Born in Shame by Nora Roberts Page B

a half mile from the college. Little Jewish couple runs it. They make these rum cakes.”
    â€œI know the place.” It made her smile to think of it,and easy to talk to another American. “I hit it every Sunday morning for four years.”
    Since Maggie was busy with Liam and all Murphy seemed capable of doing was staring at her, Shannon felt no qualms about ignoring them in favor of Gray. “Brianna told me you came here to research a book. Does that mean your next one’s set here?”
    â€œYeah. It’s coming out in a couple of months.”
    â€œI’ll look forward to it. I enjoy your books very much.”
    â€œI’ll see you get an advanced copy.” When the baby began to fuss, Gray lifted her out and into the curve of his arm where she fell cozily silent again.
    Shannon nibbled on her sandwich—which was good, certainly and filled the hole she hadn’t realized hunger had dug. Satisfied but not overly impressed, she nipped into a tart.
    Her whole system signaled pleasure of the most acute and sinful.
    Gray merely grinned when her eyes drifted half closed. “Who needs heaven, right?”
    â€œDon’t interrupt,” she murmured, “I’m having an epiphany.”
    â€œYeah, there’s something religious about Brie’s pastries all right.” Gray helped himself to another.
    â€œPig.” Maggie wrinkled her nose at him. “Leave some for me to take home to Rogan at least.”
    â€œWhy don’t you learn to make your own?”
    â€œWhy should I?” Smug, Maggie licked cream from her thumb. “I’ve only to walk up the road to have yours.”
    â€œYou live nearby?” Shannon felt her pleasure dim at the idea.
    â€œJust down the road.” Maggie’s thin smile indicated she understood Shannon’s sentiments completely.
    â€œRogan drags her off periodically,” Gray put in. “ToDublin or one of their galleries. Things are more peaceful then.” He snuck Liam a sugar cookie.
    â€œBut I’m here often enough to keep an eye on things, and to see that Brianna isn’t overtaxed.”
    â€œBrianna can keep an eye on herself,” said the woman in question as she came back into the kitchen. “Gray, leave some of those tarts for Rogan.”
    â€œSee?”
    Gray merely sneered at Maggie and pulled his wife down in the chair beside him. “Aren’t you hungry, Murphy?”
    Because that unblinking stare was beginning to annoy her, Shannon drummed her fingers on the table. “Mr. Muldoon’s too busy staring at me to bother eating.”
    â€œClod,” Maggie muttered and jabbed Murphy with an elbow.
    â€œI beg your pardon.” Murphy snatched up his teacup hastily enough to have it slop over the rim. “I was woolgathering is all. I should get back.” And maybe when he returned to his own fields he’d find his sanity waiting. “Thank you, Brie, for the tea. Welcome to Ireland, Miss Bodine.”
    He grabbed his cap, stuffed it on his head, and hurried out.
    â€œWell, never did I think to see the day that Murphy Muldoon left his plate full.” Baffled, Maggie rose to take it to the counter. “I’ll just take it for Rogan.”
    â€œYes, do,” Brianna said absently. “Do you think he’s coming down with something? He didn’t look himself.”
    Shannon thought he’d looked healthy enough, and with a shrug forgot the odd Mr. Muldoon and finished her tea.
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    Later when the sky was just losing its bloom of blue and edging toward gray, Shannon took a tour throughBrianna’s back gardens. Her hostess had wanted her, quite clearly, to vacate the kitchen after the family’s evening meal. No particular fan of washing dishes, Shannon had agreed to the suggestion that she take some air and enjoy the quiet of evening.
    It was certainly the place to do nothing, Shannon decided, intrigued as she strolled around the