But then Rafe had never considered that particular trait a weakness, since he possessed the same. Rafe had been with his share of women in his life, though they came from a world very different from Quinn's Pub. They were cool and sophisticated, not nearly so obvious with their desires and their physical attributes. They were women who enjoyed the company of wealthy men, appreciating what money could provide, knowing how to play the game to their fullest advantage. And when Rafe became too busy or too bored, they'd accept the fact and move on to someone else without a second thought.

Rafe caught himself staring at a woman at the other end of the bar, a woman who had been flirting with Dylan Quinn until Quinn had focused his attention on her companion. Rafe looked away, but not soon enough. A few moments later, the woman slipped onto the stool beside him, tossing her honey-blond hair over her shoulder. She pulled out a cigarette and placed it between her moist lips, then leaned forward, offering a healthy view of her cleavage. Rafe knew what was expected. But he wasn't interested, so he simply slid the book of matches across the bar.

The woman didn't take the hint. She gave him a dazzling smile. "I'm Kara," she murmured. "Would you like to join me for a game of pool?"

Rafe didn't bother returning her smile. "I don't play pool," he said softly.

"Darts?" she said, arching her eyebrow and allowing her hand to brush against his sleeve.

Rafe slowly shook his head, then glanced over his shoulder. "I'm sure there are any number of men in this bar who'd enjoy your company tonight…Kara. I'm just not one of them."

She blinked in surprise, then, with a sniff, slipped off the bar stool and returned to her friends at the other end of the bar.

"Can I get you another Guinness, boyo?"

Rafe glanced up from his warm beer. The patriarch of the Quinn clan stood in front of him, a towel tossed over his shoulder. His thick gray hair dropped in a wave over his forehead and his face was lined from years of harsh sun and sea spray. "Or maybe ye'd like a bite to eat? Kitchen closes in fifteen minutes," Seamus added.