by Tonya Nagle
couldn’t he be surrounded by beautiful women who wanted to pleasure him in
the last moments he had on earth?
His gaze slid over the goddess, Scáthach with a body that screamed warrior
with her firm taunt arms and thighs. Her height may intimidate some men, but
he was tall and liked the idea that she would fit to him perfectly. He had a hunch
the woman had passion aplenty, but she made it perfectly clear that she wanted
to train him in the art of warfare—not make love to him. She took his breath
away with a mere glance and his lower extremity wanted her in the worse way.
Didn’t it figure? He lay on his deathbed but his body still craved the feel of a
woman beneath him. He supposed it was true. Men did have two brains and his
lower one ached something horrible and the cure stood right in front of him in
the form of a goddess.
Scáthach arched one perfectly formed eyebrow, giving him the distinct
feeling she read his mind.
“Well?” she asked, her lips threatening to smile.
For a moment he didn’t know what she asked. Then it dawned on him. She
wanted to train him for battle and wanted his permission to proceed. What the
hell? Why not? She didn’t look inclined to give into his more basic physical need.
Perhaps a good workout would take his mind off what he couldn’t have. “Fine. I’ll
train.”
She nodded her approval, giving him the feeling he had passed some kind of
test. He followed her out to the battlefield where other young men of various ages
practiced their moves, some with a sword others with battleaxes. His fingers
caressed the cool metal at his side. He once held a sword when he had attended a
Scottish Festival with his nephew, but he had never wielded one in a battle—
pretend or real. His thoughts wavered to Joey, wondering how he was doing.
Was he all right? Was someone looking after him? He hoped he was keeping up
with his school work and—
“He will be fine.” Scáthach spoke, breaking through his thoughts.
“What?”
“Your nephew is strong. You’ve done well by him. No matter what happens,
he will be all right.”
For some reason her words soothed him and he believed her.
“We’ll start with something simple like hand to hand combat first.”
“Okay. Who will I fight?”
Her rich chuckle had him lifting a brow. “You’ll fight me of course.”
“I couldn’t. I might hurt you.”
“Really?” Her voice held a note of doubt.
He rolled his eyes. She may be in shape, but he wasn’t a pushover. Besides,
he was taught never to hit a woman. “Truly, I don’t want…”
Before he could finish his sentence, Scáthach had swept her leg in back of his
knees, sending him sprawling to the ground in an embarrassed heap. He looked
up, shading his eyes to see her standing there with her hands on her hips and
grinning down at him.
“As you were saying,” she said haughtily and sauntered away.
He leapt to his feet. So this was how she wanted to play. A smile slid into
place. He could play rough when need be.
He went after her, intent of bringing her down and holding her there until
she realized he was the stronger of the two.
She slammed her fist into his sternum with a series of powerful blows before
sending a kick to the groin and a whack across his back that sent him to his
knees. “What the hell,” he wheezed.
She knelt down beside him. “Are you going to stop fooling around now?”
Fooling around? Was the woman mad? With a swift move he took her down
hard, using his full weight to hold her, but damn if the woman didn’t have moves
he had never seen in his life. Before he knew it, he was the one on his back with
her straddling him. He would have liked the position if she hadn’t insisted in
beating him to a pulp. Her fist slammed into his nose, sending a fine spray of
crimson blood in the air.
“I think you broke my nose,” he wailed.
“Oh aye. I did.” She jumped off him and bounced on the balls of her feet.
“Come on. Stand and greet me like a man.”
He was seeing stars and she waved to him, enticing him to come after her.
“Now stop playing around and give me your best shot, Trey. Or don’t you
have it in you?”
Fine, he hadn’t started this fight, but he was damn well going to finish it. He
jumped to his feet, wiping away the blood from his nose with the back of his
hand. He went after her.
He fought or rather he defended her blows and finally got in a few of his own.
He was one bloody and bruised up mess by the time she was through with him.
She still looked like a goddess with her dark silky hair shining bright in the sun’s
rays. Her blue eyes assessed him with a wicked gleam.
He lay sprawled on the ground for the hundredth time, trying to catch his
breath. She stood over him, offering her hand to help him up. “Truce,” she said.
“You’ve had enough for one day.”
“Geeze, thanks.” He took hold of her hand and came to his feet. Funny how
he ached everywhere imaginable and yet he’d never felt more alive. It was as if he
had somehow made it through a trial of some sort and had come out the victor.
“Aye, you did well,” she said, again with that mind reading ability of hers.
He gave her a half-cocked smile, mostly because his lip was swollen. “You
beat the crap out of me and you’re telling me I did well.”
