Page 5

They trudged to the house and Reilly opened the unlocked door.

He figured if anyone tried to break in, they’d have a hell of a time figuring out what to steal.

He didn’t own electronics, he made his own rustic furniture, and the only thing of value (he claimed) was the thatch on his roof.

And stealing that, he always pointed out, didn’t require anyone to open his front door.

He also wanted to ensure that anyone who wandered out from his forest had a safe place to lay their heads before he helped them with their journeys.

And those people, as Colin knew from experience, needed to be eased into modern-day life.

As a Protector, it was Reilly’s—and Colin’s—duty to aid those who found themselves out of their time.

“It’s been months since we traveled anywhere,” Colin reminded him. “You know it’s only a matter of time.”

“With me, everything’s a matter of time,” Reilly grumbled. “Go unpack, then we’ll head to the pub for some dinner. I’m starved—that ridiculous tea shop Emma insisted on provided no real sustenance.”

Colin rubbed his belly. “No joke. Why do we humor her?”

“Because she’s a sweetheart and we adore her.”

“True.” Colin hefted his suitcase and climbed the stairs. “I’ll meet you there in a while; I need one of their burgers. But I have some work I have to do, to prep for my meeting tomorrow.”

Reilly didn’t answer; the only response Colin received was the sound of tires crunching gravel as Reilly headed to the pub.

An hour later, Colin shut down his laptop and wedged it under the mattress. He didn’t care what Ry thought about thieves—he didn’t want to take any chances.

He stretched his arms over his head and rolled the kinks out of his neck, then grabbed his wallet and slid it into his back pocket. He leaned over the small desk to turn off the lamp when a movement in the back garden caught his eye.

It was a woman, mid- to late-twenties, with long, slightly wavy, dark hair. She wore a long skirt and a sweater. No purse, no cell phone, no panicked look or confusion.

Seeing as she was modern, and not of, say, medieval vintage, Colin figured it best to steer her away from the forest. Folks were known to disappear through there, and he had absolutely no interest in chasing down an unknown person through time. He wanted a burger.

“Hello!” he called out, opening the kitchen door that led into the back garden. “Are you lost, or just out for a stroll?”

The woman looked up, surprised, and stumbled. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry. I was just out for a walk.”

Colin smiled. She sounded British—he loved their accents, and found that they loved his. “All right then. Stay away from the woods, though—people get lost in there all the time.”

She glanced back nervously. “Oh. Thank you. I’m sorry I trespassed.”

He stepped out, leaving the door open. “You’re not trespassing at all. Everyone’s welcome here. I’m—”

She gave a quick smile. “Nice to meet you, but forgive me, I’m actually headed somewhere, so, um…it was nice meeting you.”

“You said that already,” he remarked.

“Yes. So I did.” She laughed awkwardly, then stepped backwards. “I should get back—oh!” She landed hard on her bottom, grimacing in pain.

Colin was at her side instantly. “Are you okay? You must’ve found a tree root.”

She shook her head, resigned, and a blush crept over her face. But soon she straightened her spine and offered him a smile. “No, I’m afraid not. I’m very clumsy around other people.”

The smile whacked him squarely in the chest, and he felt a bit winded. “Well, at least you’re graceful when you’re by yourself. That’s important, you know, as you spend the most time with you.” Colin flashed her a smile and glanced down at her booted feet. “Is your ankle in pain?”

“Just my pride, unfortunately,” she replied with a self- deprecating laugh. She struggled to stand up, and Colin offered her his hand. She took it.

He froze, surprised at the intensity of her touch. She was looking at him, uncertainty lining her classically beautiful features. Her honey-colored eyes locked on his darker brown ones, and they remained motionless, suspended in a moment, until Colin’s phone began to buzz in his pocket.

“Oh, sorry. Sorry. Here, let me…there you go,” he said quickly, righting her. He let go of her hand and answered.

“Hey Ry.”

“You coming, or am I going to eat your burger, too?”

Colin slid a glance at the woman, who was brushing herself off and testing her weight on her ankle. “Go ahead and eat it. Feel free to stay out a bit later, too.”

“Why?” Reilly’s voice was suspicious. “You’ve got a hot date?”

“I think so,” Colin replied slowly. The woman was taking small, measured steps away from him.

“By the saints, did someone come through the forest?”

“Yes.”

“A woman?” Reilly questioned.

“Right again.”

“A medieval woman?” he asked in disbelief.

“No, perfectly modern.”

Reilly’s sigh was impressive. “Why is it that the modern ones always show up when I’m not there?”

