The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

as I told you, will take care of itself.”
     
    It was good advice, Jude decided. Even if she didn’t believe a word of it. Since a bubble bath was a fail-safe method of relaxation, she took one in her beloved claw-foot tub, indulging herself until her skin was pink and glowing, her eyes drooping, and the water going cold.
    Then she opened the cream she’d bought in Dublin and slathered herself in it. It never failed to make her feel female.
    Totally relaxed, she toyed with the idea of a short pre-party nap. Then walked into the bedroom and shrieked.
    “Finn! Oh, God!”
    He was in the middle of her bed, waging a fierce and violent war with her pillows. Feathers flew everywhere. He turned to her, tail thumping triumphantly as he held the vanquished pillow in his teeth.
    “That’s bad. Bad dog!” She waved feathers away and rushed to the bed. Sensing fun, he leaped down, tearing off with the pillow. Feathers leaked out and left a downy trail in his wake.
    “No, no, no! Stop. Wait. Finn, you come back here this minute!”
    She rushed after him, robe flapping as she tried to scoop up feathers. He made it all the way downstairs before she caught up, then she made the mistake of grabbing the pillow instead of the pup.
    His eyes went bright with the notion of tug-of-war. Snarling playfully, teeth dug in, he shook his head and sent more feathers billowing.
    “Let go! Damn it, look what you’re doing.” She made a grab, and between the wax and the feathers on the floor,went skidding. She managed one short scream as she sailed, belly-first, across the living room.
    She heard the door open behind her, glanced over her shoulder, and thought, Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
    “What are you up to there, Jude Frances?” Aidan leaned on the jamb while Shawn peeked in over his shoulder.
    “Oh, nothing.” She blew hair and feathers out of her eyes. “Nothing at all.”
    “Here I thought you’d be slaving away polishing the polish and scrubbing the scrubbing as you’ve been every day for a week, and I find you’re lazing about playing with the dog.”
    “Ha ha.” She untangled herself into a sitting position, rubbing the elbow that had banged against the floor. Finn bounced over and generously spit the pillow at Aidan’s feet.
    “Oh, that’s right. Give it to him.”
    “Well, you’ve killed it, haven’t you, boy-o? Deader than Moses.” After giving Finn a congratulatory pat, Aidan crossed the room to offer Jude a hand. “Have you hurt yourself, darling?”
    “No.” She sent him a sulky look. “It’s not a laughing matter.” She slapped his hand aside, spreading the glare out to Shawn as he began to chuckle. “There are feathers everywhere. It’ll take me days to find them all.”
    “You could start with your hair.” Aidan reached down, gripped her by the waist, and hauled her up. “It’s covered with them.”
    “Fine. Thanks for the help. Now I have work to do.”
    “We’ve brought some kegs from the pub. We’ll set them around back for you.” He blew a feather off her cheek, then leaned in to sniff her neck. “You smell perfect,” he murmured as she shoved at him. “Go away, Shawn.”
    “No, don’t you dare. I don’t have time for this.”
    “And close the door behind you,” Aidan finished and pulled Jude closer.
    “I’ll just take the dog, too, since he’s finished here. Come on, you terrible beast.” Shawn clucked to the dog and dutifully shut the door behind them.
    “I have to clean up this mess,” Jude began.
    “There’s time for that.” Slowly, Aidan walked her backward.
    “I’m not dressed.”
    “That’s something I noticed.” When he had her back to the wall, he ran his hands down her body, and up again. “Give us a kiss, Jude Frances. One that will hold me through the longest day.”
    It seemed a perfectly reasonable request, at least when his eyes were holding hers so intimately, and his body was so hard and warm and close. To answer it she lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck. Then, on impulse, she moved quickly, yanking him around until it was his back to the wall and her body pressed firm to his, her mouth crushed hard and hot to his.
    The sound he made was like a man drowning, and drowning willingly. His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging in to remind her of the night he’d lost all patience and control. The thrill of it whipped through her, potent and strong with a snap of the possessive.
    He was hers, as long as it lasted. To touch, to