My Wild Irish Dragon (4 page)

“No. It wasn't that. She had a boyfriend back in Ireland. I guess he followed her here and convinced her to go back with him.”

“Ah. So she still has family there,” Ryan said. “Where is Ballyhoo, exactly?”

Drake shrugged. “Somewhere on the coast, I guess. They said something about taking a fishing boat to Iceland. I guess they spent a few weeks there.”

“Iceland?” He sounded a little too shocked. He needed to keep it casual. “I thought Iceland was supposed to be beautiful. So how did they end up here?”

Drake laughed. “The language really tripped them up. Her brother said something about the eleven-letter words and odd consonants right next to each other. That would intimidate any English speaker.”

“Ah. So why didn't they just go back to Ireland?”

Drake shrugged. “There was probably a reason they left in the first place, but I don't know what it was. Anyway, in Iceland they upgraded to a bigger, better boat. They arrived by yacht.”

I'll be damned. She
is
fresh off the boat!

Suddenly Drake looked nervous, as if he'd said something he shouldn't have. “Don't say anything to her about it though. As an immigrant myself, I know it can be a touchy subject for some of us.”

“Immigrant? I never knew that. Where are you from?” Jayce asked.

“Maritime Canada.”

The guys around him laughed. “Yeah. You're real foreign,” Jayce said. “If not for the state of Maine, we'd be neighbors.”

Drake toasted to that and finished his beer. He had a wife and new baby to get home to, so he said his good-byes and left.

Ryan let this new knowledge roll around in his brain.
A fishing boat?
If Chloe liked to fish, they had something in common. The summer would be drawing to a close soon, so perhaps he'd suggest a fishing trip before the weather turned cold.

She can't storm off into the ocean if I come a little too close to the truth—or to her.

It was a good thing he'd run into Jayce. He shared ownership of their boat. Maybe they could make it a group thing and it would be less weird if more guys were invited. It wouldn't look like a date, which she'd refuse. But meeting some fellow firefighters might be a temptation she couldn't pass up.

“Hey, Jayce. What do you say? Want to go fishing this weekend?” he said loud enough for several of his brother's buddies to hear.

“Yeah, Jayce,” one named Mike said. “We're off this weekend. Why don't you go and invite me too?”

Perfect.
Meeting guys from the other houses wouldn't hurt him either. They never knew when a multiple-alarm fire might have them working together.

* * *

Chloe sensed a change in Ryan. He seemed confident—not that arrogant and conceited were different for him, but it was the
type
of confidence that seemed new. He was more self-assured. Less self-righteous. She found it a lot sexier than his bravado, unfortunately. If the man were any sexier, she might implode.

After that day's training, he didn't follow her to the parking lot. Instead he said good-bye to the other guys and then went straight to his Jeep. When he drove off without giving her a backward glance, she wondered why. And why did it matter to her?

Had she finally discouraged him? She should be glad—she hated worrying about letting a guy down easy. Her style was just to say, “See ya,” and go on her way.

Maybe she was getting a taste of her own medicine.

And she didn't like it.

As she drove home, she reminded herself why it was important not to get involved with him. They'd be working together. She knew any relationship was doomed anyway. Why start something she couldn't finish?

For the first time in hundreds of years, she cursed her grandmother. “Why the feck did you have to give me a diamond? Yeah, it's valuable, and maybe you were trying to tell me I'm too valuable to be held down by a bad marriage. But why isn't there a good one for me? Am I that impossible to live with?”

She ended her rant by realizing she probably was. Her siblings could put up with her because they'd learned how…and they'd had to. Family was an odd thing in Ireland. Brothers thought nothing of beating the tar out of each other, but add anyone with outside blood to the mix and watch how fast the brothers bonded and turned on the interloper—together.

Even marriage didn't change that. She loved her brother-in-law, Finn, but if he ever raised his voice, never mind his hand, to Shannon, he'd find both Rory and Chloe on him in a pile of fast-flying fists.

Irishmen and Irishwomen understood this on a subconscious level, even if they denied it. Blood—especially Irish blood—was much thicker than water.

