Catch Me a Catch Page 2

  Good. I’ve got away with it.

  “Well, I need somewhere to stay…” Jack’s eyebrows creased.

  “I’ll call the hotel and see if there are any last minute cancellations.” Annie flipped open her mobile and scrolled through the numbers.

  “Hi, I’ve someone here who needs a room, have you any cancellations?” The answer was negative. “Thanks anyway, Carly.” Annie closed the phone. “Carly’s parents own the only hotel in Durna and they’re full.”

  She flipped the phone open again, talking rapidly to the person on the other end. Afterward she faced Jack. “Right, it’s sorted. During the festival, everyone rents out a room or two in their house. There are so many people looking for somewhere to stay, we have to. My mother had a cancellation yesterday. You go and do what you need to do, Mr Miller, and then meet me back here. You’re coming home with me.”

  A stunned expression flickered across his features. Then Jack nodded and sauntered out of the Maiden Arms. Heading out into a brightening sky, and the blue Atlantic Ocean.

  ****

  The smell of grilled steak in the air turned first Jack’s nose, and then his whole body toward it. His stomach growled in anticipation of a non-tin based meal. Up the hill past a row of houses facing the sea was an Italian restaurant. His pace quickened.

  “Table for one.” He followed a young waiter to a table.

  His hungry eyes scanned the menu.

  Ah, this was more like it.

  “Fillet steak, hold the pepper sauce, a double order of sautéed potatoes, and a bottle of Chianti.” The now calming sea was visible out of the large picture window.

  What on earth have I got myself into? He’d spotted her the moment he walked into the bar. Couldn’t believe his luck when the barman sent him her direction. She was really cute when she blushed. He grinned. She hadn’t liked telling him he was good-looking either.

  The waiter poured a small amount of wine. Jack lifted the glass to his lips, rolling the rich taste around in his mouth. “Perfect.”

  The waiter filled his glass.

  “So, you’re having a festival?”

  “We have the matchmaking festival here every year.” The young waiter seemed excited. Maybe not much else happened in Durna. “People come from everywhere for it. It’s world famous.”

  “I think I just met the matchmaker.” Jack lowered his voice to avoid being overheard. “Annie Devine?”

  “Annie’s father is the matchmaker, but she’s taking over this year. He’s not well so his wife isn’t letting him out.” The waiter pushed a hand over his buzz cut. “I think Annie was sort of thrown in at the deep end. She lives in Dublin now but came up yesterday to take his place.”

  “She married?” Jack held his breath. He couldn’t remember when he was last intrigued by a woman, but there was something incredibly attractive about Annie Devine. It would be just his luck if she had a jealous husband tucked away somewhere.

  “Annie’s single. But I’m pretty sure she’s not in the market for a boyfriend.”

  Jack blasted the young man with his most powerful glare. The waiter was talking as if he owned Annie.

  The waiter fidgeted and glanced away. “I’m sorry. I was rude. We’re all a bit over protective of Annie.”

  No kidding. “No harm done, I was only asking.”

  Annie was getting more interesting by the minute. Her long hair, unflattened by a hair straightener, tumbled in soft waves to just above her breasts. He didn’t ever think he’d seen hair such a fascinating color. It was a mass of different shades; like the burnished walnut dash of the boat. Unlike most of the women he knew, she didn’t plaster herself with make-up either. Her skin was clear and luminous, only lightly tanned, rather than fake baked. When she’d smiled, a dimple had teased in her cheek. He hadn’t even known he loved dimples before then. Her eyes were the color of rich chocolate. When her gaze fixed on his he’d blazed to his shoes.

  The waiter brought his steak. Jack closed his eyes and bit into the tender meat. The flavor rushed over his starved taste buds. If the restaurant were empty, he would have moaned aloud.

  One thing at a time.

  ****

  Surely it was time to go home?

  Annie rubbed her throbbing forehead. In the past couple of hours, a sea of people had drifted to her table; her face ached from smiling. So many people looking for love, all of them terrified of rejection. Well, it made sense really. With her history, she couldn’t blame them. Rejection sucked. And in such a close knit community it was a very public humiliation. She hated being the focus of gossip. The last thing she needed was a love affair, but Jack Miller was tempting her away from that point of view.

