Wild Irish Dreamer (The Mystic Cove Series Book 8)

by Tricia O'Malley

  “What floor are you?” Liam asked as the doors opened.

  “Why do you need to know?” Fi parried.

  “So I can press the button?” Liam quirked an eyebrow at her and Fi rolled her eyes, reaching over to push the button for the eleventh floor. When Liam didn’t push a different button, she sighed.

  “Same floor?”

  “Correct. Imagine that,” Liam grinned, rocking back on his heels. “I’m sure Dylan’s arranged that for convenience. We’ll likely be having just about the same schedule each day.”

  “I’m sure,” Fi murmured, striding out of the elevator and into a long hallway in subdued greys with gentle lighting. “Have a good night then.”

  “Wait, I thought we had dinner,” Liam said from behind her.

  Fi turned. “Tonight?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Because I wanted to read over those contracts.”

  “You read them on the plane. I watched you.”

  “Maybe I want to read them again.”

  “It’s barely four in the afternoon. And everybody eats late in Spain. Say nine for dinner?”

  “Is this the dinner I owe you?”

  “Sure.” Liam smiled at her and warmth flooded her core.

  “Fine. I’ll see you in the lobby at nine.”

  “I’ll meet you at your door,” Liam countered. “What should I wear?”

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “It’s your dinner. You pick the restaurant.”

  “Jeans and a nice shirt should be fine. We’re going casual.”

  “Perfect by me. I’m sure you’ll have a great spot to wow me with.”

  “I’m just going off the taxi driver’s recommendation. It could be a food truck for all you know.”

  “I’ve had some of my best meals at food trucks.”

  “Damn it,” Fi laughed, and slid her key into the slot in the door, “so have I.”

  “See you later,” Liam called.

  Fi let the door click closed behind her. The room was lovely, though not very large, as to be expected with European hotels. But the bed looked comfortable, there was a lovely workstation for her by the window, and she had the added bonus of a lounge chair to relax in. After she freshened up in the bathroom, Fi dropped into the chair and slid the curtains open to look out over Barcelona. Below her, the city bustled with life, and Fi took a deep breath, happy to be back in the mix of work and city life.

  Checking her schedule, she emailed a confirmation for her meeting with Luis Dominado, the CEO of the shipping company hoping to contract with Dylan’s company, which was to happen at eleven the next morning. The most important part of her job was to make sure that any contracts Dylan ended up signing reflected not only the exact language, but also the exact interpretation – under any applicable laws – in both languages. In international deals, it could be tricky if contracts were signed that left the interpretations open or were not precisely translated. Her job was to make sure that everything was as clear as it could be for all parties involved.

  Pushing everything aside, Fi lost herself in her work, and several hours passed before she looked up at the clock.

  “Shite,” Fi said, realizing that she would need some time to shower and get ready. Pushing the papers aside, she dashed to her suitcase to unpack. Pulling out a simple black dress, she studied it for a moment and then put it aside. “Just friends, Fi.”

  The knock sounded on her door precisely at nine; Fi had to give the man credit for being prompt. Breathing out a sigh, she studied herself in the floor-length mirror by the door. A deep red shirt that twisted in a knot at her waist was paired with skinny jeans and gold sandals. She’d hung large gold hoops at her ears and dusted some tawny makeup across her eyes. All in all, she thought she looked nice, but not like she was trying too hard. Though why she even cared… Fi shook her head and grabbed her purse.

  “Wow, you look amazing,” Liam immediately commented, and Fi had to admit – so did he. In a pair of dark jeans and a fitted linen shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, he looked comfortable, confident, and every inch a man.

  “Thank you. You do as well. Though why it matters for a friendly dinner, I do not know,” Fi said, sticking her nose in the air a bit.

  “Friends can give each other compliments,” Liam reminded her as they walked to the elevator.

  “You’re absolutely right. I have no idea why I’m being a bitch. Must be that time of the month.” Fi smiled and then let out a laugh when Liam winced.

