Pitch Imperfect by Elise Alden Page B

that?
Still, he had no right to judge her. He was here with the woman who’d slated her in the paper, a woman who’d no doubt targeted him to be her next “anything in a kilt” conquest. Didn’t Rob care what Sarah had said about her?
    Then again, why should he? So she could kiss whoever she wanted, right here in the pub if she so desired. Not that she was planning to kiss anybody. But would Rob be jealous if she did? Oh, hell, what was she, fourteen? He hadn’t left though, taking his sweet time to pocket his change.
    Anjuli gave Damien the warm smile she used to bestow on fans who brought her flowers after a performance. “The stout is on the house since you didn’t get the last thing on your list,” she said, watching Rob walk over to Sarah. The reporter was in a clingy green dress that showed plenty of cleavage.
The slut.
    Damien flirted with Anjuli when he came back for a refill and then again when he bought a round, taking her mind off the man whose every movement she was tracking out of the corner of her eye.
    “Tradition dictates that if the beautiful woman refuses to kiss the suffering Irishman she must grant him a wish,” he declared, drawing the attention of surrounding punters. “Come with me to the Town Hall ceilidh or doom me to an evening of loneliness.”
    Anjuli fixed him with a direct, open look. “Please don’t take this the wrong way,
gorgeous
, but I’ve heard you’re a frank sort and I think you can take it. I’m not interested in romance or sex, or any combination of the two.”
    Damien sighed theatrically. “If you won’t make me the happiest man in Heaverlock then I offer you my friendship.”
    Anjuli watched Sarah scoot her chair closer to Rob’s.
Is she desperate or something?
Oh
,
they’re being joined by a few more people
. Of course she would want to sit closer to him than the bloke staring at her cleavage.
    “Friendship accepted,” she said.
    “Just tell me one thing,” Damien said, surprising her with his sudden seriousness. “You’re a beautiful, single woman. What happened to turn you away from a good time? Life as a nun is damned boring. Two of my aunts married Christ so I know what I’m talking about.”
    Anjuli stepped back. “If we’re going to be friends then talking about the past is strictly off limits. No deep and meaningfuls about my former relationships or emotional traumas. I’ll extend you the same courtesy, since I could ask what made you up sticks from Ireland to tiny Heaverlock.”
    Damien’s expression drew inwards and he toasted her with his pint glass. “To angels and demons.”
    “So we have a deal, Irishman?”
    “I can’t promise I won’t forget myself and steal a kiss or two, but then you can put me in my place. I’m a sucker for a dominatrix.”
    Anjuli laughed and shook her head. “Don’t you ever give up?”
    “Find out next Tuesday. I don’t normally hold a pet clinic in the morning but I’ll make an exception for...?”
    “Reiver.”
    “Reiver Carver it is, 11:30, and then I’ll take you to lunch. Don’t shake your head at me, gorgeous. My mother taught me never to take strangers to a ceilidh and that means I have to get to know you.”
    Well, why not? It would be fun to spend time with a man who didn’t throw her into hopeless turmoil. Someone she was in no danger of loving or being loved by, someone she was not going to spend the next half of the game staring at from behind the bar, she promised herself.
    A spate of happy, thirsty customers at the end of the game—Scotland 21, Ireland 9 result—allowed her to keep her promise. When she finally had a chance to glance towards Rob’s table, he and Sarah were gone.
    “They left together,” Ash said, coming out of the back office. “Rob’s taking her home.”
    “How can you possibly know that? You were in the kitchen the entire game.”
    Ash adjusted her green
shalwar kameez
. “I was in the bathroom and I overheard Lesley Harris tell her sister that Sarah was