  “Oh, thanks, Niall.” Yet another cup of coffee. She would be buzzing all night.

  “How’s it going?” After a quick glance to make sure he had no customers waiting, Niall sat down.

  “Not too well.” Disappointment clawed at her insides. “I’ve done the interviews and taken their pictures, but they’d all be much happier talking to my father.”

  “I suppose they’re used to talking to a man.” He patted her hand. “They’ll come around.”

  An aging farmer paused mid-step when he spied Annie in Bull’s usual chair. Indecision flickered and for a moment it looked like he was going to run, but he clenched his jaw and kept walking steadily towards her.

  “Give it your best shot,” Niall whispered. “That’s all you can do.”

  Half an hour later, Annie shook the balding farmer’s hand. It’s difficult to know who’s more relieved that’s over. Suddenly, the hairs on her nape stood up, and her body hummed in awareness as a familiar figure strode toward her.

  “I’m back.” Jack slid into the seat opposite. “Are you still offering me a room, or am I going back to the boat?”

  “You’re coming home with me. I told you; it’s all arranged.” Annie closed the book and snagged her jacket from the chair back. “I’m finished for the day. Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes. I’ve brought a few things from the boat. I was hoping to find a launderette.”

  “You can use the washing machine and dryer at home.”

  He followed her out.

  “My car’s over here.”

  Jack folded his long frame awkwardly into the passenger seat. There was a scant inch above his head. He wasn’t built for a Mini.

  Potholes littered the road on the way to the little house facing the sea where she’d grown up. She bounced up and down on the hard seat as the Mini bounded over them. The suspension was so hard it was like being on a space-hopper built for two.

  “Sorry about the potholes.” She turned off the road and parked behind her parents’ house. He was asleep. Sooty lashes brushed his cheeks. His hair stood up at the back as though stiff with salt. The magic paintbrush of sleep had erased the wrinkles around his eyes, making him look younger, more vulnerable somehow. How can he affect me so strongly even when he’s asleep? Her libido ran riot imagining his firm lips teasing hers. Her core heated and her hand moved of its own volition to stroke his cheek.

  “We’re here.” Her heart fluttered, caught in a sensuous spell. Electric-blue eyes opened slowly, their sleepy expression sharpening into instant desire. His gaze fell to her mouth.

  Heat blazed as she pulled in a shaky breath. His shoulders were too close in the narrow seat. His thighs too close to hers. The heat was suddenly stifling.

  She pulled her fingers away from his face, and gripped them in her lap. They tingled with the imprint of warm skin and whiskers. An electric current arced between them as he leaned closer. The air between their lips sizzled.

  A door slammed loudly. Annie jerked away from the lure of Jack’s warm mouth, eyes wide with shock.

  “We’re here,” she croaked. “Come and meet my mother.”

  She jumped out of the car before he had a chance to react.

  Chapter Two

  Jack rubbed gritty eyes with his fingers.

  What the hell?r />
  The small, dark haired seductress was hugging her mother so he stayed where he was. He scratched his jaw to banish the buzz of Annie’s warm fingers on his face.

  After a couple of minute’s rapid-fire chat they turned and caught him staring. Busted. He untangled himself from the tiny car and plastered on a smile. Roxie was always telling him if he didn’t, strangers were terrified of him.

  “Mum, this is Jack.”

  Annie’s chestnut gaze focused on his neck, avoiding his eyes. She flushed red. The girl was useless at hiding her emotions.

  “Jack Miller.” He proffered his hand.

  “I’m Maeve,” Annie’s mother clutched it in an iron grip, and shook. “Welcome to our home, Jack. Come in.” He followed her into the house’s cool interior. “So, have you traveled up from Dublin?”

  “No, I sailed in.”

  Her mouth stretched into a smile and her eyes sparkled. “Sailed? That’s a new one. Were you traveling long?”

  “I’ve been at sea for three weeks.”

  Annie looked astonished.

  “I’m apologizing in advance. The shower broke in the boat and I’m not as fragrant as I could be!”

