The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

energy, in just a minute, to get them both into bed.
    “I can’t stay like this,” she murmured against his shoulder.
    “I know. Just a second.”
    “Maybe we could just slide down to the floor here for a bit of a while. I can’t feel me legs, anyway. You make me dizzy, Trevor.”
    It made him laugh, and he turned his head, buried his face in her hair. “I’d say I’d carry you to bed, but I’d never make it and it would ruin the image of manly prowess. You make me weak, Darcy.”
    “It’d take quite a bit to spoil the image after this.”
    “Well, in that case.” He slipped an arm behind her knees, lifted her. His hair was tousled, his eyes sleepy and satisfied.
    She toyed with the silver disk dangling from the chain, closed her fingers around it. She started to answer his grin, then could only stare as her heart landed right at his feet.
    “What is it?” Alarmed by the shock in her eyes and the quick paling of her cheeks, he crossed quickly to the bed to set her down. “Did I hurt you?”
    “No.” Oh, Jesus, oh, God. Holy Mother of God. “Just dizzy for a minute, as I said. I’m better now, but I still have that powerful thirst. I could dearly use that wine, if you don’t mind.”
    “Sure.” Not quite convinced, he skimmed his knuckles over her cheek. “Just sit there. I’ll be right back.”
    The minute he was out of the room, she grabbed a bed pillow and pummeled it viciously with her fists. Damn it all to hell and back again, she’d gotten caught in a web of her own spinning. The man was supposed to be bewitched by her, intrigued, frustrated, satisfied, stupefied, and willing to be her slave before she was done.
    And now she’d kicked her own self in the ass and gone and fallen in love with him.
    It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She pounded the pillow again, then hugged it against her as her stomach took a deep, diving dip. How was she supposed to wrap the man around her finger when she was already wrapped around his?
    It had been such a good plan, too: She would use her wiles, her lures, her charm, her temper, everything at her disposal. Then when he was caught, as surely he would have been, she’d have been free to snip him loose or keep him. There would have been time to decide which suited her best by then.
    Well, this was God’s punishment, she supposed. Fate’s little joke. She’d been so certain she could keep her heart in check until she decided if she should love him or not. Now she had no choice at all.
    For the first time in her life, her heart wasn’t her own. And a terrifying sensation it was.
    She bit her knuckles, worrying over it. What did she do now? How could she think just now?
    It had been all right when it was a kind of game. It hadn’t done more than nip at her temper to think that the manner of man Trevor was wouldn’t be serious about a woman such as herself. Now, well, it was a great deal more important.
    And more infuriating.
    Because, she thought as that temper began to bubble and burn away panic, if the likes of him thought he could toss her aside just because he had a fancy education and property and money to burn, he was very much mistaken in the matter.
    The bastard.
    She was in love with him, so she would have him. As soon as she figured out the best way to get him.
    Her head came up, a she-wolf prepared to bare fangs, when she heard him coming up the stairs. It took all her control, and all her skill, to bury that instinct, force that temper back, and greet him with a silky smile.
    “Okay now?” He came to her, held out a glass of white wine.
    She took it, sipped delicately. “Never better,” she said and patted the bed beside her. “Come sit by me, darling, and tell me all about your day.”
    Her sugary tone had him wary, but he sat, tapped his glass against hers. “The end of it was the best part.”
    She laughed and walked her fingers up his thigh. “And who said it was over?”
    • • •
Brenna wasn’t the least bit pleased about being hauled off the job at nine in the morning. She’d argued, cursed, and sulked while Darcy dragged her up the hill to the Gallagher house through a drizzling rain that sent puffs of mist creeping behind them.
    “Trevor’s a right to give me the boot for this.”
    “He won’t.” Darcy took a firmer hold on Brenna’s arm. “And you’re entitled to a morning break, aren’t you? Been on the job already since half-six. I need twenty minutes of your precious time.”
    “You could have had it