Page 42 of Beer & Broomsticks
No one.
She smelled the fresh, bracing scent of the ocean as a breeze swept across her neck and shoulders. With a small shiver from the chill, she turned to make sure the hall windows were closed, giving another little shudder when she saw they were.
Unsure what caused the fluttering wind, she tentatively made her way down the hallway. From the corner of her eye, she again saw a flickering yellow light. It was either wee wicked faeries out to cause mischief, or she was losing her feckin’ mind. Still, she decided to follow.
When the dancing light became a solid, pulsing glow at Ruairí’s door, Bridget had a moment’s hesitation before entering. Perhaps it wasn’t the fae after all, but Anu come to tell her not to be so quick to weave fantasies where he was concerned.
Hand on the knob, Bridget inhaled deeply, prepared to go in and face whatever might be on the other side. The door to the next room opened, and Ronan filled the entry. His surprised expression turned to a wicked grin, and she felt the heat warm her from head to toe.
“Is there a woman you don’t get with that feckin’ look?” she asked irritably. She gasped when she realized she’d spoken the question aloud.
He laughed and lounged against the wall, arms crossed and decided amusement on his ungodly handsome face. “Oh, there would be a few. Like the one in front of me, mad for my cousin, Ruairí.”
“I’m not mad for him!” Her denial was too swift and an obvious falsehood, which they both knew. “Oh, feck off,” she grumbled, dropping her hand from the door handle as if she’d been burned.
“Don’t let me stop you from your…” He nodded toward Ruairí’s room. “I’m all for helping this little romance along this time around.”
“That’s not the impression I get from that knicker-melting smile.” She frowned when he laughed. “Sure, and now I see the resemblance to Ruairí. That bleedin’ O’Connor charm.”
She had to give him credit for trying to suppress his grin, but the dimple in his left cheek gave him away. With one last frustrated glance at the door, she turned on her heel to head the opposite way.
Ruairí was standing about ten feet away, his eyes wary.
What did he have to be worried about?Was there something in his room he didn’t want her to see? Another false clue for his fake treasure hunt?
“I’d decided to check if you need help,” he said by way of an explanation.
She had none for her suspicious behavior other than the truth. “I saw a flickering yellow light by your door.”
His surprised gaze shot to the door in question. “Anu.”
Bridget spun back, expecting to see the Goddess herself, but no one was there.
All amusement left Ronan’s face as he straightened from his lounging position and backed away from the wall. “Ya sure?”
“As I can be,” Ruairí replied grimly.
“And why would she be flitting around my inn?” Bridget asked, the slight tremble to her voice giving away her concern.
“I guess we need to find out,” Ronan said as he approached the door.
“No!”
But it was too late.
CHAPTER18
Ruairí’s heart plummeted to his stomach as his cousin whipped open the door. The wardrobe on the far side of the room was lit like a topper on a Christmas tree, casting a warm glow over the rest of the room.
Bridget hung back by the opposite wall. “Why would Anu be hidin’ in the wardrobe?”
“Goddesses don’t hide in closets,” an amused voice said from behind the three of them, causing Ruairí to shout and spin, fist raised, and Ronan to lift his hands and prepare for battle.
When they saw it was Alexander, they calmed and relaxed their stances.
“Those are some quick reflexes you fellas have. I’m sorry it ever came to that,” he said with real regret in his eyes.
“Sure, and we’re not fond of people sneakin’ up on us,” Ronan countered, shaking his hands out and dispersing his magic.
