The Mighty Quinns: Brendan

“No problem,” he murmured, his gaze fixed for a moment on her mouth.

To distract his attention, she took a bite of the ham sandwich he’d prepared. She’d been so used to eating bar food for every meal that a simple ham sandwich tasted like gourmet fare. “Why did you jump into the middle of that fight?” Amy asked. “I was in a roomful of men and you were the only one who came to my aid. Why was that?”

“I don’t know,” Brendan said. “You just looked like you needed me.”

“The same way I needed you outside the bar?” Amy asked.

“Yeah, maybe.” Brendan chuckled.

“But why?”

He shrugged. “When I was a kid my Da used to tell us stories about our ancestors. The Mighty Quinns. They were always the heroes, brave and strong, chivalrous. I guess the stories stuck.”

Amy smiled, then leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad they did,” she murmured. She picked up her sandwich and her milk and pushed away from the table. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

When she reached the safety of her cabin, Amy shut the door behind her and leaned back against it, clutching the milk and her ham sandwich to her chest. She smiled, then took a bite of the sandwich. It was nice to have a hero, someone who cared more about her than the Aldrich money. But how far would this stranger— would Brendan Quinn—go to help her?

Amy sighed. There was an even bigger question out there. How long would she be able to resist such a handsome and charming protector?

2

HE WASN’T completely asleep when he heard the knock on the door of his cabin. At first, Brendan thought it was his imagination, part of a dream he had briefly slipped into before drifting off. But the knock came again and he pushed up on his elbow and rubbed his eyes. There could be only one person on the other side and considering his earlier reaction to Amy Aldrich, Brendan wasn’t sure that a late-night visit was in his best interest. He rolled over and closed his eyes.

She knocked again, this time more insistently. With a soft curse, he reached out and turned on the light beside his berth. “Come in,” he called.

The door opened a crack and Amy peered inside. “I’m sorry to wake you,” she said in a low whisper. “But my cabin is freezing. Do you have another blanket?”

Brendan groaned inwardly. He wasn’t really set up for guests on The Mighty Quinn. When one of his brothers stayed overnight, they usually didn’t require much in terms of amenities. The only other blanket he had was the down comforter that he was sleeping beneath and if he gave that up, he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. “Put on another layer of clothes,” he suggested.

She opened the door wider and in the dim light, he could see that she’d already done that. She looked like a refugee from some bizarre slumber party, layers of clothing and pajamas turning her pretty figure into one that resembled the Pillsbury Doughboy. Topping it all off, she wore a hooded sweatshirt with the hood tied tightly around her face. He could hear her teeth chattering from across the room. If he had any worries about his attraction to her, they ended with the red wool gloves she wore on her hands and the fuzzy slippers on her feet.

“I’m going to die of hypothermia,” Amy said. “And it’s going to be all your fault.”

Brendan groaned and flopped back on the bed, his arm over his eyes. “Why is it that everything bad that happens to you is my fault?”

She walked across his cabin and sat down on the edge of his berth, tugging the edge of down comforter over her shoulders. “Because it is,” she murmured. “You could give me this blanket.”

Though Amy didn’t look as sexy as she potentially could, the notion of her sitting on his berth in the middle of the night was a bit disconcerting for him. He’d never brought a woman home to The Mighty Quinn before. The boat was his own personal space and Brendan had always felt that inviting someone here, especially for the purposes of pleasure, would be a violation of his privacy. Sure, Olivia had been on his boat and so had Meggie. Olivia had even slept in his bed—with Conor. And now that Amy Aldrich was here, he wasn’t even sure why he was so concerned. She was simply a guest, after all, not a lover.

But that changed the instant Amy lay down beside him. Pulling the down comforter over top of her and wriggling up against him, she settled in. He became acutely aware that he wasn’t wearing anything but the comforter and an uneasy smile, not that she could tell through the five layers of clothes she wore. “What the hell are you doing?” Brendan asked.