Apparently Ryan had a lot of brothers. She wondered if the same held true for him and his siblings. Probably not. From what she'd seen, Americans seemed to weigh the pros and cons of an argument—then express themselves verbally. They rarely started fistfights in the streets. The laws were pretty strict against that here.

She chuckled as she remembered an argument between her apartment managers. She'd never witnessed anything so strange in her life.

They'd seemed to be having a staring contest. The wife had folded her arms and tapped her foot. The husband, with his hands on his hips, had just glared back. It wasn't until much later that Chloe had learned the two could communicate telepathically and were arguing their points in full view of everyone, with no one hearing a word.

Maybe she'd ask for that tea leaf reading from the wife/witch after all. Something about Ryan just didn't sit right with her. He wasn't acting as if he'd given up. He was acting as if he'd won!

Chloe parked the Zipcar in the Prudential Center's garage and strode home to her Beacon Street brownstone. She had planned to have dinner with Rory and Amber next door, but she was going to make a quick stop at home to change. If Morgaine had time for a reading, she'd call Amber and ask if dinner could wait a few.

When Chloe unlocked the front door, she was surprised to see Morgaine standing in front of her apartment.

“Is everything all right?”

Morgaine tipped her head. “I don't know. You tell me.”

Chloe's brows knit. “Excuse me?”

“My psychic senses were telling me you needed to talk to me. In fact, your unspoken request was so loud it was almost shouting.”

“Oh! I'm sorry. I was indeed thinking I'd like to talk to you. I guess I should think more…quietly?”

Morgaine chuckled. “Not at all. My senses pick up feelings, not volume. I sensed your need for my help might be urgent.”

“Again. I apologize if I accidentally… Feck. You know what? It's not an emergency, but whenever you're available…”

Morgaine smiled and held up a small fabric bag printed with stars and moons on a midnight-blue background. “I'm available now.”

Chloe felt a sense of relief wash over her as she unlocked apartment 2B and welcomed Morgaine inside.

Morgaine glanced around. “It looks nice. I haven't seen the place since your sister was here with you.”

“I think it doubled in size after she left.” Chloe chuckled. “It's a bit cramped for two, even two who are as close as sisters.”

Morgaine laughed. “Believe me, I know. I shared the apartment upstairs with my cousin before she moved across the hall.”

Chloe grinned. “And let's not forget Amber and Rory's mishap. Two total strangers claiming the same apartment and each refusing to leave.”

When they stopped laughing, Chloe put on the kettle and took out a box of her favorite tea. “I'm afraid I only have one kind of tea to offer you. I'm not used to having company.”

“Whatever you have will be perfect.” Morgaine hummed and shuffled her tarot cards. “Do you want to do this at the dinette?”

Chloe hadn't seen her take the cards out of the bag, but the empty velvet pouch hung from her wrist. She shuffled as if they were attached to each other, like a sleight-of-hand magician.

“Sure. Sit anywhere.”

Morgaine gracefully seated herself at one of four chairs around a glass-top table.

Chloe's stomach fluttered.
Do I really want to do this?

Morgaine set the cards in a pile and said, “Cut the deck.”

If Chloe wasn't intimidated by fire, she wouldn't let a little fortune-telling get the better of her. She reached over and picked up half the pile, and when Morgaine pointed to a spot on the table, she set them down beside the remaining cards.

“Did you want to ask a question or make a wish?” Morgaine put the small decks together and shuffled them again.

Chloe couldn't think of anything specific to ask…or even what she'd wish for. She shrugged. “I guess I'll just let you tell me whatever you see. How's that?”

“That's fine.”

Chloe would guess Morgaine was in her early thirties, but she seemed a lot older and wiser. Which was odd, simply because Chloe was
so
much older than everyone she knew except her brother, Rory—and her cousin Conlan.

Each branch of the Arish family tree had three dragons on it. The Ulster branch was made up of three males, the Erin branch had two females and one male. And going back a generation, their mutual grandparents had another male child, whom everyone had lost track of.

But the banner with three dragons upon it remained in their castle built into the cliffs of Ballyhoo.

