“You requested that I provide a premium brand of toilet tissue. And that the house be clean of all insects, spiders and bugs, living and dead. I’d call that finicky. Besides, you said you’d wanted to visit the land of your ancestors before you died, so I put two and two together and came up with…well, definitely not you.”

Nan held fast to her temper. It wouldn’t do to make this man angry now. He was her only mode of transportation. “You did say you’d meet me at baggage claim. And you weren’t there. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I got tired of waiting. I’ve been standing around here for two feckin’ hours waiting on you.”

“I was supposed to arrive three hours ago.”

“Well, I was running late. I’ve got things to do today and I’m wasting my time searching for an old lady who doesn’t exist. I have to get back to the pub.”

“I’m sorry to keep you from your late-morning drinking,” she snapped. Yes, he was sexy, but he also could be a bit of an ass.

“My family owns a pub,” Riley explained. “I work there, along with my brothers.”

“And you run a guesthouse?”

“It doesn’t take much running, but, yes, I do that, too-plus lots of other things. Like driving demanding tourists home from the airport.” He shook his head. “You could have told me you were a fine bit of stuff.”

Though she should have been insulted, Nan’s irritation suddenly vanished and she smiled reluctantly. “‘Stuff’? What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m saying,” he replied. “You’re beautiful, so don’t get your knickers in a twist if I call you on it.” Riley reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, then handed it to her. “There’s your name. Come on. Spilt milk. I’m in the car park.” He grabbed her suitcase and started across the road. When she didn’t follow, he turned around and strode back, grabbing her carry-on. “It’s this way,” he said. “Don’t expect I’ll carry you, too.”