“I’m just going to lie here until I warm up. Then I’ll go back to my cabin,” she murmured. “You know, it’s really not the cold. It’s the damp. It just goes right to the bone.”

Brendan sat up and jammed the coverlet between their bodies. He didn’t mean to act like a prude, but this was totally unacceptable. “You’re not going to sleep in here,” he said. “This is my cabin.”

Amy turned over. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like anything is going to happen. I’m just trying to get warm.”

“Go back to your own cabin, Amy,” he said through clenched teeth.

“No,” she replied, tugging the comforter more tightly around her. “I want to stay here.” She watched him warily. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to attack you while you sleep. I’m not even attracted to you. You’re just a warm body.” With a frustrated sigh, she pulled one of the pillows from beneath his head. “You do have a huge ego. As if I couldn’t resist you. Please. You’re not that cute.” She laughed, then turned her back to him.

Well, he had his answer. If he thought there was even a flicker of attraction between them, he now knew it was strictly one-sided. She had no reservations about spending the night in his bed. Never mind that he was naked and in a state of tightly checked arousal. All she wanted was a warm place to sleep and he could provide that for her. But at what cost?

Brendan stared at her long and hard, then reached out and impatiently flicked a strand of her silken hair off of his pillow. “You stay on your side of the berth and I’ll stay on mine,” he warned. “Or you’ll be sleeping on the floor.”

“All right,” she murmured, snuggling more deeply beneath the comforter.

But the barrier between them was very thin indeed. His berth was barely bigger than a twin-size bed and even jammed up against the wall, her backside came dangerously close to his lap. Brendan lay frozen in place, afraid to move, almost afraid to breathe.

Though it had been a long time since he’d slept with a woman, he’d never expected his next time to be like this. Sharing a bed with a woman usually meant a night of passion and excitement, culminating in an exquisite release. Instead, he was here with Nanook of the North, whose only interest in him was in how much body heat he might provide.

Brendan wasn’t sure how long he lay like that, only that it was long after Amy had fallen asleep. She’d managed to wiggle up against him until his body cradled hers, until her hair tickled his face and her slow, even breathing was the only sound in the cabin. He tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, unbidden fantasies swirled in his head. He imagined himself undressing her, tossing aside all those layers of clothes and pulling her body against his, skin meeting skin, the exchange of heat tantalizing and exciting, not a matter of practicality at all.

A cramp clutched at his leg and he groaned softly. The only way to stretch was to throw his leg over her hip. He did and the pain immediately eased. But a moment later, he realized what the action had cost him. He was now fully pressed against her backside and unable to quell a flood of arousal. With a low curse, Brendan backed away, but there was no more room on his side of the bed.

There was only one thing to do and the mere thought of it irritated him to no end. He scrambled over top of her and jumped out of the berth then snatched up a pair of jeans from a nearby chair and tugged them on.

He stood in the cabin and stared down at his guest, sleeping so peacefully, her body tucked into his bed. Any thought of sleep would be impossible as long as she was here. He considered carrying her back to her own cabin, but wasn’t prepared for the protest that would certainly ensue. Instead, Brendan slipped out the door, walked into Amy’s cabin and crawled beneath the rough wool blankets of her berth. The crew berths weren’t really meant for comfort. They made efficient use of a small amount of space, allowing no room to stretch out, especially for anyone over six feet tall.

Brendan folded his hands over his chest and stared up at the bottom of the bunk above him. What in the world had ever possessed him to invite her to spend the night? From the very start, he knew she was trouble. She said whatever was on her mind, even if it was insulting. She acted as if he was the cause of all of her troubles, dishing up the guilt until he had no choice but to respond. And then she had the audacity to crawl into bed with him as if her behavior wasn’t at all out of the ordinary!

Amy Aldrich definitely wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever met before. She lived her life by a whole different set of rules and standards. Or maybe it was the complete lack of rules in her life that made her different. Either way, Brendan found himself completely intrigued, captivated by her beauty but even more caught by the woman behind that luminous skin and those tantalizing blue eyes.

