Seduced By The Boss. Natalie Anderson

      “True.” He nodded. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

      “Good. But you’ve yet to tell me what kind of changes you’re talking about.” She met his gaze. “You said only that you were going to ‘reimagine’ things. Which could mean anything at all. What exactly are you planning?”

      “Nothing structural,” he told her. “We like the look of Castle Butler—that’s why we bought it. But there will be plenty of changes made to the interior.”

      She sighed, set her fork down and admitted, “To be honest, that’s what I’m worried about.”

      “In what way?”

      “Will I be seeing zombies in the hallways?” she asked. “Cobwebs strung across the stone?”

      She looked so worried about that possibility, Brady grinned. “Tempting, but no. We’ll go into all the details starting tomorrow, but I’ll say tonight I think you’ll like what we’ve got in mind.”

      Folding her hands on the table, she looked at him and said, “I’ve worked at Castle Butler since I was sixteen and went into the kitchens. I worked my way up from there, becoming first a maid, then moving on through reception and finally into managing the castle.

      “I know every board that creaks, every draft that blows through broken mortar. I know every wall that needs painting and every tree in the garden that needs trimming.” She paused, took a breath and continued before he could speak, “Everyone who works in the castle is a friend to me, or family. The village depends on the hotel for its livelihood and their worries are mine, as well. So,” she said softly, “when you speak of reimagining the castle, know that for me, it’s not about games.”

      Brady could see that. Her forest green eyes met his, and he read the stubborn strength in them that foretold all kinds of interesting battles ahead.

      Damned if he wasn’t looking forward to them.

       Three

      By the following day, Aine was sure she’d stepped in it with Brady at dinner. She’d had such plans to mind her temper and her words and hadn’t she thrown all those plans to the wind the moment he mentioned “substantial changes”?

      She sipped room-service tea and watched the play of sunlight on the water from her balcony. The tea was a misery, and why was it, she wondered, that Americans couldn’t brew a decent cup of tea? But the view was breathtaking—the water sapphire blue, crested with whitecaps, and in the distance, a boat with a bright red sail skimmed that frothy surface.

      She only wished the vista was enough to clear her mind of the mistakes made the night before. But as her father used to say, she’d already walked that path—it was useless to regret the footprints left behind.

      So she would do better today. She’d meet Brady Finn’s partners and be the very essence of professionalism...

      Not two hours later, she felt her personal vow to maintain a quiet, dignified presence shatter like glass.

      “You can’t mean it.”

      Aine had remained silent during most of this meeting with all three partners of Celtic Knot Games. She’d listened as they’d tossed ideas back and forth, almost as if they’d forgotten her presence entirely. She’d bitten her tongue so many times, that particular organ felt swollen in her mouth. And yet, there came a time when a woman could be silent no longer and Aine had just reached it. Looking from one man to the other, she focused on Sean Ryan since he seemed to be the most reasonable.

      “You’re talking about turning a dignified piece of Irish history into a mockery of itself,” she said bluntly.

      Before Sean could speak, his brother said, “I understand you feel a little protective of the castle, but—”

      “Protective, yes, but it’s more than that,” she argued, shifting her gaze from one to the other of the three men, ending finally by meeting Brady’s gaze. “There’s tradition. There’s the centuries etched into every stone.”

      “It’s a building,” Brady said. “One that you yourself have already agreed needs remodeling.”

      “To that, yes, I do agree,” she said quickly, leaning toward him a bit to emphasize what she wanted to say. “And I’m pleased to hear you’re going to make some long-needed repairs to the castle. I’ve some ideas for changes that would enhance our guests’ experiences even while keeping the building’s, for lack of a better word, soul intact.”

      Amused, Brady asked, “You believe the castle has a soul?”

      She looked almost affronted. “It’s been standing since 1430,” she reminded him, so focused on Brady alone that the other men in the room might not have been there at all. “People have come and gone, but the castle remains. It’s stood against invaders, neglect and indifference. It’s housed kings and peasants and everything in between. Why wouldn’t it have a soul?”

      “That’s very...Irish of you to think so.”

      She didn’t care for the patronizing smile he offered her. “As you’re Irish yourself, you should agree.”

      Brady’s features froze over. It was as if she’d doused him with a bucket of ice water. Aine didn’t know what it was about her simple statement that had turned him to stone, but clearly, she’d hit a very sore spot.

      “Only my name is Irish,” he said shortly.

      “An intriguing statement,” she answered, never moving her gaze from his.

      “I’m not trying to intrigue you,” he pointed out. “I’m saying that if you’re looking for a kindred spirit in this, it’s not me.”

      “Okay,” Sean said, voice overly cheerful. “So we’re all Irish here—some of us more than others. Let’s move on, huh?”

      Aine stiffened, didn’t so much as acknowledge Sean’s attempt to lighten the mood. “I’m not looking for a friend or a confidante or a kindred spirit, as you say,” she said and every word was measured, careful, as she deliberately tried to hold on to a temper that was nearly choking her. “I’ve come thousands of miles at your direction to discuss the future of Castle Butler. I can give you information on the building, the village it supports and the country it resides in. All of which you might have found out for yourself had you bothered to once visit the property in person.”

      Silence hummed uncomfortably in the room for a few long seconds before Brady spoke up. “While I admire your guts in speaking your mind, I also wonder if you think the wisest course of action is to piss off your new boss.”

      “All right, then,” she forced herself to say at last. “I’ll apologize for my outburst, as it wasn’t my intention to insult you.”

      “No need to apologize.”

      “I’ll decide for myself when I’m wrong, thanks,” she said, shaking her head firmly. “I promised myself I’d keep my temper in check, and I didn’t. So for that I’m sorry.”

      “Fine.”

      She swept her gaze across all three men, who were now watching her as if she was an unstable bomb. “But I won’t apologize for telling you what I think about the castle and its future.”

      Once again, she met the eyes of all three men before focusing on Brady alone. “I’ve been nervous about this meeting. It’s important to me that the people who work at the castle—including me—keep our jobs. I want the castle to shine again, as it should.”

      Brady’s gaze held hers, and she felt the Ryan brothers watching her, as well. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut. Perhaps she didn’t have the right to say anything at all about their plans for the place she loved. But she couldn’t sit idly by and pretend all was well when