ambitious for you? Scarlet canât cook,â she added in a confidential aside to Roman. âBut she can eat for England and never put on an ounce. Me, I put on a pound if I so much as look at a grain of rice.â She shook her head at the injustice of it.
âThereâs nothing wrong with womanly curves.â
âThatâs what my Bob says.â
Scarlet, who couldnât believe that any woman could fall for such a corny line, stared at her friendâher old-enough-to-know-better friendâwho was visibly preening.
Roman, head tilted to one side, considered the older woman, a smile playing about his fascinating mouth. âIs that a Donegal accent Iâm hearing?â
Angie laughed. âNot many people here can tell the difference.â
Without any apparent effort, he slipped into a wildly attractive soft brogue. âIâm a Kerry man myself, on my daâs side anyhow.â
âI have to tell you, Mr OâHagan,â Angie gushed, âthose photos in Scarletâs magazine didnât do you justice.â She turned to her friend for support. âDid they, Scarlet?â
âAngie, I think it might be an idea if you got back to the story.â Scarlet gave a significant nod towards the children. They were growing restive.
God bless restive children.
To her immense relief the distraction worked.
âTimothy Jones, donât pull Bethanyâs hair!â Angie exclaimed, wading in to calmly separate two small figures.
âShe pulled mine.â
âAngie, if I could just see Sam for a minute.â
âSure thing, you go with your mum, Sam. Now, children, say goodbye to Mr OâHagan and thank him for this lovely present. My, isnât he just gorgeous?â she exclaimed.
Scarlet was pretty certain she wasnât talking about the stuffed toy; she certainly wasnât looking at it.
Roman had a choice; he could tell the eager faces that the toy wasnât for them or he could hand it over. He handed it over.
Scarlet hid a smile as she tucked Samâs hand in her own.
âDonât worry, Sam knows about sharing, donât you, sweetheart?â
Sam, who was looking with saucer-like eyes up at the tall man standing beside his mother, didnât reply.
âHowever, he doesnât always like it,â she admitted drily. âSay hello to Mr OâHagan, Sam. Heâs not normally so tongue-tied,â she added, bending down to speak in her sonâs ear. âSay hello to Mr OâHagan, darling.â
âHello,â Sam grunted, looking at his toes.
Scarlet gave an affectionate sigh and ruffled his dark hair before standing up.
âHello there, Sam.â
Scarlet happened to be looking at Roman OâHagan at the moment Sam lifted his headâ so nothing unusual there âbut what she saw was unusual. Unusual and inexplicable. At least as far as she could see there was no immediately obvious reason why the colour would seep out of Romanâs face until his vibrant golden skin looked like marble. He stilled, the nerve that throbbed in the hollow of his lean cheek about the only movement in his body. There was no evidence that he was breathing until a deep, soundless sigh shuddered through his body, lifting his ribcage.
As she watched he dropped casually down on his haunches. âHello, Sam. Iâm Roman.â
He sounded so normal and his whole body language was so relaxed that Scarlet wondered if she had imagined what had gone before.
âDo you like teddy bears, Sam?â Roman ran his hand over the little boyâs dark head.
âTheyâre all right, but Iâm a big boyâI prefer footballs.â
âIâll remember that,â Roman promised.
âIâm going to be a footballer when I grow up.â
Roman made the appropriate impressed noises.
âAre you Mummyâs friend?â she was deeply embarrassed to hear Sam ask.
Roman lifted his head; his eyes,