“What do you think?”
“Fire.” She coughed and attempted to take a breath. “It’s like drinking fire.”
Her tongue darted over her lips, and she blinked to clear the tears in her eyes. Ian didn’t try to hold back the laughter.
“I told you to sip. You took in too much, especially for your first taste.” He poured a little water into each of their glasses. “Now try again. Remember to sip, and I think you may discover you like scotch.”
Doubt flooded the expressive eyes, but she put the glass to her mouth again and sipped. “Better. At least my throat doesn’t feel like I swallowed hot coals.”
Ian wiped a drop of moisture from the corner of her upper lip. His fingers lingered, caressing the smooth, creamy skin. By the Powers, how he loved the feel of this woman.
But she delighted all his senses, not just the softness of her under his hand. Her touch of Southern accent was like music to his ears, while her smell reminded him of a rose garden on a warm spring afternoon. He could feast his eyes on her lovely form for hours and never tire of the sight.
He needed to taste her. His decision made, he tipped her chin up, leaned over, and brushed his lips against hers. When she offered no resistance, he deepened the kiss. The hint of sherried whisky on her soft mouth whetted his appetite for more.
When Emma’s lips parted slightly, no further invitation was needed. Ian slipped his tongue inside and allowed himself the luxury to explore. By the time he tasted every inch of her warm mouth, his passion sky-rocketed to a level of intensity he hadn’t known in a long time, if ever.
Pulling back, he looked into eyes that only a moment before reminded him of whisky but were now were a rich dark chocolate, yet another thing he loved. A sigh escaped Emma’s kiss-swollen lips, and she placed a hand behind his head to draw his mouth back to meet hers.
Ian captured the waiting lips and resumed his exploration. He glided his hands down and stroked her full breasts, kneading through the silk blouse. The bra restricted his access to her hard nipples. He worked the buttons free until he could slip a hand in and push away the lace that covered her soft full breasts.
“Oh, my.”
Emma’s gasp of pleasure encouraged him. Ian freed one of the creamy mounds, his fingers grazing over the bare flesh. Releasing her mouth, he lowered his head to take a taut peak between his teeth. She gasped again. Delighted with her response, he retraced his path back to her mouth.
He reached downward and inched Emma’s skirt up her smooth thighs. She ground her lower body against his erection as she dug her fingers into his buttocks through the fabric of his kilt. He needed to shed his clothes and experience the bite of her nails against his skin. The thought intensified his passion and he moved to lower them to the sheep skin rug in front of the fireplace.
“By the Powers, what goes on here?”
Ian froze at the words as Emma went rigid in his arms. He pushed down her skirt and turned, stepping in front of Emma to shield her. Locked in a stare of fury with the intruder, he fumbled to straighten his shirt and jacket.
Forcing a smile, he greeted the new arrival. “What brings you here tonight, Morgana?”
Fire shot from the dark eyes of the petite woman who placed her hands on her hips and glared at them. “I thought you would like company on a nasty night such as this, but obviously I am wrong.” Her gaze drifted to Emma, and her lips rose in a sneer. “Looks like you have entertainment enough and don’t need me.”
Ian counted to ten. He’d told the impertinent faerie not to pop in unannounced, but she listened no better than his mother when he told her to stop meddling in his life.
“Yes, as you can see, I have guests.” Ian reached for Emma’s hand, surprised to find it cold where only a few minutes before the fingers had radiated heat as they explored his body. He pulled her closer to him for warmth. “Emma, this is Morgana, a lifelong friend and as close to a sibling as I have, since my parents decided one child was enough.”
He placed an arm around Emma’s waist. “Morgana, Emma and her friends are staying with me for a few days while their coach is repaired.”
Bloody hell, I forgot to share the coach status. Safe to say your mind was elsewhere, old boy, and your real intentions were to have the lovely Emma to yourself.
“Sibling?” Morgana hissed the word, making it sound dirty. “If we are siblings, family relationships have been taken to a new level.”
