Catch Me a Catch Read online

  “Can I taste it now?”

  “No. Not yet.” She shook her head, looking serious. “First you have to smell it.”

  Jack stifled a grin as Maeve and Bull closed their eyes and sniffed the chocolates. This was really getting ridiculous.

  “Smell it, Jack.” Annie frowned, and to keep the peace he brought the chocolate to his nose and gave it a cursory sniff.

  “Great.” He had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. This sure wasn’t the way he ate chocolates. His usual technique consisted of stuff it in, chew and swallow.

  “Now, we can taste.” Annie held up a finger in warning. “But don’t just toss it in there and chew, Jack. You need to put the chocolate into your mouth and wait for it to melt.”

  “Umm, the melting point.” Maeve carefully placed the chocolate in her mouth and waited, as if expecting an alarm clock to start ringing.

  “Okay, go ahead.”

  The heady taste of chocolate bloomed on his tongue. He pressed the candy to the roof of his mouth. Delicious. The soft, creamy center dissolved, and an intense flowery flavor teased his taste buds. His eyes closed and he surrendered to the full sensual onslaught of the chocolate. So that’s why women love it so much. When he reluctantly opened them, Annie was staring at him, her pupils huge.

  “That has got to be the best chocolate I’ve ever tasted.” He licked the remnants from his top lip. Her eyes flickered to his mouth, setting off an uncomfortable tightening in his body.

  “Thank you.”

  Was she aware of his body’s reaction to her? Jack shifted in his seat. It wasn’t the time or the place to be having a private moment with her parents sitting right there with them. He glanced sideways. Bull was popping his second chocolate into his mouth with a look of pure bliss on his face. Good, nobody seemed to have noticed.

  “Annie, you’ve outdone yourself,” Maeve said.

  Realization dawned. “You made these?”

  Annie nodded, and straightened the plate with nervous fingers. “I’m a chocolatier. These are my entries for the Chocolate Oscars competition. The elderflower ganache got me through to the semi-finals.”

  “I’m not surprised, they’re wonderful.” The contents of his plate looked as good as they tasted. “Do you make them here?”

  “I used to, when I was learning. Now I make them in my flat in Dublin.” Her shy smile was enchanting. “I have all my equipment and supplies there. It takes up quite a lot of space.”

  “They’re delicious, Darling.” Maeve recovered from her chocolate induced trance. “What’s the other one?”

  “It’s a praline. A different type of chocolate to demonstrate my range.” She picked one up and looked at it. “This is my semi-final entry. Everybody ready to try one?”

  This time Jack knew what was coming. The bizarre ritual grew on him and he looked, felt and smelled the chocolate with the others. His mouth watered as the heady aroma stimulated his senses.

  Annie placed one into her mouth, her small pink tongue visible as her lips parted to receive it. God, who knew chocolate tasting could be so goddamned erotic?

  He couldn’t look away. The moment her chocolate started to melt a look of ecstasy came over her face. Her eyelids fluttered shut and a half smile of total bliss smoothed her features. What would it be like to kiss her now?

  He followed her lead. As it melted, he bit in to the dissolving chocolate. The texture of finely ground nuts slightly abrasive against his over-sensitized tongue. He moaned, swirling the thick filling over his tongue. She was a genius. The flavors were so perfectly matched the immediate rush of the chocolate blended with the praline perfectly, fading to a warm cocoa aftertaste.

  “God, those are good.”

  “I delivered a batch of these to the judges in Dublin before I came up yesterday. If I win, I’m through to the finals. Then I’ll have to produce my top chocolate.”

  “Which is?”

  She was dangerously fascinating, and fast becoming irresistible. “Divine. I just call it Divine.”

  “Did you bring one for us to taste?” The white cardboard box on the counter was too far away to check.

  “No, Divine is under wraps.”

  “Until they ask for it,” he finished. She didn’t need to explain, he knew why.

