His Heart's Desire

by Kristi Ahlers

  “Well, either way, it’s really none of your business.”

  “You’ve already made her angry and had your first fight. That didn’t take long.”

  “What do you want, Alec?”

  “You need my help. Meagan wants us to go on a tour of the Quarter. Come with us. We can grab something to eat first. I’ll work my magic and help you fix what you broke.”

  “My, aren’t you sure of yourself? And I don’t need your help with Catrìona.”

  “Yeah, buddy, you do,” Alec said.

  “Buddy?”

  “Forget it. We’ll be over in a bit.”

  Braden looked at the phone after Alec hung up on him. The day was going from bad to worse.

  “Who was that on the phone?”

  Braden spun around and faced Catrìona. “Sorry, hope you don’t mind. It was Alec.”

  She roughed the towel over her wet head. “Is he all right? What did he want?”

  “I guess your friend wants to take him on a tour of the Quarter. We’re going with them.”

  “Oh, those tours are fun.”

  “Lass . . .”

  Catrìona held up her hand. “We better hurry and get ready. Meagan doesn’t live far from here.”

  Braden watched as she dropped the towel and pulled on lacy panties and bra. He wanted her again. She was so fine; a beauty inside and out. There were changes with this Catrìona. She was strong and able. He liked that about her. But at the same time these changes only seemed to magnify his shortcomings.

  “Are you sure you want to go? We can just tell Alec to go without us.”

  Catrìona pulled out a shirt and pair of jeans. “Don’t be silly. These things are fun. I wanted to take you on one too, remember?”

  “I thought we could talk.”

  “About what, Braden? You told me you don’t have the answers and there is nothing I can do to change that. Our situation is not a common one and I’m going to have to work on keeping my patience.”

  “You know that if I could give you a guarantee, I would.”

  Catrìona gave him a sad smile. “Life doesn’t come with guarantees.”

  “I guess I’d better get dressed, huh?”

  “Yeah, you’d cause a riot right now and I’m not interested in watching women pawing at you.”

  Braden walked over and cupped her face. “You don’t have to worry about my head being turned, lass. You’re the one I want.” He sealed his words with a tender kiss, ending it before things got out of hand. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The two couples walked hand-in-hand to Jackson Square where they caught the horse-drawn carriage tour. The sun had set and the cool air caused Cat to seek warmth against Braden’s side.

  Braden was astounded by the sights and sounds, not to mention the smells, of the world around him. The river combined with spicy aromas from restaurants and bars, along with other indefinable scents. The experiences of the Quarter were very different when walking along the crowded sidewalks.

  They all leisurely walked around the square, looking at the various art for sale. There were strangely-dressed people sitting at little tables and Catrìona informed him they were tarot readers. A chill danced up his spine when they passed one particular woman. She had long dark hair with purple stripes in it. She stood as they approached. “You must have a seat and listen to what I have to say. Your future is very unsettled.”

  Braden moved a little quicker, not bothering to look at the strange woman with the oddly prophetic tongue.

  “Your aura is telling me things I think you must hear and heed.”

  “No, thank you.” Catrìona stopped and gave the woman a smile.

  “Mark my words; there is peril ahead of you that you should be prepared for.”

  Meagan shook her head. “For God’s sake. They’re really getting bold nowadays, aren’t they?”

  “No kidding.” Catrìona turned to look behind them.

  “Come, lass.” They turned the corner and Braden caught a flash of movement from the side of his eye. He stopped for a moment and stared at the woman as she held his gaze. He looked around and noticed Catrìona standing off to the side.

  “Braden, are you all right?”

  He squeezed her hand and looked over his shoulder once again, but the strange lady with her haunting words was gone. “Aye.” The unsettling moment was gone.

  In short order they found a carriage and boarded the vehicle.

  Braden put his arm around Catrìona and tried to put the strange woman out of his mind. He inhaled Cat’s sweet scent and felt calm settle over him.