  “I’ll show you straight up to your room. You have your own bathroom with plenty of hot water, so that’ll be soon sorted. Are you hungry? Can I fix you something to eat?”

  “No thanks. I was fantasizing about steak, so I tracked one down the minute I got in.”

  Maeve grabbed fluffy towels from the airing cupboard, and eased open the door to a bedroom. A large double bed filled one wall, covered in a soft yellow quilt. It was clean and airy, with a fantastic view of the garden.

  “This looks great.” The smell of cut grass wafted in from the open window. In the distance, a blue swathe of sea sparkled in the sunlight.

  “Your bathroom’s over there.”

  Maeve glanced at the rucksack slung over his shoulder, and pulled open the wardrobe door. “And there’s plenty of room to hang your things. I think you’ll find everything you need, but if you don’t just holler,” she added before disappearing down the corridor.

  Annie was quiet.

  The hair stood up on the back of his neck. She was staring at him. He just knew it.

  “You didn’t tell me you were at sea for three weeks.”

  “You didn’t ask.” He kicked off his shoes at the foot of the bed and reached for the towels. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Jack smothered a smile as she bristled, turned on her heels and disappeared after her mother.

  In the bathroom, he grinned at the unfamiliar face in the mirror. No wonder Annie thought I’d have to work hard to attract a mate!

  He pushed matted strands of hair back from his face, grimacing in pain as his scalp protested. Not his usual look, by any means. In fact, he was pretty sure none of his business colleagues would recognize this shabby stranger as the millionaire owner of Miller Advertising. None of their shoulders would be aching as his did either. The last struggle with the yacht in the storm was a lot more taxing than his weekly squash game. A long hot bath should help.

  Steam billowed from the hot stream cascading into the deep enamel bath. A large glass bottle, stoppered with a cork, sat on the shelf, next to a cracked bar of soap. The thick liquid inside was a transparent gold, probably not lavender or rose then, he didn’t want to smell like anyone’s granny. Jack forced open the tight closure with finger and thumb to take a tentative sniff. Vanilla. Perfect. Subtle and not too sweet. A thin golden stream poured into the steaming torrent created a foaming mass of bubbles.

  He stripped off his clothes, and climbed in.

  The scent of vanilla filled the air as he rubbed bubbles over his chest and closed his eyes. He stretched his legs out in the hot water, edging down to see how much of himself he could fully submerge. It was the longest bathtub he’d ever been in, and his chest welled with satisfaction as the silky water covered him.

  Annie Devine. She really was divine. She probably didn’t even know how attractive she looked perched on the chair with the big book open in front of her. She wasn’t his usual type. In fact, she was the complete antithesis of what Roxie called ‘the blonde army’ of his previous girlfriends.

  “They’re all the same, Jack. Tall, blonde, successful and confident. When are you going to give a real woman a chance?” Roxie had ranted more than once. The one thing about the blonde army was they understood the rules. His relationships followed carefully set guidelines. They were fun, they were exclusive, and they weren’t permanent. Jack didn’t need anyone, and he didn’t want anyone to need him. Those types of complications only led to heartache. And he wasn’t going there again.

  Annie was a real woman. She was attracted to him, too. Even though she’d avoided holding his gaze too long, her small pink tongue had flicked out to moisten her lips when they met and she’d nervously fiddled with the ragged corner of the book.

  She’d stood out like a beacon in the mustiness of the bar. Her long sleeved blue cotton shirt perfectly showcased her breasts. When she’d walked out of the pub in front of him he’d got a great view of long legs and a small but curvy behind inside tight jeans. He skimmed a hand through the acres of bubbles and sank under the water.

  The Chandler, Sean Devine said it would take days to get the boat ready to sail to Dun Laoghaire. He would be stuck here for a week at least, right in Annie’s house. Maybe playing lovesick bachelor would be an amusing diversion.

  He squeezed out a nut of shampoo and massaged it into his hair. She was so insistent I give her a try I had to surrender. Deceit niggled, but he shrugged it off. If he got in too deep, he’d let her know what he was really doing in Ireland. Although frankly, that wasn’t anybody’s business but his.