Ian fought the urge to smack the rude Faerie and kept his free hand at his side, clinched into a fist. How dare she imply there was more to their relationship? Morgana had a temper when things didn’t go her way, but she had no right to come into his home and fill his guest’s head with lies.
“Morgana, watch your mouth. If you can’t show respect to me and my guests, I’ll ask you to leave.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. “Very well, then. My apologies, Emma. I’m used to having Ian to myself. I do not share him with the mortal world.”
Ian saw Emma’s wrinkled brow. “She means the rest of the world, my dear. You can attest to the fact this is a rather isolated location, and Morgana is one of our most frequent visitors.” He shot a warning look at the faerie, daring her to make another comment.
Emma pulled away from Ian and smiled. “I don’t want to infringe on your visit with such a longtime friend, so if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll retire.”
He wanted to strangle Morgana. Maybe he could stop by her room later and explain. But what would he explain? That she’d wandered into a faerie realm and he was an immortal who passed for mortal? Yeah, right, that sounded totally believable if one had been committed to a psychiatric ward.
“You’re probably tired after the day you’ve had.” Ian mentally kicked himself for his earlier behavior. The hit on the head had undoubtedly traumatized her, and he’d taken advantage of the situation. Maybe Morgana’s arrival was for the best, or he would have taken Emma on the sheepskin rug in front of the fire. Lust had replaced logic in his desire to make love to her.
“Good night, then.”
Emma hurried from the room, obviously uncomfortable with the situation, and Ian felt like the world’s biggest jerk at the embarrassment he’d caused her.
“Ian.” Morgana pulled on his hand. “I’m sorry I interrupted your dalliance.” She batted moisture from her eyes and offered him a quivering smile. “You know I’d never do anything to intentionally create problems, don’t you?”
“Oh, Morgana, what am I to do with you?” There were times when the faerie needed to be turned over someone’s knee and given a sound spanking, but somehow, Ian thought maybe she’d enjoy the process. No, it wouldn’t have the desired effect of teaching her a lesson.
But, one thing was sure. Morgana would always be here for him. Emma Grant, on the other hand, he wasn’t so positive about—no matter how much he wanted the woman to become part of his life.
Chapter Eight
Morning sun streamed through the window and roused Emma from a restless sleep. Unable to erase the memories of Ian’s kisses from her mind, she’d tossed and turned until exhaustion claimed her. The man was hot enough to melt a Rocky Mountain snow bank, and when his talented fingers had pushed her bra cup aside and flicked across her nipple…well she’d come pretty close to a melt-down herself.
What in hell had happened last night? One minute he had been all over her, fanning the flames in both of them and the next, he was about as warm as a frosty martini. He’d left her shaken and stirred, that much was for sure. The change had happened when that snotty little bitch, Morgana, showed up.
Morgana! How she hated the name, in addition to the woman’s appearance. Slim, petite females were the bane of Emma’s existence. She had to live with a size two mother and sister who both made her feel like the hulk, only she wasn’t incredible—just big.
The summer before her freshman year of high school, she’d shot up six inches. When school started, she lumbered down the hallways like an elephant
to shouts of, “How’s the weather up there?” along with remarks too crude to think about.
Most of the “in crowd” girls fell into the petite little darling category. They never missed an opportunity to make a jab about her size, causing Emma to feel even more like an outsider.
Little Miss Morgana made that group look gigantic, and she was twice as bitchy. Was Ian involved with her? He denied the innuendos the woman had dropped as to their relationship, but who to believe? She Emma barely knew this man who had the ability to make her heart do flip-flops and send heat rushing through her body with just a smile. When he’d touched her last night, her internal thermometer hit triple digits. He could have had her right there on the floor, and she would have gone to bed exhausted and satisfied instead of frustrated and pissed.
Enough of the pity party!
