Page 9 of Tempting Irish
Chapter 2
Bree
Owen Gallagher is standing –no,hovering- above me with a giant smirk plastered across his handsome face. He radiates with sexual confidence, and I know exactly what he wants – aconquest.
Desire gleams in his eyes, ripples through his words, and the cocky arrogance he emits lets me know he’s used to getting hisway.
The way his stormy eyes roam down and back up my body fills my core with a warmth I haven’t felt in a long time,or ever. But it also makes me wonder if he doesn’t recognize me, because if he did, I doubt he’d dare look at me the way he isnow.
Or be offering me hisbed.
“Excuseme?”
He leans forward, his gray eyes searching mine, and I see the twinkle of humor in them. “I won’t be sharing it with ye if that’s what ye’re worriedabout.”
“Sha-sharing?” I sound like a stuttering, star-struck idiot, which by his amused gaze, I’m sure he’s usedto.
Of course, he is. He’sOwen freakingGallagher.
“The bed.” His head angles as his gaze seems to swallow mewhole.
“Oh.” Even I hear the edge of disappointment in the word, and more heat creeps into mycheeks.
He laughs, a melodic sound that seems to rumble inside me, going straight to mycore.
“Unless, of course, ye want me to.” One dark eyebrow cocksup.
“No,” the word comes out forced, and I have to take in a deep breath to try and steady my wildly beating heart –and imagination. “I mean. I-I don’t want toimpose.”
“No imposition.” His gaze holds mine, and there’s a challenge in hiseyes.
I breathe out heavily and nervously tuck the damp hair that’s fallen across my cheek back behind my ear, my head still spinning at seeing him.Here. Now. As coincidental as it seems, it’s not. I knew he was staying in this hotel. Planned to be here to finally face him and my cousins. I just didn’t expect to be standing in the foyer of the hotel, with a slightly intoxicated Owen offering to take me up to hisroom.
A bed. That’s all he’s offering, I remind myself. Yeah, right. Even I’m not thatnaive.
I should tell him who I am, before things get awkward.Before…
“Come on,” he says. “I’m freezing my ass off, and ye look like ye could use a hotshower.”
The thought of him naked and wet sends all kinds of dirty thoughts racing through my mind. He must be able to read every single one of them in my expression, because his smirk only broadens and he lets out a low chuckle deep in histhroat.
I should sayno.
There’s still a part of me that’s angry at him for breaking the only promise he ever made to me. And then, there’s also the problem that I’m now ninety-nine-percent certain he has no clue who I am. Which is another blow to myego.
I may have only been twelve the last time he saw me, but we’d been close. Or, at least, my pre-adolescent mind thought wehad.
“I think I’ll just stay here.” I glance over at the lounge with its stiff leather chairs andwince.
“Are ye scared of me?” He takes a step closer, forcing me to lookup.
My heart beats wildly, fluttering like a cagedbird.
“No. Of course not.”Liar, my brain screams. I swallow past the enormous lump that’s lodged itself in my throat. “I just don’t make it a habit of going to random men’s hotelrooms.”
“And I don’t make it a habit of invitingstrangewomen to mine,” he says with agrin.
“I doubtthat.”