  ****

  The bathroom door creaked so loudly they heard it in the kitchen.

  “He’s a fine one.” Maeve was digging for information, as usual.

  “He’s a client, Mum. Not a potential boyfriend.” He was a fine one, there wasn’t any denying it, but Annie’d rather walk over flaming coals than admit it. With both parents so skilled at the art of squeezing information out of people, changing the subject was always the best form of defense.

  “How’s Da?”

  “Unbearable. He can’t stand being out of the action.” Maeve poured tea into mugs. “He’s dozing out in the garden, waiting for you to be finished for the day. Take him out a cup will you, Love?”

  Annie slipped the heavy matchmaking book under her arm. She grasped two mugs and slipped sideways through the back door her mother held open. A soft breeze teased her long strands of hair, lifting them. The air was redolent with the scent of summer. After a day stuck in the pub, the smell of freshly mown grass was the perfect antidote to warm beer, sour breath, and unwashed men.

  Bull Devine sat on the rough-hewn chair his father had made under the spreading apple tree.

  “I’ve brought us some tea, Da.” Bull was already looking better. When he took to his bed last week they were all worried. He hadn’t visited the doctor for years because he hadn’t needed to, and always refused to go for a check-up. This time he was so sick he hadn’t even had the strength to complain when the doctor arrived at his bedside.

  “It’s just a chest infection, Annie.” Maeve confided on the phone after the doctor prescribed antibiotics and left. “Thank God.”

  She passed over the tea, and settled down next to him.

  There was a movement in the window upstairs. Through the lacy veil of blossoms, there was a sudden glimpse of naked male torso.

  If she were alone, she would have sat and stared. But she wasn’t, so averted her gaze quickly. It didn’t help. The mental image of a wet, naked Jack burned into her retina. Her temperature raised by a couple of degrees, and she fanned her face with her hand, to cool down. She gulped a mouthful of tea, moistening her suddenly dry mouth.

  “Hi, Annie. Tough day?” Bull’s words brought her back down to earth with a bump.

  “The worst. God only knows h
ow you manage it, year after year. I’m wrecked.”

  She stretched out her legs and slipped her shoes off, wriggling her toes in the damp grass. “I didn’t do very well, I’m afraid.” The breeze whipped her hair into her eyes. “I had trouble with some of the local guys. The older ones were quiet and embarrassed. And the younger ones that I was in school with, flirted relentlessly. I’ve spent years dodging the attentions of many of them, and there I was, asking them what they were looking for in a woman.”

  Annie grimaced. The day had been like a bad reality show with her as one of the hapless contestants. Maybe if she treated information gathering as a series of challenges to be overcome it would be easier.

  “When Liam Mackey told me I was exactly what he was looking for, I nearly slapped him.” Why on earth Liam Mackey thought for a moment she’d be interested when he’d stuffed frogs in the pocket of her painting smock when they were seven, and splashed her riding his bike through a puddle when they were nine…

  “They’re nervous, Annie.” Bull’s puppy dog eyes dissolved her irritation. The man was really good at what he did. Master manipulators made the best matchmakers. “Men want love in their lives, but they’re frightened of rejection, I’ve told you that.”

  He had. Repeatedly. In fact, it was Bull’s favorite lecture. The vulnerability of the mate- seeking male.

  “I can’t help thinking if I was married, or at least involved with someone it’d be different.” Annie frowned. When she was with Steve, she hadn’t had this problem. But then again, she hadn’t been asking the locals what they were looking for in a woman. “As it is, they seem to think I’m interviewing for a boyfriend.”

  “They all know you’re single. And I guess there’s always the possibility you might indeed be looking for a boyfriend.” He held his hands up in surrender as her mouth opened to protest. “I know you’re not, but they don’t. Even if they’re not applying for the position, the opportunity to practice chat up lines on a captive female is probably too good to resist.”

  Bull’s face screwed up like a tissue. “Sorry, Love. I haven’t much to suggest. I don’t have the same problem when I’m matchmaking.” His shoulders lifted and fell in defeat.