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LENGTH: Full Novel
SENSUALITY: Sensual

Cover art (c) Jenny Dixon
ISBN 1-58608-444-5
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Seamus Gallagher is a man with secrets--big secrets that would draw public attention if they became known. He’s not about to let that happen, but the annoying, irritating, and utterly delectable Aislyn keeps getting in his way, upsetting his plans for the future and shaking his world until he doesn’t know up from down.

Rating: Contains sexual content.

AISLYN

By

Shelley Munro

© copyright May 2004, Shelley Munro

Cover art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright May 2004

New Concepts Publishing

5202 Humphreys Rd.

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

CHAPTER ONE

Duty called.

Seamus Gallagher’s eyes shot open the second the thought registered. He wrestled his nightmare battered body from tangled sheets and crawled out of bed. One look in the mirror elicited a grunt. He’d felt better. But instinct gnawed at his gut, urging him to speed.

Human side or the fairy colony?

Concentration made his head pound. Had Hone reported in? Or had Aislyn O’Sullivan pulled another prank and upset the board of directors in the fairy colony? Closing his eyes allowed the drummer in his head to perform a solo complete with a laser lighting extravaganza. That would teach him to go out for a night on the town with Gill. Biting back a groan, he snatched up his cell phone. No messages.

That decided it. Not a police callout. Guardian duties on the fairy side.

He checked his wristwatch. If he hurried, he’d have time to visit the colony before meeting his partner, Gill, at Auckland Central police station.

Ten minutes later, he strode out his back door into the wild jungle he called a garden. He headed down a narrow pathway that led into the tangle of overgrown ferns, trees and shrubs. The gravel crunched under his boots as he skirted the puddles created by last night’s rainstorm. Already, the sun shone brightly and steam drifted upward off the mounds of fallen leaves beside the path. As he neared the portal, caution made him pause. A quick glance over his shoulder reassured him that apart from the fantail flitting through the tree tops, he was alone. Seamus muttered an incantation in the old language of the Celtic tribes from Mother Ireland. In the empty space before him, a shimmering portal formed--the doorway from his garden in Auckland to Glenveagh, the fairy village in the colony beyond. Hell’s teeth, it hurt to look at the damned thing.

Seamus stepped through the fiery blue-white light even as he fumbled in his pocket for sunglasses. Melodic Gaelic tripped off his tongue then he groaned. Displacement was normal, the nausea and starbursts of white hot pain through his head were not. Seamus clapped his hand over his forehead and gritted his teeth as he shrank to half the size of a Jim Beam bottle. God’s balls. He wasn’t going to touch the stuff again in a hurry. Deep breaths. In. Out. Gradually his insides realigned and feeling marginally better, he clicked his fingers in a rapid staccato code. The portal vanished.

He strode down the winding path that lead to Glenveagh. In the village square, young fairlings played tag, racing about with shrieks of laughter. He stopped abruptly to avoid collision with a blond youngster. A few feet away fairies gossiped while examining potatoes and squeezing melons at Marion’s market stall. Seamus smothered a grin. Marion was ready to pounce. They’d better watch out.

At the far end of the square, a group huddled in vehement discussion. While Seamus wondered what the problem was every shop and civic building in the square altered color. The whitewashed walls changed to a buttercup yellow. Voices rose in heated debate. As he watched, yellow buildings changed to a hot pink that dazzled the eyes. Seamus suppressed his smile. Ever since the O’Brien clan had returned from Ireland marveling at the colored cottages, the beautification idea had spread like a smallpox epidemic. Amusement turned to a grin. The board had a fight on their hands if they wanted to stick with plain old white buildings.

Seamus glanced at the familiar faces in the square, searching for Aislyn. He was checking to make sure she was all right. That’s all. He’d promised her brother he’d keep an eye on her so he was ... Hell’s teeth! Who was he trying to fool? His whole body hummed with the urgent need to see her.

Knowing his time was limited, he rubbed the Guardian’s silver amulet that circled his right bicep, summoning Aislyn’s likeness in his mind. That would send him directly to Aislyn instead of wasting time. Two seconds later, he materialized on the far side of the village, near the stock yards. He saw Rory talking to someone inside the ‘fly chute. A frantic neigh rent the air. Timber creaked. Clouds of dust rose from the chute.

Seamus scanned the arena and frowned. Aislyn wasn’t here. The amulet had failed. Again. Gary, his assistant, kept telling him to send it to the French colony for repair.

