Midnight's Temptation

by Donna Grant

  Aisley looked down the road to the south where she should be in England by now. “I’ll never be free of him. There’s only one way out for me.”

  “And that is?”

  “Death.”

  Phelan grabbed her shoulders and made her look at him. “Have you lost your mind, beauty? There is always another answer before death.”

  “Is there? Do you have secrets so dear you wouldn’t dare share them with anyone else?”

  He jerked back and dropped his hands. “Is that what you have? Secrets?”

  “I want my life back. I crave it as much as…” She trailed off right before she told him how much she wanted his kisses.

  Now wasn’t the time. But soon, very soon.

  “What do you crave?”

  His deep voice was smooth, soft. It made her skin prickle with need and her blood burn. He was seducing her with his voice.

  It wasn’t necessary. She’d been seduced the first time they kissed. Oh, she had tried to deny it, but there was no need to lie to herself anymore.

  She wanted Phelan. Her body hungered for his touch, longed to have him against her.

  He closed the space that separated them and lifted his hands to her face. Aisley held her breath, waiting for him to touch her. Instead, he fastened the helmet and stepped away.

  She wanted to scream with frustration. Her body hummed with need. A need only Phelan could quench.

  “Are you coming?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye after he climbed on the bike.

  Aisley blew out a breath and got on behind him. She felt the steady thud of his heart when she wound her arms around him. Despite herself, she couldn’t stop the grin when he released a laugh as they sped off.

  The wind blew his long dark hair away from his face. She peered around his shoulder to see the satisfied smile on his face as he raced down the road.

  If she craved him, Phelan yearned for the thrill of the wind on his face and the next conquest in his bed. She should be offended, but instead she found she admired him.

  Deirdre had taken him and released his god. He could have given in and became evil, but Phelan persevered and won control over his god.

  That’s what made him different from Jason. The Warriors could have taken over the world. Instead, they were defending it.

  Phelan embraced each day, living life to the fullest while she hid in her memories and pain. It was too bad she hadn’t met Phelan before Jason had come for her.

  Maybe then she’d have been strong enough to tell Jason to bugger off.

  Then again, Jason never took no for an answer.

  CHAPTER

  TEN

  Phelan turned off the paved road onto a back road. He kept the speed down mostly because he quite liked how Aisley’s arms hugged him.

  The first time he took a turn and her hands flexed against his stomach, he knew she wasn’t the adrenaline junkie he was.

  With her body plastered against his back, Phelan could think of nothing but divesting her of her clothes and touching every lovely inch of her.

  He knew she had an amazing body—her tight clothes revealed a lot as she danced—but he longed to see her naked. Her mocha-colored skin begged to be caressed.

  Phelan slowed the Ducati as he neared the loch. Even over the bike’s engine he heard Aisley’s sharp intake of breath when she caught a glimpse of the water.

  He stopped and turned off the motor, simply staring at the sight that had stunned him from the first moment he saw it four centuries earlier and every time he visited since.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aisley pull off the helmet and run a hand through her midnight hair. Her lips were parted slightly, and her eyes took in everything.

  He couldn’t hold back the grin. It was a magnificent sight with the trees surrounding the loch and the mountains rising up in the distance.

  “I think I could stand here and look at this forever,” Aisley whispered.

  Phelan grinned at her. “Aye. That’s how I felt when I first saw this place.”

  “Where are we?”

  “My home.”

  She raised a black brow. “Your home?”

  “Aye,” he answered with a chuckle. “Did you think a Warrior couldna have a home?”

  Aisley shrugged, but she looked away hastily, causing Phelan to frown. She had almost said something, but he wouldn’t push her.

  “Is this where you grew up?” Aisley asked.

  Phelan rested a hand on the handlebars and tried to pull up any memories he had of his parents. “Nay,” he finally answered.

  “It’s beautiful and peaceful. And so quiet.”

  “A good place to escape for a while.”

  She cut her eyes to him. “Is that what you do when you come here? Escape?”

  “Oh, aye. No one knows of this place. No one.”

  “Do you trust so few people?”

  He contemplated her words, wondering why he’d never told Charon. “No one ever asked, and I didna volunteer the information.”

  “Your own private haven. I’m jealous.”

  “It’s your private haven as well.”

  Her fawn-colored eyes turned to him. He spotted the uncertainty and trepidation in her gaze. She had said he didn’t trust, but she was the one who didn’t trust anyone. Aisley had secrets aplenty, and he worried there wouldn’t be enough time to get her to share them all.

  Because he had a distinct feeling Aisley didn’t plan on staying for long.

  “Maybe it’s not a good idea for you to take me to your home.”

  Phelan drew in a deep breath. “Why?”

  “It’s private. No one even knew you had such a place. Now I do. Aren’t you worried I might tell someone?”

  “It doesna matter if you do.”

  “What about me intruding on space that was yours alone?”

  “I wouldna be bringing you if I didna want you there.”

  “Still. I think we should go somewhere else. To keep your place private.”

  Phelan turned to better see her. “What are you no’ telling me, beauty?”

