Free Born In Ice by Nora Roberts

much as it concealed.

    Still, Brianna told herself, it suited a dinner out, and that it was a sin she'd yet to wear it when Maggie had gone to the trouble and expense. And it felt so lovely against her skin.

    Annoyed at the continued flutter of nerves, she picked up her coat, a plain black with a mended lining, and draped it over her arm. It was simply the offer of a meal, she reminded herself. A nice gesture from a man she'd been feeding for more than a week.

    Taking one last steadying breath, she stepped out of her room into the kitchen, then started down the hall. He'd just come down the stairs. Self-conscious, she paused.

    He stopped where he was, one foot still on the bottom step, his hand on the newel post. For a moment they only stared at each other in one of those odd, sliding instants of awareness. Then he stepped forward and the sensation rippled away.

    "Well, well." His lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile. "You make a picture, Brianna."

    "You're wearing a suit." And looked gorgeous in it.

    "I drag one on now and again." He took her coat, slipped it over her shoulders.

    "You never said where we were going."

    "To eat." He put an arm around her waist and swept her out of the house.

    The interior of the car made her sigh. It smelled of leather, and the leather was soft as butter. She skimmed her fingers over the seat as he drove.

    "It was kind of you to do this, Gray."

    "Kindness had nothing to do with it. I had an urge to go out, and I wanted you with me. You never come into the pub at night."

    She relaxed a little. So that's where they were going. "I haven't lately. I do like stopping in now and then, seeing everyone. The O'Malleys had another grandchild this week."

    "I know. I was treated to a pint to celebrate."

    "I just finished a bunting for the baby. I should have brought it with me."

    "We're not going to the pub. What's a bunting?"

    "It's a kind of sacque; you button the baby into it." As they passed through the village she smiled. "Look, there's Mr. and Mrs. Conroy. More than fifty years married, and they still hold hands. You should see them dance."

    "That's what I was told about you." He glanced at her. "You won contests."

    "When I was a girl." She shrugged it off. Regrets were a foolish indulgence. "I was never serious about it. It was just for fun."

    "What do you do for fun now?"

    "Oh, this and that. You drive well for a Yank." At his bland look, she chuckled. "What I mean is that a lot of your people have some trouble adjusting to our roads and driving on the proper side."

    "We won't debate which is the proper side, but I've spent a lot of time in Europe."

    "You don't have an accent I can place-I mean other than American. I've made kind of a game out of it, you see, from guessing with my guests."

    "It might be because I'm not from anywhere."

    "Everyone's from somewhere."

    "No, they're not. There are more nomads in the world than you might think."

    "So, you're claiming to be a gypsy." She pushed her hair back and studied his profile. "Well, that's one I didn't think of."

    "Meaning?"

    "The night you came. I thought you looked a bit like a pirate-then a poet, even a boxer, but not a gypsy. But that suits, too."

    "And you looked like a vision-billowing white gown, tumbled hair, courage and fear warring in your eyes."

    "I wasn't afraid." She glimpsed the sign just before he turned off the road. "Here? Drumoland Castle? But we can't."

    "Why not? I'm told the cuisine's exquisite."

    "Sure and it is, and very dear."

    He laughed, slowing to enjoy the view of the castle, gray and glorious on the slope of the hill, glinting under lights. "Brianna, I'm a very well paid gypsy. Stunning, isn't it?"

    "Yes. And the gardens... you can't see them well now, and the winter's been so harsh, but they've the most beautiful gardens." She looked over the slope of lawn to a bed of dormant rosebushes. "In the back is a walled garden. It's so lovely it doesn't seem real. Why didn't you stay at a