Deirdre was all smiles and joy, her tone playful and adorable. But Declan sniped a concerned glance at Kyran and saw an icy visage shadowed by guilt. His eyes were so hollow and devoid of light they could have belonged to a corpse.

“Let me do the honors, Miss McKinnon. Kyran’s a little tired from the drive.”

She stopped, stunned for a moment, and smiled. “Well, I won’t say no to that. Thanks!”

Declan rolled up his sleeves. “Pleasure’s all mine. Working in the kitchen could probably help me sober up.”

He stepped into the kitchen and began looking. He found it easily enough, but as he passed it to Deirdre, she thanked him and asked, “Did you really drink?”

He paused. His smile became a little mechanical. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t smell like you had booze. You smell like cigarettes.”

Declan sighed in relief. “No, I drank. The smell probably left on the journey, and then I smoked a cigarette outside. The smell must have covered it up.”

“Huh?” Deirdre hummed noncommittally. “I