Youre the host here. Im the guest.
And you invited yourself to supper, Will reminded her.
Please, fetch me a whiskey, Sorcha whined. Or Ill put a feckin curse on you, Will Donovan.
Will crossed the room and grabbed her glass, then strolled over to the small table that held the decanter. He poured a small measure into the tumbler and returned to the sofa. But when Sorcha held out her hand, he pulled the whiskey back. Ill give you this drink if you do me a small kindness in return.
Sorcha sat up on her heels, brushing her hair out of her pale eyes. This sounds interesting. Whats wrong? Has it been a while since youve had some?
He wagged his finger at her. Were not going to go there, Sorcha, he muttered. Weve been there before and it didnt work.
I know. But this time we can just have a shag. We wont bother with the relationship.
Lets be honest. You devour men. You require that they worship you and wait on you and satisfy you until theyre nothing but blithering fools. And then you toss them aside for someone new.
Sorchas lips pressed into a pout. How can you say that? I love men.
Maybe a little too much, Will said.
If youre going to insult me, then give me my whiskey. I feel like getting pissed.
Not until you do something for me.
What do you want? Obviously not my body. I should be humiliated, but Im not. Ive come to think of you as adare I say it? A brother? She giggled. A very hot brother. Oh, hell, Id probably be riddled with guilt if we slept together again. I do have some standards to maintain.
I want you to lift the curse you put on me, he said.
A satisfied grin curled her lips. I didnt think you believed in my powers.
I dont.
Which curse? she asked.
Will groaned. How many are there?
There was a long moment before Sorcha answered. Two. No, three. She paused. No, wait, I lifted that one after you helped me fix my car. Two, she said.
And what were they?
Wellone was so youd never meet another woman as beautiful and sexy as I am. And the other had to do with yourperformance in the bedroom. She slowly raised her index finger, then let it curl up again. A willy-wilting curse for Will.
He frowned. Since theyd ended their relationship, his luck with women hadnt been great, but hed still been able to perform when called upon. Hed had three serious relationships in the past two years and all had ended after only a few months. In between, hed indulged in an occasional one- or two-night stand with old girlfriends in London or Dublin. Living on an island offered few possibilities for regular or casual sex. That could only be found on the mainland.
In the spirit of our newfound friendship, Will said, I want you to reverse both curses. Right now. In front of me.
Sorcha sighed and grabbed the whiskey from his hand. All right. She swallowed her drink in one gulp, then sat up straight and closed her eyes, tipping forward until her red hair fell like a curtain around her face. Slowly, she began to rock back and forth, mumbling a string of words that Will recognized as Gaelic. Though he knew a fair bit of the language, he didnt understand what she was saying. Suddenly, she opened her eyes. Im starved, she said. I need taytos. I have to have nourishment for this to work. Then she closed her eyes and began to mutter again.
Will wandered back to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of potato crisps. When he returned to the parlor, Sorcha was lying down on the sofa. He handed her the bag of crisps and she tore it open, then popped one into her mouth. God, Im hungry, she muttered. Do you have any chocolate?
Were going to eat in an hour. Are you done?
She stuffed two more crisps into her mouth, then nodded. Yes. You are now completely curse-free. She paused. Well, not entirely. I did a wee counterspell, just something between two good friends.
Sorcha, you promised.
This is a good spell. The next woman you meet will madly desire you and youll have a wildly passionate sexual encounter within twenty-four hours. She will stop at nothing to get into your trousers and have a go.
A frantic knocking sounded through the quiet of the parlor and Sorcha giggled. Ah! The spell has worked. Its herself! I wonder who it could be? The single women on this island are a sad lot, except, of course, for me. I suppose Eveleen Dooly wouldnt be so bad in bed. And then theres Mary Carlisle. Shes old but shes sprightly.
At least Eveleen wouldnt curse me, Will muttered. While I answer the door, you remove the spell. Am I clear?
Quite, Sorcha said. Just walk slowly. Itll take some time. It was a very complex spell.
Will strolled out to the front hall, then waited a bit before he opened the front door. Standing on the steps was a woman, drenched by the rain, her shoes covered in mud.
Its about time, she muttered, pale hair plastered to her face. Im soaked to the skin. And I couldnt find the key. Its supposed to be under the flowerpot.