  There was a magical purity about creation. The moment before revealing your greatest creation was one to be guarded jealously; lest any of the magic should dissipate. It was the same in his business. Jack let his ideas for an advertising campaign take careful form. Allowing them to develop, like all the subtle flavors in one of Annie’s creations, before presenting to a client. Once the client had seen the campaign, the moment was broken. Up until then, the magic needed to be kept safe. He and Annie Devine had more in common than he’d thought.

  “I’ll put the kettle on.” Maeve walked to the counter. “Annie, take Jack out to put his things in the dryer, he’ll get lost in the dark.”

  ****

  Annie glanced out at the darkening sky. He can see perfectly well, but Mum will be appalled if I refuse. She battled with conflicting emotions at the thought of being outside in the dark with Jack Miller. The revelation he was a transatlantic sailor had been a shock. When she’d found out he wasn’t a client, and remembered all the things she’d said to him, her embarrassment had turned fairly quickly into anger.

  Despite herself, his reaction to her chocolates had dissolved her anger at his deception. His face had changed when he bit into the first chocolate. Would he look like that if they were making love? Rough waves of desire flooded her. By the time he’d touched the second chocolate to his lips she was so turned on she thought she might combust. It was only the presence of her parents in the kitchen that stopped her from walking up and licking the trace of chocolate off those firm molded lips.

  He’s dangerous. She walked to the back door. And he’s not a client any more, so he’s available. She stepped out onto the rough cement path on the way to the shed.

  “You’re supposed to be making sure I don’t fall in the dark.” His warm hand grasped hers in the darkness. “Not run away from me.”

  “I’m not running anywhere.” She faced him. “Although after today I think I’d be entitled. Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

  “I told you matchmaking me wasn’t going to happen,” he replied stubbornly. “And you begged me to give you a chance.”

  “So you do want to meet a woman then.” She tried to pull her hand away.

  “I don’t.” He gripped her hand tightly. The rough ridges of his thumb stroked the sensitive skin on the back of her hand, playing havoc. “In fact, before you touched me, the last thing I wanted to do was meet a woman.” His voice was so low it was only a grumble in the darkness.

  She’d touched first. Trust him to remember.

  “Huh.” She tugged her hand out of his grip. “You’ll have to do better if you think I’m going to forgive the dance you led me. You even sat out here this evening and let me take your picture. Why did you do that if you’ve no intention of going in the book?”

  She reached the door and flicked on the light.

  “I have trouble saying no to you.” He walked past her and pulled his clothes out of the washing machine. “I have a feeling it’s a common complaint around here.” He stuffed the wet clothes into the drier. She ignored him. It was too tempting to forgive and surrender to his flirtations, but a trace of humiliation lingered. She wasn’t inclined to let him off the hook so easily.

  “You misled me. You weren’t honest,” she insisted stubbornly, scrutinizing his butt as he bent to place the last handful of clothes in the dryer.

  “Like you’re honest.” He straightened and caught her staring.

  “Yes.” She crossed her hands in front of her chest. The thin cotton shirt wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding her erect nipples.

  “But you’re not honest.”

  “What do you mean I’m not honest? I am!” It was as though she had signs pointing all her
buttons out in neon, and he was pressing them.

  “Then why don’t you tell them you dread the idea of being the next matchmaker?”

  The color drained from her face. How had he worked it out?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I thought you were honest?” he challenged, gripping her upper arms. “I saw your face when your father told me, Annie. Don’t try and fool me.”

  “I’m not trying to fool anyone.” Being the matchmaker was more than a job. It was her destiny. Her dreaded inheritance. “I just don’t know how to tell him.”

  The touch of his hands set off an unwanted blaze of reaction. She scooted away, and his hands dropped to his sides. She rubbed her upper arms vigorously banishing the disturbing tingle that overcame her body every time Jack touched her.

  “So, now you know how I felt,” he answered, wryly. “But at least I came clean. You need to tell them. They’ll understand.”

  “No. They won’t.”