Morgaine spread the cards across the table and said, “Turn over three. We'll just do a quick reading to see if you need more information. I know you have somewhere to be.”

“How did you…” She rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Psychic. I get it.”

Morgaine smiled and sat quietly while Chloe performed the task.

As soon as she'd flipped over her three cards, the teakettle began to whistle. “Excuse me.”

Morgaine gathered the cards and Chloe added tea to the pot, letting it steep. She gathered cups, saucers, biscuits, and napkins and set everything on a tray. She was glad there was a pass-through from the kitchen to the dining area, so she could set everything down within reach.

“Now what?” Chloe asked. “Drink tea or tell fortunes?”

“I'm good enough to do both at the same time.” Morgaine winked.

Chloe took the seat nearest the pass-through. “Great! So, what have you found out?”

Morgaine leaned back and folded her arms. “Have you heard the saying, ‘Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not following you'?”

“Someone's following me?” Chloe jumped up and rushed to the bay windows.

Morgaine reached out. “No. Oh no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anyone was literally following you. But someone is poking around your business, behind your back.”

Chloe growled. “Nobody pokes me backside without permission.”

Morgaine covered her mouth, but she was obviously trying to hide a smile. “Sorry. I just meant… Someone is interested in discrediting you. They may be digging into your background and trying to find some dirt.”

“Why? I'm not runnin' for office. Wait.” She slapped her forehead and returned to her chair. “It's probably the background check the fire department does on every employee.”

Morgaine frowned. “I thought you already started the job. Wouldn't they get that done before you were officially hired?”

“Yes. Of course. Everything checked out. No felonies…yet,” she added under her breath.

Morgaine snickered, then schooled her features. “I'm not making myself clear. This is happening now. There's deception involved.” She pointed to a card. “This card, plus my psychic warning bells going off, are sure this is not sanctioned activity.”

“In other words, I
should
be paranoid.”

Morgaine reached across the table and covered her hand. “Not at all. Just be aware. That's why people go to psychics in the first place. Everyone wants to know their future—and that's why I do what I do. It's important. Forewarned is forearmed.”

“Another American saying?”

“Yes. Although it translates to any country.”

Chloe nodded and mulled that over. Who could be delving into her background? Her immediate thought was Ryan…her rival. But what was the point, now that they'd both been hired?

Perhaps he was trying to discredit her before and forgot to call off the private detective or whatever… “I don't know. There was this bloke I was competing with for the job. They couldn't decide between us, so they got more funding and we were both hired.”

Morgaine straightened and tapped a card. “Yes. It has to do with your job. See this card? Swords indicate a war of some kind and the staff indicates work. The very next card is coins. Money is closely involved.”

Chloe took a good look at the cards. The swords were stabbing some poor schmuck in the back.
Shite. That poor schmuck is me!

* * *

Ryan had a small lounge in his parents' basement. Back when there were seven boys to house it was like a dormitory. Now it was a quiet place to study. But he couldn't keep his mind on the books.

He unfolded the picture he'd kept in his wallet for the past few years. It was from a Boston real estate magazine and included the view from floor-to-ceiling windows in a high-rise condo overlooking Boston Harbor. The picture had even gone to Afghanistan with him. His reduced rent at his parents' house was helping him save for that condo.

The following day the trainees would be sent into their first real fire. Granted, it was in a controlled setting, but they'd have the experience of using their equipment. But all he could think about was a slender blonde battling a blaze that could take her life.

Damn it. He
cared!
He didn't want to, but he had to admit it—at least to himself. Admitting it to anyone else would be probie suicide. He'd be transferred to another house before he started.

Yeah, they could run into each other again no matter where he was stationed in the city, especially if they picked up some overtime shifts. And he had to. The sooner he got out of his parents' basement, the better. If his fellow firefighters learned he was still living at home with mommy and daddy, he'd be teased mercilessly.

There were so many Fierros in the Boston Fire Department, they'd each been given a nickname. He'd be “Momma's Boy” for sure. He shuddered.

He wrenched his mind back to the book he was reading. He'd read it before. Hell, he'd practically cut his teeth on the binding.

