Page 41 of Her Irish Treasures
“Fuck.” Aidan grimaced, the formidable crack he always had between his eyes deepening into a Grand Canyon crevice. “No way can we take her there.”
I yawned again, snuggling up against Doran’s mighty chest. “Where do you live? It can’t be that bad.”
“Above the tattoo parlor.” Keane tugged on his gloves, preparing to step back out into the real world. No one ever went away from him unsatisfied… which meant his touch was orgasmic.
Every muscle in my body shivered with the delightful memory of his touch and kiss. But yeah, I was too tired to even think about round two now.
“It’s a place where a bunch of men sleep in between battles,” Aidan added. “Not just us, but the rest of the Demon Hunters men who don’t have a place of their own. It’s a motherfucking dumpster heap.”
“The warehouse?” Warwick offered. “It’s mostly empty, plenty of space, and there’s a bed she can use to rest.”
Doran’s chest rumbled beneath my ear like distant thunder. “Riann needs to rest in comfort and safety. Not in a war camp or an empty, cold a warehouse, for fuck’s sake. What have you bleedin’ idjits been doing with yourselves all these centuries? Have you no gold or property accumulated to accommodatemo stórfor even one night?”
“We invested everything in weapons,” Aidan retorted. “You were gone. The treasurekeeper, dead or lost. Cycle after cycle after cycle. We focused on killing as many of the fucking demons as we could and called that good enough until we were slaughtered to start anew.”
I was so tired their words started to blur, and I could barely mumble myself. “I’ll just sleep here. Even though you’re as hard as a rock.”
Doran shifted me in his arms, cradling me like a baby. “Have you no mortal bed here, Greenshanks?”
“Only the bar, sorry to say.”
I blinked fiercely, trying to pry my eyeballs open. “How about the Summer Isle?”
No one said anything. For a moment, I thought I really had gone to sleep. But no, they were staring at me.
“Faerie be a dangerous place,mo stór,” Warwick said.
I frowned. “You said you’d love to show it to me someday. Why not now?”
“Damn me traitorous tongue.” He smiled apologetically at the other men as he wiped the bar and removed their drinks. “Sorry, lads. I didn’t mean to put that bee in her bonnet.”
At least being confused helped me wake up a little more. Not to mention hurt. Maybe he’d just thrown out that offer earlier, not ever intending to take me to his home. A polite lie thrown out casually in a conversation. He hadn’t meant—
:Never,:he whispered in my head.:I meant every word.:
“Then why?” I whispered, blinking back tears. My eyes were gritty. I wanted a bath. I wanted to sleep for a week.
“Most mortals never set foot into Faerie at all,” Doran said. “This here bar be fairly safe. I sat on the shelf watching Warwick’s trade for centuries, and only a handful of humans ever found their way inside. They all went home after a pleasant pint. But this place is on the fringe of Faerie. One foot on either side of the veil, so to speak. It’s understood to be neutral.”
“Aye, so it is,” Warwick replied. “I’ve served fae both dark and light, though mark my words. If Evil Eye asked for a pint, I’d throw him out, his terrible eye be damned.”
“There be rules,” Aidan said with a grim slant to his lips. “Fae be fucking dangerous at any time, but in their own land, it’s naught but trickery and illusion.”
It took a few minutes for my exhausted brain to finally read between the lines.They don’t trust the leprechaun.Even though we just fucked on top of his bar.
Warwick had helped us free Doran, and in the beginning, he’d been the only one willing to help me. I’d had to fucking steal Aidan’s motorcycle to get his attention. All I’d had to do was walk intoShamrockedaccidentally, and Warwick had been on my side, eager to help.
Too eager?
Why didn’t they trust him enough to allow me to go to his home?
I lifted my head, forcing my bleary eyes to focus on Warwick. The sexy bartender who’d been my first introduction to Faerie. The leprechaun who’d started growing his hair down to his waist—and swore it’d be to the floor if I wanted it—simply to please me.:Why don’t they trust you?:
:It’s complicated. Let’s just say my reputation precedes me.:
Doran looked down at me, his eyes narrowed. “What is it,mo stór?”
And it dawned on me.