  She’d struggled with the idea of telling them for years. Finally, she’d avoided the problem by leaving. With Durna out of sight, it had been blissfully out of mind. But a problem avoided wasn’t a problem solved. Being back for the festival had brought it dead center again.

  “There’s always been a Devine matchmaker at the festival. My father expects me to continue the tradition. If I had any brothers or sisters perhaps I’d have a chance, but I don’t…” How could she explain her feelings to him? She couldn’t even deal with them herself.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do about it, which is why I haven’t told anyone how I feel.” It was something she’d wrestled with forever. The most difficult challenge she’d faced since Steve left her at the altar. She didn’t want to disappoint her father. He’d be crushed. “You have to promise not to talk about it. It’s going to be hard to tell them. I’ll have to cross that bridge when I come to it.”

  “So you’re just going to pretend?”

  “Right now, yes.” She willed him to understand.

  “I don’t get it. You’re an adult, Annie. You control your own life; you shouldn’t live it by anyone else’s rules.” He turned to face her, and placed his hands on his hips.

  “I want to open a shop in Dublin. And you don’t know me or my family. I can’t break my father’s heart by telling him I don’t want to be the next matchmaker. It’s not that easy.” She brushed the hair tumbling into her eyes away. Challenged him with her glare. “Do you do everything you want?”

  “Yes.” Jack stepped closer and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. His eyes darkened to stormy blue. “I do.”

  He wanted to kiss her. She felt it in the powerful electricity that surged through her at the touch of his calloused thumb against her mouth. Her heart hammered in her chest as warring emotions battled within her. Give in to desire, or get away before she did something she might regret. She took the easy option.

  “It’s cold out here. Let’s go back in.” She swiveled on her heel and hurried down the path, every molecule stretched tight with awareness of his presence, following.

  Chapter Four

  Annie dragged the duvet up to her ears and curled her legs closer to her body. Outside the window, tree branches swayed from side to side in the darkness and bats swooped fast and low, hunting moths attracted to the faint light cast by the rooms below.

  Drawn to the light just like I’m drawn to Jack. Everything came back to the man lying in the bed in the next room. Even now, with a busy day of matchmaking ahead, her ears strained for any sound through the thick walls.

  Her long ago attraction to Steve was water compared to the whiskey kick of excitement that flooded her senses when Jack’s thumb had caressed her mouth. It threw her off kilter. Too tongue tied to make casual conversation after the incident in the laundry room, she’d escaped early to bed.

  The bed was as lumpy as ever. She relieved some tension by pounding her pillows, and then rearranged them and tried to settle again. It was no use. Her hormones were in an uproar. Her imagination running overtime.

  I know what I want from life, and Jack Miller isn’t it.

  She closed her eyes tight, willing herself to sleep.

  Liar.

  ****

  The sea glistened in the midday sun. Diamond flickers of light bounced off the tiny caps of the waves. An off-sea breeze plastered Jack’s tee shirt to his chest and he angled his right shoulder forward to deflect it. His calves burning at the unaccustomed exercise, he stopped for a moment to stretch out his straining muscles. He pushed his toes skyward in a hamstring stretch, and continued down the road again. Last night had been a disaster, one he was determined to mitigate. It would take time to repair the boat. Hopefully his relationship with Annie could be repaired more quickly.

  The lunchtime crowd teemed around the pub like wasps around an apple tree. Jack eased his way through them into the dark interior. It took a moment to adjust after the sun’s brightness. Annie held court at the matchmaker’s table.

  If the pub was an apple tree, Annie was a pot full of jam, totally surrounded by buzzing men. Or a lighthouse, standing steady in a testosterone sea, which ebbed and flowed around her. She wasn’t flirting. The short denim skirt and long black leather boots encasing her long, shapely legs were doing that for her. Her tee-shirt couldn’t be any closer to her chest if it were sprayed on.

  She flicked her mane of chestnut hair over her shoulder. It tumbled down her back like a sinuous ribbon.

  A soft silky …

  He clenched his fists tightly. Get a grip.

