The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

every one of you who lives in the village is already discussing my business by now. Let me make it very clear. I am not marrying this baboon disguised as a man.”
    There were a few snickers, and when she saw the kitchen door slit open, she spun back again. “Don’t stand behind the door, Shawn, come right on out. It’s not you I’m after.”
    “And thank God for it,” he muttered, but being a loyal brother he came out to stand beside Aidan.
    “Pretty as a picture, the pair of you. And you, too,” she said, pointing at Darcy. “I hope you both have more brains than your brother, who seems to think because he’s got a handsome face women are going to swoon at his feet at the first sign of attention.”
    “Now, Jude darling.”
    “Don’t you darling me.” She reared up over the bar to rap a fist on his chest. “And don’t call me Jude in that patient, infuriatingly placating tone, you. . . bloody moron.”
    His own eyes flashed and temper threatened. He jerkedhis thumb at Shawn to take over the taps and nodded to Jude. “We’ll go upstairs and finish this.”
    “I’m going nowhere with you.” She rapped her fist on his chest again, enjoying the violence of it. “I will not be bullied.”
    “Bullied? Who’s bullying you, I’d like to know, when you’re the one pounding on me?”
    “I can do worse.” She was suddenly, thrillingly, sure of it. “If you think that by telling everyone who’ll listen I’m going to marry you, you’ll pressure me into it, or embarrass me into it, or just wear me down, you’re in for a surprise. I have no intention of being told what to do with my life, not by you, not by anyone.”
    She spun around again. “And everyone here better understand that. Just because I’m sleeping with him doesn’t mean I’m shopping for a wedding cake when he snaps his fingers. I’ll sleep with whomever I please.”
    “I’m available,” someone called out and brought on hoots of laughter.
    “That’s enough.” Aidan slammed a hand on the bar, and the glasses jumped. “This is private business.” He shoved past Shawn to flip up the pass-through. “Upstairs, Jude Frances.”
    “No.” She kept her chin up. “And since that appears to be a word you have trouble with, I’ll ask which part of no you don’t understand.”
    “Upstairs,” he said again, and took a firm grip on her arm. “This isn’t the place.”
    “It’s your place,” she reminded him. “And it’s your doing. Take your hand off me.”
    “We’ll discuss this in private.”
    “I’m done discussing it.” When she tried to yank her arm free, he simply started hauling her toward the back. The fact that he could, that people parted way for them,that he was strong enough to drag her wherever he chose snapped something inside her. And the last lock of that dark, bubbling brew broke clean.
    “I said take your hand off me, you son of a bitch.” She couldn’t quite remember doing it, not with the red haze coating her vision, but she felt the impact sing up her free arm as her fist connected with his face.
    “Holy Christ.” Stars exploded in his head, and the pain was as awesome as the sheer shock of what she’d done. Instinctively he pressed a hand under his nose as blood began to pour.
    “And keep them off,” she said with great dignity, as the pub once again fell silent. She turned and walked out seconds before the applause erupted.
    “Here, try this.” Shawn passed him over a rag. “That’s a hell of a right jab our Jude has.”
    “Aye.” He had to sit down and did so as Darcy pulled him toward a vacated stool. “What hell got into her?” He ignored the new bets being laid in the marriage pool, and took, with gratitude, the ice Shawn brought him.
    He stared at the bloody rag with both amazement and disgust. “The woman’s managed what hasn’t been done in thirty-one years. She’s broke my goddamn nose.”

TWENTY
    “I’ M NOT GOING after her, chasing her like a puppy.”
    Shawn continued to fry up fish and chips while Aidan iced down his abused nose in the kitchen. “So you’ve said, ten or twelve times in the last twenty minutes.”
    “Well, I’m not.”
    “Fine. Be a bloody brick-headed idiot.”
    “Don’t you start on me.” Aidan lowered the ice pack. “I can hit you back.”
    “And so you have, more times than I care to count. Doesn’t make you less of an idiot.”
    “Why am I an idiot? She’s the one who comes swaggering in here, peak hour, too, looking for