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“ I have a headache.”

Colin grit his teeth as Gwen steered Ellie towards the car. “No you don’t.”

“I do,” Ellie insisted. “I don’t want to insult the man by appearing uninterested. We should reschedule.”

Gwen dragged her friend into the vehicle. “This man did not just fly thousands of miles for you to get cold feet. It’s time to put on your big girl panties, Eleanor.”

Gwen, who was flat-sitting for Ellie while she was in the States, arrived in Ireland yesterday for moral support.

After the morning he had listening to Ellie come up with every possible excuse as to why she should back out of her and Reginald’s date (which Reg had flown into Dublin for), Colin was grateful for Gwen’s backup. She must’ve known Ellie would balk.

“I forget what he does for a living,” Ellie said, her voice panicky as the driver pulled out from in front of Reilly’s cottage. “He even told me, and I can’t remember. He’s going to wish he never met me.”

“If you read the damn dossier, you would know these things,” Colin replied evenly, though his patience was close to snapping. “He’s in software development.”

“Is he good looking?” Gwen asked, intrigued.

“Does it matter?” Ellie groused, sandwiched between Gwen and Colin. She looked grumpily out the front window and crossed her arms.

Gwen patted her on the shoulder. “Of course it does. Colin, do you have a picture? El, surely you remember that spark of excitement you get when you’re attracted to someone.”

Colin avoided looking at Ellie, instead busying himself with his phone, then handed it over to Gwen when Reg’s picture appeared. “Here.”

Gwen peered at the photo. “Oh. Wow, okay. Wow. He looks like—”

“Superman,” Ellie muttered.

“What?” Colin choked out. “I can assure you, he’s no Superman.”

“No, but he looks like the guy who played him in the remake,” Gwen said, her voice fluttery.

“Henry Cavill?” Colin squinted at the picture. The resemblance was definitely there.

Unfortunately.

Gwen snapped her fingers. “Yes, that’s it. I wonder if they’re related?”

Ellie sighed. “That’s what one of the women at the mixer asked.”

Colin hurriedly tucked his phone into his pocket, annoyance flashing across his features. “Let’s go over what the ground rules are.”

“We’ve already done that twice,” Ellie said.

“Well, we’re going to do it again!” he barked, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

He’d matched many people over the years.

He could tell when people were going to hit it off, when the date was destined for disaster, and when two people were so perfectly matched for one another that he wouldn’t be able to hold them to the rules even if he hog-tied them both and locked them in separate buildings.

And, after the mixer and multiple phone calls, Colin had a distinct, terrible, horrible feeling that the new-and-improved Reginald and Ellie were suited in more ways than he cared to admit. The number of boxes that each person checked off for the other was mind blowing.

And heart wrenching.

“No more than two drinks in the course of the date,” he intoned. “No discussing money, religion, politics, or exes. Focus on getting to know each other’s likes and dislikes—”

Ellie groaned loudly. “Colin. I get it. Your rules are emblazoned on my brain.”

He swallowed hard. “Good.”

“I wonder what he has planned,” Gwen wondered, her voice excited. “You have to admit this is a little fun, Eleanor! The mystery of it all…it’s so romantic. He took a private plane all the way from…where was he?”

“After the mixer he had business in Italy,” Colin muttered. Because of course the man couldn’t have come from somewhere just a little less romantic. “He flew in from Rome.”

“Rome to Dublin! It’s all so exciting!” Gwen bubbled.

Ellie, for her part, didn’t say a word. She seemed to be focusing on her breathing.

“You’re going to have a good time.” He nudged Ellie with his knee. “You two will discuss something nerdy, like green lights and existentialism, and the time will fly by. Rainbows will sprout wherever you walk, and unicorns will prance under them in joy.”

Ellie shot a death glare at him. “I hate dating.”

He forced a chuckle. “I know. But you did agree to try it, so here we are.”

When the car pulled up to a curb off Grafton Street in downtown Dublin, Colin immediately saw Reginald standing in front of a tiny pub, looking nervous.

That was a first. Normally the man exuded annoyance more than anything else.

“Oh, my,” Gwen murmured, fanning herself a little. “He. Is. Beautiful. Remember to text me if you need a save…” She trailed off, sliding another look at the handsome man, then bussed Ellie’s cheek with her own. “Or to let me know that you won’t be coming home.”

A sick feeling settled in the pit of Colin’s stomach. Every fiber of his being was fighting him as he said, “Come on, I’ll do the reintroductions.”