She threw her legs over the edge of the bed, bumped the table, and was rewarded with a thud when something hit the floor. “What the hell?” She bent down and picked up the book at her feet. A puzzled frown puckered her brow as she stared at the back cover. The only thing she remembered being on the table last night was a lamp and clock. With her passion for books, she’d remember one being there because even upset, she would have skimmed through it.
She turned the book over and read the title. Charms and Spells. How the hell did a copy of this end up on my bedside table?
Slipping back under the covers, Emma thumbed through the book until she came to the spell she’d tried at home. Yep, the chant was the same one on the piece of paper the nutty old woman had given her in Edinburgh. “Hmmm, must be a pretty common book in Scotland if it’s bedside reading for guest rooms.”
Emma scanned through the pages beyond the one she’d keyed in on back home and discovered spells for just about any issue one wanted to tackle. “Nope, not interested in removing spots from leopards or attracting a unicorn. At least not today.” She turned a few more pages.
Too bad they don’t have a charm in here on how to turn a skinny little bitch into an ox. Or better yet, get a hot man named Ian McCabe into my bed. Now that one I might be foolish enough to try.
Even with the big make out scene, there wasn’t much chance of her getting a stud like Ian between the sheets. A weary sigh escaped her as she turned to the next page which explained how to conjure faeries. The picture of a winged couple caused her to pause. The male gazed with longing at the female. Geesh, yet another reminder how adorable petite women are. No wonder she hated them.
“Just what I need, some guy comparing me to the little dainties he’s spent his prior sack-time with. Besides, don’t think I want to date someone that much shorter than I am. He makes Tom Cruise look tall.”
Emma flipped through a few more pages. “Here we go! Immortal gods of all variety. Let’s see…Greek…yeah, that would work. A nice strong Greek hunk to be at my beck and call.” She ran her finger down the list. “No, wait. Nordic gods, even better. A nice Viking to heat up my nights. I could definitely get into him…or would that be him getting into me?” She giggled, turned another page, and sighed.
So much for mythology that required a belief in magic, magic being something she didn’t believe in. Hell, she hadn’t had any luck with chants and spells from the stupid book back at home when she was dumb enough to try it. Since she received the same instructions from the crazy old woman who pulled her in from the alley in Edinburgh and got the same results she had in Denver—as in none—she should know better.
Enough of this nonsense, time to get dressed and eat breakfast. She’d kill for a cup of coffee. Placing the book on the table, Emma headed for the shower. No more time for daydreams. She was still on the clock until she got the Golden Oldies onto their plane back to Atlanta.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” Morgana whirled Ian’s desk chair around and glared at Emma.
Isn’t that special. Haven’t had my first cup of coffee and I get to deal with Super Bitch.
“Am I supposed to be flattered or concerned?” Emma sat down on a plush chair and crossed her legs. She strived to appear undaunted but the woman rattled her.
In a take no prisoners voice of venom, Morgana declared, “I don’t care who or what you are, as long as you’re gone.”
The small woman moved across the room at a speed Emma found impressive in spite of herself.
She planted her feet in front of Emma’s chair and leaned in. “And the sooner the better.”
If she’d remembered her breath mints, Emma would have offered one to the pint-sized individual ordering her to leave. A little mouth wash wouldn’t hurt either, if the snippy bitch insisted on blowing in people’s faces. “First of all, I’m afraid when I leave will be determined by how quickly the village mechanic repairs our bus…uh…coach.” Wait a minute. Why did she allow someone almost half her size to bully her around? “And secondly, I don’t recall the person to whom this house belongs asking me to leave.”
Emma resisted a smile of triumph when Morgana’s head snapped back.
A smack in the beyotch’s face might have given me more satisfaction, but this works.
The little woman’s dark eyes narrowed to slits, and she backed away from Emma. “I know what you want. You’re like all the other mortal females, after his title and money.”
“Like who? His what?” Emma wasn’t sure what Morgana meant.
Why in hell does she keep sprinkling mortal into her statement? This chick is loony-bin material.