  “Um…”

  “What? Friends talk about that stuff. Right, buddy?”

  Fi laughed the whole way to the lobby.

  Chapter 25

  They went for tapas, as one does in Spain, and Fi was pleased she’d listened to the taxi driver’s recommendation. Instead of a fancy restaurant, they wandered down a curving alley that led them to a small restaurant with an arched doorway. The proprietor looked up, beaming his welcome, his smile widening when Fi greeted him in Spanish. Chattering away, he led them to the back, away from the bar where people could stand and eat their tapas, to a table tucked under a curved brick alcove.

  “I’m assuming you’ll be fine with staying in one spot? Or did you want to move to different restaurants for your tapas tonight?” Fi asked Liam, smiling as the owner handed her a small sheet of paper with the wine list and the day’s menu on it.

  “I’m fine with settling in here. It’s been a long few days and I’m more than happy to be relaxing in one spot with a lovely lass on my arm.” Liam grinned at her, and Fi almost fired back at him before she caught the twinkle in his eye.

  “This lovely lass is starving,” Fi said and looked at him over the sheet of paper in her hand. “Mind if I order for us?”

  “Be my guest.” Liam waved a hand at her and Fi turned to converse with the owner. They discussed several of the wines and picked some lovely dishes. As they chatted, Fi learned he’d started in the restaurant as a cook and had worked his way up to owning it through the years. Now his boy cooked in the kitchen and his wife ran the bar. Fi told him who had recommended the restaurant to her and promised to visit again before their stay was over. Pleased with her comments, the owner beamed and clapped his hands, shouting to his wife in rapid Spanish. The wife, a gently rounded woman with shining brown eyes and hair that curled softly around her shoulders, appeared at his side with a bottle of wine. Together, they made a big flourish of popping the cork and waiting for Fi’s approval before pouring them each a glass. Leaving the bottle, the owner smiled to them both before moving to greet new guests who had entered the restaurant.

  “He seems nice. Cheerful,” Liam commented.

  “He is. The woman is his wife; he used to be a line chef before working his way all the way up to being the owner. I like places like this, because they’ll be proud of their food. It might not always be the fanciest, but I suspect each dish will be made with love and the ingredients sourced with care.”

  “I love watching you when you talk to someone in a different language. Is that what drew you into doing translations?” Liam held his glass up, lightly touching the rim to hers, the light making the wine look molten in the glass.

  “Yes, partially, I suppose.” Fi leaned back and smiled her thanks when the first course, a plate of cut meat with a dish of olives, was brought to the table. She took a sip of her wine. Delicious, as expected – she so loved Spanish wines. “I view language as a bridge. We’re lucky to speak English, as it is a fairly common language around the world and you can often get by in other countries with it. But I love seeing people’s face light up when they know I can meet them on their level and communicate with them. It opens things up for me, and I’ve been able to learn more about the world because of that. For example, I doubt we would have found this restaurant if I hadn’t been able to speak to the taxi driver. Or a million other little tips I’ve been given through the years, or experiences I’ve been able to have because I can navigate my way through a different lan
guage.”

  “You love it then… the travel and the new experiences? You don’t want to settle down?” Liam asked, sampling a marinated olive.

  “I don’t know that I crave settling down in the same way most people do, I’ll be admitting that.” Fi pursed her lips and studied the plate of food before picking out a slice of meat.

  “How do you see most people wanting to settle down?”

  “Oh, well you know how it is – married, babies, house, a dog… those things.”

  “Do you view that as settling?”

  “I… well, hmm… I guess I’ve never put much thought into it, have I, now?” Fi chewed for a moment, enjoying the spicy flavors, and took a sip from her glass. The wine perfectly highlighted the meat, and she looked forward to the rest of their dishes. “I shouldn’t say that I think people who choose that path are settling, because that makes it sound like that way of life isn’t good enough. Or is less than what it could be. And that’s really not a fair thing to be thinking, especially as some of me own family are deeply happy with those choices. So, what I mean to be saying is that I don’t think people who choose that are settling as in accepting less than they should out of life. But I do mean settle in the actual literal sense. As in settled into a home and they’ll be staying put for a while.”

