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Her flinch made him want to reach out to her, but she’d communicated her need for space.
“That’s good.” She opened her arms as if trying to explain something. “I’m not perfect. Ask anyone.”
A confusing reply. “I don’t want perfect,a stór. I’ll leave you now. Get some rest.”
“Do I need to make sure you aren’t going to sleep in front of my gate?” she called out as he walked to the motorcycle.
“No, but I’ll feel better once you set the house alarm.”
“First thing,” she told him. “The instructions are in my briefing package.”
He knew. He’d helped put it together, just as he’d overseen the installation of the alarm itself. “I’m glad you’re here, Taylor.”
Their eyes met and held. He could almost feel the strong pulse of her heart across the short distance between them. Emotion rippled over her throat yet again. Yes, she felt the pull between them as much as he did.
“I’m happy to be here too, Liam. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”
“Good night, Taylor.”
She paused before heading inside.
Leaving her alone was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. Yet as he left, he used one of his other gifts. He called in extra protection for her and her home from every fairy, leprechaun, god and goddess, and angel he could think of.
But seeing Sorcha visible in the dark beside the gates as they closed gripped him hard as he thundered away.
CHAPTERTHREE
Bets was out Summercrest Manor’s front door the moment she heard the growl of Liam’s motorcycle.
Linc was right behind her, probably along with everyone else who’d been holding vigil. If she wasn’t so angry, her knees might have given out in relief at seeing him safe and sound. His text had scared the shit out of her, and it hadn’t mattered that the incident was over before he’d sent it. She’d flipped out.
“Taylor’s not with you?” she asked after he killed the engine in the driveway, a tall line of black in the shadow of the outside lights.
“Mom, I told you,” he said as he secured the bike and took off his helmet, “I had her, and now she’s at home.”
“But Malcolm Coveney went after her today!” Bets gripped his arm and scanned his dear face, knowing he’d be as upset as she was, with Taylor being his soulmate and all. “Liam—”
He pulled her to him and simply rocked her. “I know you’re scared, but she handled it like a pro. I didn’t want to leave her, but she needed some time to herself. She’s in the house with the alarm armed, and she has my cell—”
“I still think we should go over there.” She dug her forehead into his chest. “Liam, she could have gotten hurt. So could you. When I saw that one jerk go for you… Malcolm hadfourguys with him, Denis included.”
“Yeah, seems Denis is on the payroll officially full-time now,” Linc said, finally making his large presence known with his Southern drawl.
Liam turned Bets until she fit into the comforting curve of his arm. “Linc, I told Taylor we’d talk about all this tomorrow. I figured you’d do what you can in the meantime.”
“Already being looked into.” Linc rubbed the back of his neck. “Our new Garda officer has the link to Taylor’s live feed. I imagine he’ll want to follow up with both of you.”
Bets looked over her shoulder when she heard a baby cry. Angie had come out of the house with Emeline, followed by the others. Everyone connected to the arts center had responded to the call, worried about the newest sign of aggression. They’d all gathered at Summercrest to wait for Liam—Angie and Carrick, Donal and Ghislaine, Eoghan and Sandrine, Sophie and Jamie, and of course the two couples who lived here with Liam—Brady and Ellie and Declan and Kathleen. Sophie, as a longtime friend of Taylor’s, was particularly concerned.
“You guys here for a party?” Liam called out in a bad joke. “Seriously, Taylor is fine.”
“Yeah, she just texted me,” Sophie said, rushing across the lawn. “I was sick with worry the moment Bets contacted everyone. I mean, I know Taylor is a strong woman—”
“She was as cool as a cucumber,” Eoghan said with a pronounced lilt, coming forward with an agility Bets hoped she had at the ripe age of ninety-four. “Malcolm didn’t expect her to go on the offensive. We’re lucky she was quick on her feet.”
“That’s why you hired her as the media director,” Ghislaine added, holding Donal’s hand as everyone circled them, worry etched on their faces.
“We’ve seen a lot of lows in people’s attempts to shut the arts center down, but this is a new one,” Donal said gravely. “God knows what might have happened if Taylor hadn’t handled herself.”