  The carriage moved down the street and turned a corner. The driver—a sweet young girl—began her speech and Braden listened with half an ear.

  “What kind of tour is this, lass?” he asked.

  “This is the haunted tour. Our guide just told us we’ll be able to go through St. Louis No. 1.” She smiled. “This is a great treat since the gates are normally locked after dark.”

  “What is this St. Louis place?”

  “It’s the oldest cemetery in the city. Marie Laveau is entombed there.”

  “Who is she?” Braden didn’t understand why this was so important.

  “She was a famous voodoo priestess. She was born here in the Quarter in 1801. She was the daughter of a white plantation owner and her freed mother of color, who was Creole. She married a man and their marriage certificate is on display in the Saint Louis Cathedral. Her power was great and many come to request boons from her and leave tributes.”

  “Was she a black witch?” Braden wasn’t comfortable with such a concept. Magic was not something to mess around with.

  “Some say yes, some say no. She was both feared and revered.”

  “Do you believe in this voodoo you speak of?”

  Catrìona shrugged. “I’ve seen too much to ignore the power found within the Vodoun religion.”

  “Do you practice this art?”

  “No, Braden. I don’t.”

  Her words calmed him. He couldn’t explain it—he, who had been victim of a druid priestess’ curse—but there it was.

  The slow progress of the carriage allowed Braden to absorb the atmosphere of the historic and narrow roads. The architecture of the different buildings interested him greatly. The colors and styles were so very different with the black iron workings. These things were unlike anything he’d ever seen in Scotland.

  “Look, Braden.” Catrìona pointed at a very imposing house on the corner of Royal Street. “This is New Orleans’ very own haunted house.”

  Braden turned his attention to the tour guide. She spoke with authority.

  “Marie Delphine LaLaurie and her husband were very popular in New Orleans society, giving lavish dinner parties and other social entertainments. What society didn’t know is that Madame LaLaurie loved to torture her slaves. When her temper got the best of her, she beat a young slave and the beating resulted in this young girl’s death. Madam LaLaurie was charged a small fine. The truth of her atrocious existence did not surface until there was a fire in the Quarter. The horrors found in their attic caused people to scream and fall ill. Slaves were chained in various positions, starving, with weeping sores. It is believed that the souls of previous victims of Madame LaLaurie haunt this building today.”

  Braden stared at the townhouse. A flickering gas lamp suspended over the entryway dispelled a few shadows that dared encroach.

  The carriage moved along but a storefront caught Braden’s eye. “What is that place called?” he asked Catrìona.

  “It’s a voodoo shop? Why?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t get a good feeling when we passed it.”

  “Hmm.” Catrìona tightened her hold on his hands.

  They left the French Quarter behind and entered an intersection. Across the way Braden could see the above-ground tombs.

  “We’ll be stopping here for a short time. If you would like, there is a tour guide that w
ill take you through the cemetery. This is the famous, and in some case infamous, final resting place of many of New Orleans’ past residents. Madame LaLaurie and Mary Laveau now call this location home.”

  “Alec, do you want to wander around?” Meagan asked.

  “Sure, let’s go. Hey, are you two going to come?” Alec asked.

  Catrìona shook her head. “I don’t like to go in there, but Braden can go if he wants.”

  “No, I’ll stay here with you.”

  They watched Alec and Meagan walk through the gate and into St. Louis No. 1.

  Cars drove by and people spoke in hushed whispers.

  After a short time the rest of the tour returned and they returned to the front of Saint Louis Cathedral.

  Both men were starving by this time and they decided to get something to eat.

  “Why don’t we go to ACME Oyster House? It’s over on Iberville Street and they’ve got a great menu,” Catrìona suggested.

  “Oh, I love their food,” Meagan said. “You will both find something there you’ll like.”

  Dinner was a rushed affair but delicious nonetheless. Both couples wanted to find some quiet time alone.

  After a late lunch was over, they walked the four city blocks back to Catrìona’s townhouse. Alec and Meagan said their goodbyes with promises to hook up the next afternoon.