“Excuse me, miss.” Helmond entered with a tray loaded with a silver pot and several cups. “I thought you may want coffee before breakfast is served.”
Emma smiled her appreciation at the little man. Not all small people were rude. “Thank you, Helmond. I’d love it.” She didn’t miss the look Morgana directed at him. The glare was so sour, could have curdled the cream on the tray.
Obviously, there’s no love lost between them.
“The other ladies are up and about, miss, and should be joining you soon.” He poured a cup. “Do you take cream and sugar?”
“Neither, thanks.”
The butler handed her the cup and saucer, and Emma inhaled the rich aroma. She gave him a grateful grin. “You just saved my life.”
Or at the very least saved me from making a major fool of myself when I insulted your boss’s friend.
Emma almost dropped her cup when Morgana appeared at her side. “Remember what I said. Be gone soon, and while you’re here, keep your hands and lips off Ian. He’s mine.”
Shocked at the animosity in the other woman’s words, Emma watched her storm from the room.
“Ignore her, miss.”
Emma redirected her attention to the butler. He would know the answers to the questions swirling in her head. “What did she mean about mortals and something about a title?”
“As I said, ignore her. She’s confused at times.” Helmond fluttered around the room and plumped the pillows on various chairs.
“Confused, I can see.” Emma took a sip of coffee. Now, this was nectar of the gods. “How does she appear out of the blue the way she does? I didn’t see her come in the room last night.” Of course, that was understandable given how distracted she had been with Ian’s hands all over her body.
“Well, miss. This is an old castle, and there are a lot of hidden passages. Morgana and the master played inside during bad weather when he was a lad, so I’m sure she knows where many of them are located.”
Emma heard the sound of voices. Her question and answer session was over. “Thank you. I see how that would make it seem like she appears out of thin air.”
“Exactly, miss. I’ll check on breakfast.” He departed as two of her group entered the room.
“Good morning, dear,” Mildred called.
Barb grumbled about something under her breath.
“Good morning.” Emma smiled, happy to see the day was off to a normal start with at least two of the ladies. “What’s wrong, Barb? You don’t look very happy.”
“Some little snip o
f a girl almost ran me over. She didn’t even bother to stop and apologize.” Barb sniffed and then ran boney fingers through her fine salt and pepper curls. “If she’s one of the staff, Ian needs to see she gets a good talking to. There’s no call for rudeness, no matter how much of a hurry you’re in.”
“Oh, you must have met Ian’s friend, Morgana. She was in rush, and I’m sure she didn’t mean to offend you.”
With any luck, we’ll be out of here before she decides on another visit.
“Ladies.” Helmond stood in the doorway. “Breakfast is served and the others are already seated.”
“Thank you.” Mildred batted her eyes at the butler and gave him a smile any coquette would envy. “Will Ian join us?”
“Yes, miss. He had to take care of a farm issue and is now cleaning up. He will be down shortly.”
Cleaning up? Doesn’t sound good, and I think my morning started out with a bang when Little Bitch showed up.
Ian’s need to deal with an issue that required immediate attention made her feel a little better. Breathing a sigh of relief she wasn’t the reason for his non-appearance, Emma followed the others to the dining room.
The chatter of the women seated around the table had come to an abrupt end when he entered the dining room. Warm greetings from the group occupied him for a few minutes as he made his way to the head of the table. Emma toyed with her food. Her cheeks bloomed with a rosy flush each time she glanced over and caught him watching her.
Emma looked radiant this morning, and when he gave her a little wink to let her know he remembered the fun part of last night, the rosy flush went to a bright red. He suppressed a chuckle and thought about the prior evening, though he’d rather forget what happened after Morgana’s arrival.
The little faerie had been stubborn and hard to get rid of. When she did get the message he was serious about wanting her gone, she’d left in a huff. He hoped she didn’t show up today and cause problems for the staff as revenge for their disagreement.
Beyond Magic (Magical Love Book 1) Page 8