It was no good. He tossed down the book and paced across the floor, raking his fingers through his hair.

What was it about her? He wanted to kiss her one minute and spank her the next.

He stopped in his tracks.
Oh…
A visual of her soft, round bum across his lap had him instantly hard.
Yeah, like that would
ever
happen.

“Christ!” he sputtered out loud. “Damn, infuriating, liberated woman…”

He heard his father's footfalls on the stairs. Quickly retaking his seat on the couch, he laid the open book over the telltale tent in his pants.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yeah. Everything's fine.”

“What were you shouting about?”

“Nothing.”

His father stood with his hands on his hips, just below the spare tire he'd been sporting since he'd retired.

“You didn't run into Melanie, did you?”

“Huh? No. I haven't seen her since we broke up.”

“Then there must be another infuriating woman you're upset with.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Why did you ask me what I said if you heard me loud and clear?”

His father shrugged. “Just thought you might elaborate. That's all.”

“Well, don't hold your breath. I'd rather not talk about this particular situation. At least not until I can take care of it.”

The elder Fierro raised an eyebrow. “It sounds like you might need some advice.”

“Not at all. What makes you say that?”

“I know you and I know women. You don't always think clearly when your heart is involved.”

Ryan reared back and laughed. “Not to make you feel foolish, but the only thing attracted to this chick sits way below my heart.”

“Interesting…”

He set the book on the coffee table. Clearly he wasn't going to get any studying done until he could convince his father he wasn't pining after some girl. “What do you mean by ‘interesting'?”

“Nothing.”

Shit. Now the old man was giving him back his own words.

“Look, I'll figure it out. Sometimes answers present themselves, if given time.”

His father smirked. “Don't take too much time. If you're panting after this one, chances are other guys are too.”

Fuck. Thanks, Dad.

* * *

The training went on for several weeks, and Chloe sat in the back row—as far from Ryan as she could get. One day, he turned and frowned at her.

Waving her fingers at him, she hoped to keep him off balance. She was on to him, and with Morgaine's warning in her mind, she wanted to keep her distance.

The instructor sketched out the fine points of the fires they were to face that day. He stressed that the second job that afternoon would be kept purposely short and vague. Dispatchers would give out all the information they had, but with only a passerby reporting, the first crew on the scene would be going in with precious few details.

Their first fire was to mimic an apartment building with an explosion reported on the third floor.

As soon as they'd suited up, Chloe bumped Ryan with her elbow and said, “First one to the elevator is a boiled egg.”

He laughed. “I think you mean ‘rotten egg.'”

She shrugged. “Rotten or not, if an egg survives the fire, it's gonna boil.”

The captain gave the order to enter the structure, and Ryan grabbed an ax and took off. His long legs carried him through the door first, but she was right on his heels. He was first on the stairs too.

Dammit.
She had hoped by planting the word “elevator” in his mind he'd try to use it. That was stupid.
Yeah, he might make a rookie mistake, but not that one.
She'd have to figure out something else later. Right now she had a fire to fight.

They encountered a number of locked doors. Chloe pounded on them and yelled, “Fire department. Everybody out!” A few opened and fellow firefighters representing civilians rushed out. She pointed out the safest exit, and the captain nodded his approval.

Some doors, however, remained shut and Ryan pounded harder and yelled louder. Their protective equipment worked well, but tended to muffle their speech. He lifted his airpack just enough to shout and then clamped it over his mouth again.

Damn him
. He was trying to show her up already. Well, she wouldn't let him. She grabbed the ax out of his hand and wielded it with near supernatural force, reducing the wooden door to splinters.

Ryan leaped through the hole and Chloe followed right behind him. They encountered a “body” on the floor. It was one of those deadweight dummies.

Ryan lifted the full-grown “man” properly and carried him over his shoulder while Chloe unlocked and opened the door wide. As he removed the body, a third firefighter joined her and she continued to the next closed door.

Her protective gear was working perfectly. She realized that Ryan may have fucked up already by trying to remove his, even for a second. In which case, she hadn't had to do a thing to trip him up.