"It was empty. You get a better ring that way." She tossed her head, drew in a long breath, and let it out again with a satisfied huff. Shifting the tray, she turned toward the pass-through, and spotted Trevor.

Temper vanished from her face like magic. Though her eyes remained hot, they took on an unmistakable sexual edge. "Well, now, look who's come in out of the rainy evening." Her tone went to purr as she sauntered to the end of the bar. "Would you mind flipping up the pass-through, darling? I've my hands a bit full at the moment."

She'd been balancing trays one-handed more than half her life, but she liked to see him move. The hum in her throat was a sound of pure appreciation when he slid off the stool and walked over to do as she'd asked.

"It's nice to be rescued by a strong, handsome man."

"Mind yourself, Trev, there's a viper under that comely face." This was Shawn's opinion, and he gave it a bit testily as he came out to serve another pair of orders at the bar.

"Pay no attention to the babblings of our pet monkey." She sent one steely stare over her shoulder. "Our parents, being kindhearted, bought him from a traveler family-gypsies, you'd say. A waste of two pounds and ten, if you're asking me."

With a twitch of hip she walked off to deliver her orders.

"That was a good one," Shawn murmured. "She must've been saving it up. Good evening to you, Trev. Are you looking for a meal?"

"I guess I'll try the stew. I've heard it's good tonight."

"Aye." With a rueful smile, Shawn rubbed the bump on his head. His gaze drifted to the side where the young boy teased out a livelier tune. "You've come on a good evening. Connor there can play like an angel or a demon, depending on the mood."

"I've yet to hear you play." Trevor settled on his stool again. "I'm told that, like the stew, it's good."

"Oh, I've a bit of a hand with it. We all do. Music's part of the Gallagher way."

"Just a bit of advice, on your music. Get an agent."

"Oh, well." Shawn looked back, met Trevor's eyes. "You're paying me a good price for the songs you've bought so far. I trust you to be fair. You've an honest face."

"A good agent would squeeze out more."

"I've no need for more." He glanced over at Brenna. "I've everything already."

With a baffled shake of his head, Trevor picked up the beer Aidan set in front of him. "Finkle said you weren't a business-minded man. But I have to say you're not anywhere near as dim as he led me to believe. No offense."

"None taken."

Trevor watched Shawn over the rim of his mug. "Finkle said you kept getting him confused with another investor, a restaurateur from London."

"Did he now?" Amusement twinkled in Shawn's eyes. "Imagine that. Aidan, do we know anything about a restaurant man from London who'd have been interested in connecting to the pub here?"

Aidan tucked his tongue in his cheek. "I seem to recall Mr. Finkle bringing that matter to my attention, though I assured him there was no such person at t'all. Fact is," Aidan continued after a weighty pause, "we, all of us, went to great pains to assure him of it."

"That's what I thought." Impressed, Trevor took a deep gulp of Guinness. "Very slick."

Then he heard Darcy laugh, quick and bright, and turned to see her rub her hand over the boy Connor's head. She left it there, her eyes sparkling on his as she began to sing.

It was a fast tune, with lyrics tumbling into each other. He'd heard it before, in the pubs of New York or when his mother was in the mood to listen to Irish music, but he'd never heard it like this. Not in a voice that seemed soaked in rich wine with gold at the edges.

He'd had the report from Finkle, and there had been mention of Darcy's singing voice. In fact, the man had rhapsodized about it. Trevor hadn't put any stock in that issue. As his pet business was a recording company, he knew how often voices were praised through the roof when they deserved no more than polite applause.

Listening now, watching now, Trevor admitted he should have given his scout more credit.

When she came back into the chorus, Shawn leaned on the bar and matched his voice to hers. There was a laugh in the music of it as she wandered back toward the bar, and laying a casual hand on Trevor's shoulder, sang straight to her brother.

"I'll tell me ma when I go home the boys won't leave the girls alone."

No, Trevor imagined, the boys had never left this one alone. He had an urge to pull her hair himself, but not in the playful manner the song indicated. No, to fill his hands with it, pull it back, and feast on her.

Thousands of men, he imagined, would react the same way. The notion appealed to his business side even as it irked on a personal level. Since jealousy made him feel ridiculous, he concentrated on the business angle.

When the song was over, she reached over the bar to grab Shawn by the collar and haul him halfway across it for a loud kiss. "Moron," she said, with obvious affection.

