“Thank you, Helmond.” Ian acknowledged the refill of his coffee cup. The old elf was on the ball this morning, seeing to the needs of the guests with gusto, especially one of them.
How interesting. The butler hovered over Deena. Helmond didn’t give this much attention to females, not even Ian’s mother when she was in residence.
“Miss Deena, try this one.” Helmond pointed to a large scone on the tray he held toward her. “A fine lady such as you must keep up her strength.”
Keep up her strength. The woman would make two of Helmond. Good grief, I think he’s smitten.
Deena eyed the scone until she heard the giggle Sue Ann couldn’t manage to stifle. “Never mind, short-stuff. Thanks for the thought, but I’m sure I have enough strength to get through until lunch.” Deena directed a glare in Sue Ann’s direction that turned the other woman’s laughter into a choking sound, resulting in Mary pounding Sue Ann’s back with vigor.
Ian put his napkin to his mouth to hide his smile. Several other diners did the same, including Emma.
Oh, well, he could hardly fault Helmond for falling under the spell of a woman. After all, look at him. Last night would have been a sleepless night filled with thoughts of Emma if a knock on the door hadn’t pulled him from bed. Instead, he’d spent the night in the stables, helping a cow deliver her first calf. He could have expedited the process with magic, but experience had taught him it was best to let nature take her course when possible.
“Ladies.”
Conversation around the table halted and all eyes turned to Ian.
“I’m afraid a part had to be ordered for your coach, and I’m delighted to have you as my guests for another day.”
Now the question was what to do with them. “If you’d care for a brisk walk, please feel free to join me. It’s still quite blustery out, but if you dress for the weather I’d be happy to show you around my property.” Or maybe not. This was a group of mortal women well into their older years. “Then again, if you’d rather not face the elements, please feel free to make yourself at home inside the castle. There’s an excellent selection of books in the library, and Helmond, I’m sure, would be willing to give anyone interested a tour of the castle.”
That is, anyone but Emma. She may not know it yet, but she’s coming with me.
The consensus from the group seemed to be the castle tour.
Ian stood and looked at Emma. “Do you feel up to a bit of fresh air?”
He loved the pink tint that flowed into her cheeks when she whispered, “yes.”
“Excellent. Then let’s go and dress for our adventure.”
When she slipped her fingers into his offered hand, sparks shot straight to his core, if one wanted to consider the instant erection his core. Thank the Powers he chose to wear a kilt this morning.
As with last night, the women left the room in whispers and smothered laughter, which made Ian chuckle, positive he and Emma would be the main subject of conversation as the group wiled away their day.
Chapter Nine
“Look!” Emma pointed to the large bird that soared lazily overhead.
Impressive for sure to see a hawk so large. It was as big as the eagles in the sanctuary at the zoo back home. Ian’s frown left her puzzled.
“Is something wrong?” It seemed strange for him to appear upset by a bird drifting in the sky, unless it posed a danger to the lambs that frolicked around their mothers as they grazed in the meadow below. But the little white balls of fluff bouncing around were too large for the bird, weren’t they?
His attempt to replace the scowl with a smile worked better on his second effort. “No, it’s just a bird of prey on the hunt. The farmers will need to keep a sharp eye out for their smaller animals’ safety.”
“Really? Hawks go after small animals here?” She’d grown up in the South, and mice, rabbits, and occasionally kittens or puppies were prey to the large birds, but farm animals? Good grief, talk about predators.
“It depends on the hawk’s hunger and the size of the animal.” He shrugged and reached for her hand. “That’s enough talk about birds. I want to learn more about you.”
If he wanted her to bore him with her life story, the man must be starved for conversation. Her life put her to sleep most days, so why expect less from anyone else if she shared it?
