"Did you?" She rolled, turning her white face and bleary eyes up to him and grasping at his hand. "Truly? God bless you, Aidan. The man's a saint, Jude. A saint, I tell you. There should be a monument to him in the square of Ardmore."

"When you get yourself on your feet, crawl down to the kitchen. I brought a jug along just in case." He gave Brenna a light kiss on the forehead. "Now where's my sister?"

"She's in my office, the second bedroom," Jude told him with what she hoped was cool dignity as she clutched the clothes to her breast.

"Is there much breakable in there?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Aidan straightened. "Just pay no mind to the screams and crashes. I'll do my best to keep the property damage to a minimum."

"What does he mean by that?" Jude hissed the question at Brenna the moment he was out of the room, even as she rushed to drag on the slacks.

"Oh." Brenna yawned hugely. "Just that Darcy doesn't wake cheerful."

At the first scream, Brenna clutched her head and moaned. Shocked, Jude yanked the sweater over her head and rushed toward the sound of the thumps and curses.

"Get your hands off me, you blackhearted baboon. I'll kick your ass from here to Tuesday."

"It's your ass that'll be kicked if you don't get it out of bed and to work, my girl."

If the words and the vicious tone in which they were delivered had shocked her, it was nothing to the visual impact. Jude burst into the room in time to see Aidan, his face grim and set, drag Darcy, dressed in nothing but her bra and panties, from the bed to the floor.

"Why, you brute! Stop that this minute!" Driven to protect her new friend, Jude leaped forward. The order and the movement managed to distract Aidan just long enough for Darcy to ball her fist, bare her teeth, and deliver a short-armed punch straight to his crotch.

Jude wasn't sure the sound he made was human. Torn between yet another layer of shock and a wave of pure female amusement that she wasn't the least bit proud of, she watched Aidan crumple to his knees and Darcy fall on him like a she-wolf.

"Ouch. Jesus! Bloody hell!" He did what he could to defend himself as his sister thumped, yanked, and bit exactly as he'd taught her, and still wheezing from that first blow, he finally managed to pin her.

"One of these days, Darcy Alice Mary Gallagher, I'm going to forget you're a female and plant one on you."

"Go ahead, you great bully." She thrust out her chin, blew her hair out of her eyes. "Plant one now."

"I'd likely break my hand on that face of yours. However pretty it is, it's stretched over a skull made of rock."

Then they were grinning at each other, and he was rubbing his hand over her face with what surely was as much affection as exasperation. Jude just kept staring as they got to their feet.

"Put some clothes on, you shameless hussy, and get in to work."

Darcy pushed at her tumbled hair and didn't seem in the least bothered by the recent tumble. "Jude, can I borrow the blue cashmere jumper?"

"Urn, yes, of course."

"Oh, you're a sweetheart, you are." She danced by, giving Jude a peck on the cheek. "Don't worry, I'll tidy up what I can before I go."

"Oh, well, that's all right. I'll make coffee."

"That would be lovely. Tea even better if you have it."

"Coffee?" Aidan said when Darcy had sauntered out the door. "I think you owe me a cup at least."

"Owe you?"

He stepped toward Jude. "That's the second time you've distracted me in battle and caused me to take a blow I'd have dodged otherwise. Oh, and very well you might bite your cheek to hold back the grin, but I see your eyes laughing clear enough."

"I'm sure you're mistaken." Jude looked deliberately aside. "But I'll make the coffee."

"And how's your head faring this morning?" he asked as he followed her out and down the stairs.

"It's fine."

He lifted a brow. "No ill effects due to squeezing a bit too much of the grape?''

"Maybe a little headache." She was too proud of it to be embarrassed. "I took some aspirin."

"I've better than that for you." He rubbed a hand casually over the back of her neck, miraculously hitting just the spot that made her want to purr, then moved to the counter as they entered the kitchen. The jar he picked up was filled with some dark and dangerous-looking red liquid.

"Gallagher's Fix. It'll set you up right and tight."

"It looks awful."

"Not a half-bad taste all in all, though some say it needs a bit of acquiring." He took a glass from the cupboard. "When a man serves drinks for a living, he's honor-bound to have a cure for the morning after."

"It's only a little headache." She studied the glass he poured dubiously.

"Then drink only a little, and I'll fix you some breakfast."

"You will?"

