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spending so much time at close quarters with her. As she fiddled with the door key, he caught her distinctive scent. The smell of the shampoo had faded, leaving pure woman. He filled his lungs with it. He had no idea why women insisted on paying a fortune for all sorts of fake perfumes, when they already possessed the most enticing smell in the world.
    He grinned. Well, second most enticing smell.
    She turned and caught his expression. ‘What are you laughing at?’
    ‘Just thinking about smells I love.’
    He held the door open for her. She headed straight for the kitchen and rooted in one of the cupboards. With a shrug, she took out two water tumblers and the bottle ofBushmills. ‘Hmmm, I love the smell of the sea. And cut grass.’
    ‘Everyone loves those. What about ones that are personal to you?’ He sprawled out on the sofa and watched her splash whiskey over ice-cubes before she handed him a glass.
    Sinead took a sip of her drink and considered. ‘The smell of boxty cooking. Granny O’Sullivan used to make it.’
    ‘What about bread baking? Did your mother bake?’
    Her expression clouded and she shook her head. ‘I don’t remember.’
    Interesting. Reference to her mother closed her down. ‘Let’s see. I love steak of course. And the smell of onions frying. And bacon!’ He smacked his lips.
    ‘Saturated fat!’ But she was interested again. ‘Have you any idea of the dangers of processed meat?’
    Niall patted his stomach, still flat, thanks to a punishing workout routine. One thing about the Rangers, they didn’t take on weaklings or let them get lazy. He had been at 5 per cent body fat when he left the wing. Even now, he was around 7 per cent and planning to stay there. ‘I think I can handle the odd slice. So what smells do you love?’
    ‘Eyelash glue.’
    Niall sat up straight. She couldn’t possibly need eyelash glue with those lashes. They were already longer than most fakes. But she went on before he could demand details.
    ‘Saddle soap. And newborn babies.’
    He wasn’t going to touch that one. He had a fleeting vision of Sinead holding a red-haired baby and foundhimself becoming strangely intrigued. Not somewhere he wanted to go. She’d probably put the baby on a timetable. ‘You have a thing for horses?’ he asked instead.
    ‘There was a really cute stable boy who used to clean the tack for the O’Sullivans,’ she said with a sly, unexpected grin. Then she sobered. ‘Not that he had eyes for anyone except Summer.’ She was matter-of-fact about it, as if being ignored in favour of her cousin was something that happened a lot.
    She topped up their drinks. Funny, he had no memory of emptying his glass. ‘So what is your favourite smell?’
    He leaned back on the sofa, stretching out so that his foot touched hers. ‘Fresh pussy juice, of course.’
    She choked on the sip of Bush and coughed so hard Niall got up to thump her on the back. Eventually she caught her breath and pulled away, glaring at him.
    ‘And this is why I’m still single,’ she told him.
    She clambered to her feet, slightly unsteady after the whiskey and headed for the bathroom. ‘I’m going to bed. You can stay up if you like but this apartment building has a late noise rule, so don’t put on loud music or make a racket. In fact, it would be better if you didn’t shower until morning.’
    She closed the door in his face, and, a few minutes later, he heard her brushing her teeth.
    With a sigh, he went into the tiny spare room. The bed was going to be grossly uncomfortable for a man of his height.
    He’d had a couple of hours’ sleep when he was woken by noises from Sinead’s room. Not bothering to put anything on over his boxer shorts, he hurried into her room,but came to an abrupt halt when he saw that she was still asleep.
    She twisted in the bed, her limbs caught up in rumpled bedclothes. She slept in panties and a short camisole that looked damp. ‘No,’ she murmured. ‘Please, don’t go.’ Her