Probably for the best anyway. Aislyn unsettled him.

Made him want the impossible.

Seamus snorted and it was a cynical sound. Two hundred years ago, after a war that had decimated the fairy colonies, the clans had signed a treaty. No magic for financial gain. That meant they couldn’t manufacture riches with magic. Each colony had to earn their way with trade. Seamus snorted again.

His path was set.

Hell--the New Zealand colony’s finances were a mess. The Guardian had to marry money. And since he was ‘it’ that meant he was marrying for money. That was the first obstacle. Then there was good old Dad. Or rather his father’s cock up. The jet-setting lifestyle his father had maintained during his term of Guardianship had sucked the colony dry. The cat attacks and the six fairy deaths on the Northern boundary had been a direct result of his father’s skimping on security to fuel his entertainment fund. Seamus felt obliged to make restitution for his father’s sins.

Face it. Aislyn was an unattainable dream, and he was a bloody fool. He was stuck with the Guardian role.

Loyalty and promises.

Responsibility.

Duty.

No matter what, the colony came first.

There wasn’t anyone else available to take over the role of leading the colony into the next century. Seamus was the only one who had the experience on the human side that the colony needed if they were to survive.

Yeah, duty and responsibility. Pushing aside his futile yearnings, Seamus stepped up to the wooden railings, slid off his sunglasses, and settled in to watch the show.

* * * *

Aislyn glanced at Rory as he peered up through the sturdy wooden gate.

"Are you ready, lass?" His wrinkled face bore concern, but at least he’d stopped trying to talk her out of the ride.

Inside the chute, Aislyn gave a clipped nod. She clamped a black cap on top of her head and waited, her stomach jitterbugging with nerves.

"On the count of three, lass. One."

A shuddering breath filled her lungs to capacity.

"Two."

Aislyn tightened her grip on the reins, wrapped her slim legs around the streamlined body that quivered with fury beneath her and leaned back in the saddle.

"Three!"

The gate shot open with a protesting creak. Muscles bunched beneath her, and a bad-tempered neigh exploded from the dragonfly as it sprang from the chute. Aislyn’s body jerked. She ignored the protesting shake of taut muscles and clung more tightly, determined to emerge the winner in this battle of wills.

She had to win--she just had to.

The dragonfly skewed to the left, bucked and twisted mid-air. Sides heaved in exertion, wings flapping frantically. One jolting buck merged into another. Aislyn’s whole body jarred with each powerful surge. Her head snapped back. Her teeth rattled. She could do this. Eight seconds wasn’t that long....

The brief lapse in concentration proved all the edge her opponent required. Aislyn sailed over the dragonfly’s head, landing in the dusty arena with a bone-crunching thump.

Aislyn sucked hoarsely for breath. Rat’s tails! Failure when the honeyed taste of success had been so close. Close enough to touch. She tried a tentative movement. A jagged shaft of pain shot up her leg, radiating outward. She gasped as every bone in her body protested the abuse. The sound of running feet beat in unison with her head.

"Aislyn, sweetheart. Are you all right?"

A stupid question. Totally idiotic. Was she all right? Huh! Aislyn didn’t recognize the strong brogue, but suspected it was Rory rushing to her aid and her hearing was fuzzy from the fall. Was she all right? Of course she wasn’t!

She’d failed to last the required eight seconds.

"Aislyn." Gentle hands probed at her body, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake. They turned her over, and she bit back a moan of protest. "Aislyn!" The voice took on a stern tone, almost angry, while the hands grasped her shoulders.

"Stop squeeze ... squeezing me," Aislyn muttered. Her eyelids fluttered open.

"How many fingers?"

Aislyn focused blearily then gasped at the harsh visage that swam into view. Midnight black hair and gray eyes the color of the Tasman Sea on a stormy day. She sighed, convinced she was dreaming, but murmured his name aloud anyway. "Seamus?"

"Hell’s teeth, Aislyn! What were you thinking?" He ground out the words from between clenched teeth while his fists tightened on her shoulders. She winced at the flash of pain. "You could have been killed!"

Well, she’d wanted his attention but not quite like this. Aislyn groaned and pushed to a sitting position.

"Why?" he demanded, his gray eyes diamond hard in an equally hard face.

She felt a fiery blush bloom on her face and spread downward. Rats. Why did he have to arrive home right at this specific moment? It seemed all the single most embarrassing moments in her life occurred in front of Seamus. If she’d thought about things a little harder, she’d have guessed he’d turn up.