“Aye. You did well. You lived and will have another day to fight. There is no
dishonor in that. Now come with me. There is a spring that will heal your wounds
and I’ll rub a herb ointment on your body to sooth the tension in your muscles.”
“Now that sounds like something I’ll enjoy.”
The gleam in her pale blue eyes raked over him. “You were good on the field.
You have the heart of a warrior. I wonder how you are when it comes to bed
play.”
Did she just ask him how he was in bed?
“No answer?” She stepped closer, running her hand leisurely up his arm,
using only her fingertips.
“I…that is…I have had no complaints,” he sputtered and cursed under his
breath for his lack of finesse.
A low chuckle reached his red-tipped ears. “We shall see, won’t we?” Then
she turned on her heels expecting him to follow.
Of course he did. How could he not?
He thought he would be led back to the tent but his quarters were within the
castle of Dú Scáith, a fine stone structure with all the comforts of home. Fragrant
rushes covered the wood floor of his room. The sconces were lit and a warm
roaring fire glowed red and orange within the fireplace, adding more light. He
smiled when he caught sight of the large spacious bed that stood near the hearth
with furs spread across it for added warmth. This may be a dream of some sort,
but Dú Scáith was in the heart of Scotland or Alba as it once was called and the
nights could be quite chilly.
Draped in a towel that one of the servants had left for him, he followed the
steps down to the lower level of the castle where a hot spring waited for him.
Scáthach told him the waters would sooth his aching muscle
s and heal his
wounds. He hoped she was right. His muscles felt stretched to the limit and pain
throbbed in places he didn’t know could ache with such a burning intensity. Even
his hair hurt, if that was possible. Probably from the few times Scáthach had
managed to drag his sorry ass back into the fight. He had never met anyone who
was that determined to make him throw a punch. “You have the heart of a
warrior” , she told him. Somehow that image fell short when he tried to imagine
himself wielding a sword. He was a professor at a community college and the
only physical strain his muscles endured was a trip to the gym four times a week.
This was all before he became ill three months ago. Only yesterday, lifting his
head off the pillow had proved to be a challenge. However, in this realm his
destiny had shifted. He wasn’t lying in a hospital bed. He was being trained for
warfare by a goddess. “Just go with the flow, Brennan and see where it leads
you,” he mumbled under his breath.
The room below the castle was actually a cave. Rock forms of different sizes
surrounded the spring and steps were carved out of the stones to give easier
access into the pool. He left the towel on one of the rocks and slid beneath the
froth that churned on the water’s surface. Warmth immediately seeped into his
pores like tiny massaging fingertips, working to smooth the kinks out of his tired
muscles. The rhythmic rise and fall of the water churning and rippling around
him lulled him until he felt his eyelids closing. He jerked awake, knowing he
couldn’t fall asleep while he lounged in a pool, unless he fancied a death by
drowning.
He waded toward the steps intent on retrieving his towel and heading back
to his quarters, but his gaze locked onto a vision walking toward him, a sacred
beauty draped in a transparent garment. “Scáthach.” His voice came out in
breathless wonderment. He wanted to cross the chasm that separated them and
take her into his arms, feel the softness of her flesh as his hands caressed her.
Damn, he would sell his soul for just one kiss.
The seductive smile she threw at him made his body heat to a boiling point
and he feared he’d melt into the bubbling froth of the spring.
“Were you expecting someone else, Trey Brennan?”
He loved the way his name rolled off her tongue as if she were a siren calling
him home. “No. I didn’t think you’d…” He cleared his throat. To hell with what
he thought. She was here and it looked like she planned on joining him. If she
did, it would be at her own risk. She may be the master on the field, but this was
his battleground and his skills of seduction would make her surrender to his will.
He would win her over until a throbbing desire rolled into one slow roll of want.
She seemed to sense what he wanted and let the thin garment that covered
her slide off her shoulders and pool at her feet. She sure had a body that pushed
all his buttons. Her hair cascaded over one shoulder in riotous waves of black
silk. She was a warrior firm and strong but also feminine with luscious curves
beckoning him to touch. “You’re heart-stopping gorgeous,” he told her in all
honesty.
Her long legged gait was a pleasure to watch as she sauntered over to the
pool. Her skin was smooth as silk and for a second he questioned his ability to
seduce her. She was doing a mighty fine job of seducing him, but heck that was
easy. All she had to do was show up.
She entered the water and glided toward him. Her hands caressed his chest
with purpose. “Your heart is beating strong for one that has stopped.”
“It’s only an expression. You’re so beautiful.” He took her in his arms, feeling
every curve against his body. God in heaven, he wanted her. She leaned close as if
to kiss him, but her tongue stroked his lips with a soft sensual lick. If there had
been any doubt of his need to take her, there was no uncertainty now. His hands
plunged into her hair, pulling her head closer and with one smooth move covered
her mouth with his own. Her lips demanded long slow kisses that would cloud
the mind and he ravished with pleasure. His tongue boldly swept in and took
more, kissing her over and over again like there was no tomorrow.
