Page 44 of Dublin Debacle

Emily frowned. She’d been self-sufficient for much of her life with a mother who had worked long hours and a grandmother who couldn’t do everything for her grandchildren. She’d been the one to make their lunches and help Finn with his homework. When Emily had gotten her driver’s license, it had been her responsibility to take him to and from school. “I like to think I could protect myself from an intruder.” She shook her head. “I’m not so sure now. There were three guys who attacked my uncle. I don’t even own a gun. I’m not sure you can own a gun in Ireland.”

“Just because someone stays with you, doesn’t mean you’ve failed at anything. It means there’s more safety in numbers.” He squeezed her hands gently. “I trained in hand-to-hand combat. I could be your first line of defense.”

She stared up into his incredibly blue eyes and gave him a crooked smile. “You’ve already done so much for me.”

“I’m here anyway. If you or your place is attacked, maybe I can stop whoever makes that attempt, and we can get to the bottom of who’s behind all the trouble.”

“How can I repay you?”

“You don’t. I expect nothing. I’ll even sleep on the floor in front of the door.”

“No way. You’ve already slept on the floor one night. I wouldn’t let you do that again. Not when there are three bedrooms in the flat.”

“So, you want me to stay?” he asked. “No pressure, if you don’t.”

“Yes, please,” she said softly. “Otherwise, I don’t think I’d sleep at all.”

He nodded, released her hands and stepped back. “Good. I probably would’ve slept on the landing outside your door whether you wanted me here or not. I don’t feel right leaving you alone. But if it’s all the same to you, I could sleep on the sofa in the living area, the better to hear if anyone tries to break in.”

She twisted her lips into a grimace. “The sofa’s all yours, although it might not be long enough.”

“I’ll make do.” He reached around her, closed the door and locked the deadbolt.

Emily walked past the sofa. “I’ll get a blanket and pillow. You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Although I have to warn you, there isn’t much. I eat most meals in the pub. I see no need to cook for only me. Therefore, I don’t stock the fridge. I do have some nice wine if you’d care to have a glass. It might help you come down off that adrenaline rush.”

“That would be nice,” he said with a smile, then glanced around. “Would it be too much to ask to use your shower? I don’t have extra clothing as all my things are at the hotel where I left my suitcase, but I would like to clean up.”

“Of course,” Emily said, her cheeks heating at the thought of a naked Jack in her shower. “The bathroom is in the hallway. There should be fresh towels in the cabinet. If you set your clothing outside the bathroom door, I can run them through the wash so you’ll have clean clothes by morning.”

“That would be amazing. Not that I want to cause you any more work after the night and day you’ve had.”

“It will be no problem,” she said.

“I’ll leave the door ajar to listen for anyone trying to get in,” he said.

“Okay,” Emily said as if a naked strange man in her bathroom was an everyday occurrence. She hurried into her father’s room to find something that might fit Jack.

The two men were both tall, but her father had been thicker around the middle and not nearly as broad-shouldered.

After digging through Seamus O’Brien’s closet and dresser, Emily found a pair of pajama bottoms with a drawstring he could use to tighten what might be loose around his middle. She found a plain white T-shirt in his underwear drawer and passed on actual briefs, confident no man borrowed another man’s underpants.

She shivered at the thought of Jack going commando under the pajama bottoms, even as she silently chastised herself for such shocking thoughts about the man who’d saved her life. He had done nothing to indicate he was even slightly interested in her. And why should she be interested in him?

Just because he had an amazing muscular physique, wicked smile and startling blue eyes that seemed to look right into her soul, that shouldn’t be enough to make her mind take it to a different level. Like imagining him naked in the shower and wondering what it would feel like to smooth soap over his back.

Oh, man, she must be so tired that she was hallucinating. Emily gathered the clothing, left her father’s room and carried the items to the bathroom door Jack had left ajar. Intent on leaving them on the floor just outside the door, she thought better of that and nudged the door a little wider to pass them through to the counter just inside.

The sound of water spraying and splashing captured her attention. Her gaze went to the shadowy figure moving behind the shower curtain, his arms raised to his head. Then they dropped, sliding down his body.

Emily sucked in a breath, any evidence of exhaustion flushed away on a rush of blood pumping swiftly through her veins. For a moment, she froze, unable to tear her gaze away from the man behind the curtain.

Then he bent, the water shut off, and Emily was still standing in the doorway with the clothes clutched to her breast when a hand swept the curtain aside.

Jack’s eyes widened. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.” He snagged the towel hanging on the rack beside the shower and wrapped it around his waist, covering his magnificence.

What else could she call it? It was long, thick and protruding as straight as an arrow, even as he draped the towel over himself.

Emily swept her tongue across her suddenly dry lips before she could make her mouth work. “I brought you,” she swallowed hard, dragging her gaze from that to his dancing eyes, “these,” she finished in a rush, slapped the clothes on the counter and darted into the hallway.

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