"Are you going to answer me?"

Aislyn decided to respond to his interrogation from a standing position. The way he loomed over her made her feel vulnerable. Feminine. Not a good look for a recruit. She gritted her teeth and pushed to her feet with a wobble. Masculine hands shot out to steady her, but she shrugged them off. "I don’t need your help." And I can’t think when you touch me.

"You need a keeper," he growled.

She tried to look Seamus right in the eye, she really did. But a few seconds of that mesmerizing glare and her gaze shot to her dusty black boots, while her heart pumped in double-time to keep her from expiring on the spot. She sighed, acutely aware of his athletic physique and the way he towered over her by a good eight inches. Aislyn snuck a quick look at his face. Tanned, not handsome or pretty but masculine. Confident. A reassuring male to have around and the male she lusted ... Two rats and a mouse! She’d thought she’d had this crush thing beat.

"Why, Aislyn?"

"I have to prove I can ride," she mumbled. "I want to join the fairy force." Since I can’t have you.

"What?" His eyes turned to molten steel. A vein twitched in his clenched jaw. Seamus stalked closer.

"You’re always yelling at me." Even though they were almost chest to chest, Aislyn stood her ground and scowled back. Quick panting breaths partially blocked his appealing citrus scent. She thought she saw a flicker of admiration in his face but wasn’t sure. Frustration at his attitude made her tense, like a mythical cat primed to pounce. Seamus had no right to tell her what to do.

"The fairy force doesn’t accept females. Or should I say, young headstrong juveniles?"

"Says who?" His smug tone infuriated her so much she whipped a small black book from her trouser pocket and slapped it against his hard chest. "Where in the rule book does it say that? Show me."

Aislyn placed her hands on her hips and gave a triumphant smile. He couldn’t. She knew because she’d spent every waking hour of the last month pouring through that same little black book, checking the small print. No way did she intend to knock herself out training then be hauled back from the brink of success because of a stupid rule she’d missed.

Seamus glanced at the book before placing it on a nearby railing. "Aislyn, you don’t have a hope. When the board of directors stop laughing they’ll screw up your application form and send you away with a pat on the head. Hell, even if it’s not against some rule, nothing will come of your scheming. Face it, you’re not strong enough to complete the final training."

"Not at the moment, no. But I’m smart. That’s half the battle won."

His dark brows shot toward his hairline. "You forgot stubborn."

Aislyn nodded, knowing the accusation was nothing less than the truth.

"Why?" he demanded. "Why do you want to leave the safety of the fairy colony? It’s dangerous out there, especially for fairy females."

Why? He should try being a female fairy, restricted to Glenveagh. Never allowed to leave the colony because of stupid cats. Huh! She’d bet they were an urban legend. She bit down on the words at the tip of her unruly tongue. No point wasting her breath. Only to herself did she admit the truth.

There were only two things she wanted from life--Seamus Gallagher and the fairy force. And since Seamus treated her like a younger sibling, she intended to concentrate on joining the fairy force--even if she had to make fairy history to do it.

"Well?" Seamus stared at the copper-haired sprite standing in front of him. Defiant to the last. Her obstinate expression made him want to shake her silly or at least put her over his knee and spank some sense into her.

"I imagine for the same reasons you joined." Her face flushed with indignation. "I want to see the human world. Explore Auckland and compare it to the colony. Do good deeds, fight destructive crime. I want to see what it feels like to be human size. I don’t like needlework. The other females can do it. Who wants to sew a straight line?"

She definitely needed some good sense spanked into that delectable ... Hell’s teeth. Appalled, he put a brake on his thoughts. He sucked in a deep breath and let it ease out. "Tell me again. The truth this time."

"That is the truth." Aislyn’s small pointed chin shot up, and she inhaled deeply thrusting some stunning curves into prominence.

Dammit. Seamus averted his gaze hurriedly. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. The enticing vision remained imprinted in his mind so he started silently counting backwards from one hundred.

"You--you’re an M.C.P.!"

Her sky blue gaze struck like a bolt of lightning, stabbing right to his heart. His counting came to an abrupt halt. "M.C.P.?"

Aislyn gnawed on her full bottom lip. He realized he was staring. Ninety. Eighty-nine. Eighty-eight.

"Male chauvinist pig!"

