she crawled back into bed and stretched herself over him. "i know exactly how he feels," she murmured. "nothing makes you more irritable than selling what you love."

"if he didn't sell them, they'd die." he tipped up her chin. "if you didn't sell what you love, part of you would die, too."

"well, the part that needs to eat would without a doubt. are you going to call up one of those fancy waiters and have him bring us breakfast?"

"what would you like?"

her eyes danced. "oh, everything. starting with this..."

she tugged the sheets away and fell on him.

quite a bit later she stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in the plush white robe that had hung on the back of the door. she found rogan at a table by the parlor window, pouring coffee and reading the paper.

"that newspaper's in french." she sniffed at a basket of croissants. "you read french and italian?"

"mmm." his brows were knit over the financial pages. he was thinking of calling his broker.

"what else?"

"what else what?"

"what else do you read-speak. language i mean."

"some german. enough spanish to get by."

"gaelic?"

"no." he turned the page, scanning for news of art auctions. "do you?"

"my father's mother spoke it, so i learned." her shoulders moved restlessly as she slathered jam onto a steaming croissant. "it's not much good, i suppose, except for cursing. it won't get you the best table in a french restaurant."

"it's valuable. we've lost a considerable amount of our heritage." which was something he thought about, often. "it's a pity that there are only pockets in ireland where you can hear irish spoken." because this reminded him of an idea he'd been toying with, he folded his paper and set it aside. "say something in gaelic."

"i'm eating."

"say something for me, maggie, in the old tongue."

she made a little sound of impatience, but obliged him. it was musical, exotic and as foreign to him as greek.

"what did you say?"

"that you've a pleasing face to see of a morning." she smiled. "you see it's a language as useful for flattery as it is for cursing. now say something to me in french."

he did more than speak. he leaned over, touched his lips softly to hers, then murmured, "me reveiller a c