She made a beeline for the box, lifted the lid and peeled the tissue back. “Oh, my.” Running her fingers over the sumptuous fabric—was it cashmere?—she stared at the gorgeous dress inside. She lifted the copper-colored garment halfway out of the box. Her mind flew to the black leather high-heeled boots she’d bought a year ago during a moment of weakness. They sat unused in her closet along with the perfect black leather belt that formed a V in front. This dress would cling to her body like skin, so tempting. She checked the label—designer and way out of her price range. The fabric was cashmere, and the finest she’d ever felt.
“No.” She started to put the dress back and noticed a velvet jewelry case tucked underneath. “Damn.” Her hand shook as she reached for it. Opening the case slowly, she gasped. A strand of multicolored freshwater pearls gleamed up at her—copper, black, yellow, with matching earrings. “Damn, damn, and double damn.”
“What are you cursing about in here?” David poked his head through her doorway. “Whoa. What’ve you got there, Sid?”
“Gifts.”
David sauntered in to take a closer look. His eyebrows rose when he saw the pearls and dress. “From MacKay?”
Sidney nodded.
“Things are moving along between you two?” He studied her face.
“No.” She shook her head. “I agreed to have dinner with him on the condition he’d come clean about why he’s here.”
“So, he sent you these? The man doesn’t miss a trick, does he? He even knows your favorite color.” David ran the fabric of the dress through his fingers and whistled. “I think it’s pretty clear what he’s after.” He shot her a look. “And it’s not your business.”
“He can be after me all he wants. It won’t do him any good.” She couldn’t tear her eyes from the luminous pearls. She itched to put them on and imagined how they’d feel against her skin. “I’m returning all of this when he arrives.”
“Not even going to try them on?” David grinned. “I remember how much you loved to play dress-up as a kid.”
Sidney snapped the velvet case shut and tossed it into the box along with the dress. She turned away and took the towel off her wet hair. “I’m not a kid anymore. I’ve got to get ready. Close my door on your way out please.”
“Okay. If you need me to tell you how you look in the dress, give me a holler.” He laughed at the glare she sent his way and shut the door behind him.
Memories of Dermot’s body so close to hers on the treadmill sent heat curling through her. He’d thought about what would look good on her and had chosen this dress. The notion pleased her far more than it ought to. The color, the correct size, everything about it was cloud-soft perfect.
She could wear her hair in a French braid to show off the pearls. Her mind drifted to other images, like Dermot slipping the dress off her body, running his hands down her sides, his mouth against hers. “Damn that Druid. He’s laid some kind of spell on me.”
Sidney took a seat at her grandmother’s maple vanity and started to blow-dry her hair while mentally choosing lingerie and makeup. She finally had an occasion to wear the gorgeous boots, and she didn’t want to give that up. “No, no, no,” she muttered.
On the other hand, what harm would there be in trying everything on? It would be silly not to.
Her hair dried and braided, Sidney slipped out of her robe and into black lace panties and matching bra. The sweater dress had a scooped neckline with draped fabric forming a ruffle that matched the ruffle around the cuffs of the sleeves. She slid the cashmere over her body, reveling in the feel of the rich softness against her skin. Next she reached for the pearls. Once the belt was in place, Sidney opened her closet door to check herself in the full-length mirror on the back side.
“Damn, damn, and double damn.” She looked good, really good. Now that the dress was on, no way was she taking it off. Disgusted with her lack of willpower, Sidney reached for the boots and swore she was dressing to please herself, not Dermot.
Dermot took the stairs to Sidney’s apartment two at a time and knocked on her door. He couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off his face. Would she be wearing the dress and pearls? His pulse quickened at the thought.
David opened the door. “Dermot, come in. Sidney will be out in a minute…or thirty.” He nodded toward the living room. “You might want to have a seat.”
“Not necessary,” Sidney said, walking toward them. “I’m ready.”
