Page 7 of A Billionaire Abroad

He nodded along with her retelling. “I’ve made that mistake.”

“You’ll warn me before I hire someone like that, won’t you?”

“You have my word.” He stopped their forward progress. “Now.” He pointed beside them. “Is that the castle church you saw this morning?”

She looked. It was a gorgeous old stone church. Absolutely beautiful. “That’s not the same one, but it’s amazing.”

“Hmm.”

She didn’t know what that noise was supposed to mean.

They continued on, eventually winding their way to a much larger street. The city was old. No one would miss that walking down this stretch of road. They stopped at an intersection, and Conall pointed up the road.

“Is that your castle church?”

Another church sat up that street, all of it except the steeple blocked from view by nearer buildings. “That’s not it.” She eyed him, curious. “You’re searching for the church I thought was a castle?”

“Mostly I’m curious to know how far you walked. You never stop working, but you did this morning to take a jaunt. I’m curious to know how long you were away.”

For just a moment, she was flattered that he had such curiosity about her. But she pushed it aside at the reminder that they had work to do. “How far away are the venues we’re looking at?”

“Not far.” He tucked his hands in the pockets of his jacket and kept walking.

She moved faster to keep pace with him. “All the times I dreamed of coming to Ireland, I always assumed that the Irish people would be friendly.”

“We are friendly,” he said.

“You’re grumpy.”

“That’s part of the Irish charm.” He leaned nearer as they walked on. “We’reboth.”

“Sterling manages to be charming without being grumpy,” she said.

“What he manages to be is rich. The charming or the grumpy of it doesn’t matter much after that.”

“That’s unfair,” she said.

“But is it untrue?”

The tiniest moment of doubt kept her from responding immediately. But she came back to her senses. “Of course it’s not true.”

“You know him well, then?” Conall asked. “Spent lots of time with him? Seen him in a lot of different circumstances?”

“Well, no, but I have gotten to know him. We put on an event together.”

“Ah.” That was all he said about that. He was so frustrating.

A green double-decker bus passed. A man’s voice, singing a song, floated off of it, sounding like it was coming through speakers.

“Was the driver singing?” she wondered out loud.

“They do on the tours sometimes,” Conall said. “Adds a bit of color to the drive.”

It was probably considered cheesy and totally touristy, but that sounded like a blast. A tour of the city while being sung to . . . she could get into that.

“The whole loop doesn’t take long. You ought to tuck it into your schedule in the next day or two.”

Oh, it was tempting. But she shook her head. “I’m here to work, not tour.”