Irish Sex Fairy: Ellora's Cave

by Kelly Jamieson

  Irish Sex Fairy

  Kelly Jamieson

  The Irish Sex Fairy believes sex will cure all problems…

  So says Great-aunt Maeve, owner of the Irish Sex Fairy, a sex shop in Kilkenny, California. When stressed-out Keara visits Maeve after a hostage situation where she was held at gunpoint, she’s ready to try anything to get over the flashbacks and nightmares and intense guilt over her role in the incident.

  Enter sexy Shane Dunstan, Kilkenny’s deputy police chief and old flame of Keara’s. With black hair and blue eyes and a body a girl could easily lose herself in for a lifetime, he’s perfect for putting Maeve’s remedy to the test. He’s more than happy to help. A lot.

  But while all the sizzling sex does seem to make Keara feel better, it creates a whole new set of problems. Keara needs to overcome her fears and get back to her career, but that means leaving Shane and Maeve. And when the past comes back to haunt her in a terrifying encounter, she’s about to find out just how effective Maeve’s cure-all is.

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Irish Sex Fairy

  ISBN 9781419924170

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Irish Sex Fairy Copyright © 2009 Kelly Jamieson

  Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book publication October 2009

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Irish Sex Fairy

  Kelly Jamieson

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Abercrombie and Fitch: Abercrombie & Fitch Company Corporation

  Bersa: Bersa, S.A. Corporation

  BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft Corporation

  Donna Karan: Gabrielle Studio, Inc.

  FedEx: Federal Express Corporation

  Game Boy: Nintendo of America Inc.

  Glock: Glock, Inc.

  Google: Google Inc.

  Guinness: Arthur Guinness Son & Company Limited

  Henckels: ZWILLING J.A. Henckels

  Home Depot: Homer TLC, Inc.

  Jameson’s: Irish Distillers Limited

  Jeep Liberty: DaimlerChrysler Corporation

  Jell-O: Kraft Foods Holdings, Inc.

  John Deere: Deere & Company

  NASCAR: National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing, Inc.

  Sex and the City: Home Box Office, Inc.

  Shalimar: Guerlein, Inc.

  Stetson: John B. Stetson Company

  Stuart Weitzman: Stuart Weitzman IP, LLC

  USPS: United States Postal Service

  Viagra: Pfizer Inc.

  Chapter One

  Los Angeles, California

  Keara slid her shaking arms around bent knees and hugged them, the marble floor of the bank lobby cold and hard beneath her bottom.

  Nervous energy shimmered around her, her employees also crouched on the floor. Soft sniffles from Carla filled the heavy silence.

  “Shut up!” The words echoed in the lobby, stone floors and columns reflecting the sound waves. The man in the balaclava glared at Carla. Carla gasped. The tension thickened.

  “Please,” Keara said. “Let them go. I’ll stay.” They’d been like this for almost an hour.

  “No!”

  At that moment an explosion rocked the building, shattering the dense quiet. Screams and crying erupted around Keara, and she grabbed Jessica beside her.

  “What the hell!” The robber froze, then lunged for Keara and dragged her to her feet. His fingers dug painfully into her arm.

  “Police! Nobody move!” A voice thundered over the chaos from the direction where the explosion had occurred. They’d blasted a hole in the wall between the bank and the office building next door.

  Two men dressed in black bulletproof vests, ball caps and carrying what looked like machine guns appeared, weapons pointed in the direction of the people huddled on the floor of the bank.

  Oh dear God. Machine guns. Keara’s gaze flickered to the others, back to the police officers, just as terrifying to her as the man who now wrapped an arm around her throat and pointed his own gun at her head with his other hand.

  She was going to die. If the police tried to shoot the robber they could kill her too. If they didn’t, the robber would.

  Three guns. All pointed at her.

  Her whole body shook as the robber started walking backward, dragging her with him. His arm tightened on her esophagus. Her eyes bulged and she gasped for air.

  “Put your gun down!” an officer shouted.

  “Like hell,” the robber muttered. He dragged Keara into a hallway and then the vault area.

  She fought him. She wasn’t going to die without trying. She clawed his arm, twisted and jerked against him. She felt the damp of his clothing, smelled his sweat. Her throat ached. Reaching up, she grabbed hold of the balaclava covering his face, squeezed it tightly, and as they struggled he hauled her into the vault.

  He shoved the door shut behind them then released her with a push that sent her to her knees. Her fingers still clutched the soft knit hat and it came with her as she fell. Her knees burned and she stayed on all fours, panting, frozen, waiting for the shot that would end her life from behind her.

  She heard the click of the door lock.

  She turned around and rose up on her knees to face the robber, every muscle tight and quivering. Oh Jesus.

  Gary.

  She knew him.

  He’d worked as a security guard at this branch for what…twenty years? Until six weeks ago. When she’d fired him.

