Page 11 of Cocktails & Cauldrons

“She’s clueless, she is.” He winked in Brenna’s direction, sending her into a tizzy and hopefully distracting her from the rest of Dubheasa’s tangent about Ronan, Aethers, and Oracles. Eoin suspected Brenna’s knowledge of such things was limited, and he wasn’t up to a crash course in all things magic. He was still learning some of the basics himself.

“Clueless?” From the shrill tone of Brenna’s voice, she’d taken umbrage with his comment, as he’d hoped. “I may not know about Guardians and babies… er… um, baby…” Her neck was the first to flush, quickly followed by the petal-soft skin of her face. Eoin suspected, like himself, Brenna’s train of thought was derailed by their strange sexual chemistry. That she’d stalled where she did when she looked at him was telling. “Er, Aethers,” she finished lamely.

“Baby Aethers,” Dubheasa corrected absently as she paced, seemingly oblivious to what was happening between Brenna and him. “Like I’m to be some Sentinel of Magic tasked with watching over the Aether’s daughter. Not feckin’ likely! Eoin! Are ya even payin’ attention to me here?”

When he was finally able to tear his gaze away from Brenna’s striking face and focus on his sister, he found her glaring at him with her hands on her hips. Brenna was going to get an education in magic anyway, it seemed.

“Aye. You’re right fierce in your determination to shun Ronan O’Connor and avoid becoming a Sentinel of Magic. I heard ya the first time you caused me ears to bleed with your shrill banshee tone,” he said dryly. “And ya can calm the feck down, Dubheasa. I’m not after lettin’ ya make a mistake of that caliber by hooking up with O’Connor.”

When his sister turned as fiery red as Brenna had less than a minute before, he knew she’d already had sex with Ronan.

“Oh, feck. Tell me ya didn’t already shag the man. You’ll not get rid of him now.” Eoin shook his head. “He’ll be just like all the other poor bastards who you’ve shagged, and you’ll not shake him until ya move to another country.” He frowned as it occurred to him exactly what type of magic Ronan possessed as a Guardian. “But I suppose in his case, he’ll find ya easy enough.”

“That’s the problem! Were ya not listening, Eoin? He knows where to find me, and he’s found a way to haunt me dreams, he has!”

Ice seemed to freeze the blood in his veins. Dubheasa’s fears were real if Ronan O’Connor was playing dirty and using magic to invade her sleep. Eoin sat up quickly, gripping the back of the couch to keep from hunting Ronan down and doing what he should’ve done earlier tonight and wiping the floor with the man’s too-handsome-to-be-real face. “What’s this, then?”

She threw up her hands in frustration. “I swear you’ve not been paying attention to me. I’ve a problem here, brother, and all ya seem to be interested in is toying with your little mouse.” Storming toward the exit, she threw over her shoulder, “Never ya mind, then. I’ll find a way to outsmart the fecker myself. See if I don’t!”

After the front door slammed behind her, silence reigned for a full minute. Eoin was almost afraid to look at Brenna, sensing she wasn’t over her pique. When he met her stormy gaze and sawhow proudly she stood with her chin held high and her brows arched, he knew he deserved whatever she intended to dish up.

“I don’t think I can make as spectacular an exit as your sister, but I can at least say I’m far from clueless, Mr. O’Malley.”

Her voice was cooler than he’d ever heard it. His heart rate increased, thudding heavily inside his chest, and he was disconcerted by how turned on her frosty tone made him. And Brenna wasn’t done giving him what for.

“If—and here I’ll stress the word—ifI decide to take the job you so carelessly offered earlier tonight, there’s one thing you need to know about me. I havealwaysbeen aware of how the world works. I may not participate in every conversation, and I’ve been forced to linger on the outskirts like a good little minion to Aunt Odessa, but believe me, working for her, I’ve received quite the education on human nature.”

He rose and crossed to where she stood with her hands balled by her sides. With her eyes sparking fire and her pale skin a soft rose, she looked attractive in a way he’d not noticed before tonight. Not bothering with permission, he removed her ghastly glasses and tossed them on the sofa.

“I want to paint you,” he stated, unconcerned by the husky quality in his voice. If she intended to stick around, she would soon learn he gave into his desires and denied himself nothing.

Her jaw fell open, and she blinked rapidly in her attempt to focus on him. “You can’t be serious. I’m”—she swallowed hard—“not beautiful. Not l-like your r-regular models.”

“Perhaps not, but you’re far more interestin’. Say you’ll pose for me.”

Brenna remained quiet for the span of a minute, and Eoin waited. He hoped like hell she would say yes, because his hand itched to pick up a brush and capture the riot of emotions constantly flashing in her fascinating eyes.

“Is it a condition of my employment?” she finally asked.

Stuffing down the desire to say yes, he shook his head. “I hired you to do exactly as I proposed at the gallery, Brenna. Nothin’ more.”

As he saw the “no” forming on her lips, he held up a hand. “All I ask is that ya think about it, yeah?”

CHAPTER 5

Brenna had no idea how she’d ended up in first class on an airbus to Ireland, but there she was, courtesy of Eoin O’Malley. He was sprawled out next to her in his reclining seat, fast asleep, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She, on the other hand, had a million-and-one thoughts crowding her brain. And all of them centered around the future, or in her case, the lack thereof.

The last two days had been a whirlwind, and somehow he’d managed to secure her passport, buy her two suitcases full of clothes, and book their tickets for Ireland. So efficiently, in fact, she wondered why he needed to hire her. Which brought her thoughts around to working for him…

Employment with Eoin would be fine for the time being, but since she’d pined for him for what felt like forever, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hang around him long term. Eventually, she’d give herself away or someone would notice her making cow eyes at him. Embarrassment would set in, and she’d have to shave her head, change her name, and move to a remote island where no one had ever heard of the newly famous artist, Eoin O’Malley.

“I can feel you thinking,” Eoin said in a low, gravely voice, heavy with sleep. “Get some rest, yeah. Let tomorrow take care of itself, love.”

Curious and surprised by his insight, she asked, “Don’t you ever worry about anything?”

Lids at half mast, he studied her in a lazy, unhurried manner. “Rarely. But then I’ve always gone after what I wanted with a single-minded purpose. Sure, and maybe I’m a little arrogant here, but if I’ve a mind to get it, I do.”

“I wish I were that brave,” she said, almost to herself. Still, he heard.

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