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the reasons she adored her brother. He might be a little rough around the edges, might drive her crazy now and then, but he genuinely wanted her to be happy. More than any of their siblings, he understood how it cut her to pieces to witness another human being’s suffering.
    He also understood the deep rooted, agonizing conflict that came with Mick.
    She gave Dáire a thankful smile and raced out the door.
    ****
    Bookended by his current partner and a former buddy from Augusta’s police force, Mick glanced at his watch, certain Rhiannon had changed her mind. Ten after—already his house was full of strangers, and he’d forced one too many smiles. Steve’s urn sat beneath the bright mantel light, a beacon that cut gaping holes into Mick’s hardened heart. He itched to be free of this pomp and circumstance. Longed to be just another guest who could depart when grief got the better of him.
    And he had depended on Rhiannon being here to make all this tolerable.
    “Hot damn,” his partner, Andrew, murmured beneath his breath. “Tell me that’s not your golddigger step-sister.”
    Mick’s head snapped up, his gaze following Andrew’s to the living room doorway. It landed on Rhiannon, and his heart kicked into his ribs. Loose and free, her long hair cascaded down the length of her slender body to the tops of her thighs. Strands of spun gold glinted in the warm lighting, and as she tentatively entered the room, those thick silken lengths swayed, calling out to his fingers. Countless times he’d wondered what she would look like with her hair unbound. Now, he couldn’t imagine ever imprisoning those spellbinding locks in that intricate braid.
    “No,” Mick managed to answer.
    Standing taller, as if he hoped Rhiannon might notice him, Brad commented, “Those tattoos took guts.”
    “She wears them well.” Andrew chuckled. “Wears that dress well too. She a friend of Steve’s, Mick?”
    Mick’s gaze skimmed over the short black dress and Rhiannon’s long legs. Her heels accented the shape of her calves, and as he slowly took her in, he observed concealed strength in the rest of her body. Her lithe frame disguised it well, but the tasteful dress showed off assets he hadn’t expected—and those he already appreciated all too well. Curves accented, the high tight press of her breasts against the fabric, the trimness of her waist—yeah… He could enjoy those for a long damn time.
    Andrew shrugged. “Guess I’ll find out for myself.”
    As his partner took a step forward, Mick clamped a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “She’s a friend of mine. ”
    He might as well have barked “Hands off” for all the possessiveness that filled his voice. The way Andrew’s eyes widened, and the glance he exchanged with Brad, warned Mick that his slip hadn’t gone unnoticed. Later, they’d flip him shit. Right now, Mick didn’t care.
    He shouldered out from between his friends and started across the crowded room. Halfway to her, she turned her head. Blue eyes froze him to the floor. For one embarrassing heartbeat, he couldn’t do anything but stand in place, trapped by the mesmerizing light in her gaze and the unexplainable warmth that flooded through his body. Then, as her smile slowly spread, animating those intricate tattoos, his pulse jumped into double-time, and he found the ability to move his feet. He closed the remaining distance between them, caught both her hands in his, and bent his head to dust a kiss across her cheek. “I thought you’d changed your mind.”
    “I gave you my word. Not very trusting, are you?” Squeezing his fingers, she let out a soft laugh.
    Chagrined, he gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry. Comes with the job.”
    “Yes.” Rhiannon nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose it does. You can’t very well convict someone if you believe everyone who swears innocence.”
    Put that way, he couldn’t argue. Though the fact she understood caught him off guard. Most women accused him of being jaded, or