As Ellie exited the car, he took in her outfit. The wrap dress perfectly outlined her figure. Ankle boots, some bohemian jewelry, and long, loose waves in her hair completed the eclectic, yet perfectly Ellie, look.

Gwen winked at him, and he knew it was all her doing.

Colin swallowed past the unwelcome tide of jealousy and took her elbow. “This way.” Take her back to the car, Colin.

He could feel her trembling, and when he caught sight of Reginald’s appreciative look, he resisted the overwhelming urge to plant his fist in his face.

Take her home.

Let her go .

Don’t be an ass.

Don’t be selfish.

And, though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done, he put on a smile and led her over to her date.

Ellie strolled alongside Reginald, impressed and a little awed by the man. Their private walking tour of Dublin’s literary sights finished that evening by seven, and they ate a delicious dinner before taking a walk along the River Liffey .

Ellie liked him. He was kind and considerate, though she could tell his manners were a bit practiced. But she took that as a compliment, that he thought she was worthy of putting his best foot forward.

“I have a confession,” she said, stopping to admire the view from the middle of the pedestrian bridge.

It was strange how unintimidated she was by him, even though he was clearly from old money.

And old money in Britain was not always, but quite often, a sign of titles and estates and aristocracy.

When she offered to split the dinner bill, he looked at her in surprise, as though such a thing were foreign to him (and which he politely declined).

His clothing was understated but expensive; his taste in everything from books to music, refined.

He was classically trained in piano, a graduate of Eton, Harvard, and ultimately Cambridge, and he had spent years traveling the globe.

Her fears and nerves were unfounded, because even as she anticipated the swell of panic such a man of power normally evoked, Ellie felt at ease with him.

He told her of his family, his work, and his short-term plans.

She told him what it was like to run a London bookshop and about her aunt.

They hadn’t stopped talking since Colin reluctantly returned to the car and left them alone.

“A confession? I’m all ears.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I have never been able to finish Ulysses .”

Reg burst out laughing. “Well, that is surprising, coming from a bookshop owner!”

She giggled. “I know. It’s just that I can’t seem to get past the first fifty pages. It bores me to tears.”

He turned fully to her. “Who do you like, then? Other than, of course, Fitzgerald.”

She stared out over the river, the twinkling lights on the water reminding her of Boston, though they looked completely different.

Focus on Reginald, not Colin . She slid a glance to her date, noting how his eyes never strayed from her face.

He’d been a gentleman all night, and his interest in her was unmistakable.

“Jonathan Swift, Bram Stoker, Oscar Wilde…”

“Those are some of the Irish greats, absolutely. What Englishmen do you enjoy?”

“Charles Dickens, Jane Austen, oh! And Chaucer, of course.”

“Any others?”

She noticed he stepped closer, and though she didn’t tense, she didn’t not tense, either.

“Shakespeare, definitely. I’m sure there are others.”

He stepped closer to her. “Any other Brits that you might fancy?” He leaned closer, his cologne drifting over her senses, and Ellie knew he was going to kiss her.

And she was going to let him.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and his lips gently settled over hers. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, and she embraced him, but something was off.

She tilted her head, hoping to change the angle, and he responded. She opened her lips, and his tongue found hers, and there was…nothing.

Not even a hint of desire.

She carefully extricated herself from his arms and searched his face. He looked amazed, blown away, thrilled—and she wondered if maybe she missed something.

She studied him for a moment, confused by herself. She should be swooning with delight; he was everything she’d always dreamed about as a girl, before Andrew smashed her teenage dreams straight on through to reality. Reg was damn near perfect. But there was one thing he was not.

And that one thing was standing between her and a happily ever after.

Move on, Eleanor. You can’t change Colin’s mind. Happiness is a choice .

She glanced into Reginald’s deep blue eyes, then wrapped her arms around one of his and started to stroll. “Yes, Reginald. I definitely fancy another Brit.”

Gwen eyed Ellie speculatively. “So the date was awesome?”

“It was.”

“Did he kiss you?”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Yes, he kissed me.”

Gwen squealed, then paused. “Wait a second. I know that look.”

“You know nothing. I like Reginald. He was very nice. He’s a good kisser.”

Gwen stared at her, perplexed, then her face melted into one of compassion. “Oh, boy. You’re going to walk away.”

Ellie drew back. “What? No. I said I liked him.”

“Not Reginald. Colin.”

Ellie laughed uneasily. “Colin isn’t even one of my matches!”