Im sorry, Will said, reaching out to grab her bags. Sorcha must have usedwell, never mind. Come in, please. Welcome to the Ivybrook Inn.
She walked inside, tracking mud across the parquet floor of the hall. Glancing back, she noticed what shed done, then cursed softly, struggling out of her ruined shoes. I couldnt find the taxi. He was supposed to be at the pub and he wasnt. Some farmer offered to give me a ride on his horse. Good thing, because an Irish mile seems to be a lot longer than an American mile. It took me forever to get here. She picked up her shoes, her wet clothes making a puddle around her. I need a room.
Will studied her as he stepped behind the front desk. It was hard to tell what she looked like. Shed tied a scarf around her head to ward off the rain and her hair hung in a stringy mess over her eyes. One cheek was muddy and the other was stained with mascara.
Her jacket and jeans were so baggy and waterlogged that her shape was indistinct beneath them. She did have very pretty feet, Will mused, and her toenails were painted a bright pink. And she looked young, probably not much older than twenty-five or twenty-six. Will watched as she rummaged through her purse.
Youre American? he asked.
She shoved her hair back and met his gaze for the first time. Tiny droplets clung to her lashes and she blinked several times, sending rivulets down rosy cheeks. IIm sorry, what did you ask?
American? Will repeated softly, his gaze falling to her lips.
Yes. Is that a problem?
When he looked up, he found himself staring into sparkling turquoise eyes. She held out a credit card. No, not at all, he said, taking the card. I was just curious. You soundedAmerican.
A tiny smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. Thats probably because I am. A shudder ran through her and she rubbed her arms. So, may I have a room? Id really like to get out of these clothes and
Yes, of course, Will said. And Id like to get you out of thoseI mean, Im sure youd be more comfortable if you took your clothes offand put others back on. He grabbed the key for the nicest room on the second floor. Room seven, he said. Will reached out and grabbed her hand, then put the key in her palm. Her skin was damp and cool to the touch and he let his fingers linger, his thumb slowly caressing the inside of her wrist. Top of the stairs and to your left. Its at the end of the hall. All our rooms are en suite.
Yes, of course, Will said. And Id like to get you out of thoseI mean, Im sure youd be more comfortable if you took your clothes offand put others back on. He grabbed the key for the nicest room on the second floor. Room seven, he said. Will reached out and grabbed her hand, then put the key in her palm. Her skin was damp and cool to the touch and he let his fingers linger, his thumb slowly caressing the inside of her wrist. Top of the stairs and to your left. Its at the end of the hall. All our rooms are en suite.
What does that mean? she muttered, staring down at the key.
He grabbed her shoes from her hand. They all have their own bathrooms. Seven has a very large tub with a shower. Why dont you go on up and Ill bring your luggage and shoes after Ive had a chance to dry them off.
All right, she said. She gently pulled her hand from his grip, then started toward the stairs.
What is your name? Will called.
She spun around. What?
Your name. For the register.
Its on the card, she replied. OConnor. Claire OConnor from Chicago. Illinois.
Welcome to the Ivybrook Inn, Miss OConnor, he said, glancing down at the credit card. Im Will Donovan.
She nodded, then trudged up the stairs, her clothes dripping as she climbed. When he turned to tend to her bags, he found Sorcha leaning up against the doorjamb to the front parlor, clutching the bag of crisps to her chest and munching thoughtfully. An American. Pretty thing, that, she murmured, nodding toward the stairs. I hear American girls are positively wild in the sack.
I dont seduce the guests, he said. Dont you have some potions to brew? Go home, Sorcha.
Too bad about the curse, she murmured. Im afraid you were a bit too fast answering the door. I didnt have a chance to remove the spell. She grinned as she popped another crisp into her mouth. Shes definitely worth a shag or two, Will. I think Ill just be going now. She walked over to Will, straightened his collar and smoothed his hair. Just remember to be nice and to use a Johnny. Good sex is safe sex.
Get out, Will muttered.
She grabbed her mackintosh from the coat tree in the hall and slipped into it. Have fun, Wills. You can thank me later, she said.
Will walked back to the kitchen to fetch some rags, then cleaned up the mess Claire OConnor had made in the entry hall. Her shoes were ruined, but he dried off her suitcases and carried them upstairs.
