Page 62 of Edge of Whispers

“Well. Until you get one, maybe you’d just better?—”

“Think it through, Nancy,” he said. “If the cops catch me carrying concealed, they’ll give me a really hard time. If the bad guys catch me without it, they’ll kill me, and take you. Which of those two scenarios scares you more?”

My belly contracted into a hard knot. I hugged my knees to my chest.

Liam sat down beside me and put his arm around my shoulders. “It’s just a precaution,” he said. “I’m sorry it upsets you. But I’ll feel better carrying it.”

I leaned into his hug. We clung to each other. The patch of sun on the floor had moved all the way across the room to the wall by the time he lifted his head.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“That’s the second time you’ve asked,” I commented. “I’m thinking you’re definitely hungry. Am I right?”

“Starving,” he said promptly. “Haven’t eaten since before the seisiún last night.”

Hmmm. I hadn’t eaten since that sandwich at the diner, which was the morning before that, but he would almost certainly have something critical to say about it.

“You poor thing,” I said. “Wasting away. Why didn’t you say something?”

“Didn’t seem important until now,” he said. “Lucky for us, I fixed the neighbor lady’s porch steps a month ago, and she gave me a lifetime supply of frozen pot roast stew. She’s an artist when it comes to pot roast. Get dressed.”

“Why? It feels good to be naked. Are you expecting company?”

“Eoin’s around here somewhere,” he warned. “I’m sure he has the good sense to keep his distance, but there are no curtains on the kitchen window.”

That convinced me to clothe myself. We freshened up in his bathroom, pulled on our clothes and went down to feast in Liam’s big kitchen on rich, savory beef stew, sourdough toast, crisp apples, and wedges of cheese.

I ate with appetite. Having a man stare at me like that made me giddy. I practiced my femme fatale act, licking fruit juice off my fingers, and was gratified when he dragged me right back up to the bedroom for another passionate collision in his bed.

I could get used to this. Hell, maybe I could even get good at it.

Chapter Twenty

Nancy

The day passed in a lazy blur of caresses, embraces, meals—and then caresses and embraces all over again. The revolver sat on the bedside table, a small, dark sentinel, grimly reminding me of the fear and violence that lurked outside this magic bubble.

But it didn’t intrude. Liam’s place felt safe. Home free.

The sun was low and the window pink with sunset clouds when I opened my eyes and found him twirling a lock of my hair and staring into my face.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked.

“Lucia,” he said. “I was thinking of her showing me your picture. I feel honored.”

I blinked at him. “By what?”

“That Lucia thought I was good enough for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please,” I said. “I loved that woman tremendously, but I’m still furious with her for setting me up like that.”

He propped his head up on one hand. “What’s so mortifying about it? She wanted you to be happy, right? What’s the harm?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Lucia never quite grasped one of the basic laws of the animal kingdom.”

“And what law might that be?”

I let out a sigh. “Men only want what they can’t have,” I told him. “They chase things that run. Babbling about my availability is like the kiss of death.”

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