by A. C. James
Cyn was always good at speeding up Felicity’s decision-making process and helped transform her from short and dumpy to something resembling sophisticated. She didn’t know why she felt so nervous, considering their afternoon. Her faced flushed and sinful heat filled her core just thinking of Niall’s skillful tongue.
Much to her surprise, she didn’t feel guilty at all for shagging someone she barely knew. She’d needed it more than she realized. Another outfit went flying across the room as it met her disapproval. What to wear now that the evening was setting in?
It was mostly clear earlier, but then low clouds and fog rolled in along with a damp chill. Felicity pulled a blue and white cotton sundress from her suitcase and held it up in front of the mirror. It had thin straps, but if she wore a white sweater with it then it would work. It was the most date-like outfit she’d packed.
“That’ll do,” she murmured to herself.
She laid it out on the bed and headed for the shower. She’d been side-tracked by email and replying to blog comments after chatting up Cyn earlier. The warm water slid over her body, washing away the evidence of her twisting the sheets with Niall. She couldn’t help thinking about Cyn’s suggestion that she really liked Niall more than she wanted to let on. It took her a long time to trust people and let them in. After being burned so badly by her last relationship, she’d been unwilling to venture down that road ever again…let alone quite so soon.
How would a relationship with Niall even work? She guessed it wasn’t entirely out of the question—her job could be done from anywhere. But she liked London. She had a flat there that finally felt like home. She had a job that she loved, and she’d never give up travelling. Investigating the supernatural fascinated her. Over the past few months, she’d grown comfortable being alone—doing what she wanted, when she wanted—and Felicity wasn’t ready to give that up either. Her life was simple. Uncomplicated.
Her complacency warred with the part of her that had never felt more alive. For the first time, she was truly conscious of a man and felt power in her own sexuality. She slid the soapy washcloth across her heated skin. Even now, it tingled with awareness.
It didn’t help that his flirtatious talk and hot Irish accent were flustering. Not to mention that she felt connected to him by their common background: she’d lost her parents, and his mother had died. He’d been more open with her in the short time she’d know him than most of the men she’d dated. Granted, that wasn’t many, but it took her time to get to know someone. Giddy excitement surged through her every time they were together. Despite her nervousness, she had the strange feeling that they were supposed to meet, or that she’d known him in another lifetime.
Mate.
The thought that drifted through her mind felt right, even if it didn’t make any bloody sense. She should be focussed on finding out whether this púca haunting was a hoax. Damn if she hadn’t turned into a hormone-driven teenager over this man. Get a grip. It’s only sex.
She sighed as the water rinsed away the suds. No matter how much she tried to convince herself it didn’t matter and label this as a fun holiday diversion, she couldn’t help wishing it could be more than that.
Felicity pulled back the shower curtain, grabbed a towel from the rack, and dried off. In the bedroom she slipped on her sexiest underwear this time, and a bra, before pulling the sundress over her head. Rooting through her toiletries bag, she found an elastic band and pulled her hair into a loose ponytail. She applied light make-up: eyeliner, mascara, and a shimmering lip gloss. She grabbed her purse and headed out of Pier House to meet Niall at Tí Joe Watty’s, hoping the short walk would clear her head.
* * *
Niall’s stallion stood at attention. He drank in Felicity’s appearance as she entered the pub. Her hair was pulled up, revealing high cheekbones and a strong jawline. The dress she wore hugged her generous hips, which swayed as she made her way to the table where he sat. He stood and pulled out a chair for her, another one of the helpful tips Tomas had shared with him about proper ‘dating’ etiquette. She smiled shyly as she took a seat.
“You look beautiful, love.”
Felicity blushed as she removed her sweater, draping it across the back of her chair. It showed off her creamy shoulders, and the low neckline of her dress emphasized her large breasts. She turned several heads, and Niall couldn’t help the surge of jealousy at the attentive looks men gave her. His stallion didn’t like it either.
She belongs to us. Make her our mate. He agreed with the demanding beast.
“Thank you. You’re very…sweet for saying so.”
Could she not see how beautiful and curvaceous she was?
“Are you hungry?”
“Famished.”
“Aye, I can’t imagine what worked up such an appetite,” he teased.
