The soft light from a brass floor lamp created shadows that darkened his eyes and made them even more difficult to read. “And your answer was to have me sent up here to your room?”
“No, I’d already figured that one out. I knew I didn’t want you wandering around on your own and eliciting secrets about me from the staff.” Not to mention her cousin.
“You worked here yourself prior to becoming director of concierge services for all your family’s hotels.”
“Ah. You’ve been busy.”
“I have an able assistant.”
“I loved working here. I learned a lot. Ireland offers an incredible variety of opportunities-great restaurants, rich history, natural beauty.”
“So it does.”
“Most of what the staff could tell you about me is innocuous enough. I can speak a bit of Irish and have a fondness for Irish butter and fresh Irish seafood, especially mussels, and I love to walk.” She tidied up the deck, using both hands, which, she noticed, were trembling slightly. An annoyance, but she blamed her interrupted sleep, not the man across from her. “But I decided I didn’t want anyone telling you about my Grafton Street shopping sprees.”
As far as she could tell, Will didn’t respond to her attempt at humor or even notice it. “Has Norman Estabrook been to this hotel?”
“I met him here, actually. A year ago this past April.” She set the cards back on the table. Interrogation time. “He hired Simon Cahill as a consultant a few months later.”
Will laid his coat over the back of a chair. He looked every inch the British lord turned SAS officer and spy as his gaze held hers. “Perhaps you should tell me who you are.”
“You’re here. Obviously you already know.”
“Lizzie Rush, hotelier and-what else?”
“I haven’t had time for much else lately.”
“Why did you come to Dublin tonight?”
“Would you believe I got tired of walking the Beara Way and had a hankering for nice sheets?”
His outright smile caught her off guard. “No.”
“It’s my favorite of our hotels. It opened twenty years ago-over my father’s objections. He’s not much on Ireland, but my aunt and uncle fell in love with Dublin. I was ten years old, and I wanted to come here so bad.”
“Your father wouldn’t allow it?”
“I never told him how much I wanted it.” She spun over to a chest and pulled open a drawer. “My feet are cold,” she said, grabbing a pair of wool socks. “I arrived in Dublin this morning and checked in here before I went off on my adventure. I always stay in this room. Cute, isn’t it?”
“It’s lovely.” He obviously didn’t care one way or the other about her suite. “Did your father visit you during your posting here?”
“No, he did not,” she said, dropping onto a chair and slipping on her socks. It was an intimate thing to do in front of a man she’d known for mere hours, but cold feet were cold feet. “My father and I get along, in case you’re wondering. We just have different views on Ireland.”
“Lizzie…”
His sudden intensity mixed with the softness of his voice shot her up from her chair. This was not one of her Rush cousins. “I’m talking too much. You must be hell in an interrogation. You’re so smooth and-” She stopped herself. How many of his interrogation subjects would be affected by the concern in his voice, the drape of his sweater on his broad shoulders? “Never mind. I dozed off, and now I’m in one of those crazy half-awake, half-asleep states.”
“You’re not accustomed to the intensity of the fighting you did earlier tonight, and you’re jetlagged. Why did you fly from Boston?”
“I didn’t say I did.”
The slight smile again. “As I said, I have an able assistant.”
“Does that mean I really do have MI6 on my case?”
“You have a flare for dramatics as well as an active imagination.”
“It’s been that kind of year. Our main offices are in Boston. I spent a lot of time there growing up.” She didn’t go into more detail. “How’s Keira?”
“She’s safe in garda hands.”
“That’s good. I assume you wouldn’t be here otherwise. I wish I could have met her under better circumstances. What happened in the stone circle was…” Lizzie tried to find the right word and realized she couldn’t. “It was different.”
“Where did you learn defense tactics?”
She gave him a knowing smile. “I read the SAS handbook on self-defense.”
“You’ve been doing research of your own, I see.”
“You’re not denying you’re a British SAS officer?”
“Did Simon tell you about my background?”
He had her there. She’d given herself away. “I knew you and Simon were friends, and I’m a curious type-which is how I ended up in a knife fight in the Irish hills. What about you?”
“I was looking for Keira. Were you drawn to Estabrook because of his adventures? I gather you’re something of a daredevil yourself.”
“I wasn’t drawn to Norman at all. I just hung out with him and his friends on and off. Long weekends, vacations, when he was at one of our hotels.”
“You came a long way to find Simon.”
This time, she was ready for the dodging and darting of his questions. “I came a long way to hike the Beara Way. I’d heard Keira’s story about the stone angel and thought I might run into her and Simon.”
With a glimmer of a smile, Will moved close to her, just inches from her, and before she could catch her breath, he touched his fingertips to her hair. “You’re an adept fighter but not a particularly adept liar.”
“Not tonight, maybe. Ordinarily I’m a very adept liar.”
“You were concerned Estabrook would go free, and you arranged a cover story that would allow you to talk to Simon without his thinking you’d come to Ireland specifically for that reason.”
“ Norman ’s legal situation was added impetus for me to choose the Beara Peninsula for my hike.” She licked her lips, dry now, sensitive. “I’ve wanted to walk the Beara Way for some time.”
“You didn’t last long, did you?”
“A gale and a knife attack took all the fun out of my adventure.”
“You also started in the very village where you’d expected to find Simon. Do you always hike alone?”
Lizzie decided she was in over her head with this man and broke for the closet. She yanked open the door. “Call downstairs for whatever you need,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to reach up to the shelf. “Help yourself to the tub. The lavender bath salts here are my favorite. My aunt Henrietta and I picked them out together. I soaked for thirty minutes earlier tonight. Almost fell asleep and drowned myself.” But as she glanced back at him with a breezy smile, she realized she now had him picturing her in the tub.
Definitely in over her head.
She pulled a fluffy duvet and pillow down from the shelf. “You can have the bedroom. I’ll take the sofa. That way,” she said, carrying the bedding to the sofa, “I can hear you if you try to sneak out.”
“Lizzie.”
She unfurled the duvet. “If I’m wrong about you, I can defend myself. I don’t care if you’re SAS, MI6 or a bored British aristocrat.”
Will slipped an arm over her shoulders and turned her gently to him, surprising her. “You’re exactly what you seem to be, aren’t you?”
“And that would be?”
“A hotelier who’s more comfortable picking out bath salts and hiking the Beara Way than defending herself and a perfect stranger from a killer.”
“Maybe I’m comfortable with picking out bath salts and taking on killers.”
“I should have followed you from the pub. I could have spared you…” He seemed to shake off any regret. “Lizzie, you’re not a professional. Whatever you’re up to, you don’t have to go about it alone.”
He was good, she decided. Under the expensive clothes and polished manners, the upper-class bearing, were the quiet competence and self-assurance of a man who knew what he was doing-who, in fact, had real training and experience.