"Well, now, I'll admit I've always half wanted to just because it's never been managed. And he broke mine some time back."

"Aidan broke your nose?" It was appalling. It was fascinating.

"Not on actual purpose," Jack qualified. "We were fifteen and playing football and one thing led to another. Aidan's never been much of a one for bloodying his mates unless-"

"One thing leads to another?"

"Aye." Jack beamed at her. "And I don't think he's had himself a good mix-up in months. Due for one most like, but he's too busy courting you to find time for a scuffle."

"He isn't courting me."

Jack pursed his lips on an expression caught between concern and puzzlement. "Aren't you sweet on him, then?"

"I-" How did she answer that? "I like him very much. I'd better get you that pint. It's nearly closing time."

"You've been run off your feet," Aidan said when he closed the door behind the last straggler. "Sit down now, Jude, and I'll get you a glass of wine."

"I wouldn't mind it." She had to admit it had been work.

Delightful but exhausting. Her arms ached from carting heavy trays. It was no wonder, she decided, that Darcy's arms were so beautifully toned.

And her feet, it didn't bear thinking about how much her feet were throbbing.

She sank onto a stool, rolled her shoulders.

In the kitchen Shawn was cleaning up and singing about a wild colonial boy. The air was blue with smoke, and ripe still with the smells of beer and whiskey.

She found it all very homey.

"If you decide to give up psychology," Aidan said as he set a glass in front of her. "I'm hiring."

Nothing he said could have pleased her more. "I did all right, didn't I?"

"You did brilliantly." He took her hand, kissed it. "Thanks."

"I liked it. I haven't given that many parties. They make me so nervous. The planning keeps me in a constant state of anxiety. Then the hostessing, making sure everything's running smoothly. This was like giving a party without all the nerves. And-" She jingled the coins in her apron pocket. "I got paid."

"Now you can sit and tell me about your day in Dublin while I clean up here."

"I'll tell you about it while I help you clean up."

He decided not to risk her good mood by arguing again, but intended to have her do nothing more complex than clearing empties and setting them on the bar. But she was quicker than he'd thought and had her sleeves rolled up while he was still dealing with behind-the-bar work and the till.

With a pail and a rag she'd gotten from Shawn, she began to mop down the tables.

He listened to her, the way her voice flowed up and down as she described what she'd seen and what she'd done that day. The words weren't so important, Aidan thought. It was just so soothing to listen to her.

She seemed to bring such blessed quiet with her wherever she went.

He started on the floors, working around and with her. It was amazing, he mused, how smoothly she slid into his rhythm. Or was he sliding into hers? He couldn't tell. But it seemed so natural, the way she clicked into his place, his world. His life, for that matter.

He'd never pictured her carting trays or making change. Of course it wasn't what she was meant for, but she'd done it well. A lark for her, he supposed. She certainly wasn't fashioned to be wiping up spilled beer every night. But she did so with such practical ease he had an urge to cuddle her.

When he followed it, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her back against him, she settled right in.

"This is nice," she murmured.

"It is, yes. Though I'm keeping you up late doing dirty work."

"I like it. Now that everything's quiet, and everyone's gone home to bed, I can think about what Kathy Duffy said to me, or the joke Douglas O'Brian told, and listen to Shawn singing in the kitchen. In Chicago I'd be sleeping by now, after finishing papers and reading a chapter of a good book that received bright literary reviews."

She closed her hands over his, relaxed. "This is much better."

"And when you go back-" He laid his cheek on the top of her head. "Will you find a neighborhood pub and spend an evening or two there instead?"

The thought of it brought a dark, thick wall shuttering down on her future. "I have lots of time before that's an issue. I'm enjoying learning to go day by day."

"And night by night." He turned her, glided her into a waltz that followed the tune Shawn was singing.

"Night by night. I'm a terrible dancer."

"But you're not." Hesitant was what she was, and not yet sure of herself. "I watched you dance with Shawn, then kiss him in front of God and country."

"He said it would make you boil with jealousy."

"So it might have if I didn't know I could beat him senseless if need be."

She laughed, loving the way the room revolved as he circled her. "I kissed him because he's pretty and he asked me. You're pretty, too. I might kiss you if you asked me."