  “Gary,” she whispered, covering her mouth with her fingers. “What are you doing?”

  “I told you what I’m doing. I want half a million dollars. And I want it now. Or you are going to die.”

  “But—” She began to climb to her feet, but he sprang at her and knocked her back down. The hard floor smacked her butt and her breath whooshed out of her.

  Oh God. Frantic thoughts tumbled around in her head. What was he doing here? Why was he doing this? Was he crazy? How could she have never noticed he was psycho?

  “You fired me.” Sweat dripped down his face, flushed cheeks grizzled with gray stubble. Thick gray brows lowered over his eyes as he stared at her. Her stomach clenched. The gun still watched her with that steady eye. “You ruined my life. And my family’s life.”

  Keara’s mouth quivered and she swallowed painfully. “It was a business decision,” she choked out. “It was nothin
g against you personally, Gary. I had to make cuts. It came from head office. This branch hasn’t been performing well.”

  “That’s why they transferred you here, isn’t it? That’s why they made you manager. A hatchet lady.”

  She shook her head, but it was more or less true. She had been charged with turning the branch around when made manager a year ago. She’d spent the last year working her ass off, trying to improve the branch’s performance and minimize the cuts that had to be done. She stared at him.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I had to do it. They wanted twenty positions cut. I got it down to eight. Only eight people had to go.” And Gary had been one of them.

  “Great,” he sneered. “That doesn’t help me, does it?”

  She licked her lips.

  A warbling ring tone came from his pocket and they both froze. Still holding the gun with his right hand, he reached for the phone, slowly brought it out and flipped it open. “Yeah?”

  Keara’s stomach churned. She could only hear one side of the conversation.

  “I want the money,” he snapped. His eyes shifted to Keara and then he stepped away from her, paced up and down the hall in the back of the bank. “I won’t kill her if I get the money.”

  It must be the SWAT team again. They’d talked to him earlier on the bank phone, when he’d given them directions about where to park a car for him to leave with the money. With her.

  Her stomach tightened along with every quivering muscle in her body. God. She was going to die. Right here, right now. She was only thirty-one years old.

  “How’d you know who I am?” he demanded into the phone.

  Keara resisted the urge to look at the security camera up high in the corner of the room. Gary had been a security guard. Did he not remember it was there? The police were probably watching them. She closed her eyes briefly then opened them again as he spoke.

  “I’m not telling you that,” he snarled into the phone. “Have you got the car ready? ’Cause Miss Callaghan and I are coming out in a few minutes.” A pause. “Yeah, I said an hour. But now I know I can’t trust you, I’m coming out sooner. With the money.” He looked at her. “Right, Miss Callaghan?”

  She stared at him. What was she supposed to do? What?

  Gary was listening to the voice at the other end of the phone line. “Of course I can do it. After what she did to me, it won’t be hard to put a bullet in her head.”

  Oh. Oh no. She swept a hand over her hair, loosened from its usual low ponytail she wore to work. Would he really do it? She could not believe the man she’d worked with for almost a year, who’d greeted her every day with a cheerful good morning, would actually shoot her. But this man…was not Gary. He was different. Desperate. Tense. Oh Lord.

  “What do I care?” he said. “I got nothing to live for.” Another pause. “Yeah. But she doesn’t even know who I am anymore.” His voice cracked. “I just wanna make sure she’s gonna be okay.”

  Keara swallowed. Who was he talking about? Clearly it wasn’t her, since he’d just said he’d shoot her in the head. Her brain turned frantically. His wife? Had she heard something about his wife being sick? How bad was it? Why would he do this?

  “Just get the car ready. Fifteen minutes.” He snapped the phone shut and shoved it into the pocket of the navy windbreaker he wore.

  He gestured with the gun. “Get over there.”

  She scuttled into the corner.

  He pulled out a shopping bag from another pocket. “Let’s put the money into this.”

  “I can’t do that, Gary.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. I need another person to get into the vault.”

  “Bullshit! You’re the manager! You know how to get in.”

  She pressed her trembling lips together. He was right. She could.

  “Why are you doing this, Gary?”

  He stood before her, legs spread, gun pointed at her. “You fired me. I can’t get a job. Who’s gonna hire someone my age? I worked my whole adult life here at the bank, and for what? A measly severance package that didn’t even last six weeks.” He paused, his throat working. “This is my only chance. To look after my wife.”

  “What’s wrong with your wife?”

  He glared at her, then his gaze drifted away. “She has Alzheimer’s. Doesn’t even know me anymore, sometimes. Doesn’t know our son. She’s in a home. They look after her there, but…it costs money. I got no money.” His voice thickened. “What do you expect me to do?”

  Keara’s gaze flicked from the gun back to his face.

  “Oh Gary.” The words sighed out of her. “I didn’t know that.”