Energy flowed between them and every cell in his body erupted with the
need to be inside of her. She must have sensed his need or maybe it mirrored her
own. She wrapped her legs around his waist, giving him access to what his body
craved. His hand stroked her back, finding the deep curve that gave rise to her
firm bottom. Tilting her hips, his swollen and rigid flesh filled her completely.
Her gasp slid along his senses, making his body ache with need for release, but
not yet. Aware of the strength and warmth of her flesh, he wanted to savor the
embrace. Gripping a fist full of her hair, he slanted his mouth over hers with a
hungry kiss. She opened her mouth eagerly, welcoming the feel of his tongue
stroking hers. A low growl of approval vibrated from her as she gave in to the
pleasure he offered. He hadn’t moved inside her, but already her hot tunnel
clutched and gripped him, threatening to make him lose his control.
Her mouth tore away from his with breathless abandonment and light
smoldered in the liquid blue of her eyes. “Now, my warrior.”
There was no mistaking her meaning. His hands held her hips as their bodies
moved in time with the hypnotic sound of the water lapping against the rocks.
She clung to him desperately and his eyes closed relishing the way her flesh felt
warm and soft against him. His heart thudded erratically against his chest,
wanting more of her. He sunk into her body over and over again until the heady
rush of pleasure ignited as she spiraled up and over, taking him with her.
His mouth found hers again and his fingers slid into her hair, bringing her
closer as he plundered her lips with a kiss that was sure to reach her soul.
His eyes opened and he looked at her with a satisfied smile. “You are a
goddess.”
Her mouth pressed against the pulse in his neck. “Aye, I know.” Her
seductive voice caressed him.
He could feel himself hardening inside of her again.
She pulled away to look at him in surprise. “My you’re a generous lover.”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It might be selfishness on my part. It’s been
a long time.”
Her gaze met his with a mischievous gleam. “You were strong and
determined on the field today, my warrior.” Her hand slid down his back,
bringing every nerve ending to life. “As a reward, I’m honor bound to serve you
this night.”
God, if he had died, then this was indeed heaven.
Chapter Five
Centuries had come and gone with her never finding a worthy partner. Trey
Brennan had proved a surprise. She gave herself freely and he in turn had been a
generous lover, catering to her needs with pleasure. She was a goddess and men
worshiped her for many reasons, but Trey had treated her as a woman.
He slept soundly now, his breath slow and even as it should be in slumber.
His body needed rest and time to rejuvenate. The hot spring’s magical properties
&
nbsp; had healed and mended his body in this realm, erasing the effects of the rigorous
training he had endured yesterday. His skin was smooth and unblemished and
when he awakened his muscles would feel worked but not worn.
Lying on her back, her gaze turned toward the window where she could see
the silvery light as it broke through the thick cover of darkness. The new day
dawned and her warrior would have to battle once more.
“You’re awake.” His deep voice was rough from sleep.
She turned toward him with a smile touching her lips. His hair was in
disarray, standing on end with strands falling over his brow. Exquisite perfection
with just a touch of wildness is how she liked her men and Trey Brennan was all
that and more. “Aye. You have a long day ahead of you. Today you must learn the
art of wielding a sword and …” she trailed off, wondering if she should teach him
what she had taught Cú Chulainn. He seemed worthy or was her mind clouded
by their love play? Trey may be a man, but he loved like a god, using her body for
his pleasure as well as giving it and she had been the one to tire first, not him.
He moved to his side, sitting up and resting his head on the palm of his hand.
His gaze held hers. “I must be honest. I have never used a weapon of any kind.”
She lifted his free arm, gliding her hand down the length of it, from shoulder
to wrist, caressing the taunt muscles. “Your limbs were made to hold a sword. As
we speak, one is already being fashioned for you. You will need to master the use
of the weapon for the final battle.”
He pulled his hand away. “You keep mentioning this final battle. No matter
what you think, I’m not a warrior. I’m just a man.”
It amazed her how Trey had impacted her resolve to save him. She wasn’t
just doing this for the little boy who had prayed for her help. She was doing this
for her, too. Trey’s smile, his gentle touch and aye, his fierce fighting instincts
had seeped into her heart, making her more than determined to see he won the
fight.
“Aye, you are a man, but you must become the warrior to win. It’s the only
way you’ll survive.”
Confusion darkened the color of his expression and he sat up in bed, leaning
against the back frame.
“What’s wrong?”
“For a moment I forgot that this was only a dream. You talk about me