Grandma Edith, the one person in Emma’s family she’d been close to, had died while Emma was in college. Granted, her grandmother had gone a little strange when she went through the change of life. Still, knowing Edith’s erratic behavior was due to hormone imbalance didn’t sway Emma’s mother, Nola, in her judgments of the older woman’s actions. Her uptight social-climber mother never forgave the old woman for the embarrassment she caused the family by chasing grandpa around the yard with a butcher knife one night.
Emma still could hear the shouts of fury as the petite woman chased the six-foot man across the lawn.
“You’d better run, you bastard. If I catch you, I’m gonna slice and dice that wanger of yours into so many pieces, there’ll be enough to go around to all your sluts.”
Neighbors had called the cops, which, given the family involved, resulted in the Chief of Police coming.
“Why’d you do it Edith?” he’d asked in amazement.
Grandma didn’t bat an eye as she stared the Chief down. “He come home one too many times smelling of cheap perfume and his latest whore.”
No, Mama didn’t forgive the old woman, but there were things Mama had done that Emma didn’t forgive either.
For starters, Nola had cast aside the daughter who wasn’t interested in climbing the social ladder in their small town. Throw in her mother’s constant comparison of Emma’s imperfections to the beautiful Faith, and it would be enough to put most people in therapy for years. No, she didn’t need or want a family that only brought pain.
Those little tidbits she decided not to share with Ian. Or the fact that at her mother’s funeral several years ago, she’d experienced more relief than grief. God had chosen to ignore her childhood plea to discover she was adopted to explain the alienation that existed between her and Nola. So when she turned ten, Emma decided to divorce herself from the need of her mother’s love.
Emma graduated from the Northeast Women’s University with a degree in accounting, but hadn’t felt the need to return to South Carolina to build her career and listen to her mother’s endless examples of how disappointing her younger daughter turned out.
The thought of contending with her mother and Faith, her older ever perfect sister, was more than she could handle without Grandma Edith to lend moral support. An offer had come from a Denver accounting firm, and Emma snapped it up, hoping there would be enough miles between her and her judgmental family to heal the pains of youth.
In Denver, she reconnected with her college roommate Cori. They became roommates again, but the perky blonde also became her best friend and sister of the heart. There was nothing she couldn’t share with the bubbly, energetic blonde. Even the frustrations that occurred when two different personalities lived together were easy to work through.
Emma chewed on her bottom lip as Ian watched her. No way did she want to air all her dirty family laundry, but he needed to know some. She gave Ian the censored, condensed version of her life. Emma didn’t miss the glassy stare when she ended with, “and a career change that involved people seemed a better option than crunching numbers the rest of my life.”
Now that he was good and bored, maybe he’d relax his guard and share the real skinny on why his ancestors had built a castle in this Godforsaken location. And how the hell had they hauled all the stone needed to create a building of endless rooms up here?
“I understand this property has been in your family a long time. Why did they choose such an isolated area, and how have you managed to keep civilization at bay?” She smiled “I’m surprised a greedy developer hasn’t built right up to your door.”
She had to be mistaken in what she read into his respo
nse. Why would he flinch at such a simple question?
“Aye, well, you have to remember, there was a time when most places were isolated.”
Emma shivered as a gust of cold air caught her unawares. This is freaking June. How the heck can it be so cold? The mist had rolled in while she grilled him and hadn’t helped dispel the chill.
Ian adjusted his tartan, wrapping one end around her shoulders, and then snuggled her in the crook of his arm.
He stood for a moment looking out over the moors, his blue eyes darkening. “My family has always enjoyed their privacy. We like to be accessible if we’re needed but don’t want to open ourselves to a continuous flow of traffic. That’s why we own the land for miles around.”
She could appreciate that. Plenty of times she’d wished for a more isolated existence, especially when solicitors pounded on her door and attempted to sell something or those who wanted to have an instantaneous bible study. The worst, though, were the telemarketers pushing their latest and greatest deal, and those recorded calls really grated on her last nerve. A pause before a recording kicked in was guaranteed a hang up.
