Kate Hoffmann - Her Irish Rogue

“The water could change all that,” Sorcha said.

“There is no Druid spring,” Will countered. “You probably drew this water right from the tap at your flat.” He pulled out the stopper and dumped the water into the sink, then handed her the empty bottle.

She shrugged. “All right. Suit yourself.” Sorcha turned for the door.

“Are you going to remove the spell?” Will called.

She slowly faced him again, a satisfied grin curling her lips. “You do believe, you just can’t admit it. My work here is done. The rest is up to you.”

With that, she spun around, her robes billowing out as she left the room. Will chuckled to himself. So maybe there was something to Sorcha’s spell. He’d give Claire tonight to sleep off her jet lag and the wine they’d drunk. But tomorrow, he’d get down to the bottom of this crazy attraction between them. And then he’d know for sure if Sorcha’s Druid powers had any effect on him at all.

CLAIRE SLOWLY came awake, opening her eyes to the soft sunlight in the room. At first, she wasn’t sure where she was. She closed her eyes again, certain she was dreaming, but then realized she wasn’t asleep. Pushing up on her elbow, she looked around the unfamiliar room. It wasn’t her bedroom—but then, she was in Ireland, wasn’t she? But this wasn’t the room she’d been put in, either. Her luggage wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Slowly, the events of the previous night came back to her.

“Oh, no,” she murmured. Was this his room? Had they spent the night together in his bed? Wincing, she sat up and peeked under the covers. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. She was still dressed, though her blouse wasn’t buttoned right. “I didn’t do anything stupid.” Claire frowned. “Why didn’t I do anything stupid?”

A soft knock sounded on the door and Claire crawled out of bed. She smoothed the wrinkles in her shirt and ran a hand through her hair before she opened the door. Will stood on the other side with a tray. “I made you some coffee,” he said. “I thought you might need it.”

Claire rubbed her temple, suddenly aware of the ache there. “What time is it?”

“Noon,” he said. “Which is about six a.m. Chicago time. I can bring the coffee back later, if you like. Your bags are out here in the hall.”

Claire stepped away from the door and motioned him inside. She sat down on the edge of the bed and he placed the tray on a small table and set it in front of her. Then he poured her a mug of coffee. “There’s milk and sugar,” he said, pointing to the tray.

“Black is fine.” She took a sip, watching him over the rim of the mug. “What happened last night?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Parts of it are a little hazy. I didn’t have that much to drink. Just a few glasses of wine.”

He walked out the door and returned with her luggage, setting the bags at the foot of the bed. “I think you were more tired than drunk,” Will said. “You got sleepy and I brought you up here and—”

“And?”

“And put you to bed.”

“That’s all?” Claire asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Well, not entirely. We did mess around a bit before you fell asleep.”

“Define messing around,” Claire said. “I don’t want to mistranslate here.”

Will reached out and took her hand, toying with her fingers as he spoke. “We kissed and touched and that was about the end of it. And you invited me to spend the night, but I didn’t want to take advantage.”

“That was noble of you,” she said.

“Not that noble. Believe me, I considered taking you up on your offer. I spent most of last night kicking my own arse because I hadn’t. I live on a damned island. Beautiful women don’t come along every day.”

“I’m sorry,” Claire said.

“For what?”

“Leading you on. I—I really didn’t come here for—Well, even though I find you very—” Claire quickly took another sip of her coffee. Why was she having such a difficult time telling him she didn’t want him? Claire groaned inwardly. Maybe because she wanted Will Donovan more than she’d ever wanted a man before?

“You came here for a vacation,” Will said. He slowly stood. “If you’d like, I’ll take you out today and show you some of the sights.”

“Thank you. But I thought I’d walk into town and do a little shopping.”

“Well, be sure to put on something warm. There’s a chill in the air.”

Claire watched as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. She let out a tightly held breath, then flopped back on the bed. In truth, she would have been perfectly happy to spend the entire day with Will, curled up in front of a blazing fire, sipping wine, getting to know each other…more intimately. But she’d come to Trall specifically to find the Druid spring. And if she hoped to accomplish her goal, then she’d have to do some investigative work. And the first person she’d go to see was that Druid priestess that Captain Billy mentioned. If anyone knew about the Druid spring, she would.

When she’d finished her coffee, Claire unpacked. She followed Will’s advice and picked out a warm wool sweater and a pair of corduroy pants. Then she brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her hair, deciding to forgo makeup. There was no use attracting unwarranted attention from the innkeeper.

She found Will sitting at the dining room table, a pile of papers spread out in front of him. She watched him, unseen, from the doorway, admiring the handsome features of his face, the strong set of his jaw and the sensuous mouth.

His hair was thick, an indistinct color somewhere between brown and black, and long enough to brush against his collar. Her fingers twitched as she recalled the feel of it. His profile was almost aristocratic, a perfectly straight nose, a high forehead, a strong chin. She’d always thought Eric the most handsome man she’d ever met, but he seemed rather ordinary compared to Will.

So how had a man like Will remained unattached? Surely, one of Ireland’s most eligible bachelors had had his choice of available females. He had a charming personality; he was good-looking, polite, with just a hint of bad boy thrown in. And he’d managed to nearly seduce her, a complete stranger, without even trying. Surely there was one attractive, single woman in all of Ireland who’d wanted him for her own.

Claire cleared her throat as she walked into the room and Will glanced up. He slowly stood, his gaze fixed on her. “Hi,” he said.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Claire said. “I hoped that you might give me some information.”

“About?”

“The captain of the mail boat was telling me about a Druid princess—no, priestess—who lives on the island. I’d like to meet her.”

Will was silent for a long moment. “You want to meet Sorcha? Why?”

“I don’t know. She sounds…interesting. Does she have a shop in town?”

Will nodded. “It’s called The Dragon’s Heart. She makes jewelry and little Druid trinkets. But, she’s really a bit—” He paused. “Eccentric. She sometimes has a tendency to promise more than she can deliver. If you’d like to see her, I could take you.”

“No, I’m just curious. What else would you suggest? I thought I might make a list to be sure I saw everything before I left.”

Will chuckled. “You don’t need a list. There’s not that much to see. There’s the church. There are some beautiful relics inside and some interesting Celtic crosses in the graveyard. There’s a small museum about the island just back of the post office. And there are some lovely shops along Parsons Street, antiques and such. There’s a tour of the island that leaves at noon from the market square in a horse-drawn carriage. Most of the tourists enjoy that.”