"Male ... Aislyn, that’s a human term. Where did you hear that? Have you been spying on the human that lives at the top of the garden? Have you been spying on the Guardian? He knew it was possible for the fairies to see out, given the right atmospheric conditions, but humans were unable to see inside the protective bubble of the colony.

"No!"

"Aislyn."

Guilty color flooded her face and crept down toward her chest. Seamus grinned, starting to enjoy her predicament. Aislyn had been spying on him! Not that she knew it was him. One of the conditions he’d imposed on the board was secrecy. He had enough to worry about without the paparazzi dogging his heels, trying to establish if he took after his fickle, womanizing father.

"Oh, all right." One dainty foot traced a pattern in the dusty arena. "I happened to be passing."

"Happened to be passing? That’s a bit out of your way." Hell’s teeth, this sounded promising. Damn. Eighty-seven. Eighty-six. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. "Fancy him, do you?" Dammit, stop fishing, Gallagher. Eighty-five. Eighty-four.

"Yes. No! All right," Aislyn snapped.

This was Duncan’s baby sibling. Remember? Eighty-three. Hades, he must pick a candidate for his first lady and announce the betrothal before he committed a supreme act of stupidity. Even thinking possibilities ... Hell’s teeth! Aislyn O’Sullivan was out of bounds. Eighty-two. Eighty-one. Eighty. Do not pursue this conversation. "And if you were a member of the fairy force you could travel freely between the human and fairy worlds. You could meet your human on equal terms."

"Yes," she whispered. "So now you know my pitiful secrets."

As Seamus watched, she averted her face, but not before he saw the bright red flush on her cheeks again. Tenderness twisted inside him, and he reached out to grasp her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. He searched her face intently. "The fairy force is hard work." He wasn’t so old he didn’t remember how difficult the training had been, how mentally draining and physically challenging it was. "It’s not glamorous. The human world isn’t that different from our colony. We have the same facilities here, some of the same problems. Why would you want to leave?"

"You don’t understand. I want this so badly, Seamus."

"Ah, Aislyn." Despite all thoughts of self-preservation, he pulled her into a loose embrace and smoothed his hand over her unruly mop of hair. In the bright New Zealand sunshine the curls looked like shiny new Irish pennies. They were soft and springy to the touch and smelled like fresh juicy apricots. She cuddled closer and gave a soft sigh. Seamus cursed inwardly. Bad move, Gallagher. He wished he wasn’t attracted to her. She was so determined, so stubborn. She made him want things that could never be, not if the colony was to survive into the next millennium.

He stepped back, putting a safer distance between them before cupping her face in his hands. "Have you any idea what you are letting yourself in for? I meant what I said; it won’t be easy. The odds are against your success, even if you manage to persuade the board to let you try out for the recruits."

Aislyn smiled, and thought how cute he looked. So intent. So sincere. So similar to the human who lived at the top of the garden. She let out a small gasp. Was that why she felt so impelled to watch the human whenever she had the opportunity? Because he looked a bit like Seamus? Not that she’d had a clear view, since she’d only seen him from a distance. The veil that separated fairy from human made everything hazy. And that time when he’d been entertaining that woman. She’d heard them talk then.

"What?" A smile lurked in his eyes.

Some, she thought vaguely, might call it a mischievous twinkle, but she knew better. Seamus thought of her as an annoying younger sibling in need of protection. While she loved him. She railed at the injustice while her heart sank at the enormity of her problem.

"Nothing," she mumbled. Seamus was a lost cause. He’d never consider her in a romantic light. That’s why she’d decided to set her sights on the force. Okay, so she carried cat-attracting pheromones. All the females did. Aislyn couldn’t see the problem. After all, how could a cat eat you if you were human-sized. According to rumor, a cat was a huge, hairy beast with fangs and smelly breath, but Aislyn was sure the story was exaggerated. She’d questioned the fairy force members when they came back on leave. They avoided straight answers so Aislyn thought cats had to be smaller than humans.

"I’ll help you," he said without warning. "But I’m not making any promises. Duncan would want me to help you."

Her brother.

Again.

Aislyn studied him, trying to read his expression but failed dismally. She had no idea what went on in that mind of his. Suspicion made her question. "You’re not joking? Making fun of me?"

Seamus clutched his chest and raised his eyes to the sky. "She wounds me."

"Fool," she snapped, trying not to stare at the rippling muscles under his pale blue shirt.

