“This for one thing,” Enoch replied archly, striding forward to yank the bag from her hands. He didn’t especially want it and had been quite prepared to tell Jemima it was lost and to let that be a lesson to her about being such a trusting child when it came to strangers, but that certainly didn’t mean he wanted her to have it. Jemima rarely carried money – largely because she had a tendency to give it away and thus couldn’t be trusted with such responsibility – but there were sure to be things in there that this banshee would somehow use against the family.

Merlin, how was it possible that she somehow belonged to a half-decent family? Not a proper family, not the sort he would ever be seen dead with outside of work, but certainly nothing as bleak as the MacFustys or whatever savage clan of druids Connolly hailed from. It really did beggar belief and it was still irritating that she held the finest features of any woman he had ever seen; a sort of belle dame sans merci that would lead him to doom. Assuming she didn’t simply kill him first.

“Who stole it? Did you see?” He demanded, looking around, sure despite everything that she wasn’t the culprit.

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Indecently attractive set by MJ