"A bit of this, a bit of that, and a little lie-me-down." He nudged the glass on her. She was a bit pale and her eyes were shadowed. He wanted to cuddle her until she felt herself again. "You'll wake up forgetting you had a hedonistic orgy last night."

"It wasn't an orgy. There weren't any men."

He grinned, fast and bright. "Next time invite me. Here now, sip a little and start the coffee, and some tea as well. I'll see to the rest."

It seemed like a nice connection to the evening to have a handsome man cooking breakfast in her kitchen. That was one more thing that had never happened to her before.

It was amazing, she thought, just how quickly, and how completely, a life could change. Jude sipped carefully, found the brew more tolerable than expected. Drinking the rest, she put on the kettle.

"Jude, you've no sausage. You've no bacon."

The quiet shock in his voice amused her. "No, I don't really eat it."

"Don't eat it? How do you cook breakfast?"

Because the shock wasn't so quiet now, she couldn't resist fluttering at him. Imagine, she thought, flirting before breakfast. "Usually by putting a piece of whole wheat bread in the toaster and pressing down the little lever."

"A single piece of toast?"

"And a half a grapefruit or a cup of whatever fresh fruit I have on hand. But now and then, I confess, I go wild and have an entire bagel with low-fat cream cheese."

"And this is what a sensible person calls breakfast?"

"Yes, a healthy one."

"Yanks," Aidan shook his head, as he took out eggs. "Why is it you think you'll live forever and why do you want to, I'd like to know, when you deny yourselves so many of the basic pleasures in life?"

"Somehow I manage to get through day after day without gnawing on greasy pig meat."

"A little testy in the morning, are we? Well, you wouldn't be if you'd eat a proper breakfast. But we'll do what we can for you."

She turned, prepared to snarl at him, but with the hand that wasn't holding the eggs, he cupped the back of her neck and nudged her up against him, then nipped her bottom lip. Before she'd recovered from that, he was following up the quick bite with a long, soft kiss that drained what few thoughts were left in her head.

"Do you have to do that before breakfast?" Brenna complained.

"Aye." Aidan ran that wonderful hand down Jude's spine, then up again. "And after, if I have my way about it."

"Bad enough you come in, stomping about and waking a body up." Scowling, and wearing the robe she'd wrapped herself in the night before, Brenna headed straight for the jar and poured some Gallagher's Fix into a glass. Gulping it down, she eyed Aidan narrowly. "Are you making breakfast then?"

"I'm about to. You're looking a bit peaked this morning, Mary Brenna. Do you want a kiss as well?"

She sniffed, then grinned at him. "I wouldn't mind it."

He obliged her by putting the eggs aside and stepping up to lift her off the floor by her elbows. When she whooped, he planted a loud, smacking kiss on her lips. "There you have it, and some roses back in your cheeks as well."

"That's from two punches of a fix by Gallagher," she said and made him laugh.

"We aim to please. Is my sister still on her feet?"

"She's in the shower, and still cursing you. As I would be if you weren't so free with your kisses."

"If God didn't want a woman's lips to be kissed, he wouldn't have made them so easy to reach. Are mere potatoes in the larder, Jude?"

"I think-yes."

Free with his kisses? She'd been warmly entertained watching the easy and affectionate byplay, but now she stood worrying about just what "free with his kisses" meant while Aidan scrubbed off some potatoes and put them in a pot to boil. Did that mean he just went around scooping up women with both hands? He certainly had the charm for it.

The skill for it.

The looks for it.

What did it matter? They didn't have what anyone would call a relationship. She didn't want a relationship. Not really.

She just wanted to know if she was one of a pack, or if-for once-she was something more special. Just once something special to someone.

"Where have you gone off dreaming?" Aidan asked her.

Jude jerked back, ordered herself not to flush. "Nowhere." She busied herself with the coffee and tried not to feel odd when Brenna rummaged through the cupboards for plates and flatware.

She'd never had people make themselves so easily at home in her house. It surprised her to realize she liked it. It made her feel a part of something friendly and simple.

It didn't matter if Brenna was efficient enough to intimidate a well-programmed robot. It didn't matter if Darcy was so beautiful every other woman looked dull by comparison.

It didn't even matter if Aidan kissed a hundred women before breakfast every day of the week.

Somehow within a few short weeks, they were her friends. And they didn't appear to expect her to be anything but what she was.