"Shrew."

"Three fish and chips, two stews, and two portions of your porter cake. Now back into the kitchen where you belong." She ran her hand absently across Trevor's shoulder as she turned to Aidan. "Three pints each Guinness and Harp, a glass of Smithwick's, and a pair of Cokes. The one Coke's for Connor, so there's no charge. Do you mind?" she said to Trevor, and picked up his pint for a small sip.

"So, do you take requests?"

"Hmm. I'm here to do nothing but."

"Sing another."

"Oh, it's likely I will before the evening's done." She transferred the drinks that were poured onto her tray.

"No, now." He pulled a twenty-pound note out of his pocket, held it up between two fingers. "A ballad this time."

Her gaze shifted from his face to the bill, then back again. "That's a considerable tip for a bit of a tune."

"I'm rich, remember?"

"That's something I haven't forgotten." She reached out for the twenty, narrowed her eyes when he jerked it away.

"Sing it first."

She considered ignoring him on principle and perhaps a little spite. But it was twenty pounds, and singing wasn't a trial to her. So she smiled at him, then lifted her voice as she lifted her tray.

Come all ye maidens young and fair / All you that are blooming in your prime / Always beware and keep your garden fair / Let no man steal away your thyme.

Connor picked up the melody, flushing a bit when she winked at him and served his soft drink. She served the others as well, singing as she did a song of regret and the loss of innocence. Conversations hushed, and more than a few hearts sighed. Because he was paying for it, she looked at Trevor as she walked back to the bar. She gave the last lines to him.

Satisfaction warmed her eyes when applause broke out. It gleamed there as she nipped the bill from his hand. "At twenty each, I'll sing as many tunes as you like." Then taking the Guinnesses Aidan had finished, she moved off to serve them.

"Hell, I'll do one for half that," someone called out, and over a roar of laughter, began on "Biddy Mulligan."

"There's formal music over the weekend," Aidan told Trevor. "And Gallagher's pays the band."

"I'll check it out." He watched Darcy go back behind the bar, into the kitchen. "Do the three of you ever play together?"

"Shawn and Darcy and myself? At ceilis now and again, or in here for a bit of fun. I sang for my supper a time or two when I was traveling. It can be a hard life."

"Depends on the booking."

Trevor stayed another hour, nursing his pint, enjoying his stew, and listening to the apparently tireless Connor play tune after tune.

He got up once to open the door for a couple who each had a sleeping child over a shoulder. It was families, he noted, who left for home, and a couple of men with weather-beaten faces. Fishermen, he imagined, who would be up before dawn to head out to sea.

Food orders began to taper off after nine o'clock, but the taps ran steadily as he rose to go.

"Are you calling it a night, boss?" Brenna called out.

"Yeah. Until I find out what vitamins you're taking that keep you going strong for fifteen hours' work."

"Ah, it's not vitamins." She leaned over to pat the gnarled hand of the old man who'd sat on the same stool for hours. "It's being near my true love, Mr. Riley, here that keeps me going."

Riley let out a cackle. "Come give us a last pint, then, my darling, and a kiss to go with it."

"Well, the pint will cost you, but the kiss is free." She glanced back at Trevor as she drew it. "I'll see you in the morning."

"I need to borrow your sister a minute," Trevor told Aidan, then took Darcy's hand before she could move past him. "It's your turn to walk me out."

"I suppose I can spare you a minute." She set down her tray and, ignoring Aidan's frown, strolled to the door.

The rain was a fine mist that drenched the air. Smoky drifts of fog crept in from the sea to crawl along the ground. Through it came the steady beat of the water, and the far-off call of a horn as a boat passed in the night.

"Ah, it's cool." Closing her eyes, Darcy lifted her face to the thin rain. "It gets stuffy in there by this time of night."

"Your feet must be killing you."

"I won't deny they could use a good hard rub."

"Come back with me, and I'll give them my attention."

She opened her eyes at that. "Now, sure and that's a tempting offer, but I've work yet, then I need my sleep."

He lifted her hand to his lips as he had once before. "Come to the window in the morning."

She didn't mind the way her heart gave one hard thud, or the tingle low in her belly. She was a woman who believed in enjoying sensations, in savoring every one of them. But she had to think past that and remember how the game was played.