Catch Me a Catch (4 page)

“How was the
journey—worth it?”

“Yes,
definitely. I’ve learnt a lot about the yacht on the voyage. It’ll make the
presentation much weightier. I want you to do a couple of things for me.”

“Okay, shoot.”
Roxie switched to efficiency mode.

“Confirm
Monday’s meeting with Bateau Rouge in Dublin. Have you organized my hotel?”

“Yes, Boss.
You’re booked into the Shelbourne for Sunday and Monday nights. I’ll get the
car transferred from Dun Laoghaire, they have a branch in Galway.” The rapid
clicking of keys showed she was right on it.

“Right, give
me their number and I’ll handle the pick up from here.” Jack found an old
envelope in his jacket pocket, and jotted down the name and telephone number.

“That’s great,
Roxie. Can you patch me though to Mark?” He gazed out of the window into the verdant
green of the garden, so different from his usual view of grey waves, and greyer
sky. A cloud of pink blossoms shrouded a large tree. Something moved under it.

“Jack, you
made it!” The congratulatory tones of his second in command, Mark Windsor came
onto the line.

“Hi Mark. Yes.
It was a long and rough trip but I’m finally here.”

“I’m staying
put for the next few days. I’m in a town called Durna, it’s on the west coast.
I’m compiling the data from the sail for a presentation that should rock Bateau
Rouge on Monday. How’s everything with you? Have you presented to Mecredi Cars?”

“We’re ready
to go. The presentation’s in a few hours.” Mark sounded confident.

Jason Mecredi,
owner and Chairman of Mecredi Cars, was notoriously difficult but Mark was
ready to go solo on a presentation. He was perfect partner material, and it
would be good to split the load.

“All right,
Mark. I’ll talk to you later. Give ‘em hell.” He hung up. Annie’s voice drifted
up to his window. She wasn’t alone. He heard the deeper tones of a man.

She laughed
warmly and his stomach clenched in an irrational burst of temper.

I guess the
waiter’s wrong. She’s got a boyfriend after all.
Acid burned in his gut. He
turned away from the half-hidden cozy tableau beneath him to stuff his arms
into a worn denim shirt. If she has a boyfriend, that’s her business. He hadn’t
come to Ireland to flirt with a woman. He had a job to do. And a relative to
find.

There were
footsteps on the path below, then the heavy thud of the kitchen door. He rooted
out his plastic bag of washing from the bottom of the knapsack and went
downstairs.

The buzz of
conversation ceased abruptly as he entered the kitchen.

“You clean up
well.” Maeve flicked the kettle on. “We’ll be having dinner in a while; I hope
you’ll join us.”

His stomach
was full of steak. But he could force something else in. “That would be great,
Mrs. Devine. I’ve no plans.”

“Maeve.” She
spotted the bag hanging from his hand. “Washing?”

“Annie said…”

“I know, she
told me.” Maeve turned to her daughter. “Annie, take Jack out to the shed and
introduce him to the washing machine. You’ll find everything you need out
there, Jack.”

It was warm in
the back garden. Annie silently walked around the corner to a small shed. The
door squeaked open, and she stood back to let him pass.

He stopped.

“What’s the
matter?” She was so close every tiny eyelash was visible. The dark pool of her
irises expanded, swallowing up the brown. Despite his determination not to get
involved, he leant forward and breathed in deeply. A scent of flowers, and
something lemony hung in the air.

Tangible waves
of disquiet rolled off her. She ran the tip of her tongue over full, pink lips.
Desire flashed instantly, like oxygen flowing onto sparks. How would she taste?
She turned away, but he caught her by her upper arms and stepped into her
personal space.

“Are you
avoiding me?”

“No.” She
stepped back. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

His hand moved
to her jawline. “That’s not all. There’s something different about you.” Her
skin was warm, strokeably soft. He shouldn’t be touching, but he couldn’t
resist. “I heard you laughing with a man, while I was getting dressed earlier.
Will he be joining us for dinner?” Damn it, he sounded like a jealous lover.
Sure, she’d leaned close to him in the car, let her fingers trail over his
face, then gazed at him with big brown eyes as though she wanted to kiss him,
but maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe she got a kick from leading a guy on.

