The Mighty Quinns: Riley. Kate Hoffmann

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over Ireland, but his image had been finely honed early in life, by old episodes of Baywatch—long blond hair, tight bodies and tanned skin. And breasts that seemed a lot larger than those provided by nature.

      Nan was fresh and feisty, with a very simple, straightforward beauty. Her short-cropped black hair curled softly around her face and long, dark lashes ringed vivid green eyes. She was stubborn and opinionated, the kind of woman who would make charming her a tough go, even for the most experienced Casanova. But then, Riley enjoyed a challenge.

      Though he had been anxious to get back to the pub, now that they were on their way, Riley decided to get off the expressway and enjoy the rest of the trip. The local roads back to Ballykirk provided a picturesque drive and he found himself wanting to spend a bit more time with Nan before delivering her to the cottage.

      “So, you mentioned that your family had a pub. Do you serve lunches there? I’m starving. The food on the plane was awful.”

      “Best lunch in all of Ballykirk,” he said.

      “Are you the cook?”

      “No. I tend to the bar every now and then.”

      “You’re a bartender.”

      “No. Actually, I make my living as a musician. I write songs and sing. At the Hound and at other pubs around Ireland.”

      “You sing,” she said, as if surprised by the news. “Really? Are—are you famous?”

      “Depends on what you consider famous. I’m no Elvis. But people know who I am. They come to see me. They buy my CDs. But I’m not planning a stadium tour anytime soon.”

      “Maybe I can come and hear you sing,” she said.

      “Maybe you can,” Riley replied.

      She sent him a smile that was so sweet, he wanted to reach out and touch her again. He clutched the wheel until his knuckles turned white, wondering why he found himself so attracted to the American. It wasn’t just the fact that she was pretty in an unconventional way. There was a wide-eyed innocence about her that he found intriguing. Women her age were usually quite jaded, but not Nan. There wasn’t a cynical bone in her body.

      As they continued on to Ballykirk, Nan seemed fascinated by each new sight that passed by her window—the churches, the graveyards, the stone walls. When they rounded a curve in the road, Nan threw her arm out and grabbed his shoulder. “Stop!”

      “What?” Riley slammed on the brakes and the car skidded. “Jaysus, did I hit something? What was it?”

      “That,” she said, pointing over him to a crumbling round tower. “It’s a round tower. I saw these in my guidebooks. They’re called … cloy—cloh—”

      “They’re called cloictheach.

      “I didn’t think they’d just be sitting out in the middle of a field. Do you think they give tours?”

      “Nah. That one’s just a ruin.”

      “Let’s go,” she said. “I want to see it up close.”

      He considered her request for a long moment. They were expecting him back at the pub, but his cousin Martin was behind the bar. He could do the job if Riley was late. “All right. I guess we could stop for a bit.”

      “I have to get my camera,” she said, searching for the door handle. “It’s in my bag.”

      He leaned over her seat and opened the door for her. She jumped out of the car and opened the rear door, then grabbed her carry-on and rummaged through it. When she’d retrieved the camera, she ran up to the drystone wall surrounding the field.

      “I’m in Ireland,” Nan shouted, throwing her arms out. “I want to see it all, starting right now.” She pointed to the tower. “I want to see that!

      Riley shook his head. She might be a bit fussy at times, but she was also adorable. He followed her, holding her hand as she scrambled over the wall. They walked across the field, Nan staring up at the old stone structure. “Who takes care of this? Why hasn’t anyone rebuilt this? How old is this one?” She threw questions at him, one after another, not waiting for an answer.

      “We have these all over Ireland,” he said. “There’s one just a few kilometers from Ballykirk. It’s bigger than this one. And you can climb up inside of it.”

      She pointed to the small window at the top of the crumbling tower. “Don’t you wonder who might have lived here? Who sat at that window and stared out over all this beauty?”

      “I doubt anyone ever lived here. They lived in the area around the tower. Some say these were bell towers. Like a warning system for the people who lived in the area or a way to call them to worship. They may have been used for defense. People would shut themselves inside if they were attacked.”

      She gently ran her hand over the rough stone wall and closed her eyes. Riley watched her, wondering if she was tired or if she was saying a prayer. “Are you all right?” he whispered.

      Nan glanced over at him. “Yes,” she murmured, nodding. “I’m just … all the life this tower has seen. Where I come from, the oldest building is maybe two hundred years old. This is ancient.”

      She looked so beautiful, the color in her cheeks high, her gaze bright with excitement, that he couldn’t help himself. He bent close and brushed a kiss against her lips. She didn’t move when he drew back, just stared up at him with wide eyes.

      Nan finally drew a breath. “I—I should take a picture. Stand by the door and look … fierce.”

      He did as she asked and posed for five or six photos before he grew impatient with her suggestions for posing. “You don’t need another photo of me,” he finally said. “Let me take a photo of you.”

      She posed for him and he took his time, watching her through the viewfinder. He’d always been attracted to girls with long hair, but short hair suited Nan Galvin. It was playful and sexy and he could imagine burying his face in it when he hugged her.

      “All right,” he said, clicking the shutter. “Got it.”

      A tiny smile played at her lips. “I want to remember everything about this trip,” she said softly. As they walked back to the car, she held the digital camera out to him. “That’s a good one,” she said, pointing to the tiny screen. “You look very handsome. Although, you’d look better if you shaved.”

      Riley slowed his pace as she continued to review the photos. Yes, she was undeniably attractive. And that sweet body, so slender and delicate, was just as intriguing as her pretty face. But she was also very odd, that one. He jogged to catch up to her and when they reached the car, he pulled her door open and waited for her to get inside.

      She turned her gaze up to his and then held out her hand. “Thank you.”

      Riley was so surprised he wasn’t sure what he ought to do. He took her fingers in his, deciding that a handshake wouldn’t do. Slowly, he brought her hand up to his lips. “No need for thanks. I was happy to … do whatever it was that I did.” The urge to kiss her again was overwhelming and Riley leaned closer. And then, without considering the consequences, he caught

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