“It’s possible you’re lazier than I am,” Roark commented without heat.
Calder’s brother shrugged a t-shirt-covered, muscled shoulder. “Lion.” He pointed one finger at his chest. “King of the freaking jungle or bayou. Whatever, I’m number one and that means I don’t sweat unless I want to or it matters. No offense, but you don’t matter to me.”
Yep, a predator after his own heart. If he could convince Calder of his love and sincerity, which might involve a liberal amount of begging, then Roark would really enjoy getting to know his new family. They seemed at least half as dysfunctional as his.
“Remind me to introduce you to my cousin if this works out.”
“Male or female?”
“Male and probably as vain or possibly more vain than you are.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t have the attention span or the interest in meeting another man since I don’t swing that way.”
“It was more a sarcastic offer than a romantic setup.”
Saluting him with the beer bottle, Trevon nodded. “What do you need to find my sister?”
Going with the plan unfolding in front of him, Roark nodded. “She’s my Liaria. I can find her no matter where she is. If she’s wearing gold it makes things even easier since my kind are naturally attracted to the element. I can feel her emotions through the bond.”
“And what’s my sister feeling right now?”
“Pissed.”
“At you or us?”
“I think we’re equally deep in her shit pile.”
“Well, I for one intend to blame Dad.”
Roark nodded his understanding. “Fair warning, if necessary I intend to throw you under the bus.”
The lion shot him a smile filled with way too many teeth. “Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same in your position.”
“As enjoyable as this has been, I’d like get my punishment over. What do I need to follow her? And how protected should I be?”
Trevon said nothing for several moments until reaching some internal decision. He nodded, tossed his drained bottle into a recycling bin and motioned Roark to follow him. “Come on, I’ve got a boat that should get you where you need to go. Just be sure to bring it back to me in one piece. I haven’t had it a month yet.”
“Of course,” Roark agreed. He was prepared to stalk and seduce his mate. Little he cared what could happen to the boat considering it was simply a means of transportation.
“Oh yeah,” Trevon tossed over his shoulder as they headed out of the house, “you might want to wear a cup. My sister was pretty pissed and hurt when she came home. Your delay getting here only gave her more time to stew. In fact,” he paused, tapping a finger to his chin before facing Roark, “I’d recommend the cup, helmet and maybe a Kevlar vest.”
“Well, damn to an elf,” he cursed. “I’m pretty much screwed coming and going, aren’t I?”
“I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be in your position.” Trevon turned back around and Roark could have sworn his new brother-in-law muttered, “Poor unlucky Irish bastard.” He chose to ignore it because a sinking feeling gave him the sense Trevon was right.
Roark was a poor unlucky Irish bastard and his Liaria would make or break him this time.
Chapter Eight
The familiar sound of a boat gliding over water reached her cat-sensitive ears long moments before her brother’s boat carrying her mate appeared around a bend of ancient oak trees draped in Spanish moss. Sighing in resignation, Calder shoved her cell phone in the pocket of her old denim shorts and slowly pushed to her feet.
His visit wasn’t a surprise. They were mated. Mates did not do well without each other. Although she really didn’t know if leprechauns had the same type of bonding ritual as shifters. What the hell did she really know about the man she’d twined her life with? He was good-looking, richer than Midas, knew how to make a woman come in sixty seconds or less and talked to people who really weren’t there. Not the best trait to be passing on to their future children, but Calder figured she could sweet-talk her godmother into helping with any potential mental illness.
Shading her eyes from the bright light of the midday sun, Calder’s extraordinary daysight gave her the ability to make out every inch of his beloved familiar face. Though sunglasses shaded his Fae eyes she could see the tension riding in T-shirt-covered shoulders. Legs braced in V formation against the bumpy ride of the boat, he used both hands to easily control the powerful motor, swiftly closing the distance between them.