“Gods.” His breath caught in his throat as he surveyed her from crown to toe. “The color suits you.” The dress he’d chosen clung to her gorgeous body. The copper shade emphasized her coloring to perfection, and the neckline drew attention to her generous breasts. She wore makeup. For him?
The graceful sweep of her neck drew his attention. She wore the pearls and the dress. She looked as if she’d been wrapped up just for him. He tried to swallow. Mine to unwrap. “You look lovely this evening, Sidney.”
“Let’s go, MacMud.”
Dermot raised one eyebrow. “You’re no’ pleased with the gifts I chose for you?”
“Oh, I like them well enough.”
Sidney walked over to the hall closet and pulled out a wool coat and a black leather purse. He took them from her and held the coat as she slid her arms into the sleeves.
“Don’t forget your promise, and I’m dressed to please myself, not you. It’s not every day I can wear these heels and not tower over my date.”
“So, you admit this is a date?” He winked at David as Sidney made a muffled snorting sound. He took her arm and ushered her through the door.
“Try to have fun, Sid,” David called after them.
“When a man pays you a compliment, isn’t it customary to thank him?” He loved provoking her, loved how quick-witted she was with her comebacks. Who could have predicted such a thing?
“Thank. You.”
He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Why do I suspect your gratitude is less than sincere?”
She whispered back, “Could be because you’re more perceptive than most.”
“Och, lass.” He chuckled. “I’ve looked forward to spending this evening with you all day.” They walked out into the chill November evening. “Ah.” He took a deep breath of autumn-scented air. “The moon is full, and the night is clear. Perhaps we can walk a bit after we dine.”
“It all depends on why you’re here. I…” She cleared her throat. “I really do love the dress, and the pearls are exquisite.” She glanced at him as he opened the SUV door for her. “I just don’t understand why you’d buy them for me. We’re strangers.”
He helped her settle into the passenger seat and crossed to the driver’s side. He buckled his seat belt, started the engine, turned on the seat warmers and waited, certain she’d not let it go.
“Well?” she persisted.
“Well, what?”
She shot him a disgruntled look. “Why did you buy these very expensive gifts for me?”
“You’re a beautiful woman. You should have beautiful things.” He ran a knuckle down her cheek, pleased by the sudden intake of breath his touch elicited. “I think I prefer your hair down.” He pulled away from the curb. “You have the kind of hair a man loves to run his fingers through.”
Sidney fussed with the gloves she pulled from her pockets. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.”
“They?” Dermot’s body tightened. “All?” The thought of her with other men turned him inside out. He was not a man given to strong emotion. Years of training with the Druids had seen to that. Yet the mere mention of other men near her sent him spiraling. “No more.”
“Excuse me?” She frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Ah, I meant—”
“Do you think you have some kind of claim on me because I decided to wear the dress and pearls?”
“Nay.”
“Good. Because you don’t. I do date when the occasion presents itself. I want to marry and have a family someday.”
“Do you?”
The notion of her married to someone else settled like lead shot in his gut. “The words slipped out, Sidney.”
“Hmm.” She adjusted her coat and purse. “Where are we having dinner?”
“We’re going to the St. Paul Grill. It’s in the hotel where I’m staying.”
“In your hotel?” Her eyes grew wide.
“Aye.” He canted his head at her. “I’m no’ familiar with the area.” He shrugged. “The food there is very good.”
“Lots of red meat?”
“Aye. There’s a thirty-two ounce prime porterhouse that—”
Sidney’s laughter filled all the dark empty places inside him, and he couldn’t help smiling back. “Too much?”
“I can practically hear you drooling, Druid.”
“Do no’ call me that.” He hadn’t intended to sound so harsh, and a glance revealed she’d been hurt by his rebuke. She went quiet and stared out the window. “Och, lass, call me whatever pleases you.”
“Why does it bother you if I call you Druid? Thomas does it all the time.”
