Dark Witch (The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy #1)(47)

“We understand each other.”

When Darling angled her head so her cheek pressed to Boyle’s, and when he took the half apple out of his pocket, and fed it to her, Iona knew she was done.

“I’ll get another for Winnie. You haven’t had enough of them in your life.”

“That’s done it,” Iona muttered. “I’m good at getting mad, mostly when it’s justified. At least I think so. But I suck at staying mad. I just can’t hold on to it, it’s so heavy. Then add in me standing here watching this mutual love affair, and I can’t do it. So I’m finished being mad at you, if that matters.”

Boyle eyed her with some cautious speculation. “The day and the work go easier without having the mad weighing it down.”

“Agreed. So.” She held out a hand. “Peace?”

He frowned at her hand a moment, but he took it. He meant to let it go, right away. But he didn’t.

“You work for me.”

Iona nodded. “That’s true.”

“You’re cousin to one of my closest mates.”

Her pulse skipped lightly, but she nodded again. “I am.”

“And it’s barely a week since I first set eyes on you.”

“I can’t argue.”

“And what you are is . . . a matter.”

Now she frowned. “A matter of what?”

“A matter of, well, fact. And something you yourself are just getting acquainted with.”

“Okay. Is it the fact that’s a problem for you?”

“I wasn’t saying it was a problem.”

“Are you a witch bigot?”

Insult flew across his face so the green shimmered deeper over the tawny gold of his eyes. “That’s a softheaded thing to say, seeing as I’m friends with three of them, and one of those stands as my partner as well.”

“Then why did you bring it up as one of the reasons you’re not or shouldn’t be—I’m not sure which—interested in me?”

“Because it’s there. It is. And I’d like to know one single bloody man,” he continued with some heat, “who wouldn’t give it some considerable thought.”

“Maybe I should get mad again.” She mulled it over. “But it’s hard to work that up when Darling’s standing there watching you with adoring eyes. Plus, everything you said is true, can’t be denied. And if all of that is an issue for you, it is. None of it’s an issue for me.”

“But you’re not standing where I’m standing.”

“No, I’m not. Peace holds.” And so, if you factored in her hand, did he. “Are we good?”

“Some of it should be an issue for you.”

“Why? People get involved with bosses and employees all the time, and it’s fine—from my point of view—as long as the power structure isn’t used as a lever. People date friends’ relatives all the time, too. And I can’t, and wouldn’t, change what I am.”

“Being logical doesn’t change a thing.”

She had to laugh. “Being illogical does?”

“It’s not— Bloody hell.”

He gave her his second yank of the day, as frustrated as the first. And since she was still laughing, he put the stop to it by crushing his mouth to hers.

She tasted as he imagined light would, warm and bright with a snap of energy. It pulled at him, that taste, made him want more of it, and more still. She befuddled him, that’s all it was, all that warm and bright there in the dim, closed in by the familiar scent of horses. His world, and now she was in it.

And she wrapped her arms around him as if she always would be.

If that didn’t jolt a man, what would?

He jerked back. “This isn’t wise.”

“I wasn’t thinking about wise or unwise. Kiss me again and I will.”

She had to boost up on her toes, pull his head down, but she met his mouth with hers. She thought it was like clinging to a volcano just before it erupted, or flying on a cloud about to swirl into a tornado.

What would it be like when the fire spewed and the storm broke?

She wanted, very much, to find out.

But again, he drew back. “You’re not thinking.”

“You’re right, I forgot. Let’s try it again.”

He laughed himself, and though there was a little pain in it, he might have taken her up on it. Except for the exaggerated throat-clearing behind him.

“Begging your pardon, but Sarah and her mother are here.” Kevin gave a wide smile. “Winnie’s saddled and ready—that is, whenever you are.”

“I’m on my way.” She looked at Boyle. “Is there paperwork?”

“Just a form for her mother to sign. I’ll take care of that.”

“All right. I’ll go get her started.”

As Iona strode out, Darling gave another whicker that might have been an equine chuckle. Kevin slid his hands in his pockets, whistled a tune.

“Not a bloody word,” Boyle muttered. “From either of you.”


*


PLEASED WITH HER DAY ON EVERY LEVEL, IONA WALKED HOME THROUGH THE GREEN SHADOWS. It felt good to step into her instructor’s boots again, and with such a promising student. Maybe, with that door cracked, Fin or Boyle would trust her with another student or two.