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“ U ntil a few weeks ago, I had no idea you had any mood other than chillaxed,” Emma commented as she handed Colin a cold beer.

Aidan drew her onto his lap and rubbed small circles on her back. “Another American colloquialism?”

“It means relaxed and happy. If you look it up in a dictionary, you’ll see Colin’s picture under the word,” she replied, snuggling back into him.

“Well, in the last edition, anyway,” Reilly deadpanned, popping the cap from his own beverage with a flick of his thumb. “In the most recent one, you’ll find his likeness under other words, such as ‘fool,’ ‘idiot,’ and ‘sucker.’”

Colin gritted his teeth. “Despite this utterly fascinating discussion about lexicons, could we please focus on what we’re going to do next?

” His words were punctuated by a loud rumble of thunder, and he glanced out the window, into Reilly’s back garden.

Though it was early, not quite sunset, the sky was a sea of dark, swirling clouds.

The storm clouds began to gather when he, Ellie, and James landed in Dublin, then seemed to chase them all the way to Reilly’s house .

“There’s something unnatural about this weather,” James said in a low voice.

“Aye.” Reilly took a pull from his bottle. “The Fates are scunnered again.”

“Scunnered?” Emma asked, puzzled.

“Angry,” Colin translated. “What did you do this time?”

Reilly shrugged. “Don’t worry about it; it’s my concern.”

“Not if they blow down this house with us inside of it,” Emma pointed out nervously as another clap of thunder shook the walls.

“Like I said,” Reilly repeated, his tone brooking no argument, “it’s my concern.”

“Despite the weather, I think staying in Ireland is a good idea,” James noted, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “The entertainment news outlets are still all over Ellie.”

“Poor lass. Not the easiest time of it, for sure,” Reilly agreed. “It would be nice if she had some protection .”

“Leave off,” Colin growled, tensing.

“What?” Reilly asked innocently. “I’m certain she could use someone to lean on in these trying times.”

“This is interesting,” Aidan mused, leaning back in his chair and watching Colin speculatively.

“I think a Protector is just what she needs,” James added with a smirk.

“Yes,” Colin snapped. “Let’s talk about her security detail while she’s on her dates.”

Reilly shook his head slowly. “I think we should instead talk about how our fearless matchmaking leader here has found his soul mate.”

Aidan’s jaw hung open. “Really?”

“Yep,” James answered, peering into the bottle. “She’s pretty special.”

Colin ignored him and looked to Emma for help. “So we’re in a bit of a tough spot. Reg decided he wants to try a date with Ellie. ”

Emma smiled at him, and when she replied, he felt relief that she would help him to steer the conversation away from the subject at hand. “I know he claims he’s changed, but he’s been such an ogre for the past year. Can’t we just drop him as a client?”

“And admit defeat?” Colin clucked. “Nope.”

“But Ellie is so sweet…” Emma trailed off.

“For what it’s worth, I think he’s changed for the better, though it remains to be seen if the change is permanent.

But their suitability isn’t the main concern here.

Emsworth gave me her list of must-haves.

It’s a bit different than Ellie’s.” He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Emma.

“Chew on this for a moment.” He watched as she scanned the bulleted list, her eyes nearly popping from her head.

“Emsworth wants a title for her?”

“British is preferable, but Scottish, Irish, or Welsh would do,” Colin replied wryly. He added, “If we match Ellie with someone who would take her away from the UK or Ireland, Emsworth won’t retract the article, title or not.” Colin could almost see the steam coming out of Emma’s ears.

“But…that’s Ellie’s drop-dead!”

“Drop-dead” was a term Celtic Connections used internally to refer to an item on a client’s red flag list. Many times, a client would refuse to entertain the idea of a person with qualities such as poor hygiene, someone of a certain profession, or, in some cases, an income less than their own.

Most clients had multiple items on their drop-dead lists, but Ellie had given them just one.

No aristocrats.

“This is a disaster. The country—and her aunt—expects you to make a high-profile match, but you’ll have to go directly against her wishes!” she asked. “Unless…wait a second. Reginald doesn’t have a title. Oh, boy. I see the mess now. Has she agreed to the date with him yet?”

“She did. ”

“So if she matches with him, then what? The article won’t be retracted?” Aidan asked.

“I’ve got to hold out hope that Ellie’s happiness—and the fact the Reginald lives half the year in England—will override the lack of title,” Emma replied, worried.