  “A lot,” she admitted. “A terrible lot, Phelan. Don’t bring me to your house. You’ll regret it. Trust me.”

  “It’s just a structure. Nothing more.”

  “Not true. It’s your sanctuary. No,” she said when he started to interrupt her. “If you didn’t care who knew about it, others would. You admitted no one else did. Don’t ruin that now.”

  Phelan straightened. He was irritated at her rationale, mostly because he knew she was right. It hadn’t been a whim that made him bring her here. He wanted her to see it. He just wasn’t sure why. “Put the damn helmet on.”

  Just as she took a breath to argue, he started the Ducati and revved it. He glanced over his shoulder to see her quickly put on the helmet and buckle it.

  She was a contradiction. One minute he wanted to protect her, and the other he wanted to throttle her. She was ridiculously stubborn, astonishingly beautiful, and grievously broken.

  With any other woman, Phelan would bring her to bed, give her a night of pleasure, and leave before she woke. But with Aisley, he wanted to do more.

  The crux of the matter was that he didn’t know what to do. His only option for the moment was to keep her safe and gain her trust.

  As soon as Aisley’s arms wrapped around him, Phelan continued on the barely discernable dirt road. After a ten-minute drive that took them around the loch, Phelan caught a glimpse of his home.

  * * *

  Aisley was prepared to continue arguing with Phelan about taking her to his home while she ogled the forest around her. Heavy clouds rolled in, but not even that could dampen the stunning scenery around her.

  She was so absorbed in the forest that when Phelan stopped the motorbike it took her a moment to see the house. It wasn’t huge, but it was quaint and fit into the landscape perfectly.

  Phelan shut off the Ducati and put his hands on his legs while his feet balanced the bike. She watched the ple
ased look come over his face, the small smile that told her he loved this place.

  And she would ruin it by telling him who she was.

  No. She refused to do it here. She’d find a way to leave and let him follow her. But there’s no way she could let him kill her in his own home, a home he cherished. It was too cruel.

  Aisley got off the bike and removed the helmet as she took in the house. It had a steep roof with a chimney sticking up through the far side of the roof. A porch extended off the front of the house and faced the loch that was only twenty feet from it.

  There were roses, pansies, bluebells, and violas planted in a glorious array of color around the house and porch. A path led from the parking area on the side of the house around to the porch.

  Aisley looked at Phelan, and he gave her a nod to tell her it was all right to go look. With his helmet still in hand, Aisley followed the path to the steps leading to the porch. Then, she turned and looked at the loch.

  “How do you ever leave?” she asked as he slowly followed.

  He waited until he stood beside her before he said, “It gets more difficult each time.”

  “If this was mine, I’d never leave.”

  “Then consider it yours for as long as you want.”

  Aisley jerked her gaze to his. She was used to being treated with disdain and hatred. It had been so long since anyone was nice that Aisley wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “I mean it,” Phelan continued. “Stay as long as you’d like.”

  She looked away, her throat clogged with emotion. It was wrong for her to have allowed Phelan to help her in any way, shape, or form. She regretted it now more than ever. “Just one night. I’ll stay one night.”

  He didn’t say anything as he turned and pulled a key out of his pocket to unlock the door. Aisley took another few minutes to stare at the calm waters of the loch before she followed him inside.

  There she came to a stop. The outside might be quaint and look more like a home built two hundred years ago, but the inside was completely modernized.

  “Surprised, I see,” Phelan said as he leaned a hip against the kitchen counter.

  “Yes.” Aisley laughed as she continued inside. “I think you spend more time here than you let on.”

  Phelan tossed the keys onto the small island. “I used to spend a lot of time here, but lately it seems all I’ve been doing is going to battle after battle fighting evil.”

  Aisley set the helmet down on the island and saw three bar stools tucked beneath the overhang of the countertop. She spotted her duffle lying near the couch. When he had brought that in?

  “Make yourself at home,” Phelan said. “I’m going to go pick us up some groceries.”

  Before she could form a response, he was out the door and on his bike. She watched him drive away, wondering if she should make a break for it now.

  Then she remembered the feel of his muscles, the heat of his body as she’d leaned against him the entire ride. She recalled the feel of his arms as he lifted her when she had the migraine.

  She remembered how he had quickly found her after the accident and gotten her onto his bike before the authorities came. Or worse—Jason.

  Aisley shuddered. Leaving now would be the best thing, the right thing. But an image of Phelan’s blue-gray eyes filled with desire flashed in her mind, and she knew she would stay.

  “For just one night,” she said to herself as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  Though she’d never driven a motorcycle, she was already making plans to steal it in the wee hours of the morning and leave.

  Phelan would find her. She knew that without a doubt. That’s when she would tell him every sordid, ugly detail of her life. And ask for his help.

  It wasn’t death she was afraid of, it was the disappointment and fury she suspected to see in Phelan’s eyes.

  Jason had promised her she would be powerful. Becoming drough made her magic potent, but she was still the scared, pitiful, starving girl he’d found waiting for death in that alley.

  He’d given her hope. Aisley hadn’t realized how desperate she’d needed something to hope for, and she had grabbed it—and Jason’s offer—with both hands.

