“Anne?” His voice was laced with concern.

“Sorry. Having a moment of inconvenient self-revelation.”

Murphy smiled. “Take your time.”

If he could change, she would have to as well.

“No, I couldn’t swim. Would have made it much harder for Liam O’Dea to kill me, wouldn’t it?”

A dark flash of anger at the mention of her long-dead stepfather. “You told me he killed you, but you never told me why.”

“Clearly he didn’t like me.”

When Murphy said nothing, Anne knew her glib reply wouldn’t satisfy him this time. When he was younger, she’d been able to distract Murphy from uncomfortable questions about her past. But he was no longer a young immortal. He watched her with calm expectation.

“Liam O’Dea married my mother when I was a child, but he never liked me. Barely liked his own children when my mother birthed them. The more I grew, the more he hated me.”

“But you kept his name?”

“It was my father’s name as well,” Anne said. “My da was Liam’s cousin, a big, strong, jovial man everyone loved.” Anne forced a smile to her face. “Nobody much loved Liam.”

“Do you look like your father?”

She nodded. “Everyone mourned Da when his boat was lost, especially my mother. She never truly recovered. She married Liam to provide for us, because she was young and pretty and that was what women did then.”

“And she had more children?”

“I had four younger brothers and sisters.” This was why she didn’t speak of the past. The pain in her chest was excruciating. “My mother walked into the sea when the youngest was only a few months old. Severe postpartum depression, I believe. Or an accident? She loved the sea, but she couldn’t swim. And we had those horrible long skirts then…” Anne shook her head. “I was nearing twenty, mourning, and desperate to leave Liam’s house, but no one wanted me.”

“I find that inconceivable,” Murphy said. “You’re intelligent. A beautiful woman. You’ve always been a hard worker—”

“But I was very desperate and very adamant about taking four children with me.” Her smile was sad. “Not the most attractive prospect. Then Liam suggested strongly that I marry him. And not even the priest objected. I knew… I tried to run away. That did not go well.”

She let her silence speak. Anne felt wrung out.

Inconvenient self-revelation, indeed.

“I’d finish him myself if I could,” Murphy growled.

“No need,” Anne said blithely. “Father took care of him long ago. He’d been watching us for some time. I didn’t know who or what he was. I thought he was a tramp who liked my mother’s songs and wandered down at the shore by our cottage at night.”

“Do you think he loved her?”

“In a way.” She couldn’t stop the smile. “She was a very delicate woman. She inspired that instinct in men.”

“Is that why you’re so blasted independent?” Humor laced his voice. “So you’re not like your mother?”

“Probably.”

Anne said nothing else.

“Your father said you’re to come visit him as soon as you can.” As if sensing her emotional exhaustion, Murphy’s voice was pitched deliberately lighter. “And be prepared to sing a song or two at the pub.”

“Ah.” She dove under and surfaced, wiping the cobwebs of memory away and brushing her wet hair back as she climbed the steps. “I’d wondered if that’s where you were going tonight.”

“Did he say something?”

“No. I just knew you would.”

Murphy watched her with intent. “I don’t like to avoid people when I know we have a disagreement.”

“Unlike me,” she said, picking up a towel and pressing her long hair to dry it. “The queen of avoidance.”

“I didn’t say that. Come here.” He crooked a finger at her, still slouched in the lounge chair.

Anne walked over but didn’t get too close. “I’m dripping. And I don’t want to get your suit wet.”

“I don’t care.” He hooked a finger in the towel wrapped round her waist. “Hello, what have we here?”

He parted the towel and let it drop, running both hands down her sides.

Confession had stripped her bare. “Murphy—”

“Quiet. I’m enjoying the view.” He put both hands on her hips and spread his legs, bringing her between his knees. “Lovely.”

“It’s a very black, very practical bathing suit. Hardly worth admiring.”

“Is that so? Perhaps you should get rid of it then.”

“Shameless man.” Hunger struck again, but she swallowed the burn. “I went shopping earlier today. I’ll be professionally wardrobed by Thursday evening.”

“Until then, I think it best for you to remain naked in our suite. It’s the only acceptable option, I’m afraid.”

“Our suite? I thought the very efficient Judith told me the room was mine.”

“You can’t expect me to sleep in a queen bed, can you? You wound me, Anne. You know how sensitive I am.”

“Oh yes, sensitive is the first word that comes to mind.”

His hands intoxicated her. Murphy had barely moved them, but she was seduced. His thumbs stroked over her bathing suit. His fingertips pressed into her flesh. Not hard, just sure enough to remind her how strong his hands could be. What they could do to her skin. Her body.