  A figure stepped out of the swarm, moving close enough to touch. Blood rushed to his head and his feet ate up the distance between them, but not quickly enough. The young buck reached out and stroked a lazy finger down her arm.

  “Will you come for lunch with me, Annie?” the teenager asked.

  She turned to the boy and gently removed his hand with a soft smile.

  “Sorry, Michael…”

  Jack clenched his fists at his sides, and plastered on a smile.

  “Hi, Darling. Sorry I’m late.”

  Her mouth opened and closed like a stunned goldfish. Her long eyelashes blinked, and her chestnut eyes gazed into his. A lone eyelash escaped in the movement and he stroked it away. His breath caught in his throat when the color of her eyes intensified to chocolate at his touch.

  “Jack.” He captured the small hand Annie pushed against his chest. Like the opening step of a dance, Jack’s hand curled around her ribcage and propelled her closer. Blood pounded in his ears as his lips met hers. She sighed, and her hand slid up around his neck.

  The buzz of conversation faded and time stopped. Her tongue touched his and he deepened the kiss. Her fingers stroked his neck, slid into his scalp. Someone coughed, breaking the spell and thrusting the reality of the situation front and centre. Dazed, he opened his eyes. This wasn’t the time. It certainly wasn’t the place.

  He drew back, holding on to her elbow.

  “I’ve booked us a table in Mario’s.” He made a pretense of studying his Rolex.

  “We better go.”

  She stretched across the table for her handbag and the matchmaking book. A pack of male eyes tracked her movement.

  Jack smiled at the unfamiliar faces. “I’m Jack Miller.” He stuck his hand out to Annie’s disappointed suitor who could barely make eye contact as he shook it.

  Before she could protest, Jack grabbed Annie’s hand, and wove through the crowd to the door. He strode up the hill towards the restaurant while she trotted beside him trying to keep up.

  ****

  She should have worn socks. The back of her heels burned against the black leather. She puffed out a breath and clenched her teeth. There would be a showdown, but they could do without an audience. An opportunity arose as they drew parallel to a small laneway and she shoved him sideways into it. He stumbled. Stopped.

  “Annie! What the hell?” She grabbed him by his upper arms and slammed him back aga
inst the worn brickwork of the building.

  “What did you think you were doing?” The potent buzz of anger infused every pore. “What sort of idiot caveman are you?”

  He’d kissed her. In front of everyone. She scrunched her eyes tight shut to blot out the memory. And, stupidly, she’d let him. With a snort of disgust, she dropped her hands to her sides and moved away. He’d better have a good excuse for kissing her, because she didn’t have a clue why she’d kissed him back.

  “You needed my help.” Jack clenched his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest. “They were all over you in there.”

  A tension headache stabbed between her eyes. Oh great. Hero complex.

  “I did not need your help. I can take care of myself; I’ve been doing it for years. The last thing I needed was you pawing me in front of the whole town. You’ve made a show of me.” She bit her lip, the repercussions of her very public response to him fully sinking in. Her privacy was the most important thing to her. And she’d just tossed it away by kissing him.

  “They all already think I’m desperate. Now every guy in the village will think I’m easy too. I’ll be fighting them off with a stick,” she muttered wryly. This was morphing into the weekend from hell. Before she melted back to Dublin, the grapevine would be buzzing with more news on her love life. Just what she didn’t need.

  He shoved away from the wall towards her. She glared, effectively halting his approach. “I kissed you for a reason, and it wasn’t the obvious one.”

  “So you didn’t want to, then?” The words escaped before she could restrain them. Why should she care whether he wanted to kiss her or not? She didn’t want him to. That was all there was to it.

  “Yes, I bloody wanted to.” His brows furrowed, and his mouth flattened into a thin line. “But that’s not why I did it. You had Michael feeling you up…”

  “He touched my arm!” she shouted. “In what, twisted parallel universe are you living, when a guy I’ve known all my life touching my arm qualifies as feeling me up?”