Night Games Read Online Free PDF Page B

laughed, and she
understood.
If Brian Byrne wanted sex with a thousand women, he could have it and still have women lined up. It wasn’t about being tall and muscular. It wasn’tabout long dark hair that lay heavy on his shoulders in the morning mist. It wasn’t even about a face with knife-edged cheekbones and a sensual mouth. It was his eyes. There was somebody home in those green eyes. Somebody vital and sexy. The male animal in its most concentrated form. Somebody a woman would want to know and understand, but probably never would.
    If she ever figured out the truth about men, maybe she’d write a book,
The Essential Male Animal
. But right now, she was too busy being strong, resourceful, and oh God—she hadn’t asked a meaningful question in almost a minute.
    He looked away and continued walking, but not before she saw the laughter still in his eyes. “So I guess you’ll be eager to get away from here. Hey, a haunted castle and crazy owner can’t make for much fun.”
    She didn’t miss the hopeful note in his voice. “That’s what this whole story was about, wasn’t it?” They’d reached the wagon, and she watched him tie the horse. “Tell me about your life in the future and see me run away.”
    He shrugged as he caught sight of Ally’s great-aunt leaning from the wagon. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”
    â€œGood to see you didn’t freeze to death last night, Brian.” Katy Gallagher cast her grandniece an accusing glare. “Come in and have a cup of coffee. Take a look at our wagon.”
    Brian watched Ally do more lip pursing and eye narrowing. She didn’t want him inside herwagon. He smiled. “Coffee sounds great.” He’d never tasted coffee, but he’d give anything a try, especially if it irritated Ally O’Neill. There was something about an angry woman. . . . He hadn’t met many angry women in his life.
    He climbed into the wagon ahead of Ally. Tried to ignore the touch of her gaze on his back, his buttocks, his legs. His awareness of her continued to surprise him.
    Brian was a sexual animal, a male who could give and receive sexual pleasure, and as such was valued in his time, where sexual stimulus was at a premium. For most of the population, watching him perform was a vicarious thrill, the closest they’d ever get to the real thing.
    He accepted what he was, took pride in what he did so well, but he’d done it so many times that it took more than a woman’s glance to arouse him. When he’d first started his career, he’d believed there could never be enough women. Now? He wasn’t sure. Lately, arousal had taken a conscious effort on his part, and that was why he needed these three weeks.
    So why his response to Ally? He hadn’t a clue.
    â€œCat won’t leave the wagon.” Katy peered into a mirror as she busily flattened her hair into submission. “Tried to chase him off your bed, but he hissed and swatted at me. Decided to let you deal with him.”
    â€œThanks.” Ally moved around Brian to stare at the large calico cat sprawled across the lower half of her bed. “Why
my
bed?”
    â€œBecause he knows you don’t want him there. Cats are perverse that way.” With that bit of folk wisdom, Katy turned her attention to Brian. “Ally likes to think things to death when she’d be better off going with her gut feelings. Like this book she’s writing,
Coping with Single Life.
Makes single life sound like a chore. She should be writing a book called
Having a Kick-ass Good Time.
I’m looking to find some Irish fairies—to talk to them, share a few jokes. If Ally ever runs into something she can’t explain, she’ll analyze every last blessed drop of joy out of it.”
    Ally’s sigh was long suffering. “Okay, what
should
I do if I run into something unexplained, and what does this have to do