  Her father had called her weak.

  Her mother had called her amoral.

  Jason had called her devious.

  Only one person had ever seen any good in her. Phelan.

  She longed to believe Phelan when he said she was a good person, but Aisley knew the awful truth. She was evil and what part of her soul remained was destined for Hell.

  There was one slim chance to do something good, and she was going to take it and pay whatever it cost to make sure Jason never harmed another person in this life or the next.

  Something dropped onto her hand. Aisley reached up to swipe at her face and felt the wetness of tears.

  “Damn you, Phelan,” she said. “You’ve made me cry.”

  Tears—or any emotion—hadn’t been possible while in Jason’s company. It was a sign of softness, and as droughs, any emotion was forbidden.

  For so long she kept everything she was feeling inside her. Aisley feared the day she gave in to everything, because it would likely consume her.

  She removed the wide leather bracelet she wore on her right arm. It hid the two-inch scar on the inside of her wrist from the drough ceremony. Her watch hid the scar on her left wrist.

  Keeping them hidden from Phelan would take some doing, but he deserved to hear the truth from her. Not by seeing the scars.

  At least she didn’t have her Devil’s Kiss anymore. The small silver vial droughs wore around their necks holding a few drops of their blood had been one thing she refused to do.

  Jason hadn’t understood it, but he hadn’t pushed her. Aisley hated the Devil’s Kiss more than she hated the scars on her wrists.

  The scars she could lie about. The Devil’s Kiss she couldn’t.

  Aisley turned on her heel and grabbed her duffle as she walked down the small hallway until she found the bathroom. A large claw-foot tub sat under a wide window overlooking the forest.

  She wasted no time in turning on the water to fill the tub. A good soak would wash away the threat of tears. At least she prayed it did.

  CHAPTER

  ELEVEN

  Charon tossed his mobile phone onto the couch as he strode to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the top floor of his building.

  “Bad news?” Laura asked as she looked up from her book.

  Charon stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his slacks and blew out a harsh breath. “He’s no’ answering his damned phone.”

  Laura set aside her book and rose from the couch. She walked barefoot to her husband and slipped her arms around his waist from behind.

  She rose up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “He might be busy. Phelan is quite the ladies’ man.”

  “He answers, Laura. He always answers.”

  “Unless he can’t,” she reminded him. “If he was in trouble he’d let you know.”

  Charon turned his head slightly, his chin-length dark locks brushing her cheek. “I hope you’re right. I’m concerned about the Druid who’s with him.”

  “Why? Phelan knows the difference between droughs and mies. What are you worried about?”

  “I doona know. Something just doesna seem right.”

  Laura walked around Charon until she stood in front of him. “Could it be you’re upset that he didn’t tell you he had a Druid with him?”

  Charon pulled her into his arms and rested his chin atop her head. “He was my only friend for a long time. He’s no’ the settling down type.”

  “So you’re worried about the Druid?”

  “I doona know what the bloody hell I’m worried about. He didna tell me anything other than he had a Druid with him. No’ her name or anything.”

  Laura closed her eyes and shrugged. “It could be a male. Not all Druids are female.”

  “It was a woman,” Charon said. “If it was
na, Phelan would’ve had Fallon bring the Druid to the castle immediately.”

  “Hm. Then wait a little longer and call Phelan again. If he’s on his motorbike, getting ahold of him isn’t easy.”

  “And if he’s encountered Wallace?”

  Laura’s eyes flew open. Just the thought of Jason Wallace made her skin crawl. She hoped she’d seen the last of him when she managed to escape his clutches. All thanks to one black-haired drough.

  Aisley. Laura had wondered what happened to her during the battle at Dreagan. Her body wasn’t with the rest of the dead. There was a possibility that Aisley could have gone wherever Jason went.

  “We couldn’t get lucky enough for Jason to be blasted into a gazillion pieces, could we?” Laura asked.

  “It doesna appear that way.”

  “Why does evil always seem to win? Why do they always get the lucky breaks while we work our asses off just to stay alive?”

  Charon rubbed his large hand up and down her back. “It’s the way it’s always been.”

  “Well, it sucks.”

  His chuckle reverberated through his chest. “That it does, sweetheart.”

  Laura lifted her head and looked at her husband. “Do you want to go to MacLeod Castle?”

  “Only if you do. I willna force you.”

  “Will it make you feel better if I go?”

  He shrugged his thick shoulders, his dark eyes holding hers. “I doona think it matters where we are. Wallace will attack. The other Druids will be here shortly to add their spells around the village.”

  “You know as well as I no spell will keep Jason out.”

  Charon smiled, showing her the fierce Highland Warrior she’d fallen in love with. “Nay, but it’ll give us enough time to call the others or to get you to safety. I’m eager for another go at the bastard.”

  “You’re not the only one. He did use his magic on me and try to turn me against you.”

  “But it didna work. You wanted my body too badly,” he said smugly.

  Laura stepped out of his arms. “Is that so?”

  “Aye.”

  “And you didn’t want this?” she asked as she pulled her thin cotton dress over her head, leaving her standing completely nude.