Page 73 of Tempting Irish

Chapter 22

Bree

“Good morning.”Owen’s voice rasps in my ear, his hard body pressed against my back, sending a tremor straight to mycore.

My limbs are sluggish when I roll over in bed and see him leaning on an elbow, grinning down at me. Morning light filters through the floor to ceiling windows that look out on the rolling hills and dark loughbelow.

The sun’s rays slant across his features, making the gray of his eyes seem to swirl like silverlava.

Intense.

Mesmerizing.

Mine.

I groan inwardly at the thought, knowing how far from the truth itis.

“What are you doing?” I mumble, closing my eyes against the smirk he givesme.

“Watching yesleep.”

I cover my face with the sheet. “That’s weird. And I need a shower. Or, to at least brush myteeth.”

He chuckles, pulling the blanketdown.

“Ye’re beautiful.” He shifts, and rolls on top of me, spreading my thighs with his knee and pressing his heavy erection against my stomach. “What do ye want to dotoday?”

A murmur of pleasure vibrates in my throat, and I run my fingers through his hair. “Happy to stay righthere.”

He nuzzles my neck, inhaling deeply. “Sounds like a good plan. I do have a few people I need to meet with later today. Ye can come with me, if yewant.”

“I wouldn’t mind some time to walk around. See my oldhouse.”

He winces. “They tore it down a few years ago. Blackmold.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure why I’m surprised. The place was barely a shack. I spent more time at Agnus’ house than my own. But it just reminds me of how much things havechanged.

I run my fingers across the tattoos on his arm, some of the words written in Gaelic along his bicep. “What does thismean?”

He glances down at the ink, and his lips pull up. “Under the shelter of each other, peoplesurvive.”

I let the words sink in, but they’re so foreign to me, the whole concept of family and friends you can counton.

“How long are we staying here?” I ask, never wanting to leave, knowing going back to Dublin means facingreality.

I can’t stayhere.

“We need to be back in Dublin by Saturday for the wedding.” He kisses me once, then rolls out of bed, walking across the room without even a hint of modesty, then looks over his shoulder with a grin. “Yecoming?”

“Where?”

He smirks from the bathroom doorway. “Ye said ye needed a shower. And I’m looking forward to getting ye wet…” He winks. “Again.”

I chuckle, despite the ache that’s formed in mychest.

Just sex,I remind myself as I follow him in, stepping underneath the stream of warmwater.

But separating my heart from the pleasure isn’t just difficult. It’s damn nearimpossible.

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