“No idea. Perhaps you could wait there for a while. You never know; maybe one will turn up.”

Reilly barked out a short laugh. “Aye, and the leprechauns all come out at midnight. You owe me.”

Colin smiled and hung up. Feeling a bit more balanced, he extended his hand once more to the woman, who was now looking at him with outright curiosity.

He didn’t know why, but he had to touch her again .

“I didn’t catch your name,” he said, waiting for her to shake his hand.

She pressed her lips together in a line, trying unsuccessfully to hide her smile. “That’s because I didn’t give it.” She took his outstretched hand, and before she could shake it, he flipped her wrist and kissed her knuckles.

“I’m Colin,” he said softly.

Her breath caught. “I’m…Rose.”

He smiled against her hand, then slowly released it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rose. Whoever named you clearly saw your beauty from the moment you were born.”

“Smooth,” she chuckled.

He grinned. “Care to sit with me in the garden for a bit and let that ankle rest up?”

She looked at her watch, then seemed to have some sort of internal battle. He watched in fascination as her lips moved slightly, as if she was talking it out with herself.

She met his eyes. “In the garden?”

He shrugged. “I thought you’d feel more comfortable out here.”

She chewed her lip for a moment more, then answered, “Yes. All right.”

“I’ll grab something from the kitchen. Have a seat,” he offered, dragging a chair towards Reilly’s small fire pit.

He hurried into the house, nervous that she’d leave, and quickly rummaged around in the fridge, where he found some orange juice with a dubious smell, bottled water, and two cans of Guinness.

He looked at the cans for a moment, then shrugged and grabbed them, two pint glasses, and a bottle of water. Reilly would forgive him if he drank the last of his beer with a lady.

Maybe.

“I’ve got water or Guinness.” He shrugged apologetically, rejoining her. “It’s my cousin’s house, and he’s a bachelor. There’s really not much on offer. ”

“Is he the only bachelor in residence?” she asked innocently.

Colin grinned at her. “I’m American, Rose. I don’t play word games. Yes, I’m single.”

She blushed. “I wasn’t asking that!” After a pause, she conceded, “Oh, fine. I was. But it’s not exactly a question I’m supposed to ask someone I just met. My aunt would be so ashamed.”

“Glad she’s not here, then,” Colin said. He held out the water and a Guinness.

Rose smiled. “Guinness, please. As she’s not here, I don’t have to worry about drinking a beer. My aunt believes a proper lady should never drink beer. Wine or spirits only.”

“She sounds, um…” Colin struggled to find the right word as he tossed some wood into the fire pit.

Rose smiled. “She’s wonderful, actually. The best of women. She is just very particular.”

“Are you visiting Drogheda?” he asked, popping the cap off the bottle. He poured it into one of the glasses and waited for it to settle before topping it off.

“I must say that’s an excellent pour,” she said appreciatively, taking the glass from him. “I am visiting, yes. My aunt owns a home on the sea here, and I found I needed to get away from London for a while.”

Colin nodded in understanding, then set to work starting the fire. “Ireland relaxes me in a way no other place can, so I understand it. Are you having a nice holiday?”

She sipped the Guinness thoughtfully. “I’m only here a couple of days. I have to return tomorrow for a family obligation.”

He blew on the small flame before replying, “To London? I’m headed there as well. Part of my UK tour.”

“You know Ireland isn’t part of the UK, right?” she whispered, looking around in mock fear.

He laughed, then brushed his hands on his jeans as the flame took shape.

Pulling up an identical chair to hers, he replied, “I’m well aware of that fact.

Every time my cousin—the one who owns this house—comes to the States, my father loves to tease him about how it’s only a matter of time before the Irish succumb to the lure of the English. ”

“If your cousin is a true Irishman, he must rise to the bait every time.”

“Of course. It’s what makes it so amusing for my father. Do your parents live nearby?”

“No.”

He didn’t press her. “So what do you do in London, Rose?”

She toyed with her necklace before answering. “I work at a library.”

Colin sat forward. “Rose, the point of conversation is to answer with at least some detail. Otherwise, it’s hard to get to know you…and I admit to wanting to get to know you a little.”

“A library in a university,” she hurried to add.

He raised an eyebrow, and she laughed.

“You make me nervous,” she blurted out. “Oh, damn. Sorry. Let’s pretend I didn’t say that. I can never keep my mouth shut when it matters.”

It was his turn to laugh. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about here. Like I said—American, remember? Be forthright. Let down that English guard of yours and be yourself. I’ve already judged you.”

“You have?” she asked, affronted.