Her heart raced at the sight of Roark. By the goddess she’d missed her mate so much, but now that he was here, Calder didn’t know what to do or say. Running into his arms the moment he docked the boat didn’t seem a good way to keep the advantage, and she did need any and all advantage dealing with this tricky leprechaun.
Silence descended around them as he cut the engine, secured the boat to the pier and with smooth grace jumped onto the wooden planks. For several minutes neither of them said a word, simply absorbing the presence of the other.
When she couldn’t stand any more, Calder casually shrugged and turned back to her family’s fishing cabin. Having been built by some great-great relative over a hundred years ago, the home stood on thick, secured pilings dug deeply in the marshy swamp ground. Over the years, various members of the family built additions or upgraded what was there already.
Ten years ago, Reme installed solar panels on the roof and in the tallest trees to collect energy stores for the batteries that powered the entire cabin.
“Come on, I’d imagine you’re thirsty and it’ll be easier to get this over with out of the heat.” Calder didn’t wait for a reply. She just walked up the path, forcing her body to keep a nice, even pace. Even when everything in her demanded she turn around and touch her mate. Fighting herself and the lioness gave her a headache even as her heart throbbed in sympathy.
The sound of light steps reached her cat’s ears and she let out the breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. “Something cold would be nice, thank you.”
My, weren’t they both playing their parts in a very polite way, she thought, tugging open the solid oak reclaimed door. Cold air washed over her humidity-sticky skin. Giving herself a brief reprieve, Calder closed her eyes, evened out her heart rate, then turned to the kitchen.
“I’ve got beer, water, Diet Coke and sweet tea.” Getting cups and ice for the two of them kept her busy and her eyes away from the leprechaun entering the kitchen. The space shrunk with his presence and Calder automatically stepped back. Angry at herself for that action, she turned her back on him and added ice to both plastic tumblers.
“Water would be good. Thank you.” His voice was as steady, polite and fake as her own. What happened to the mate and lover she’d known and fallen in love with? Where was his sense of humor, his air of entitlement and his staggering ego?
The male standing in her family’s kitchen exuded none of the…joy of life. Roark still came off as a badass with power, but without the special something that turned her head in that Limerick pub.
“If we get any more boring or polite Emily Post can invite us to offer advice on greeting old lovers,” she carelessly tossed out. Calder shoved his cup under the tap. When filled, she thrust the full tumbler at him. “Here.”
He took the drink then grabbed her hand before she could snatch it back. “Don’t do this, Calder. We need to talk and I can’t do it with you acting like I’m a freaking stranger. Not the man who fucked you in the grass, against a tree, on top of a boulder and every other place I could take you. The same man who ate you until you came all over my face, your sweet juices almost drowning me, you were so wet.”
“Don’t,” she choked out. “We’re not going there again. So say what you have to say and go.”
“Go?” His sexy voice held more than a hint of Irish temper as it whipped out to lash at her.
What did he have to be mad about? That she managed to dump him before he dumped her? Men were such frog lovers and
whiny babies. Always needing to be first no matter what the game or consequences.
“Yes, go, Roark. This is my home and I didn’t invite you here.” Goddess, why did it have to hurt so bad? Only a few days with this impossible, ego-driven male and she’d fallen harder than a penny dropped from the Sears Tower.
“I didn’t need an invitation, Calder. You are my Liaria. It’s my destiny to be at your side forever.” He set the water down on the ancient, scarred kitchen table. “Running from me is never the answer.” He held up a hand to stop her objection. “Even when I deserve it. We’re in this together…forever.”
Just like that, all the feeling drained out of her body. Fortunately Roark caught her as her legs buckled.
“Shhh, Calder, I’ve got you, my love.” He did have her. Swept up in his strong grasp, she tucked her head on his wide shoulder while her arms automatically wrapped around his neck. Nothing ever felt so right as when she was in Roark’s arms. And how very Lifetime Movie of the Week did that make her?
