car,” he said.
“Trying to get a breakfast invitation?”
He laughed. “Am I so transparent?” he asked, echoing her earlier words. Before she could answer, he said, “If I don’t see you at the town meeting, we’ll hook up at the bonfire afterward, Pansy.”
He closed the door, and as she started the car, she powered down the window. “I could show you the inside of Castle O’Lannaise,” she offered. “It’s not on our tour. It’s got a locked gate, but I can let you in.”
“I’ll need you along,” he said, “to protect me from your ghost. If he sees you with another man, he might get jealous.”
She smiled. “Of course.”
“And Iris’s letters,” he reminded.
“It’s not just a bonfire,” she returned, a barely noticeable hitch in her voice. “There’s a dance on the beach with music. We have one every week. My sisters and I always go. I’ll know more about my schedule then. We’ll arrange a time for you to read the letters.”
He tried to ignore the friendly warmth of her gaze, a warmth that couldn’t begin to answer the hotter, darker things she’d been inspiring since she walked into Casa Eldora. The edgy eroticism, wrought by her unconscious challenge to his masculinity, was the worst. He was definitely a man, and he’d like nothing more than to apprise Pansy Hanley of that fact. As far as he was concerned, she was lucky to get out of here with her clothes on. He said, “I’ll enjoy seeing you again.” What an understatement.
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