"Since you're so free with your kisses, let me have one."

To tease-and wasn't it wonderful she'd discovered she could tease a man-she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. Then placed another, just as soft, on his other cheek. When he smiled, when he circled her, she slid her hand from his shoulder into his hair, and keeping her eyes on his, rose to her toes to press her lips warmly to his.

This time it was his body that jerked. She ruled the kiss, taking him unawares, moving it from warm to hot, from soft to deep, sighing so that his mouth, his blood, his brain were filled with the taste of her.

Staggered, he fisted his hand at the back of her blouse and let her strip his mind clean.

"Looks as if it's past time for me to leave."

Aidan lifted his head. "Lock up as you go, Shawn," he said without taking his eyes off Jude's face.

"I will. Good night to you, Jude."

"Good night, Shawn."

Whistling now, he clicked locks and discreetly closed the door behind him while Aidan and Jude stood in the middle of the freshly mopped floor.

"I have a terrible need for you." He drew the hand he still held to his mouth, kissed it.

"I'm so glad."

"It makes it hard, now and again, to be gentle."

"Then don't be." Excitement spurted through her in one hot gush. Thrilled with her own boldness, she stepped back and began unbuttoning her blouse. "You can be whatever you want. Have whatever you want."

She'd never undressed in front of a man, not in a way designed to arouse. But the nerves that jumped in her belly were tangled with excitement, then swallowed by pure female delight as she saw his eyes go dark.

The black lace bra was cut low, an erotic contrast against the milky skin it was designed to showcase.

"Jesus." He let out an unsteady breath. "You're trying to kill me."

"Just seduce you." She toed off her shoes. "It's a first for me." More from inexperience than design, she slowly unhooked her trousers. "So- I hope you'll excuse any missteps."

His mouth went dry with anticipation of what was next. "I see nothing missing at all. Seems to me you're a natural at it."

Her fingers were a little stiff, but she pried them away and let the trousers fall. More black lace, an excuse for a triangle that veed down over the belly and rose high on the hips.

She hadn't had the nerve to try the matching garter and sheer black hose Darcy had talked her into, but seeing the expression on Aidan's face, she thought she would next time.

"I did a lot of shopping today."

He wasn't sure he could speak. She stood in the pub lights, her hair tidied back, her sea goddess eyes dreamy, wearing nothing but black lace that screamed sex.

Which part of her was a man supposed to listen to?

"I'm afraid to touch you."

Jude braced herself, then stepped out of the trousers and toward him. "Then I'll touch you." Heart hammering, she slid her arms around his neck and lifted her mouth to his.

It was so arousing to press up against him when she was all but naked and he still fully dressed. It was so powerful to feel his body quiver against hers as if he were fighting some fierce and violent urge.

It was so freeing to realize she wanted him to set that fierceness, that violence, loose.

"Take me, Aidan." She nipped his bottom lip and all but slithered against him. "Take whatever you want."

He heard his own control snap like a cannon boom inside his head. He knew he was rough and could do nothing about it as his hands bruised and his mouth feasted. Her gasp of shock was only more fuel as he dragged her to the floor.

He rolled with her, wild to have his hands on her, everywhere. Mad for more, he closed lips and teeth over the lace at her breast.

She arched up, bowed with pleasure, tingling from the nip of pain. It was power that flooded into her, the punch of the knowledge that she had pushed him beyond the civilized.

Just by being. Just by offering.

As crazed as he to touch, she tugged and tore at his shirt until she had her hands on flesh.

Then her lips, then her teeth.

Hot and frantic, with greedy hands they drove each other, pleased and pleasured. This wasn't the patient man and the shy woman, but two who had stripped down to the primitive. She gloried in it, absorbing each sharp sensation and fighting to give it back.

The first orgasm burst through her like a sun.

More was all he could think. More and still more. He wanted to eat her alive, to devour so that the suddenly wild taste of her would always be inside him. Each time her body shuddered, each time she cried out, he thought again. And again and again.

The need to mate was a fever in his blood. He plunged into her, his pace all the more frenzied when she came and called out his name. Then she was rising and falling with him, driving even as she was driven. His vision hazed so that her face, her eyes, her tumbled hair were behind a soft mist.