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good flight?”
    My toes curl from the impact of that beautiful smile and the undisputed warmth in his voice.
    “Uneventful,” I manage to murmur.
    “ Ms. Lynch , eh?” Connor snorts gruffly.
    My gaze drags from Roman to see Connor push up from a chair beside the fireplace and make his way over.
    “The only good thing about this blasted winter is that night comes early,” he says, hitching a shaggy brow on me. “So what’s your preference, my dear? Wine or something a wee bit stronger?”
    “Oh… I, um…” But the only reason I’m hesitating is because Roman doesn’t have a glass. “White wine would be lovely, thank you.”
    Connor links his arm in mine, walking me to the drinks cabinet built into the panelled wall on the other side of the room.
    “You’ll be forgiving my lad over there,” he says, not nearly soft enough for Roman not to hear. “He has a way of acting closer to my age than yours.”
    Unable to resist, I lean in to whisper, “How old is he?”
    “Twenty-six in January.”
    My eyes round in disbelief. How on earth does one pack that much arrogance and confidence, tinted cynicism, into twenty-six years?
    Connor chortles. “Aye, exactly that.”
    As the evening progresses, however, there’s little evidence of that arrogance or cynicism. Roman doesn’t say much. He seems content to let Connor and Liam dominate the conversation at the supper table.
    Liam comes from a large family and is the youngest of six siblings. He’s never short of tales to tell and soon has Connor guffawing at some of the hair-brained schemes that colour his younger days.
    Roman’s gaze touches me again and again and his gorgeous mouth curves into a smile every so often.
    His subdued mood and sensual charm filters into me, a slow burn that turns my blood languid and melts the edges off the anxious sexual tension that has been building for weeks.
    I’m not sure what to do with this new version of Roman Rocchi, but I like it. I like it a lot.
    “My Jeanie would have loved that,” Connor says at the end of one of Liam’s stories, chuckling. “Always did want to fill this house with young ‘uns, never mind the antics and what all.”
    “Jeanie?” I ask him. “Your wife?”
    Connor nods, his chuckles sobering as his gaze settles on Roman. “We lost her six years ago now to cancer.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “Aye, she was a special lady, that she was.” A shadow crosses Connor’s face, then it passes and he moves the conversation on.
    But I’m stuck on that look shared between Connor and Roman. And what he’d said. We lost her… There’s absolutely no resemblance between the two men, but I suppose that doesn’t mean they can’t be related.
    I’m intrigued.
    Everything about Roman intrigues me.
    The question sits on the tip of my tongue, but I’ll never ask. Even with the way this evening is going, the idea of me and Roman ever being that comfortable is preposterous.
    And yet again, he surprises me with the overwhelming unexpected
    We’ve withdrawn to the library after dinner, where Roman pours himself his first drink of the night. A Kleighnorm labelled single malt whiskey.
    While Liam and Connor set up a chessboard, I amble across to the double set of French doors leading onto a small portico. The curtains are partially parted on one side and I see the sky has cleared into a million glittering stars.
    Roman comes up behind me, reaching around to unlatch and push the door open. “After you, Ms. Lynch.”
    The heat of his body folded around my back shimmers over my skin and sends me skittering forward into the blackened night. The air outside is frigid, until Roman flicks a switch and the soft glow of infrared heating bulbs wrap us.
    The door clicks closed and when I turn, I catch Liam shooting me a quizzical look over the chessboard. I shrug and step out of sight behind a curtain.
    Roman leans back against the wrought-iron railing in front of me, the crystal glass cradled in both hands, his hooded