Turning her head, she saw Ian staring at her. Her pulse quickened, and all thoughts of cold forgotten as the wind whipped around them and his mouth lowered to meet hers. The first sensation of cool lips rapidly disappeared, replaced by heat flooding through her body. She could stay snuggled here forever. She pressed closer against him.
“Mmmm.”
Ian’s moan of appreciation matched hers, and she leaned tighter against his firm body.
“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” She’d had her share of kisses from guys who considered themselves experts, but none matched Ian’s knee-weakening smooch. The waves of heat and passion he generated just by pressing his lips against hers were a new sensation and she didn’t want the pleasure to end.
He slipped his hands inside her coat and cupped her breasts over the bulky sweater. “It’s difficult to touch you through all these clothes. Too bad it’s not a warm balmy day. I’d lay you down here on the moors and love you like you’ve never been loved.”
His hot breath against her ear left her wanting him to prove his words. Yes, it was cold, and earlier she regretted not wearing her long underwear under her skirt, but now the heat that surged through her gave enough warmth to discard the layers protecting her from the chill.
A sudden blast of wind brought her back to reality.
Maybe she wasn’t ready to strip naked, but he was in his kilt, and the time had come to find out what this Scot wore under his. Emma slid down his body and dropped to her knees, biting back a gasp at the cold dampness of the grass. She pulled his hips toward her face and worked her way up under the tartan, finding bare skin all the way.
A wicked grin played across her mouth. “So it’s true what they say about what a Scotsman wears under his kilt?” She dipped her head under the fabric, rubbing her cheeks along the waiting erection, amazed at her brazen behavior. This was not something Emma Grant did, but this man brought out a wild side she hadn’t known existed. She indulged her senses in his heat, his musky smell, and the soft caresses of his cock against her cheek.
Now to taste.
A gasp loud enough to be heard above the roar of the wind escaped Ian when she slipped his throbbing erection between her warm lips.
“Emma, what are you doing?”
What does it feel like I’m doing?
If he needed an explanation, he was more sheltered and isolated than she’d thought. Not bothering to answer, she continued toward her goal and was quickly rewarded with a shudder ripping through his body.
From the howl that tore out of him, he could have been a wild animal baying at the full moon on the darkened moors. But it was daylight, and he was responding to the release his body experienced, all thanks to her.
Emma slid her hands down his legs, and his knees quivered under her touch before he collapsed beside her. Damn, she was good. She’d just brought a very brawny man to his knees in the middle of a Scottish moor.
“Now it’s my turn,” he whispered in her ear as he rolled on top of her.
Ian’s hand slipped under the skirt, working it up to her hips. His fingers pushed aside the silk covering her crotch and touched her.
Emma’s heart pounded against her ribs and the tingling between her legs welcome the caress. The tingle turned into a throb and her back arched.
Emma came downstairs in her best mood since the start of the tour. Creating such a strong response in Ian earlier on the windblown moors made her feel more like a woman than she had in a long time. She’d never done anything like that with someone she’d dated a while, let alone almost a stranger. Something about this place brought out a new side of her, one that allowed her to release the repressed good girl and become the wild child she’d always dreamed of being.
Her foot hit the bottom step when she heard Mildred’s voice. Peals of laughter drowned out the speaker.
Shit, the old gal is in rare form Emma girl, you better brace yourself for what is to come.
Mildred would have no problem making the group’s tour director the center of attention with her comments and innuendoes about Emma and the laird of the manor.
Deena was the honored recipient at the moment. Emma’s stomach fluttered with compassion for the uptight woman. Memories of the number of times the group had made Emma squirm over the past few days flooded through her.
“All I’m saying, Deena, is he may be a short little shit, but short has its advantages.”
“How so?” Deena’s throaty response carried the same irritation that Emma had fought to control when she replied to their teasing.
