Page 32 of An Enchanted Spring

Aidan gave a nod to Cian, who pulled out into traffic.

“Best let the whole sordid tale out, lass. I need to know what we’re up against here.”

In all her years of living in the city, Emma never once felt the fear coursing through her veins as she did now. Could she really trust this man? Her history with men wasn’t exactly a testament to her good judgment.

“We’ve got a long ride ahead,” Aidan reminded her.

“Boston isn’t all that far. What if he’s following us?” she exclaimed suddenly, twisting her head to peer out the back window.

“He’s not. Cian made sure of it.”

“How can you be sure?” she asked, her voice high.

“Emmaline. The incident in the coffee shop will never be repeated.”

“You can’t know that.” She glanced out the window, wondering if Ben or one of his minions was close.

“I can, and I do. Trust me, things will settle once we’re in Boston. No one knows you there.”

“Like the Witness Protection Program?” she wondered.

“Better,” he said. “It’s the Aidan MacWilliam Protection Program.”

“Emma, be reasonable.”

Emma remained silent. She was being perfectly reasonable—Cian had dropped them in front of a building that, while beautiful, was clearlynota hotel.

“You’ll like Colin. He’s nice, and has plenty of room,” Aidan coaxed.

“I don’t like relying on the charity of others, Aidan. I said I’d pay for my own hotel room. And I don’t know anything about this man,” she added.

He smiled humorlessly at the jab. “You know enough about me.” They stood outside the building; Aidan’s hands were jammed into the pockets of his leather jacket and Emma’s arms were crossed. He gently grasped her elbow and led her toward the door. “His name is Colin O’Rourke. He’s my cousin. We’re close. And we’re going in, Emma. It’s cold.”

“I’m not cold, thanks to this ridiculously expensive jacket,” she replied, narrowing her eyes.

“It’s a safe place,” Aidan replied firmly.

She reluctantly gave in (she had no choice, as she was in the middle of an unfamiliar city with a madman after her), and walked up the stairs without further comment.

Colin opened the door, a smile on his face. “Aidan! Long time no see, bro!”

Emma stared. Colin O’Rourke looked as though he just stepped from the pages of a J. Crew catalog. His dark blondhair was casually swept to the side, and his tee shirt clung to enormous, muscled shoulders that tapered into impressively built biceps. Low-slung, well-fitted jeans hugged his long, lean legs, and his eyes were a chocolate brown that actually sparkled. The dimples in his cheeks were so deep Emma almost fanned herself.

“Emma Perkins,” she finally managed, holding her hand out. Colin shook it, grinning.

“A pleasure, Emma. I’m Colin O’Rourke, and welcome to you, as well. I’m happy you agreed to come with Aidan; I’ve been very interested in meeting you.” He had a very slight Boston accent.

“Colin…” Aidan started, a warning in his voice.

Emma couldn’t tear her gaze away from Colin. “Have you?” she asked faintly.

“Of course,” Colin said, nearly shutting the door in Aidan’s face. “He’s never brought a woman to meet the family before.”

“Oh, it’s not like that,” Emma hastened to inform him. “I work for Aidan.” She glanced around; they stood in a foyer with stairs to her right. A doorway to her left revealed a living room, with a comfortable-looking couch and set of armchairs. In front of her was a hallway that led to the kitchen.

“We all work for Aidan,” Colin replied dryly, bringing her attention back to him.

“No, really,” she protested. She turned to Aidan. “Didn’t you explain to him?” She noticed his stormy expression and frowned.

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