She’d been celibate ever since, and assured herself she was happy that way. She didn’t have a choice, after all. But for some reason, this man suddenly made her feel like a nun peering out the convent gate, longing for what she could never have.

Thank God he was leaving.

He kept his foot in the door. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Please. I’m looking for Moira Mariposa, Elizabeth Alicia, and Deirdre Dolores Fortune. I’m researching a book.’

‘Our name’s O’Brien.’ Mare stopped trying to kick his foot away. A book?’

He nodded. About Phil and Fiona Fortune. That’s your real name, isn’t it? You just took O’Brien as an alias when you moved here.’

Dee shut her eyes, suddenly sick. Oh, hell. Didn’t it just figure? She couldn’t even have a decent fantasy without it blowing up in her face.

‘No, our name really is O’Brien,’ Mare said. And we don’t know anybody named Fortune. Would we lie to you?’

‘Since I got your alias from your parents’ old commune members, I’d say that’s a yes,’ he said, perfectly calm for all the disaster he was unleashing. ‘I was hoping to at least talk to your oldest sister, Deirdre.’

‘She doesn’t want to talk to you,’ Dee chirped. ‘Get rid of him.’

Her heart was slamming against her tiny chest. Her head threatened to explode again. It wasn’t fair. They’d run so far, hidden so well. And here was the man of her dreams – well, her dust – blithely threatening to do a great big Geraldo on them.

‘Thanks,’ Mare said, ‘but no thanks. Now if you’d move your foot so I could close this door-’

He just kept smiling. ‘That’s what I was told you’d say.’

‘Really?’ Mare asked. And here I thought I was being delightfully unpredictable. Go away.’

‘Find out who told him who we are,’ Dee begged.