Kay Hooper - (Shamrock 1) by Rafe The Maverick

Author:Rafe The Maverick [Maverick, Rafe The]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-12-24T00:43:15.868000+00:00

She walked down a narrow hallway that ran behind the kitchen along one wing. Her restlessness turned to interest when she realized she was in what was obviously the oldest part of the building. It was constructed of adobe, with small rooms and narrow windows. She hadn't stopped to think about it before, but this house had probably been rebuilt or at the very least added to, over the years as she'd been told had happened to Killara. Most of the rooms were for storage, filled with old furniture and various other antique items.

But one room captured her attention to the point of drawing her inside. It had obviously been a library or study at one time or another. Bookshelves lined two walls and contained dusty, old books, some clearly journals and notebooks. There were several very old maps framed and behind glass on the two remaining walls, and near the door was a row of shelves holding an amazing collection of steins ranging from a beaten�and somewhat battered�silver mug to a beautifully ornate porcelain stein that had probably never been sullied by beer.

"There you are," Rafe said, stepping into the room. "Thought I heard you in here."

For a moment Maggie was too busy staring at him to speak. Though the swelling had gone down in both his eye and nose, he still wore the hallmarks of a two-fisted free-for-all. If he'd been multicolored the day before, today he boasted glorious Technicolor.

"You look terrible!" she exclaimed without thinking, then corrected herself. To her, Rafe could never look terrible.

"Thank you," he said gravely.

"You look like you've been in a war."

"I feel like it." He winced as he took another step toward her. "I'm getting too old to use my body to turn a table into kindling."

"Did you?" she asked, startled.

He gave a low laugh. "It broke my fall. Somebody threw me."

Rather hastily she took his arm and led him to an overstuffed leather armchair. "Sit down before you fall down."

"I'll live, lass." He sank into the chair, wincing again.

She stared down at him, and her curiosity shifted belatedly into gear. "I gather your brothers were in that fight as well?"

"Certainly. Delaneys always stand together�or fall together, as the case may be. I think I took the worst of it though. I usually do," he added philosophically.

"Don't you know how to duck?" Maggie demanded, half laughing.

Rafe looked mildly insulted. "Duck? As Burke constantly reminds me, fighting is a science. One does not duck. Bob and weave maybe, but never duck."

"You should have bobbed and weaved more then."

"When fists are coming at you from all directions, it's a bit difficult to know which way to weave."

She lifted a brow at him. "You know, it sounds as if you were in a barroom brawl." When his expression turned slightly sheepish, she choked back a laugh. "You were? Really?"

"My Irish blood," he murmured.

"In Hell's Bluff?" It was more statement than question, but Rafe nodded confirmation. Maggie was hardly gifted with second sight, but something about his expression prodded her to question further.

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