  “What difference does it make? You saying you wouldn’t have fired me, if you’d known? Bullshit! You fired Mike and he has a brand-new baby to support. Born too early. Needs all kind of expensive care. You don’t give a shit about anyone. All you care about is the bottom line. Money. Numbers. That’s all we are to you.”

  “That’s not true,” she whispered. She did care about her staff. But she had a job to do.

  His cell phone trilled again, an incongruous cheery sound in the echoing room. He opened it. “What?” This time he listened for a while. “Yeah. That’s right.” His shoulder slumped a little. “I know. Yeah. I know.” He paced across the room, but kept Keara in his sights. She sat there, gaze fastened to him, his earlier words buzzing through her head.

  This was all her fault. If she hadn’t fired him, he wouldn’t be so desperate as to do this. She was going to die because of it. How could she make this right? She leaned her head back against the wall. Sweat prickled her underarms. Heat suffocated her. She wiped a hand over her mouth.

  “Let me talk to her,” Gary said. He looked defeated. “Let me talk to her. Then I’ll come out.” Pause. “Yeah. With Miss Callaghan.”

  A moment of silence while Gary paced again across the room. “Rosie? Hi, baby. How are you?” His face changed, his eyes softer, his mouth unsteady as if he might cry.

  Keara’s heart squeezed and ached. She put a hand to her mouth and watched him. Listened.

  “I love you, Rosie. Just remember that, okay? Always remember I love you.”

  Oh God. What was he going to do? It sounded as if he thought he’d never see her again. Panic trickled down her spine in a cold drizzle. Her legs twitched on the floor.

  He closed the phone and gestured again with the gun. “Stand up.”

  She rose to her feet, legs weak and shaky. He opened the door and stood aside. “Go on.”

  She stared at him. “What?

  “You can leave. Go.” He motioned with the gun again.

  “Just go?” She couldn’t believe it. Would he shoot her in the back as she walked away? And why wasn’t he coming?

  He nodded, subdued, an aura of overwhelming loss and defeat surrounding him. Keara stopped. What was he going to do? Oh God. Oh no. She knew why he wasn’t coming. Her stomach heaved.

  Now her fear wasn’t for herself. “Gary.” She put out a hand. “Come with me.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. They’ll put me in jail.”

  Throat squeezing, chest aching, she shook her head. “We’ll find a way, Gary. A way to help Rosie.”

  “Yeah right. I told you. There is no way. Not anymore. This was my last hope. I told you to go!”

  “No! The bank can help you. Please, Gary, come with me. We’ll work something out. We’ll look at an early pension payout, maybe a way to continue your benefits, some kind of loan…there are lots of options.”

  His eyes, earlier stony and cold, regarded her with cautious hope for a stretched out moment. “Really?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, Gary. I really am. I’ll try to help. To make up for it.” And she would. Her heart ached for the pain she’d seen in him when he talked to his wife. She’d never loved someone like that, but it had to be excruciating, to see someone you loved dying from the inside out, slowly, not even knowing who you were anymore.

&
nbsp; He considered it. She waited, legs so shaky she thought she might fall down. So close. Would he do it?

  “You know I keep my word,” she said softly. “I may have to make decisions people don’t like, but…I’ve always done what I said I would.”

  He still hesitated, stared at her warily.

  “Okay.” He bent down and grabbed the balaclava off the floor and pulled it on.

  Why was he doing that? They already knew who he was. Her gut tightened again. He took hold of her, this time in a firm but not painful grasp, still holding the gun on her.

  Was he being honest? Or was he still going to kill her? Her heart thudded painfully as he gently urged her forward, down the hall and into the lobby of the bank. But the anguish and love she’d seen in this man’s eyes were not the emotions of a cold-blooded killer. As they moved forward, him behind her, his hands on her but this time gentle, she knew he wouldn’t kill her. Probably never had intended to kill her.

  “Keep your hands up and in sight,” he told her.

  Why? Obediently, she did so as they walked out the front door of the bank.

  Oh Jesus. In the sunshine outside the bank, a spinning impression of crowds of people, television cameras, SWAT officers, guns, vans and cars assaulted her. She kept her hands up. Gary held the gun pressed to the side of her head.

  His finger could accidentally pull the trigger. Even if he didn’t intend to kill her anymore. One of those SWAT officers could shoot her, aiming for him. They could scare him and his finger could so easily…pull…the…trigger.

  Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot.

  Her eyes flickered around. Distant shouts mingled with Gary’s harsh breathing in her ear. A loud pop split the commotion. Gary’s weight dragged her down, the pavement of the sidewalk meeting her knees in a harsh kiss, and she cried out.

  Chapter Two

  She never felt more alone than in the middle of the night, when the world was dark and quiet and still, everyone else asleep in their beds.