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than that.”
    Matthew gave her a consoling look. “Don’t feel bad. We’ve all been taken in by Gram a time or two.”
    This time, though, he was going to owe his grandmother big-time for accomplishing what no one else had been able to. She’d broken the impasse between him and Laila. Now it was up to him to make sure the détente turned into something that would last.

3
     
    L aila arrived in Dublin with the first wave of O’Briens. The rest—Thomas and Connie, Jake and Bree, Connor and Heather, Kevin and Shanna—weren’t arriving for a few more days. There were so many of them that Mick had chartered a bus to take them to the hotel after the overnight flight.
    Somehow Laila had ended up seated next to Matthew, who turned out to be a surprisingly adept tour guide. He pointed out all the sights and offered one amusing anecdote after another as they rode toward St. Stephen’s Green and their hotel in the heart of downtown Dublin.
    When she managed to tear her gaze away from the ornate, colorful doorways decorated with lush holly wreaths and the window boxes overflowing with ivy, evergreens and bright flowers, she turned to find him regarding her with amusement.
    “What?” she demanded.
    “You’re as excited as a kid on Christmas morning.”
    “You’ve been here before. I haven’t. It’s everything I imagined it would be.”
    He smiled at that. “Glad you came?”
    She ignored the last of her reservations about being here in such close proximity to him. “Very glad,” she said, unable to tear her gaze away from his.
    He attempted a frown. “Now, don’t be looking at me like that, with your eyes all sparkly and dreamy.”
    She nearly laughed at his suddenly solemn expression. “Why is that?”
    “You’ll be giving me ideas, and I’ve made a promise to you to keep my hands to myself. It’s nearly impossible when you look at me like that. I’m a mere mortal, and no mortal man can be ignoring the invitation I’m seeing in your eyes.”
    For a moment Laila had forgotten all about the promise, all about her own resolve to make this trip about Nell’s happiness and Susie’s, about sightseeing and enjoying a new holiday experience, and not about Matthew and her thoroughly confusing feelings about him. Now all of that ripped through her, leaving her with a whole passel of conflicting emotions.
    “Good point,” she replied, trying to match his solemn tone. “I’ll have to watch myself.” She quickly looked out the window again. “Now, where are we exactly?”
    Matthew leaned closer to peer out the window, deliberately crowding her, if she wasn’t mistaken. He grinned when she scowled at him.
    “Lost my head,” he claimed, moving back before pointing out various highlights of the shopping along Grafton Street.
    At the hotel, rooms were quickly assigned, luggage deposited. Left alone, Laila gazed with regret at the huge comfortable bed and its fluffy down comforter. It was going to be very lonely, especially knowing that she could have been sharing it with Matthew.
    When there was a tap on the door, she threw it open, relieved to have her train of thought interrupted. Unfortunately, though, it was Matthew himself in the hallway.
    “I thought you might be too excited to be taking a nap,” he said. “How about breakfast and then a walk through the neighborhood? Who knows when the sun will be shining brightly like this again? We should take advantage of it, and that should tire you out so you can catch a couple of hours of sleep before the family festivities get into full swing late this afternoon. Uncle Mick’s taken over an entire pub for tonight, I think. He believes we should start as we intend to finish—with Irish music, a hearty meal and a few pints of Guinness.”
    Laila hesitated, then shrugged. She knew sleep was out of the question, and Matthew’s company on a busy street was no more dangerous than lying alone in that decadent bed thinking about him and wishing he were there with