“Actually,” Colin cut in, “the title isn’t an issue, as he’s in line to become a baron or something.”

Emma blinked. “Um…wow. Okay. I didn’t know that. Does she know that?”

Colin shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I wasn’t there when they had their initial get-together, and Mike didn’t mention if it was brought up.”

“You’ve got to tell her what her aunt’s demanded,” James said firmly. “Especially if this guy doesn’t work out. You’re backed into a corner if Ellie doesn’t want a title and her aunt won’t retract if she doesn’t get one.”

“Absolutely not,” Colin said with conviction. “That’s part of this deal. Emsworth knows her niece won’t go for a titled man. She’s not trying to make it easy on us. It’s part of her twisted game.”

“Did you learn anything more about Ellie’s preferences while you were in the States?” Emma asked hopefully.

“She likes seafood.”

“And Mom’s pancakes,” James supplied helpfully.

“She’s certainly not going to volunteer any information,” Aidan mused.

At the questioning looks from the others, he explained, “Think about it logically. She doesn’t seem to be the most willing lass you’ve ever matched.

She’s doing it out of obligation to her aunt, who has nothing to gain professionally if you successfully match her.

If she’s as wily as Emsworth, I’d bet the coast—”

“The farm,” Emma corrected gently.

“Right. If she’s as wily as the old bat, I’d bet the farm she’s going to put you through your paces.”

“Most women want the same core essentials: a man who listens, is generous, and who’s kind to children and the elderly. Good looking with enough money in the bank to live comfortably. Plug those qualities into the system and set up an additional match,” Colin said darkly.

Emma gaped at him. “But, Colin…that’s not how we operate!”

“Want to know what I think?” Reilly asked to the room at large.

“No,” Colin said with feeling at the same time Aidan shook his head and exclaimed, “Nay!”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Of course we do, Ry.”

“Each Protector has a soul mate,” Reilly said quietly, rolling his beer bottle slowly between his hands.

He glanced at Emma. “Just one soul mate, to be exact. One soul mate, through all time. The Protector, once he claims her, is bound to her for all time. If she loves him and claims him in return, their bond will be unbreakable.”

“That is utterly romantic,” Emma breathed.

“It’s utterly inconvenient,” Colin muttered, wishing desperately that Reilly would just let it go.

Since the moment they’d arrived last night, Reilly seemed to have sensed something.

He wouldn’t stop talking about how Colin couldn’t give her up, how Celtic Connections would be fine without a UK base, how his happiness needed to be a priority.

Reilly ignored him. “The two souls don’t rest in peace until they’ve both claimed the other. But if he claims her and she doesn’t love him in return, the Protector is destined to never find love again.”

“What happens to his mate?”

Reilly shrugged. “I’ve seen it only once, and she seemed if not happy, then content. Her Protector, however, lived in perpetual hell until his own death, which he welcomed gratefully. Though I suspect he hasn’t any peace in the afterlife. ”

Aidan swore softly, noting the pinched expression on Colin’s face. “I’m so sorry, mate.”

“Sorry for what?” Emma asked, completely confused. Then she gasped as the pieces clicked. “Ellie’s your soul mate?”

Colin gave a single, vehement shake of his head. “Nope.”

Reilly regarded him with cool eyes. “You’re ten times the fool.”

“Oh, give it up, O’Malley!” Colin finally exploded. “You of all people understand why I won’t claim a soul mate! Nor would I want to, considering my duties outside of Celtic Connections—”

“How do you claim a soul mate?” Emma interrupted.

“You must say the words. You’re not bound until the words are spoken aloud as a declaration to the Fates.”

“Let me get this straight.” James stroked his chin. “When a Protector finds his soul mate, he can choose to bind himself to her—”

“Or him,” Emma added.

“Or him,” James agreed, “and then he’s tied to that person for all time. If that person reciprocates, and claims the Protector back, then their bond is unbreakable and they what? Live happily ever after?”

“As much as possible, aye.”

“But if a Protector claims his mate and she refuses him, then he’s reduced to never finding love again? Ever?”

“Ever.”

“You’re not an aristocrat,” Emma said suddenly, focusing on Colin. “But you’re rich enough to be one. Maybe that will suffice for her aunt. But more importantly, if she’s your soul mate, you would make her happy, Col. And she would make you happy. And that’s worth more than a business.”

Colin’s jaw tensed. “I’m not an option.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “But, if she’s your mate, you’re the only option! ”