Emma caught Mildred’s eyebrow wiggle as the dirty old woman looked around at the rest of the group for support. She winked and grinned to include in the joke. “Well, with the height difference, nose to nose, his toes are in it. And when you’re toes to toes, his nose is in it.”
Sue Ann had taken a sip of wine just as Mildred made her assessment on height, and the Southern belle spewed the red liquid through her nose, splattering her white skirt as she fought to catch her breath. The ever helpful Mary pounded the red-faced woman on the back until she could breathe again and then handed her a tissue to blot up some of the damage.
“Looks like you’re wearing a polka-dotted skirt. No one will notice anything out of the ordinary,” Mary assured Sue Ann.
Still watery-eyed from her experience, the blonde didn’t put up an argument.
Deena let the laughter subside before she retaliated. “You’ve got a good point there, Mildred.” She nodded. “There could be some advantages I hadn’t considered.”
More laughter erupted, and Emma could only pray no one had witnessed her display on the moors. If so, it would be a long “rest of the trip.”
“Excuse me, ladies.” Helmond stood at the door. His face flushed at the fresh round of laughter. “Dinner is served.” He backed out of the room faster than he’d entered.
Deena’s cheeks were flushed as she swept through the doorway, following behind the short man. A romance at seventy was something Emma never considered, but one was playing out before her eyes.
Still dazed over what had happened on the moors, Ian had given Emma a lingering kiss before she went upstairs to get ready for dinner. Taking her to his room and feasting on her again better suited his idea of fine dining, but Helmond had been waiting upon their return.
When the butler followed him into the library and closed the door, Ian had known he wasn’t going to like what was coming. Sure enough, Helmond told him Morgana had suggested to Emma that she and her group weren’t welcome at the castle. Why hadn’t Emma said anything to him about it?
Helmond’s words still rang in his ears. “Sire, be careful of Morgana. She’s out to cause mischief, that one.”
The old elf didn’t care for the faerie and had always considered her a trouble maker. Even though Helmond was old and set in his ways, Ian respected his judgment on most thin
gs. Yet when it came to Morgana, he couldn’t set aside all that was between them. The faerie had been the one who kept the loneliness of a small boy at bay, playing endless games with the child whose parents were so busy in their efforts to help the plight of mortals they seemed to forget they had a son. To him, she was the sibling his mother and father never provided for him.
Ian watched Emma from the corner of his eye as she leaned in to listen to whatever Ethel, the woman on her right, had to say. He knew from his attempts at conversation with Ethel, she had to get close to hear the soft spoken woman.
Emma looked beautiful tonight in a green sweater and black skirt, but she’d looked more beautiful walking on the moors with her hair windblown and her nose red from the cold.
The moors… A frown puckered his brow as he visualized the hawk that had circled above them. It was unusual for a bird of prey to circle above people for so long. The way it dipped and hovered reminded Ian of his Nordic grandfather when he shifted into his prey form. Was the old man spying on him? If so, he’d gotten an eye full.
Emma’s laughter pushed the thought from his mind. Instead, he relived the feel of her lips against his thighs and her hot mouth as it slid over his erection. The memory created a new problem. He was thankful to be seated as he worked to bring the rigid appendage between his legs under control.
He looked around the table for a distraction. Wait a minute. What’s this?
Helmond hovered over Deena tonight, more than he had at breakfast. What did the butler see in the older woman with the acid tongue? She topped him by half as much and had enough meat on her bones to outweigh him for sure.
Deena looked up and caught Ian’s stare. Her blue eyes stood out against skin the texture and color of well-tanned hide. The frown across her brow eased, replaced by a smile that carried into her sapphire eyes causing them to dance with merriment.
Her rich, throaty laugh rang out at something Helmond said and echoed through the dining room. That was it. Laughter and a zest for fun were alien to the dour old elf. There appeared to be a side to Deena she kept hidden from casual acquaintances, and Helmond had not only discovered it but responded as well.
Beyond Magic (Magical Love Book 1) Page 9