  Braden’s heart kicked at the thought of being alone with his lass. He’d had a lot of time to think and he knew that eventually they’d have to talk. After he apologized, of course.

  * * *

  After Meagan and Alec left, Cat quickly locked the door and walked back into the living room where Braden was waiting for her.

  “Come here, darlin’, let me hold you,” Braden said softly.

  Cat moved over to the sofa and sat beside him. He wrapped his arms around her and sat back to watch the television. They’d decided earlier, while they waited for Meagan and Alec to return from the cemetery tour, that they would have a movie fest and Braden had slipped a Sandra Bullock romantic comedy into the DVD player. He absentmindedly ran his hand up and down Cat’s arm as they watched the television screen.

  She relaxed in Braden’s arms and enjoyed the movie, determined not to allow any unpleasant thoughts to mar the evening she was sharing with him.

  When the movie was over, Braden turned off the television and Cat shifted in his arms so she could look up at him. “We need to talk one of these days, you know.”

  “Aye.”

  “I’m just as worried about things as you are, Braden.” She hoped that by stating this bluntly he’d be willing to open up.

  The look he gave her was long and searching and she could tell right away they were done talking.

  Braden cupped the back of her head and pulled her close, kissing her softly.

  Cat moaned and accepted his tongue. She gently suckled on it as their lips melded into the sweetest of kisses. Almost frantic with her need for him and fear of losing him, she rose up on her knees and then straddled Braden. She would forget things for just a little while and make love to Braden.

  Slowly she rubbed herself against his rock hard arousal, tormenting them both with her actions.

  Braden raised the skirt of her dress and palmed the silky softness of her buttocks as she gently rocked herself against him. He tore his mouth away from her lips and began nibbling his way down her neck while he pulled down the straps of her dress. When he finally uncovered her to the waist, he sucked the hardened point of her nipple through the lacy cup of her bra. He worked the bud with his teeth and tongue, and used the lacy fabric as a way to heighten the sensitivity of her flesh. Back and forth he lavished attention on the rosy tips of her nipples. Cat groaned and rocked harder against his erection as she accepted his ministrations, but she soon realized that it was not enough; she had to touch him, and she had to feel skin against skin.

  Cat started to unbutton his shirt but became impatient and tore the button off as she ripped the shirt apart, then she started on the buckle, button, and zipper of his slacks. His throbbing erection sprung free of its restraints and into her waiting hands. Braden groaned as she stroked him and he thrust his hips forward, aching and needing more contact. Their mouths fused together again as hands fumbled to remove the last lacy barriers between them.

  Soon Cat was naked on his lap and Braden ran his hands down her soft stomach and into the thatch of damp curls that protected her aching center. Cat’s hands were equally busy, stroking and squeezing his erection and scrotum as she rocked against his magical hands and fingers. As if by mutual agreement, she rose up and impaled herself on his penis.

  Braden cherished the warm tight fit of her honeyed passage as it gripped him in its velvet hold. Slowly, as he kissed her, he urged her hips up and down on his aching flesh. Still it wasn’t enough, he couldn’t seem to get deep enough to satisfy the aching pain in his groin and, without withdrawing from her, he stood and then gently placed her down on the couch.

  Braden felt Catrìona wrap her legs around his waist and was instantly allowed deeper access. With long deep strokes, he filled her totally. She met him stroke for stroke and together they found the tempo that bound their bodies together.

  Braden felt his impending orgasm but didn’t want to come without her. “Come for me, my Catrìona,” he whispered, as he ground his groin into her. He held her tightly, not allowing her any movement as he pounded himself against her clit.

  It was too much, and Cat felt herself shatter into a thousand pieces just as Braden stiffened and then groaned with his release.