Seamus dropped his grin. "I’m offering to help you train."

"Why?" Her eyes narrowed on the hard angles of his face. "You don’t approve."

"Think of it as a favor to my best friend’s baby sister."

Aislyn deflated inside like one of her manual attempts at a soufflé. Verbal proof. Exactly what she’d thought. He looked on her as a sister. In that moment she decided to accept his offer. And make him suffer for the unknowing hurt he’d inflicted.

"Okay," she said, thrusting out her hand to seal the bargain. Aislyn steeled herself against the shiver of pleasure she knew would follow his touch. "So," she said hurriedly. "Where and when do we start?"

* * * *

Hell in a hand basket.

That about summed up the day. Seamus shouldered open his front door and stood aside to let his partner enter. First Aislyn then ... Hell. Not a day to record for prosperity.

Gill stormed down the passage and turned into the living room. Seamus followed.

"So Hone is dead? You saw the body yourself?" Total disbelief covered Gill’s face.

"Yeah." Seamus stalked the length of his living room and back, ignoring the magnificent view of Auckland city and the harbor beyond. His mouth compressed. "What was left of him." No one should have to die that way. Dammit he was responsible. He should have been more careful, told Hone to take extra care. He whirled to a halt and glanced at his partner and friend, MacGillicuddy. One look told him Gill felt the same burning need for revenge.

Maximillan was going down.

Gill straightened from his slouch and jerked his head toward Seamus’s fridge in the adjacent room. "Drink?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?" Seamus displayed a flash of teeth in the hope it might pass as a grin. He shrugged off his jacket and flopped down on the nearest chair, thrusting his feet out in a comfortable sprawl. Inside, his gut churned with guilt. Self-recrimination. And a hundred other emotions he had no control over.

"Here." Gill thrust an ice cold can at him and dropped into the shabby blue chair opposite. "Clamp your lips around that."

Seamus bit back his frustration and tugged on the ring-pull. A soft hiss escaped as the can opened. He closed his eyes, tipped back his head and drank, savoring the crisp taste of hops as the beer slid down his parched throat. A few more beers and he might even start to relax. Feeling the weight of a stare, his eyes popped open.

Gill studied him intently for a nanosecond longer. "Do we have anyone in place at Maximillan’s?"

Bloodlust glittered in Gill’s pale blue eyes. Seamus knew the same fierce emotions were reflected in his own gaze. "No. But thanks to Hone, at least we have more to go on."

"Hone’s dead because of a scavenger hunt, for God’s sake." Gill leapt to his feet and paced. With his blond hair sticking up in wayward tufts, scruffy undercover clothes and his fierce expression, he resembled a demented street person. He glared at Seamus. "Maximillan’s stark raving mad if he thinks we’re going to let him get away with Hone’s murder and decimating New Zealand’s wildlife all in the name of a frigging game. You’ve seen the list?"

"Yeah." Seamus had seen it. That some eccentric millionaire thought he had the right to take whatever he pleased simply because he had big bucks and political clout made him sick. But Maximillan’s day would come. Of that, Seamus was confident. Maximillan would make a mistake. The man was as wily as a weasel, too crafty to walk into their traps--so far.

Gill whirled about after another lap of pacing. "How the hell do the fools expect the competitors to bag a kakapo chick?" Disgust made his top lip curl. "As if smuggling a tuatara and a kiwi egg out of the country isn’t bad enough. Have we notified the conservation departments in Australia and Brazil?"

"Talked to the Aussies half an hour ago, but not the Brazilian contingent. Diego’s gonna ring me."

"So what’s the plan. We’re not exactly overloaded with manpower."

Seamus shot to his feet, desperate to soothe his agitation with motion. "Another beer?"

"Yeah, but I need to get going soon. Are you sure you don’t want to come? Rachel has a twin sister."

Seamus grabbed another two cans and handed one to Gill. Although a night on the town sounded frivolous, he knew it was Gill’s way of coping with Hone’s death. Seamus understood the need to push aside the unspeakable, even if escape was for a mere night. "Another time. I have things to do." Like working out how to deal with Aislyn.

Gill’s brows rose. "Aha! The mystery woman again."

"There is no woman," Seamus muttered. A vision of Aislyn with her vivid copper curls danced through his mind. He thrust it away. No future with Aislyn.

"Argue all you like. I don’t believe you. One day you’re gonna break down and tell me."