  Liam grinned at her across the table and Fi glared at him.

  “Sure and I know I’m rambling a bit, but I’m just teasing out the thought.”

  “I understand what you’re saying. You feel as though that particular lifestyle might feel confining to you.”

  “There! That’s a lovely way of putting it. Gracie and I always go back and forth on this. She’s as content as can be up in her cottage on the cliffs. Never wants for more and loves her life. Me? I’d be going mental, sure as the day is long. I get… restless, I suppose? I crave new adventures. I love traveling and seeing what’s over the next horizon.”

  “I can be understanding that. I’ve sailor’s blood in me, after all.” Liam grinned at her once more and Fi found herself smiling back at him. No matter what lay between them, she genuinely enjoyed Liam’s company.

  “What took you to the water then?”

  “Me own da was a fisherman. Right out of Kinsale. I grew up more comfortable on the water than on land. He worked for Flynn, did ye know?”

  “Did he now? I didn’t know that. My, we do have many overlapping connections, don’t we?” Fi said.

  She looked up when the owner arrived with the next course. This one was a lovely browned tortilla de patatas and Fi’s eyes lit up at the presentation. Making approving comments and noises over the dish, Fi turned her attention back to Liam once the owner had been roundly assured he had the best tortilla de patatas in all the land.

  “So it seems,” Liam said, picking up the thread of their conversation.

  “However, I wasn’t ever keen to be a commercial fisherman meself, so I took to university to see what else I could learn.”

  “Which is where you met Dylan?”

  “I met him after university. I got him out of a bit of trouble at a pub in Dubs and we formed a fast friendship after that. Turns out, our interests ran parallel.”

  “A bit of trouble? And what would that have been about?”

  Liam only smiled at her across the table before taking a bite of the tortilla. “This is delicious,” he said.

  Fi rolled her eyes. “Fine, you’ll protect your mates to the end. I get it. So, you hooked up with Dylan and he just hired you like that?”

  “Not too long after that. I’ve been working with him ever since. I was particularly pleased with some of his sailing charters and happy to be on the voyages. He was particularly pleased with my attention to detail and ability to manage others well. He trusts me, and I him.”

  “Sometimes working together can be a strain on a relationship. Have you found that to be true?”

  “Not thus far. So long as we’re being honest with each other. Honesty is never frowned upon in business, and Dylan and I are straight with each other. I may not always like what he has to say,” Liam said, and shrugged his wide shoulders, “but I appreciate an honest voice rather than one that is only looking out for his business.”

  “He doesn’t just put money first?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, the man likes to make money. And he’s damn good at it, lucky for me. But it isn’t his bottom line.”

  “How can it not be his bottom line? Doesn’t he want his business to be profitable?”

  “His businesses can be profitable and ethical at the same time. There’s no contradiction there, me lovely lass,” Liam said, trying it out again. He chuckled when Fi bared her teeth at him across the table.

  “It’s nice to hear good things about Dylan from someone besides Grace. From what I’ve Googled of him he seems to have a good reputation in business. But it’s also nice to be hearing it from someone close to him as well.”

  “And Gracie? She’s magick, no? Is that comfortable for you?”

  Fi opened her mouth and then closed it, shocked at his question. Nobody outside their circle had ever outright asked her a question like that, and now she found herself struggling with how to respond.

  Taking a moment, she picked up the wine bottle and poured them each another glass before looking out across the restaurant, which was now filling up. She had no idea how much Grace had told Dylan or Liam about her magick, though she knew that Grace had healed Liam after his mishap in the cove.

