The first thing Alexa heard when she walked through the door was someone with a strong Irish tongue cursing like a sailor from an adjoining room. She couldn't remember Patrick mentioning anyone else assisting her at the castle. She thought she would have free reign to come and go as she pleased, without the worry of someone else getting in the way.

Patrick O’Shea was, in her opinion, a huge ass. He wasn’t there to meet her at the airport, wasn’t there for her first day on the job, and now he had taken it upon himself to have someone else working with her. Hadn’t she been clear enough when she told him that after her last assignment she wanted to work alone?

She scolded herself for being judgmental. She had no idea who the stranger in the castle with her was. He could simply be the groundskeeper, the person who had the main gate open for her arrival.

Keeping her temper in check, she set her things down on the floor, making sure the thermos was sitting upright. The last thing she needed was her caffeine supply leaking all over the stone.

Once everything was situated, she headed off toward the direction of the noise and found a man with his back to her, talking to himself in a loud voice while throwing what appeared to be glass bottles into a large trash bag. He didn’t seem to notice her come into the room. Afraid she might startle him and get hit with a piece of glass, she stood and watched for a moment.

The muscles on his arms flexed as he continued to pick up trash from the floor, and even from the back she could tell he was tall and lean with a body that looked like a gift from the gods.

She cleared her throat to give him warning that he was no longer alone.

The swearing stopped immediately and his body stiffened.

“Are you okay?” she asked as he spun around to face her.

Her jaw dropped. He was not attractive, he was drop-dead gorgeous, and he was the silent stranger from the pub.