Cognac & Couture (The Passport Series Book 2) Read Free Page A

them about weddings and great-grandbabies.
    “He is a gammy piece of shite. But there’s nothing to stop
us from finding other forms of entertainment.” His voice sent a sublime ping
ricocheting through her body, as his Adam’s apple bobbed on his clean-shaven
throat. Her eyes were riveted there. She’d mused more than once, sometimes
while nibbling it, that there was something unusually sexy about his throat.
    Time had been very kind to Declan. Where he had once been a
tall, thin boy, his body had now thickened with muscle and was dangerously
delightful to touch. His dark hair was a little too long and had a tendency to
flop in his eyes when not gelled back. His mischievous brown eyes were parked
below slashing eyebrows that intimated a wide range of emotions. And then there
were his lips, which knew how to work all kinds of magic.
    “Well then, what do you have in mind?” she asked brazenly,
with the lift of an eyebrow, before taking a big gulp of her wine.
    Tilting his head at his glass, he thought for a moment then
suggested, “Well, at least one or two of these here, a bite to eat somewhere
else, then, perhaps a stroll through St. Stephens Green or some such. At some
point, we should have dinner at a nice restaurant and then make our way to
Camden Street, if you like, to see what the entertainment is. Then , I am
hoping to persuade you to join me at The Merrion for a night of debauchery.”
    “Sounds like you have considered a small range of
possibilities.” She endeavored to keep her tone light. Her inner turmoil was
great. Her yearly one-night—all right, two-night—stand with Declan had come to mean something to her. Did she dare hope he had feelings for her, ask him if he
wanted more? She was crap at the whole romance thing. Hoping her heart wasn’t
beaming out her eyes, she averted them by digging through her purse for her
sunglasses, “How about Il Primo? They have incredible food. I love the smoked
haddock and chive risotto.”
    “Sounds perfetto!”
    ***
    Many, many hours later, they counted
as they clutched the black iron railing attached to the brick façade of The
Merrion. “One, two, three, four, five! Well, I’ll be buggered. There’s only
five steps.” Wobbly, Declan glanced behind him at what had seemed a mountain of
stairs. Turning around slowly to prevent throwing himself off hard-won balance,
he saw the doorman offering a stabilizing hand to Marian as she tripped over
the carpet threshold. “Thank you,” Declan said with as much dignity as he could
muster in his drunken state.
    Trying not to offend the guests gathered in the lobby at 3:00
am, Marian and Declan weaved their way past the Drawing Room in all its
refinement and began climbing the curving stairway. Still clutching the
railing, with his hand resting on her lower back, he whispered far too loud,
“All right?”
    The insanity of it all washed over her, and she began to
laugh hard. He was the picture of dignified stoicism as she announced, “Stop
making me laugh or I’ll wee.”
    His response was, “ Shh ! We’ll be tossed out on the
pavement if you don’t stop being so vulgar!” His affected tone added to her
laughter. Declan waved to the doorman, who had been watching the goings on. He
immediately rushed up the few stairs the two had managed to climb.
    Staring at the brass nametag attached to the man’s lapel,
Declan’s vision cleared enough to read. “Ronan, help me out, will you, mate?
She’s completely ossified.”
    “Why’d you let her drink so much?” the doorman muttered
under his breath.
    Her head snapped up. “Ronan, is it? I’ll have you know I
drink how much I like. He didn’t let me do anything! I had the correct
amount to drink, I assure you. I’m not drunk—I’m happy!”
    He looked at Declan and shook his head. “Well, let’s get
your happy friend to the toilet, shall we, before we’ve all had it.”
    The trio walked with as much dignity as possible up the
stairway and down the hall,