Tomorrow he’d get up early and find a place for her to stay. Even if he had to pay for a week or two at some local motel, it would be well worth the price. Amy Aldrich had swept into his life and upset the balance he worked so hard to achieve. If he let her stay, there was no telling what might happen. He might completely lose his mind and fall in love, just like Conor and Dylan had done with such startling speed.

No, this was not going to result in the fall of another Mighty Quinn! Brendan Quinn was much stronger, more determined than his brothers and he wouldn’t allow himself to give in to such temptation. Once Amy was off his boat and out of his life, he’d be safe again. He just had to make sure that happened as quickly as possible.

AMY STRETCHED sinuously beneath the down comforter, enjoying the warmth that enveloped her body. She opened her eyes and glanced around the cabin, taking in her surroundings. Light poured through the small portholes, dust motes dancing in the drafts that swirled through the chill morning air.

She knew she was alone, yet hadn’t recalled just when Brendan had crawled out of his bed. The clock on the bedside table read 9:00 a.m., a bit earlier than she usually rose after a night of waitressing at the Longliner. Amy sighed. But she was no longer a waitress. Today, she’d have to go out and find another job and another place to live, someplace clean and affordable. She’d have to play the games that she’d learned to play so well, hiding her real identity, employing clever strategies that would thwart the private detectives hired to find her.

Though the thought of starting all over again was a hassle, it was part of the life she’d chosen, a life filled with new experiences and adventures. In the six months since she’d left home, Amy had never once regretted her decision to run away. She paused. Well, maybe once or twice, when she thought about her grandmother.

Adele Aldrich was—and always would be—the single most important influence in Amy’s life. Her father’s mother had never resigned herself to the role her own parents had groomed her for. At age eighteen she’d received her trust fund and had immediately set off on a round of scandalous adventures—a safari in Africa, a trek through the Andes, even a boat trip down the Amazon. Then, to her parents’ dismay, she learned how to fly and lent those skills to the war effort in England.

Amy smiled. “I’m having my adventure, Grandmother,” she murmured. “But it would be a whole lot easier with money in my pocket.”

She sat up and grabbed the down comforter, wrapped it around her shoulders, and went in search of Brendan. Maybe she could convince him to give her just one more night here. It wasn’t easy to find a job that met all her criteria—no government forms, cash instead of a paycheck and meals included. Finding a place to stay was even harder. With only thirty dollars to her name, she barely had a few days’ rent, much less a deposit.

When she reached the main cabin, Brendan was nowhere to be found. Amy walked back and listened at the door of the head. Then she opened the door to her cabin and found him curled up in her berth, blankets twisted around his waist and his chest bare. For a moment, she forgot to breathe, startled once again by how handsome he was.

Luckily she’d been able to put thoughts like those out of her mind last night. Sharing a bed with a complete stranger was one thing. But sharing a bed with the sexiest man she’d ever met was quite another. Maybe it was best that she leave today. Her life was complicated enough already. Involving a man in it— even a man as desirable as Brendan Quinn—would only make things worse.

With a soft sigh, she gently laid the down comforter on top of him and wandered back to the main cabin. She had felt safe here, at least for one night. Amy tossed off her gloves and set out to make a pot of coffee. Before long, the rich smell filled the cabin and she poured herself a mug and sat down at the table.

Idly, she flipped through a stack of papers slowly realizing that she was looking at a book manuscript. Beneath another pile was a book jacket. She pulled it out and found herself staring at a picture of Brendan Quinn, looking slightly dangerous, like a modern-day pirate. “Bestselling author of Mountain Madness,” she murmured. A list of quotes by other authors gave glowing reviews of Brendan’s last book about a rescue on the north face of Mount Everest.

She went back to the manuscript and slid it in front of her. This book wasn’t about mountain climbing. It was about the men and women she’d come to know while working at the Longliner. The commercial fishermen who fished the North Atlantic and the families who waited for them to come back from the sea.