Page 3 of Wine & Warlocks

CHAPTER2

Dubheasa was fit to be tied.

Ronan looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in his fine mouth, and yet he’d been the cause of all her woes lately. None of her troubles had started until he arrived in New York, months back, looking like something that stepped out of Men’s Fitness magazine. She’d been swayed by his looks and lies, but wised-up soon enough when she discovered his true identity. Then he showed up at Eoin’s home a few weeks ago, claiming the lot of them needed to be locked down together—and didn’t Dubheasa almost lose her bleeding mind duringthatlittle party? She’d been less than five minutes from giving in to his carefully crafted charm when the truth saved her.

Now, he’d turned up again, like a bad penny.

“Leave me alone, Ronan O’Connor. I won’t be telling ya again.”

Something in her tone must’ve penetrated his thick skull because the amusement died from his face and his eyes turned to gunmetal gray, as if her words caused him distress. Changing irises were a witch’s tell, and Ronan’s had turned from sparkling to dull in the face of her warning.

“Sure, and if that’s what you truly want, Dove, I’ll be leaving ya alone.” Bravely—or stupidly—he approached her, only stopping when they were mere inches from touching. “I’ll grant you anything within my power, love. You’ve only to say it and mean it.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Sure, and there’s no catch. Whatever you want. You’ve only to ask, and I’ll make it happen.”

“What? Like a genie?” she scoffed.

“If you’d like.”

Dubheasa paused to consider what he said, and during that time, he kept his steady regard on her. It occurred to her that if Ronan could influence people using his magic, he might help her fix her employment issue.

“I want my job back,” she said succinctly.

Through narrowed eyes, he watched her for the span of a few chest-thumping heartbeats. Finally, he nodded. “If that’s what you truly want, it shall be done.”

“Are ya mad? Of course it’s what I want!” Why did it feel like he was tricking her?

“Then it will happen,ifit’s what you truly want.”

“Are you fecking codding me? Why do you keep saying it like that?”

He grinned but remained silent.

She squinted her suspicion. Leaning in so only he could hear, she asked, “Are Guardians like genies, then? Do I get three wishes for rubbing your… lamp?”

It shouldn’t have, but his bark of laughter thrilled her down to her toes. Trying her best to suppress her own humor in light of his contagious guffaw, she lifted a challenging brow.

“Are ya willin’ to rub me lamp, then, Dove?”

“We both know I’ve already done that. More’s the pity. Now you owe me.”

His grin brought her back to the night in her apartment. Right before he’d stripped her of her clothing in the most delicious fashion.

She shivered at the memory. Yes, it was months past, but Dubheasa hadn’t forgotten the feel of his hands upon her skin or the loving way he’d worshiped her body throughout the long night. How he’d made her scream his name in the early morning hours—a fake name, it turned out.

She shoved away the warm feeling his grin had created.

Ronan shook his head. “No, love. I don’t owe ya a thing.”

Scowling up at him, she placed her hands on her hips. “How do you figure?”

“Do you truly wish to do this here?”

Ronan’s gaze darted to someone behind her, and Dubheasa turned to see the forgotten American watching them with a mixture of humor and regret.

“Oh!” She stepped toward him, only to be brought up short by Ronan’s hand on her arm.

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