“Aye, and every day I tell him no’ to.” They’d reached Rice Park and Dermot circled the square, heading toward the valet parking. “It is a painful reminder of my past.” And of the things he’d never had: a father’s love, brothers to look out for him and to play with in his youth, his cousins nearby, kinship and a home.
Instead of the things that give a child security and comfort, he’d had the cold detached instruction of ascetics, hours of imposed mental exercise, memorizing rituals, history, math, astronomy, alchemy, potions and mage craft. Instead of a mother’s gentle touch, he’d spent grueling hours training with uncles more concerned about his rightful standing within his clan than who he was on the inside.
“Where’d you go, Dermot?” Sidney’s voice softened, and she placed her hand on his arm. Was it concern? No one other than Mairéad had ever shown an ounce of concern for him. Her earnest gaze did things to him, melted his insides. She had him wanting to tell her everything, had him yearning to surround himself in her honey-scented heat. “Sorry. I lost myself in memory, is all.”
“I’d like to know what those memories hold for you. You looked so sad.”
“Did I?” Gods, man. Pull yourself together! He cut the engine at the valet stand, got out and crossed to the passenger side. Dermot opened Sidney’s door and helped her out. “Here we are.” He handed the keys to the attendant, accepted the claim ticket and led Sidney inside.
“Do you know anything about this hotel’s history?”
“Nay. Should I?”
She nodded. “This building was once the federal courthouse and post office for the upper Midwest. I’ve always loved the lobby.” She glanced at him. “I like how it doesn’t feel like a huge chain hotel. It’s very old, you know, built in 1902.”
Dermot snorted. “You call that old?”
“You don’t?” She looked at him in question.
“My castle harks back to the thirteenth century, and I do no’ even call that old.” The restaurant was situated inside the first set of hotel doors to the right. Dermot ushered Sidney through the entrance to the coat-check inside and helped her out of her coat.
“You must have a different standard for time than I do.”
“You might say that,” he murmured. He put the claim check in his pocket and headed for the host’s stand where he gave his name. They were led past the booths with black-and-burgundy leather seats to a room in the back. Their table, situated in an intimate corner, held an arrangement of red roses in the center of the white linen tablecloth.
“Our table has roses. None of the others do.” Sidney took the seat he held out for her and buried her nose in the flowers.
Dermot hesitated. Should he take the seat next to her, or sit opposite? He wanted to be near her. “I had the bouquet delivered earlier.”
Her gaze flew to him and then flitted around the room. “Oh.”
He took the seat opposite. Women had always been a puzzle to him, and Sidney St. George soared to the top of his list of unfathomable creatures. “You don’t like the roses?”
“I didn’t say that.” She continued to study the room.
Their waiter arrived and handed them menus. Turning to the server, Dermot ordered, “We’ll start with two glasses of your Ferrari Carano Chardonnay, and for appetizers, I’ve pre-ordered the crab cakes and a shrimp cocktail. They should be ready.” He noticed Sidney’s raised eyebrows and wondered if he’d impressed or annoyed her.
Sidney opened her menu and made odd little sounds of exclamation as she read.
“What is it, lass?”
“Oh. My. God. They really do have a thirty-two ounce steak, and it’s seventy dollars.” She gave him an incredulous look. “That’s not even the most expensive entrée, and they don’t even come with anything. Everything is à la carte.”
“It’s no’ a problem. Please, choose whatever you wish.”
Sidney closed her menu and frowned at him. “What is all of this leading to, Dermot? Why are you here?”
“I’m here because I had hoped to enjoy a good meal with a lovely woman.”
“I don’t mean here here, and you know it. I mean in the U.S., in Saint Paul, Minnesota.”
“Let’s order before we discuss it.” He felt like tearing his hair out.
“I seem to remember having this exact conversation before in another restaurant. You didn’t answer me then either.” With a sigh of exasperation, Sidney turned her attention back to the menu.
For a moment, Dermot pretended they really were on a date, and that Sidney wanted him as much as he wanted her. Gods, how had he come to this?