Seamus coughed and spluttered as the chug of beer went down the wrong way. He gasped for breath and wiped a dribble of beer from the corner of his mouth. Yeah, right. Gill might be his best friend on the human side, but if Seamus told him the truth the man would start running and never look back. Loony tune city. Some truths were better off kept secret. He shrugged and said nothing to confirm or deny.

A grin twitched at Gill’s mouth. Seamus stiffened. He didn’t trust that look.

"Man, keep your secrets." Gill paused to sip his beer. "She’s married," he declared, his tone flat, betraying disappointment.

"She’s not married."

"Ah! So it is a woman." Gill’s triumphant grin made Seamus want to put a kink in his friend’s impressive Roman nose.

"Think what you like. Truth is I don’t feel like going out on the town tonight. Not after last night."

Gill sobered. "What are we going to do about Maximillan?"

"I’m going to pull a few favors. Try to arrange more police to take in the slack. At least with the list we have a better idea of the areas they’ll hit. Most of the endangered birds are safe on the offshore islands, but Maximillan’s resort in the Hauraki Gulf is the ideal base for competitors. That’s our main problem."

"Since it’s right next to Little Barrier Island. Yeah, I know. That’s why we need someone inside the resort or better yet working on Maximillan’s estate."

Seamus scowled. "Who? Neither of us can go. Maximillan knows our faces."

"How about one of the new recruits?"

That was the obvious solution, but Seamus didn’t like the idea. The recruits were keen but inexperienced. The whole situation was too bloody dangerous. The empty can in his right hand crumpled as he sought an alternative. "I don’t know. I’ll give it some thought."

Gill grunted. "We need a woman."

Seamus knew Gill meant a woman undercover on the island but amusement sparked anyway. "It always comes down to a woman with you."

"Nothing better to keep you warm at night," Gill agreed with a grin. He glanced at his watch. "And on that note, I’d better leave. Don’t want to keep the lady waiting. See you tomorrow."

"Early," Seamus warned. "Don’t get too comfortable with all that warmth."

Gill fired his empty can at the bin and whooped at the noisy clang of success. "A dedicated bachelor. That’s me. Hell, you’re the one with all the dark, dangerous secrets. Catch ya later."

Gill’s footsteps echoed in the passage as he headed for the front door. Seamus heard his friend’s Ford start with a throaty rumble but didn’t move until the sound of the engine faded into the distance.

His mouth twisted as he replayed Gill’s words. Secrets. His friend knew Seamus Gallagher, police detective. He didn’t have a clue about Seamus’s double role as Guardian in charge of the fairy colony. Yeah, he had dark secrets. Dangerous secrets. And it was a damned juggling act trying to keep all the balls in play. He just hoped like hell he didn’t take a wrong step and get concussed in the fallout.

Damn, Aislyn.

He headed off for a shower and ten minutes later, dropped into a leather recliner in his den. His chest and arms were covered with goose bumps after the cold shower, but his blood still ran hot.

Aislyn’s fault.

He rubbed his hands over his face and cursed softly. Talk about a big mouth. The instant he’d spoken he’d known he should turn and walk--hell--make that sprint in the opposite direction. Instead, he’d offered to help Aislyn train when he should be concentrating on avenging Hone’s death and stopping Maximillan. His fists clenched as he contemplated his stupidity. Too late to take back his offer now. He’d given his word. The future loomed full of cold showers. And long sleepless nights filled with fantasies that wouldn’t quit--of copper curls, firm breasts, trim thighs ... curves in all the right places. Bloody hell. He should have taken Gill up on his offer of a night on the town.

Then he laughed. His laugh held an edge of hardness and not a trace of humor. He got up to pour a glass of Jameson’s and stared into the amber liquid, deep in thought.

There was a month before the successful applicants were announced at the Witches and Goblin’s ball. Working with Aislyn would be like staring temptation in the face. And daring it on.

Masochist.

He dragged out a file and opened it, intending to bury himself work instead of fixating on Aislyn O’Sullivan. This surge of lust for Aislyn was a temporary blip. It would pass and life would go on. Police work had filled his life for a decade, his Guardian duties two years. At the thought of duties, guilt pricked at him. He knew he should announce his betrothal and make it official. Yet he hesitated. And that made his guilt grow.

Purposely pushing Aislyn to the back of his mind, Seamus shuffled through the papers in his manila file until he found the scavenger hunt list. According to intelligence Hone had supplied, each of the twenty competitors put up half a million American dollars to enter with the winner taking out a cool ten million in prize money. It was the challenge that attracted the competitors, not the prize package.

