good kisser.”
She paused for a moment, as if reconsidering her words. New color flushed her cheeks and she plucked at some imaginary thread on his tunic. “Actually, that’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. Not that I’ve had many.”
He grinned, greatly relieved and suddenly proud. “I am a man of many talents.”
“I bet you are.” She patted his chest, stepped out of his embrace and picked her uncle’s gift off the ground. “We better get inside before someone comes looking for us.”
She started toward the house then paused again. “Let’s just keep the kiss between us, okay? As far as my uncles go, we’re just friends.”
Her words pricked, but he understood. She thought her family would not find him a suitable mate for her. Just as well. He was a Phoenix, mate to no woman. But that truth did little to keep images of Dagny from sweeping through him, colder than the whistling wind.
“As you wish,” he said, working hard to keep his voice even. Grant her changes and be done. That was what he had come for and all he would do. With the taste of her still on his tongue, he followed her into the house.
“Calleigh, me love!” Uncle Corrigan threw his arms around her, lifting her feet off the ground in a crushing embrace.
“I can’t breathe,” Calleigh wheezed, happy Jeana was nowhere in sight.
“Corrigan, put the wee lass down before ye flatten her.” His wife, Moreen, cuffed his shoulder.
He set Calleigh’s feet back on the floor and she inhaled deeply before speaking. “Thank you, Aunt Moreen. Your husband doesn’t know his own strength.”
“Sorry, love.” Corrigan grinned at her, his brown eyes sparkling.
The door shut and Moreen tugged at her sleeve. “Aren’t ye forgetting something, dear?” Her aunt’s eyes lit up, a mix of delight and curiosity glittering in their mossy depths. With her fading titian curls and rectangular wire rimmed glasses, she could have passed for a young Mrs. Claus.
“Uncle Seamus’s present is right here.” Calleigh brushed a bit of dirt off one corner before offering the package to her aunt. There was no getting out of explaining the guest she’d brought, but it was worth a try.
Aunt Moreen crossed her arms and pursed her rose-painted lips. “Well then, that’s not what I’m talking about, cheeky girl. There’s a man standing behind ye, and he isn’t yer fiancé. Not by a long haul. Care to do some explainin’? Or at least some introducin’? Or have ye lost yer manners altogether?”
“Oh. Yeah.” She smiled sheepishly as she glanced over her shoulder at the Viking. He was so not Brad. The difference was as obvious as a showgirl in a gospel choir. Her mouth still burned with Alrik’s fiery kiss and her knees weakened at the memory of what had just occurred in the driveway.
“Uncle Corrigan, Aunt Moreen, this is a…friend of mine, Alrik. Brad and I are…on hiatus.”
Her uncle’s wooly brows shot up in surprise. “Hiatus? Hmph. Now there’s a non-answer if I ever heard one, but I’m not complainin’.”
“I’ll explain later. Please,” Calleigh said, twisting her hands.
“Alrik, is it? Welcome.” With a wary eye, her uncle extended his hand and Alrik shook it.
“Thank you, sir.”
“No sirs in this house, lad. Words mean little compared to deeds. Corrigan will do just fine.”
Alrik nodded. Calleigh and Moreen rolled their eyes in unison.
Moreen cuffed her husband’s shoulder for the second time. “Corrigan, let the lad be. My, my, ye are a bit of all right, aren’t ye? Any friend of Calleigh’s is a friend of ours.” In the true spirit of Irish hospitality her aunt did to Alrik what she did to every guest that entered her home. She hugged him.
Calleigh bit her tongue to keep from laughing at the expression on his face. He definitely hadn’t been expecting that. To his credit, he hugged back.
Hoping to stave off further questions, she asked one of her own. “Where’s Uncle Seamus?”
“Himself is in the
She paused for a moment, as if reconsidering her words. New color flushed her cheeks and she plucked at some imaginary thread on his tunic. “Actually, that’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. Not that I’ve had many.”
He grinned, greatly relieved and suddenly proud. “I am a man of many talents.”
“I bet you are.” She patted his chest, stepped out of his embrace and picked her uncle’s gift off the ground. “We better get inside before someone comes looking for us.”
She started toward the house then paused again. “Let’s just keep the kiss between us, okay? As far as my uncles go, we’re just friends.”
Her words pricked, but he understood. She thought her family would not find him a suitable mate for her. Just as well. He was a Phoenix, mate to no woman. But that truth did little to keep images of Dagny from sweeping through him, colder than the whistling wind.
“As you wish,” he said, working hard to keep his voice even. Grant her changes and be done. That was what he had come for and all he would do. With the taste of her still on his tongue, he followed her into the house.
“Calleigh, me love!” Uncle Corrigan threw his arms around her, lifting her feet off the ground in a crushing embrace.
“I can’t breathe,” Calleigh wheezed, happy Jeana was nowhere in sight.
“Corrigan, put the wee lass down before ye flatten her.” His wife, Moreen, cuffed his shoulder.
He set Calleigh’s feet back on the floor and she inhaled deeply before speaking. “Thank you, Aunt Moreen. Your husband doesn’t know his own strength.”
“Sorry, love.” Corrigan grinned at her, his brown eyes sparkling.
The door shut and Moreen tugged at her sleeve. “Aren’t ye forgetting something, dear?” Her aunt’s eyes lit up, a mix of delight and curiosity glittering in their mossy depths. With her fading titian curls and rectangular wire rimmed glasses, she could have passed for a young Mrs. Claus.
“Uncle Seamus’s present is right here.” Calleigh brushed a bit of dirt off one corner before offering the package to her aunt. There was no getting out of explaining the guest she’d brought, but it was worth a try.
Aunt Moreen crossed her arms and pursed her rose-painted lips. “Well then, that’s not what I’m talking about, cheeky girl. There’s a man standing behind ye, and he isn’t yer fiancé. Not by a long haul. Care to do some explainin’? Or at least some introducin’? Or have ye lost yer manners altogether?”
“Oh. Yeah.” She smiled sheepishly as she glanced over her shoulder at the Viking. He was so not Brad. The difference was as obvious as a showgirl in a gospel choir. Her mouth still burned with Alrik’s fiery kiss and her knees weakened at the memory of what had just occurred in the driveway.
“Uncle Corrigan, Aunt Moreen, this is a…friend of mine, Alrik. Brad and I are…on hiatus.”
Her uncle’s wooly brows shot up in surprise. “Hiatus? Hmph. Now there’s a non-answer if I ever heard one, but I’m not complainin’.”
“I’ll explain later. Please,” Calleigh said, twisting her hands.
“Alrik, is it? Welcome.” With a wary eye, her uncle extended his hand and Alrik shook it.
“Thank you, sir.”
“No sirs in this house, lad. Words mean little compared to deeds. Corrigan will do just fine.”
Alrik nodded. Calleigh and Moreen rolled their eyes in unison.
Moreen cuffed her husband’s shoulder for the second time. “Corrigan, let the lad be. My, my, ye are a bit of all right, aren’t ye? Any friend of Calleigh’s is a friend of ours.” In the true spirit of Irish hospitality her aunt did to Alrik what she did to every guest that entered her home. She hugged him.
Calleigh bit her tongue to keep from laughing at the expression on his face. He definitely hadn’t been expecting that. To his credit, he hugged back.
Hoping to stave off further questions, she asked one of her own. “Where’s Uncle Seamus?”
“Himself is in the
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