Their waiter returned and placed their wine and the appetizers on the table. Dermot slid the dishes closer to Sidney. “Have a shrimp. The crab cakes are excellent, as well.”
“No thanks.”
“I ordered these for you, lass. Can you no’ relax and enjoy them?”
“For me?” She made a huffing sound. “I don’t recall being asked what I’d like, and it’s a good thing this isn’t a real date.”
Dermot took a shrimp and dredged it through the cocktail sauce, his irritation rising. “Why is that?” He brought the shrimp to his mouth.
“Because I’m deathly allergic to shellfish. If this were a real date, and you ate that shrimp, there would be no goodnight kiss.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “My lips would swell up like sausages.”
“Gods.” He put the shrimp down and searched the room to signal their waiter. “Why did you no’ say something?”
“Why didn’t you bother to ask?” Her gaze locked with his. “None of this is for me. You’ve come to Minnesota with your own agenda, and it doesn’t involve what I want in the least.”
Her large brown eyes were filled with questions as she studied him—questions and distrust. Was it too much to ask, an hour or two enjoying each other’s company while sharing a meal? Their waiter arrived and Dermot handed him the appetizers. “Please have these delivered to room 312 with my compliments.” He turned to Sidney as the waiter walked away. “My men share the suite.”
“Why are you here? You promised to tell me everything.”
Dermot rubbed his temples. The hell with it. She wouldn’t let it go, and he might as well begin the tale. “I’m here because we knew each other in your previous life. We’ve unfinished business with each other.”
She started to scoot her chair back. “I told you if you didn’t tell me the truth I’d leave.”
He reached across the table and caught her hands before she could escape. “Stay.” Energy gathered inside him, magic and temptation. Why not compel her? No harm would come to Sidney, and he’d release her right after dinner. An hour or two of pleasure after almost two millennia, hardly worth a twinge of conscience.
She tried to tug her hands away, and he gently rubbed circles into her palms with his thumbs. He looked deep into her angry brown eyes and let the magic flow into his voice, changing the pitch to one that woul
d mesmerize. “Sidney,” he spoke softly. “You will relax now, and let everything go. The only thing important to you this evening is enjoying my company and a fine meal.”
“Enjoy your company and a fine meal,” she parroted, settling back into the seat. “Yes.”
Satisfied, Dermot smiled and lifted his wine glass. “Excellent vintage, try it.”
She obeyed without a word, and nodded after she sipped. “Yes, it’s very good.” She frowned and began to scratch the palm of her left hand. “I’m getting hives. Must be from your touching the shrimp and then holding my hands.”
“Och, I’m sorry, lass. I forgot.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I have allergy pills and an EpiPen with me all the time.” She rose from her chair. “I’m going to go wash.”
Could this evening get any worse? Dermot rubbed his face in his hands before it occurred to him he’d just spread the allergen all over. “Bloody hell.”
The moment Sidney returned, men in the bar and several in the back room turned to watch her. She looked his way. A lovely smile lit her face as she moved with regal elegance toward their table. Dermot’s chest swelled. Every man in the place wanted her, and she had eyes only for him. He stood once she’d reached their table. “If you will excuse me, I’ll go wash now as well. When I return, can we begin anew?”
“Of course. I’ll take an allergy pill for the hives, Dermot. No harm done.”
She gave him a look filled with warmth, sending his pulse racing. He left her fumbling with her purse for the pills as he walked away. He hated to leave her even for a few moments. Was it fear that the compulsion would falter, or fear that one of the men present might take advantage of his absence? He shook his head. This was the twenty-first century, not the fifth. Men no longer carried women off simply because they wanted them. Though at present, the notion appealed to him. He did have a room right upstairs.
He hurried to the loo and scrubbed his hands and face. Another patron looked askance at his ablutions. “My date is allergic to shellfish, and I ordered crab and shrimp appetizers,” Dermot remarked.
Heart of the Druid Laird Page 9