He rubbed his
thumb slowly over her jawbone. She was attracted to him all right; her swift
intake of breath was a dead giveaway. She swayed into his hand and her eyes
drifted closed like a virgin sacrifice, offering herself. His traitorous body
tightened in response. Some poor sap was going to be devastated if he took what
she was so blatantly offering. He gulped and took a step away. Jack wouldn’t be
responsible for another man’s heartbreak. He knew what that was like, and had
vowed never to trust a woman again. He loved women. Their smell, their taste,
the sound of their laughter. The last woman he’d given his heart to in New York
had seemed devoted to him. Right up to the moment he caught her in bed with
someone else. He lived life by different rules now. There were plenty of women
who were interested in spending time in his bed without falling in love.

“What?” Annie
whispered.

“I said, will
the man you were laughing with earlier be joining us for dinner tonight?”

“Yes, he
will.” She chewed on her lip. “And we better hurry up putting your clothes in
the washer. You look so much better since your bath. I’d like to get a photo
before the light goes.”

She really
was a piece of work.

“For the
book,” she spelled out calmly. “
I
don’t need a picture.”

“Not while you
have the real thing in front of you anyway.” He followed her into the shed;
eyes glued to the subtle sway of her hips.

“There’s
powder there. Set the washing machine to four for a general wash.”

“Right, I’ll
see you back at the house.”

“I’ll get my
camera.” She squeezed past him, brushing against his skin. A tingle of
electricity shot up his arm, like the one that fried his boat and forced him to
pull in to Durna in the first place. He frowned at her departing back. A raw
flash of lust was roaring to life at the mere sensation of her flesh touching
his. What would full on skin-to-skin contact be like? He harshly stuffed his
clothes into the washing machine, stunned by his body’s reaction. Annie Devine
was dangerous. The last thing he wanted to do was have a fling with another
woman he couldn’t respect in the morning.

****

Annie
trembled. She jerked open the car door to grab her camera. She’d never been so
confused in her entire life. One minute Jack was stroking her face, and the
next looking at her with disgust in his eyes.

And her
reaction to him…what was that about? She shivered. His body heat had scorched
her in the doorway of the shed. She could have sworn she’d caught the faint
scent of vanilla. Something was happening between them. Something she didn’t
want, and couldn’t have. He was a sailor, for goodness sake. A man who spent
long weeks at sea.

She hung the
camera’s strap around her neck. She had a life in the city, and her lifelong
dream was so close she could taste it. A dream that would take her far away
from the sea. Yet here she was, captivated by a sailor. When he touched her,
she’d yearned for his mouth to grind down on hers. It was crazy.
He’s a
client. The one ironclad rule of matchmaking is not to poach the clients.

Jack strode
out of the shed toward the back door.

“Hold up, I’ll
take a picture of you now.” He paused mid-step, and waited for her to catch up.
Annie pointed the camera at him but he was so tall the result was a far from
flattering shot up his nostril. She grinned. It wouldn’t get him any dates. She
half wanted to put it in the book anyway. To keep the women of Durna off him.

“You’ll have
to sit down.”

She gestured
at the cast iron chair and table her mother had placed at the back door.

“Right.” Jack
sat and scowled at her.

“Smile.” He
wasn’t co-operating. If anything, his scowl darkened. “Oh come on, Jack, you
can do better than that,” she teased. “Remember you want women to look at this
picture and choose you, rather than any of the other men in the book.”

His eyes
glinted a warning, but it was too late to take back the flirtatious words.

“What would
make you choose me, rather than any of your other suitors?” A devastating grin
transformed his face. She burned under its heat like a chicken on a spit.

“That’d do
it,” she muttered under her breath. “That’ll do,” she repeated loudly, snapping
the shutter. “Let’s go in for dinner.”

He opened the
door wide and stood back to let her stride into the kitchen before him.

Chapter Three

Four places
were set at the heavy pine table. As Jack waited for the final chair to be
filled, his body tensed at the thought of meeting the sucker Annie was
stringing along. The door creaked open. A heavyset man with graying hair
shuffled arthritically to the table.