“Why?” she whispered against the warm skin of his neck even as his fragrance teased her senses. “Why come back and start this all over again?”
“Just give me a minute, then we’ll talk.” He carried her out of the kitchen and into the open great room as if she weighed nothing.
Gently he lowered both of them to the soft, plush leather sofa Trevon insisted on having. Who ever heard of a fishing cabin with leather furniture? But her brother insisted so long, loudly and with a whiny tone that her father caved in just to make Trev shut up.
“Okay, now we need to get a few things straight, my Liaria,” Roark said in a low, firm tone, those green eyes serious for the first time since they’d met.
“Um wait.” She tried in vain to wiggle out of his arms, but Roark simply flipped her body around until she straddled his waist, their faces almost touching.
“Stop wiggling or we’ll be making up before we finish fighting,” he warned in a low tone that held the note of sensuous promise.
“Tell me what Lee…r…ah means and I’ll stop fighting you. Unless it means something like monkey armpit.”
He snorted, honest to goddess snorted at her words, his full soft lips curving up even as the laughter reached his eyes. He pressed a swift soft kiss to her forehead. “No, Calder. Liaria means…” He stopped speaking as if searching his mind for the right word. “It’s hard to translate into English, but the base word means several things. Lover, mate, wife, soul mate, friend…it’s just everything. Liaria is literally life to a leprechaun.”
“Huh, so monkey pit is out, I guess?” She wanted to weep in relief, not that she actually thought Roark was calling her anything like a blowfly anus, but believing and knowing were two different things. Except if he felt this way then why had he been such an ass to her in Ireland? Or did this whole mystical mate thing scramble his gray matter?
A brush of lips against her temple. “Yes, no pit of monkey.”
Even as she swore herself to silence and prayed for a stapler to permanently shut her lips, Calder opened her mouth and let her insecurity pour out. “Then why were you such an ass in Ireland? You told me to go pee on a rock. Not exactly the sweet nothings every woman dreams of hearing from her mate. I really can’t keep up with your mood changes and frankly it’s giving me a severe case of motion sickness to try. Either pick a mood and stick to it or buy some Midol and deal.”
“Calder, you don’t understand.” His grasp failed to hold when she shimmered into a massive pissed-off lioness. She sprang off the sofa, getting a great deal of satisfaction when the pliable leather ripped under her razor-sharp claws. Hadn’t she predicted this couch wouldn’t last a season? Little had Calder known at the time she’d be the one responsible for tearing it up.
The change came over her mid-leap and she let it consume her. She landed on two feet instead of four and watched Roark look at her with passion in his eyes. “Are you usually sane and only I bring out the crazy in you?”
“You bring something out in me, that’s for certain,” he replied, heat building in his eyes.
“I’m at least four hundred pounds shifted and bigger than a horse. Yet you sit there, cock hard when any other male with an ounce of sanity in his precious brain would be running out the door to the nearest game warden.” Why did his refusal to leave or even take a step back turn her on so much?
“I’m of Fae, a leprechaun, pretty darn powerful in my own right. So there’s not much to be afraid of when I can do this with a thought.”
The instant the words left his mouth Calder’s feet rose off the gleaming pinewood floor. “Hey.” She kicked her legs, desperately trying to find purchase where none was to be had. “Put me down, you overgrown cereal mascot.” Thinking to trick him into dropping her, Calder reached for her beast, ready to pull the lioness forward, only her cat was curled up asleep inside Calder’s body. No matter the threat or punishment she used, the great beast refused to so much as twitch a whisker.
The implication of her mate’s power shook her to the bone. “Did you do this? Coax my cat to sleep? Put her out of my reach?”
A dark brow rose, the familiar snotty look she knew and had grown to love crossing his handsome features. “Coax, spell, entice—so long as the big pretty kitty is asleep and not clawing for my throat I’m content.”
