Page 27 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

He reached for something, and then he was dabbing her face with a soft towel. “You look beautiful, Sophie. The rain looks good on you.”

There were raindrops on his face, and she took the towel from him and dabbed at the line of his jaw up to the cheekbone, his blue eyes blazing heat now.

“We should go,” he said, touching her face again, this time in a caress.

Her eyes wanted to close. She wanted him to explore her face, but the wind was still howling and rain pelted the car in an attack. Besides, Greta had to be in the window watching. “Yes, let’s. I still can’t believe you guys go out in this weather.”

“If we stayed inside for weather, we’d never leave our cottages,” he said with a laugh as he started the car. “But don’t worry. The place we’re going to will have a fire lit in the hearth. I called to ask for it specifically.”

Even though she was soaked to the bone and growing cold, her heart was warm. By the time they rushed into the restaurantat a historic castle, she was certain she’d never dry out for the evening. The dark brick tavern was near full of people like them, rain-splattered with flattened hair. Sophie had a moment of relief as they walked to the corner table beside the fire-crackling hearth, Jamie waving to several people he seemed to know. The heat was glorious, as was the sweet scent of the wood.

After the server seated them, she leaned forward to whisper, “Most people are eating dessert. When do you normally eat here in Ireland?”

He bit his lip before saying, “This restaurant starts serving at five thirty and closes at eight.”

She checked the time. “But it’s seven thirty!”

“I think they seat the ghosts at eight,” he told her with a smile. “Just kidding. Don’t give it a thought. I called in a favor. My mother taught the owner. I said you were from France and not yet used to our early ways.”

“That’s—” She sat back against her chair. “We eat at eight or nine in Provence.”

“I know. Eoghan and Donal mentioned it to me, saying I’d better have a snack or I wouldn’t make it.” The wide smile he gave her prompted her to study his face. She saw humor in the corners of his mouth, his eyes.

“Wait! Are you kidding me?”

“Yes.” His shoulders were shaking slightly. “About all of it. You seem to bring out a playful side in me. Besides, I like hearing you laugh.”

Goodness, how could she not be delighted by that? “I’m going to have to watch you, aren’t I?”

He gave a devilish wink. “I certainly hope so. Shall we have wine? I’ll let you pick. I’m… I wouldn’t know what to select.”

She looked around. There were some patrons having wine, but beer and whiskey were more abundant on the tables. “Do you want a beer? I can have a glass of wine.”

He frowned then. “Doyoulike wine?”

“I adore wine. It’s truly one of the best reasons to live in France.”

“Then I’m having it too.” He nudged the beverage menu toward her. “I want to try what you like.”

Another shock, and who would have imagined anything would make a bigger impression than the fact that both of them were dripping wet on the restaurant floor. “That might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me on a date.”

His head lifted sharply. “Really?”

Oh, he was nervous. That was so endearing.

“Yeah.” She reached across the table and touched his hand briefly, aware of the eyes watching them. It was a little like being at the zoo, only she and Jamie were the lions and the others were the popcorn-eating public.

She’d learned how to tune rubberneckers out in childhood, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of them. Many of the people here seemed to know him, and she was the new artist in town. They were on a date. Why wouldn’t others gawk? “Now, tell me what you like to eat here.”

He cleared his throat. “I’ve…ah…never been here.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Did you bring me here because you thought I needed something fancy? Jamie, I would have been happy at a pub.”

This time, he reached out and touched the back of her hand. “I chose this place because I wanted to take you to the nicest restaurant we wouldn’t have to drive an hour to get to. You’d want to be close for Greta if she needed you.”

Again, he’d thought of her daughter. “Thank you for bringing me here. Shall we look at the menu and guess what’s best then?”

She edged her chair closer to him, and he smiled and did the same. Suddenly their elbows were touching as she opened the menu and scanned the starters. “How do you feel about smoked eel?”

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