Too much money to know better. Boredom was a hell of a thing.

Seamus ran his finger down the list. Fifteen items. All rare and difficult to attain, they came from far-flung corners of the world. Fury built within him, burning his gut, fuelling his determination to get Maximillan.

Kakapo chicks. They were an endangered species. So scarce there were eighty-six in existence. Damned if he was going to let Maximillan and his mates take what they wanted without a fight.

The insistent ring of the colony cell phone jerked Seamus to the present. "Gallagher," he said tersely.

An Irish brogue blasted down the line. "Dammit, what do you mean by encouraging the O’Sullivan lass? You might be Guardian but don’t you think you might have consulted the rest of the board first?"

Murphy. Seamus frowned. A rattled Murphy. "What’s happened?"

"The O’Sullivan lass applied for the fairy force. When Moira McKenzie refused her application, the O’Sullivan lass turned her into a white rat."

Seamus felt his lips twitch as he pictured the board’s office assistant in white fur and whiskers but kept every trace of humor from his voice. Hell’s teeth, what was he going to do with Aislyn O’Sullivan? "I thought there was an ordinance against the use of magic on board premises?"

"Yes, well." Murphy spluttered, managing to sound like a gobbling turkey. "If the fairy force recruits were chosen on sheer ingenuity, the O’Sullivan lass would be a shoo-in. She accosted Moira in the Dunlewy deli during a quiet moment. The only witnesses were the owners, Max and Hilda. Thank goodness!"

"That’s not so bad then."

"I haven’t got to the good bit," Murphy muttered. "The rat, ah, Moira, ran up Hilda’s skirt, Hilda tripped and fell over the dessert trolley. All the desserts were ruined so Hilda sacked the O’Sullivan lass. I tell you, Aislyn O’Sullivan is trouble. Moira is hysterical and she’s blaming me."

Aislyn. Seamus shook his head. Always the restless one. "Murphy, if you must dip your wick--"

"That’s none of your business!" Murphy made the crazed gobbling sound again.

Seamus bit back a grin. He knew he should have kept quiet, but the affair between Murphy and Moira was an open secret. Everyone knew.

"Boy, this is your fault. You encouraged the lass so you mop up the mess. We can’t have females joining the fairy force. It’s ... it’s unthinkable. If we let her join all the females will push for more. We can’t allow it. If we let just one female out of the colony they’ll all want to go." Murphy’s voice rose with each successive sentence. "Next thing we know they’ll want females on the board!"

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Seamus heard Murphy’s sudden intake of breath and waited for the inevitable gobbling.

"Women on the ... Are you mad?"

Seamus grinned, unsurprised at the older male’s reaction. "The doctor passed me on my last medical," he said, "so no, I’m quite sane."

"Then why are you encouraging the O’Sullivan fairy?" Murphy roared.

Seamus held his mobile away from his ear. "I tried to talk her out of it, but she is adamant. She wants to try out for the next intake of recruits."

"But it’s against the rules," Murphy blustered.

Seamus glanced over at the small black rulebook that sat discarded on his desk. He’d read the thing from cover to cover after talking to Aislyn. "There’s nothing in the rules to prevent a female applying." Stunned silence met his words. "Murphy, are you there?"

"Nothing?" Murphy demanded in a hoarse voice.

"I checked. Murphy, you’re panicking over nothing. She has to make the cut first."

"You mean--? Ah, I’m with you. We’ll make sure she doesn’t make the cut. Cunning plan. Now I know why we voted you Guardian."

"Coerced and blackmailed, you mean. And no, that’s not what I meant," Seamus snapped, incensed on Aislyn’s behalf yet not really sure why. He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on Murphy. "We have to take care in our reaction. The fairy press will scrutinize everything we do, and the other colonies around the world will run the news because it’s a good fairy interest story. Look at the facts. Making the cut is difficult. Even for a male. You know how high the drop out rate is during hell week."

"So you’re saying let the O’Sullivan lass compete and give it her best shot?"

"That’s what I’m saying. Legally we can’t stop her applying, but physically I don’t think she is capable."

"Then why are you training her?"

"So I can keep an eye on developments," Seamus said, working at keeping the bite from his voice. He sighed inwardly. Hades, if he said it often enough then maybe even he’d come to believe.