He didn’t know. Calder’s mind flew in a thousand directions even as her body remained in the air supported by Roark’s magic alone. If he didn’t know the danger his powers posed then she could keep him safe from the pride, packs and clans of the shifter nations. None of the two-natured would want him alive if a whisper of this soul-crushing talent were even hinted at.
Sure her mate had power, but how long and how much strength would it cost him to watch his back year after year? No, the risks to Roark weren’t worth scaring off the few who wouldn’t have the backbone to stick around once the truth reached them.
“Roark, set me down.” She was shocked when he did as she asked. The instant her feet touched the smooth floors, Calder was on the couch, her hands surrounding her mate’s handsome face. “You must listen to me, Roark. Please, no jokes or goofy comments. You have no idea how serious this is.”
The sexy smile slid off his lips as he cupped her shoulders. “All right, I’m listening.”
The honest, serious tone in his voice helped calm Calder’s inner panic. Taking a deep breath, she took her time forming the words in her mind before speaking out loud. “Roark, I understand you’re powerful Fae, but you can never ever do that to another shifter.”
Canting his head to the side, Roark studied her for a silent moment. “I can never do what, exactly?”
“Trap and force a shifter’s beast to sleep. It leaves us almost human, helpless. And trust me, if anything can incite panic it’s the thought of being human. If word gets out my family and I will protect you, but we’re both a long-lived race. We have to be one hundred percent successful every time, but those who would come after you only need to get it right once.”
“You want to protect me?” Disbelief crossed his handsome, tanned face.
Roark wanted to shake sense into his Liaria. The female thought she had to protect him from a threat that didn’t, wouldn’t or couldn’t exist. If Calder Douget didn’t own his heart before, he’d be helpless against her now.
“Calder, honey,” he made his voice low and coaxing. “I need you to listen to me this time, okay?”
“But, Roark—”
He shook his head even as he lifted a finger to press against her soft, rose-colored lips. “You had your turn, babe, so now let me have mine.”
She sat silently in his lap for several seconds before giving a slight nod of her blond head.
“There’s no need to protect me, Calder. The power to put a shifter’s beast asleep isn’t a power anyone but a leprechaun’s mate shares. I could stare and throw power at your idiot brother Trevon for years and I’d never so much as tickle his cat.”
Using her hand, Calder pulled h
is fingers away from her mouth, but not before pressing a tender kiss against his flesh. “There’s no threat to you? No touching or controlling any shifter’s animal?”
“Can’t even influence a shifter to sneeze. Your shields are too strong and complicated. Most Fae don’t view the payoff as worth the effort in the end.” He shared a secret of his race without batting an eyelash. Calder, his mate, his Liaria would be trusted with every secret he held. Instinct drove him to open his soul to this one very special woman.
She offered up the blood of her family to keep him safe. How could he not want to offer up the world on a platter for her? Calder did the one thing Roark had no defense against. She offered him protection. Shelter from the shitstorm she thought would come raining down on his head.
“What does that mean?”
“It means, beautiful one, you’re the only one I can make sleep. Your pussy listens to me even if you don’t.” And it showed exactly how strong their mating bond had grown in the days they’d spent alone together. Now if he could only use magic to find out if she felt even half of what he did.
Yes, Roark knew they were mated. To her people and family they were as good as married. Calder would never cheat on him, never imagine another in his place. She would be loyal to her death. But what he didn’t know was if the shifter mating including love and devotion. And as girly as it made him, Roark didn’t want to risk opening his heart until Calder spoke first. Yeah, he loved her. He knew he loved her, but as long she didn’t know he loved her, somehow Roark felt emotionally safer.
Stupid, he knew, but no one ever accused him of being a brain trust.
“Why are you here, Lucky Charms?”
That damn black brow lifted in the way that made her want to smack him and fuck him at the same time. “Again I say, where else would I be, but beside my mate?”
“Since I know nothing about your mating practices, how the hell would I know? You could have some weird ritual involving chipmunks, hockey pucks and electric sockets.”
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