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
