The Mighty Quinns: Conor

And Conor was tired of making the effort. He’d been alone for so long, and for the first time in his life he’d found someone who could make him forget all the barriers he’d built up around his heart.

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, a little voice—his cop voice—told him that spending the night in the same bed with Olivia broke all the rules. And making love to her would end his career. But at the moment he didn’t care. “I want to stop, but I can’t,” he murmured, dropping kisses along her jaw.

Olivia sighed. “I’m sure there are rules against this,” she whispered. Her tongue teased his nipple. She trailed lower, nipping and biting, and driving him mad with need. “And against this…” she teased, her fingers trailing down his belly, causing a flood of heat to rush to his lap.

He couldn’t take it any longer. Grabbing her wrists, he lowered her to the bed and covered her body with his. “I think it’s time we started making up our own rules,” he growled. “And rule number one…” he said, raising himself above her, “is that there will be no more rules.”

Dear Reader,

The offer was intriguing. My editors at Harlequin asked if I was interested in writing a trilogy about an Irish-American family. I’d just returned from a trip to Ireland and my mind was still filled with images of emerald-green hills, stone cottages and quaint pubs. So I had no problem at all coming up with the three sexy Irish-born heroes of my books—Conor, Dylan and Brendan, the Mighty Quinns.

Each one touched in a very different way by their harsh childhood, the Quinns have grown up without any feminine influence in their lives. So when they fall in love, they fall hard. Conor Quinn is the first to succumb. Always the responsible one, he turned to police work after raising his five younger brothers. But when he’s asked to protect beautiful antiques dealer Olivia Farrell, his usual self-control vanishes and he finds himself caught up in a passion that may cost him more than just his job.

Watch for Dylan’s story next month, and Brendan’s the month after that. And for more news about my upcoming releases, visit my new Web site at www.katehoffmann.com.

Happy reading,

Kate Hoffmann

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Karin Vander Schaaf, Who knew the answers to my Boston questions before I even asked.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

THE WIND HOWLED and the rain raged outside the tiny house on Kilgore Street in South Boston. The nor’easter had battered the working-class neighborhood for nearly two days, the pleasant autumn sunshine giving way to the first sting of winter.

Conor Quinn tugged the threadbare blanket around his youngest brothers, sleeping three to a bed. The twins, Sean and Brian, were already half-asleep, their eyes glazed with exhaustion. And the baby, three-year-old Liam, lay curled between them, his breathing gone soft and even, his dark lashes feathered over chubby cheeks.

But Dylan and Brendan were still wide awake, the two of them perched on the end of their bed, listening raptly as their father, Seamus Quinn, spun another tale. It was well past eleven and the boys should have been asleep. While his father was away, Conor made sure bedtime was strictly adhered to on school nights. But Seamus, a swordfisherman by profession, stayed in port only a week or two before heading out to sea for months at a time. And with winter coming, his father and the crew of The Mighty Quinn would be heading farther south, following the swordfish into the warmer waters of the Caribbean.

“This is a story of your long-ago ancestor, Eamon Quinn. Eamon was a clever laddie, so clever he could build a nest in your ear.”

Conor listened with half an ear to Seamus’s colorful tale, wondering whether he’d ever find a proper time to bring up Dylan’s failures in math class, or Brendan’s habit of pinching candy from the local market, or the immunizations that Brian and Sean still needed for school. But one subject had to be discussed, a problem his father refused to acknowledge.

Mrs. Smalley, their neighbor and regular baby-sitter, was up to a quart of vodka a day. Concerned for the safety of his three youngest brothers, Conor had been anxious to find another person to watch the little ones while he and Dylan and Brendan were at school. Social Services had already paid a surprise visit and he’d managed to hustle them off with an elaborate excuse about Mrs. Smalley’s allergies. But if the social workers realized he cared for his five brothers almost entirely on his own, they’d declare neglect and send them all to an orphanage.

“One fine day, Eamon was fishing off the Isle of Shadows. As he passed by a rocky shore, he saw a beautiful lass standing near the water’s edge, her long hair blowing in the breeze. His heart swelled and his face shone, for Eamon had never seen a more lovely creature.”