  She was filled with an amazing sense of peace as her breathing and heartbeat slowed back to normal. Braden shifted, then stood and lifted her up into his arms. He turned out the lights then carried her upstairs and gently placed her on the bed. Together they drifted to sleep, each calm and content. Tomorrow would be soon enough to face what they so desperately wanted to ignore.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The next morning Cat woke to the roaring of a motorcycle. She brushed her hair out of her face and glanced at the clock.

  “Damn.” Cat sat up and struggled to get her mind working. She pushed the sheets off and stumbled over to the window and looked down into the courtyard.

  “Damn.” She blinked her eyes and tried to get her sleepy eyes to focus. There, down below, was Nana.

  Nana was her grandmother’s best friend and had made it her goal in life to bedevil and tease Cat whenever the opportunity arose. At one point, Cat had thought she was in love with Nan’s grandson, Remy, but had been cured of that after several dates. Remy was a better friend than boyfriend.

  Braden moaned. “Where are you going, Sweeting?”

  “You have to get up. My Nana is here and you have to be presentable.”

  “I thought your grandmother was dead?”

  “She is. This is my adopted Nana. Now, move it, Braden. I’m not kidding.”

  “Okay, okay.” He tossed the sheets back and stood. In the process he took her breath away and made her wish they could spend more time in bed.

  “I’m going to go down to meet Nana. You . . . you get dressed and come down when you’re ready.”

  “Why are you so nervous, lass?”

  Good question. “I’m not.” She offered a small shrug.

  Braden stalked over to her, looking for all the world like the wild Highland warrior he once was. His long dark hair hung loose around his shoulders and his deep eyes promised so much.

  Shaking herself back to the moment, she pushed his naked body toward the bathroom. “We don’t have time for this. Get showered and dressed.”

  Braden laughed. “Very well, lass.” He pressed her lips to his, caressing her mouth more than kissing it.

  Cat wrapped her arms around his waist, trying to deepen the touch.

  “I thought you had a guest arriving?” Braden kissed her chin and then her eyes.

  “Crap.” Cat stepped around the temptation he represented. “Hurry.” She crossed the room and
put much needed distance between them. His deep chuckle danced up her spine as she closed the door behind her.

  Halfway down the stairs she heard the back door open and Nana call out.

  “Cat, dear, are you home?” Nana let herself in with the key Cat had given her. “Catrìona, where are you, cherie? I have the most delicious news,” she walked into Cat’s kitchen.

  Cat entered the room with a greeting upon her lips, but stopped stone cold, staring with a deceptively composed façade. Nana had changed the color of her hair yet again, and this time the color was pink. Shocking pink. That might have been easy to overlook if she wasn’t dressed in biker leathers.

  Cat swallowed her laughter and asked, “What in heaven’s name are you wearing?”

  “Why, darlin’, the latest in biker wear. Don’t you like it? I think it will go well with my new hog.” While making that pronouncement, she turned in a full circle so Cat could get a good look at her new outfit.

  Cat stammered, “You have a Harley? That bike out there is yours? When on earth did you get a motorcycle, and why? I mean, I thought you loved your Caddie, and now your hair would match it and everything.” She smiled at the end of the comment and quickly suppressed the shiver that wracked her body at the thought of Nana on the back of a motorcycle.

  Nana had been the top salesperson for a makeup company many years earlier and had earned her pink Caddie; a source of pride and joy for her for a long time. As far as Nana’s hair color, that changed on a weekly basis. Before Cat left for Scotland, it had been a charming shade of . . . well, one could only call it orange, which of course had clashed violently with the pink Caddie.

  “Well, darlin’, I just figured I needed a change. When I stopped off at ‘Captain Teach’s’ the fellas there thought I was perfect for the new roadster.”

  “What do you mean you were at Teach’s and what fellas?” Cat could no longer hide her surprise. Captain Teach’s was a well-known roadhouse out by Bayou Noir on the outskirts of New Orleans. Bikers, poachers, and just about any other tough guy you could think of, frequented it. Cat sent a prayer skyward that none of Nana’s new friends were felons, or worse.