Her door was slightly ajar and he knocked softly. Miss OConnor?
There was no answer. Will peeked inside and found the room empty. He placed the suitcases next to the bed, and turned back to the door. As he did, he glanced into the bathroom and his breath caught in his throat. The door was open just far enough for him to see her lying in the tub.
He froze, unwilling to invade her privacy. But then Will realized she was sound asleep, her arms draped over the sides, her head resting on the edge of the old clawfoot tub as water still poured out of the faucet.
Her pale hair was brushed away from her face and he found himself transfixed by the simple beauty of her profile, her upturned nose, her lush lips. He noticed a tiny sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks. His gaze drifted down, to the soft flesh of her breasts, rosy from the rising water in the tub.
Desire warmed his blood and he fought the impulse to step closer. Innkeepers had certain standards they kept to and spying on a female guest while she was in her bath went way beyond acceptable behavior. But then, what if Sorcha was right? What if this woman was meant to be his anyway?
She stirred slightly, then sighed, her lips parting as she sank a bit deeper into the bath. Will backed up and grabbed the suitcases, setting them closer to the door. When he reached the hallway, he drew a deep breath and leaned back against the wall. If the tub overflowed, hed have a reason to return, but for now, hed keep to the hall.
The image of her naked body whirled in his head and he felt himself growing hard at the thought of touching her. Will groaned in frustration. Sure, it had been a while. And there had been the occasional fantasy about a sexy female guest, a beautiful woman with no inhibitions intent on seducing him, the inn quiet and empty, as it was now. But he had never once considered making the fantasy real.
Perhaps shed only stay for one night. Or perhaps her boyfriend or fiancé or husband would be joining her tomorrow. Besides, he didnt believe Sorcha Mulroony had even an ounce of mystical power. Hed be polite and accommodating and hospitable to Claire OConnor. Nothing more.
THE BATH WAS LUKEWARM by the time Claire crawled out. She wrapped herself in a thick cotton towel, then walked into the bedroom. Her suitcases had been placed next to the door, and for a moment, she wondered how the innkeeper had slipped into her room without her noticing.
An image of the man flashed in her mind and Claire recalled her reaction when she first looked into his eyes. There were obviously handsome men scattered all over the world, but somehow, the fates had blessed the Isle of Trall with a truly beautiful specimen. But why was one of Irelands most eligible bachelors living here?
She smiled as she sat down on the edge of the bed, wrapping the towel more tightly around her. Back at her job, shed stared at thousands of imagesmale models, everyday guys, celebritiestrying to figure out what it was that made one man merely attractive and another devastatingly sexy.
Will Donovan belonged in the latter category. He possessed features that were in perfect balance. He wasnt pretty, he was gorgeous. And it wasnt the straight nose or the expressive mouth or the eyes that were an odd mix of green and gold. It was the way he wore his looks, so casually, as if he werent aware of the effect they had on women.
He hadnt shaved in two or three days and it looked as if he preferred his fingers to a comb when it came to fixing his hair. Everything about him was comfortably rumpled, as if hed just rolled out of bed, even the lazy way he looked at her with half-hooded eyes.
Claire retrieved a bottle of scented lotion from her suitcase and rested her foot on the edge of the bed as she rubbed some of the product over her legs. With any other man, she might not have given him a second thought. After all, it had been just one day since her relationship with Eric had ended. And shed come to Ireland to save that relationship.
She was in a foreign country, so of course shed find a guy like Will Donovaninteresting. Maybe even a bit exotic. That accent, the sound of her name on his lips, the way his gaze drifted between her mouth and her eyes. Lusting after another man now would be a waste of precious time. As long as she was here in Ireland, shed do what she came to dosave her relationship with Eric. After all, she and Eric were meant for each other.
Claire had known from the moment shed met him. All her life, she had waited for the perfect man. Shed even made a list of all the attributes she sought in a husband and Eric had fulfilled every last one of them.
Careful planning and detailed lists had been Claires specialty since she was a young girl. A shrink would probably tell her that it was simply a way of coping with a chaotic childhood. Shed grown up in a tiny three-bedroom house, with five older brothers, and parents who did little to control the boys. It was noisy and messy and she was almost always ignored when competing against their boisterous antics.