“I’m Brendan
Devine.” The newcomer held out his hand to Jack in welcome. “But everyone calls
me Bull. You must be Jack.” He pumped Jack’s captured hand vigorously. “You’re
welcome to our house.”

“Thank you.”
So this was the stranger. Not some boyfriend. He’d got it totally wrong. What
was worse, Annie knew it. He ran his hand though his hair. “I think I heard you
in the garden earlier.”

“That would be
right. I was getting a progress report from Annie. I can’t stand not being in
the thick of things with the festival being on, but the doctor’s a tyrant.” He
leant closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I’ve known him since he was
a pup. I introduced his parents, but that doesn’t get me any respect
apparently. I have to take it easy until my chest improves. Maeve here has me
more or less confined to bed. Normally I wouldn’t mind it too much, but with
the festival being on…”

“Potatoes,
Da?”

Bull helped
himself from the bowl Annie held.

“So that’s why
Annie is up in the pub, on the matchmaker’s chair.” Jack said.

“She’s the
next matchmaker. Or will be when I finally give it up.”

Jack glanced
at Annie. Surely, her family could see the look of dread flickering over her
expressive face?

“That won’t be
for years, Da.” She surreptitiously crossed the fingers of her right hand, and
ate with her left.

“Tell us about
yourself, Jack.” Maeve’s clear green gaze fastened to his like the guidance
system of a heat-seeking missile.

“I’ve just
sailed the Atlantic.”

Annie gasped.

“And you came
all this way for the festival?” Maeve’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline.
Annie was going to be mad, but now was the time to come clean. Jack began to
understand what people meant when they wished for the floor to open up and
swallow them as three pairs of eyes swiveled his direction. He sipped some water
to clear the tightness in his throat.
Here goes
. He put his fork down,
clenching his napkin under the table and turned to Annie’s steady chestnut
gaze.

“No I didn’t.”
Her eyes widened, and her rosebud mouth gaped. “Unfortunately Annie misunderstood.”

“You came into
the Maiden’s Arms and asked for Devine,” Annie interrupted. “I heard you.”

“My yacht got
struck by lightning. I had to make an emergency stop. When I came ashore, I saw
the sign for the Chandlers. It was closed and I was directed to the pub. That’s
why…”

“That’s why
you were looking for Devine. You wanted Uncle Sean.” She glared across the
table. “You could have just told me. Not let me go on about how you were a good
looking man, and all.” A reddening flush swept her features and her fingers
clenched into fists.

“I did try and
tell you matching me was never going to happen.”

She wasn’t
going to forgive him. Her jaw was set in a stubborn line.

“Ah well, no
harm done,” Maeve said briskly. “Eat up now before it gets cold.” The only
coldness was the glacial draft blowing his direction from across the table.
“Sean tells me you’ve fried everything, right enough. He says you won’t be
moving on for a few days yet.”

He stared at
Maeve in surprise. Annie’s mother had obviously done her research, and knew his
stay in Durna was more impulsive than planned.

“So, Bull. Did
Annie find you any good prospects for the book?” Maeve winked at him. He puffed
out a breath as the tension left his body.

“She got a
good few, okay, although we’ll have to take Jack out.” Bull shoveled in another
mouthful. “But she’s having problems with some of the men.”

“Ah, the old
ones. They’re used to talking to a man.” Maeve said.

“The young
ones too, Mum.” Annie replied. “I’ve heard chat up lines today you wouldn’t
believe.”

“Do you come
here often?”

Her lips
softened into a smile at his comment. A wave of relief flooded him as the
tension between them eased.

“I heard it a
couple of times, along with ‘Heaven must be missing an angel…’”

“Because
you’re here with me, right now.” Their eyes met and her soft lips parted
slightly. If she responded like that every time, he couldn’t blame them.

“The problem
is they know you’re single,” Bull said. “That makes you easy game, especially
if you’re the matchmaker.”

“Maybe I’ll
have better luck tomorrow.” She stood up from the table and collected the
plates.

“Now.
Chocolate time?”

“Absolutely.”
Maeve cut some thin slices from an apple, and placed them on a plate. She
passed it to Bull who slipped a slice into his mouth and chewed vigorously.