gave Emma a searching look, then apparently let it go. She breathed a silent sigh of relief, and walked out of the jet when he waved her in front of him.
“Thank you for flying with us, Ms. Perkins,” Amanda said.
Aidan kissed the back of Amanda’s hand, although Emma noticed it was much different from the kisses he gave her on her own hand.
She tried not to examine that too closely.
“Amanda, give your husband my regards.”
“Of course,” she replied brightly. “Take care, Mr. MacWilliam.”
They walked down the stairs, two customs officials waiting to greet them and check passports. Emma pinched herself when a tiny shiver of excitement ran through her.
She really was in Ireland. She couldn’t wait to explore.
Chapter 10
Jet lag was going to be the death of her.
Unable to sleep, Emma rolled out of the exceedingly comfortable bed in Reilly’s guest room and padded across the floor, pulling the curtain back. The moon bathed the landscape in a bright blue. She caught her breath at the beauty surrounding the cottage.
Reilly was blessed, indeed. He lived down a private drive, surrounded by trees. The drive opened up to the cottage, like something out of a fairy tale. Inside was just as perfect—the slanted walls, uneven floors, bright paint, and, most of all, the thatched roof.
How she adored thatched-roof cottages.
The back yard (garden, she reminded herself) was marked with a low stone wall that extended from either side of the building and straight back, squaring off to create a neat rectangle of perfectly manicured lawn. Beyond the far wall was green, as far as she could see, sweeping gracefully over hills, up to the tree line in the distance, perhaps half a mile or more away. Directly outside the back door was a neatly tilled vegetable garden; empty pots, tools, and baskets lay on the ground, ready for use.
Aidan, thankfully, backed off her a little. Instead of kissing her senseless in the doorway when he showed her the guest room, he kissed her knuckles and gave a small bow.
She loved and hated how that left her even more breathless than a passionate embrace.