When she relaxed and laid her cheek on his shoulder, he felt as victorious as if he’d dragged home a moose for her supper.
“You needed the forests, and you actually like people. It must be worse for an introverted bear.” She gave Tynan a squeeze. “Thank you. I’ll try not to worry so much about him.”
“At least you’re not harassing him about what he might need or what he should do. Donal, as you can imagine…”
She had the cutest throaty giggle. “I’m sure he told you exactly what to do to get better and was offended when you didn’t take his advice. Noisily offended.”
Tynan laughed. “You know him well, banfasa.”
Her head was tilted back, and raindrops glittered in her dark eyelashes. Her eyes danced with laughter, her soft lips curved, and she offered far more temptation than any male could resist.
He lowered his head slowly, giving her time to object, and then kissed her, savoring her mouth, pulling her closer. Her breasts flattened against his chest, and when he slid his hands under her shirt, her damp skin was warm and silken under his rough palms.
She kissed like a dream.
“Seriously? If you’re going to do that, get your tails inside and out of the rain.” Donal stood on the porch, hands on his hips.
“Worried about us catching cold?” Tynan asked, amused.
“Hardly. I simply want her between us on the couch. Or better yet, the bed.” With a cat’s exasperated stalk, Donal disappeared into the house.
Meggie’s eyes were wide.
“Little wolf.”
“He didn’t really mean that,” she tried to tell him.
Donal didn’t say things he didn’t mean. As Tynan’s cop friends would say, the healer lacked a filter between brain and mouth.
However, there were three of them, and one hadn’t indicated her preference. “He meant exactly what he said. But, Meggie, if you’re not interested in him that way—or aren’t interested in two males at once, then simply tell us.” He put a finger under her chin, tilting her head so he could see her expression in the glow of the porch light.
Had he ever thought she wasn’t beautiful?
He couldn’t remember. These days, it seemed as if the beauty of her spirit engulfed the merely physical. Is this what shifters saw when they looked into the face of the Goddess—a radiance that overwhelmed anything else?
Meggie leaned against him like a wolf pup seeking reassurance. “Saying I’m not interested would be lying. I just don’t want the two of you to be…disappointed. I…I’ve never… Two at the same time.”
He could scent her interest. She was still so very inexperienced, which meant they’d go slow…and thoroughly enjoy making sure her desire was at white-hot levels. “It’s our job to make sure none of us are disappointed. Trust us, a leannán.”
After enjoying another kiss, he took her inside to his littermate.
To share.
In their living room, Donal heard the front door open. Anticipation rising within him, he added a log to the fire and tossed cushions, blankets, and pillows into a pile next to the hearth.
It was good that yesterday he and Tynan had readied the unused female bedroom upstairs. The largest bedroom—the heart of the house—was surrounded and protected by the smaller male bedrooms.
He’d never bothered to make up the room before, but for Margery… Yes. Absolutely, yes.
When she and Tynan walked into the living room, Donal stared at the drenched pair. “By the Gods, even pixies know to come in out of the rain.”
Margery’s hair was soaked, and she was shivering, yet she grinned. “I’m blaming your littermate.”
“Humph.” Donal raised his brows at his brother. “When I kiss a female, her shivers aren’t because she’s cold.”
Tynan laughed…and kissed Margery again.
The mangy mutt was disgustingly difficult to provoke.
After grabbing towels from the downstairs bathroom, Donal handed one to Tynan. “You look like a drowned dog. Dry off before you catch your death.”
His littermate gave him an amused glance. “You sound like Granny.”
“But I’m so much better looking.”
Margery’s giggle was unexpected—and delightful.
When she fumbled unsuccessfully with the buttons of her sweater, he tossed the towel over his shoulder and brushed her chilled hands aside. “Let me, sweetling.”
With years of experience, he efficiently stripped her sweater, shirt, and bra off.
Undid her jeans…
“Donal,” she gasped, making a futile grab for the waistband.
…and tugged them down to her ankles.
“Too late.” He left her feet tangled in the mess. “Such a shame, little banfasa, but it doesn’t look like you’re going to be able to escape.”