  “She’s a healer, yes,” Fi said, looking down at the tortilla and carefully cutting herself another bite. Putting the bite in her mouth, she savored the flavors and hoped Liam would move on.

  “So, you get to be grilling me on Dylan, but I’m not able to ask after Gracie?” Liam raised an eyebrow at Fi before taking a long sip of his wine. Over the speakers, a light dancy violin solo came on, threading its notes through the chatter of the people in the restaurant.

  “No, you can ask after her,” Fi said, looking away from Liam again as she considered her answer. She’d never had to speak with anyone about this and wasn’t entirely sure what was best.

  “I’ve made you uncomfortable,” Liam observed, leaning back in his chair to study her.

  Fi met his eyes and then looked away again. “I’m comfortable.”

  “And now she’s a liar?”

  “What makes you think I’m uncomfortable?” Fi parried.

  “I’m good at reading people. I study body language, facial expressions, and so on. Your energy went from bright and open to being totally closed off.”

  “She’s my best friend,” Fi said, taking another sip of her wine.

  “As Dylan is mine. I mean no disrespect to Grace. I owe her my life.” Liam reached across the table and ran a finger across the back of Fi’s hand, drawing her gaze to their hands and then up to his eyes. “I would never do anything to hurt her; I’m forever indebted to her. I would protect her with my life, as I would her secrets. You must be understanding that at the very least.”

  Fi blew out a breath and pulled her hand away from Liam’s. The closeness was making her feel all sorts of things, and the color of his aura was beginning to show around his shoulders. A nice healthy blue, she noted. Blue auras represented truthfulness to her. She typically found people with those auras to be leaders, creatives, and generally all-around solid people. Not to mention it matched the sea, Fi thought, then pulled herself away from thinking about his aura. It wasn’t something she liked to dwell on very often, but she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t trust what an aura showed her. “I guess it’s because I’ve never had a conversation with someone outside the circle about it.”

  “There’s a circle, is there?” Liam asked, leaning back as the proprietor came and cleaned plates, putting down a selection of fruits and cheeses for their next round. Fi chattered with him, hoping Liam would forget his question, but knowing instinctively he would not.

  “I just meant like our close circle of friends. Obviously Grace’s
friends and family are aware of her talents.”

  “I think it’s incredible. Doesn’t it just wow you?” Liam’s eyes lit up with excitement. “It’s the reason sailors look for mermaids and read old mythological lore. We go our whole lives hoping for a glimpse of something like this. To experience it firsthand? It was a true blessing, that it was. Like an angel herself, Gracie is.”

  “It’s tough to say where the energy comes from,” Fi agreed, careful with her words, “but I definitely believe there’s a spiritual element there.”

  “Are you Catholic?”

  Letting out a small breath, happy for the change of subject, Fi shrugged a shoulder. “Not really. It wasn’t something strongly reinforced in our home. Mum felt like we could make our own decisions about religion as we grew older. I never really took to it myself.”

  “I’m not fan of organized religion either. I think nature is religion enough, no?” Liam smiled at her and Fi found herself smiling back, drinking in his eyes.

  “A pagan, then, are you?”

  “I suppose I’d be something along that line. I believe in Mother Ocean and the rhythms of nature more than anything. Nature always finds a way.”

  “That it does,” Fi agreed. “Do you have much of a family, Liam?”

  “Sure and you don’t think I was a foundling, do you?” Liam chuckled and leaned back in his chair once more to study her. “I do at that. I’ve told you of my father, the fisherman. Mum was a schoolteacher, and a strict one. She had to be, with five boys underfoot.”

  “Five!” Fi almost choked on her sip of wine. “The poor woman.”

  “Aye, and she’s letting us know that every day of our lives. A good woman, she is. Kept us in line. My brothers and I are close, though we’re scattered about the globe.”

  “That’s nice. I always dreamed about having a brother or sister. Gracie was the closest to me like that. And Kira, though she was a bit younger.”