Her blush spread from her face to her chest, drawing his stallion’s attention to her cleavage. Sometimes his beast couldn’t help himself. She wiggled in her seat, sitting up straighter. “Yes, well… I suppose I could eat a little something.”
Niall grinned. “Nonsense. I like a woman with a healthy appetite, and besides I kept you occupied during lunch.”
“Do you enjoy making me blush?”
“It’s actually quite cute.”
“I’m not good at this. It’s been a long time since I’ve…” she trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
Niall searched her eyes. “If it makes you feel better, this is uncharted territory for me too.”
“Really?”
“Aye, being on a date with a beautiful lass like you isn’t something I usually do.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Why?”
Felicity’s cheeks turned a pretty pink again as she paused. “Well you’re very…attractive. I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of women.”
“But normally I don’t date them.”
A waitress brought menus over to their table, breaking their intense eye contact. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Tom Crean Irish Lager,” Niall said.
“And you, miss?”
“Water.”
She left their table to fill their drink orders.
“So what do you do with them, then?” Felicity asked.
Niall’s eyebrows rose.
“The women you don’t date,” she clarified.
Niall shrugged. “I keep them occupied.”
Chapter 14
As they ate their meals, Felicity listened to Niall talk about his sisters, his father, and how important family was to him. She found it difficult not to fall in love. Although, his father sounded stern and a bit controlling. But after her parents died, she’d longed for family. She was lucky to have such devoted friends as Nathan and Cyn. She talked about university, Cyn, and her job at Everyday Supernatural, which he seemed fascinated about, rather than being sceptical or snide when she explained what her job entailed in more detail. Of course, she was always open with Cyn, who’d never judged her for her odd line of work, but she usually gave vague responses to anyone else when it came to her job.
Yes, I write about ghosts, the Loch Ness Monster, and UFO sightings. Pleased to meet you. I’m really not a nutter.
Felicity sipped her drink as she watched the band play Irish music.
Niall grabbed her hand. “Come on. Dance with me.”
She didn’t dance, let alone do whatever it was they were doing. She tried to tug her hand away, but Niall wouldn’t let go. “I can’t. I don’t know how to dance like that.”
His amber eyes glinted as he smiled. “It’s a céilí dance…just follow me.”
She hesitated, but let him lead her onto the dance floor. They joined, and quickly she found herself smiling up at him. Niall grabbed her arms in a hold that was unfamiliar to her and spun her in a circle. Her hair flew as he swung her across the floor, and she laughed louder than she ever had. Felicity was always self-conscious when it came to dancing.
“This is fun,” she said
breathlessly.
“You sound surprised.”
Felicity smiled. “Not when I’m with you.”
“There’s probably something I should tell you, love.”
“What?”
“Maybe it’s better if I show you instead.”
Her smile faded. Crap. Crap. No. Crap. She didn’t know why, but she imagined whatever he had to tell her couldn’t be good. It never was. Starting out a conversation with something like that had always led to an admission she didn’t want to hear.
“You’re not married, are you?”
He grinned. “Married? No, definitely not.”
“All right.”
“Will you walk with me?”
Felicity nodded. Curiosity got the better of her, despite the reservations swirling through her mind. It’d be best to know about any skeletons in his closet now. Besides, she was going back to London once she’d finished her investigation. She had a story to write. The fact-finding part of her took over as he led her toward the bar to pay their tab. Before they got there, the construction worker she’d seen earlier talking to Mr. Archer came through the door, his head gushing blood. The music stopped and everyone in the pub stared at the bleeding man staggering into Tí Joe Watty’s.
“We are haunted. We’re plagued by the púca,” he shouted hysterically.
People began to whisper, and a few even made hurried good-byes. With superstition running amok, they probably wanted to head home before it got too dark. No one questioned him, but she fully intended to get his story. The full story, which her gut told her was highly suspect. She’d seen this a million times before when people tried to fake the supernatural. There was always a reason. So Felicity went to confront him. She’d get to the bottom of this. There had to be a reasonable explanation for the gruesome cut on his forehead, which was dripping blood into his eye.
“What happened?”
The man glanced sideways and slumped into an empty chair. “I was working on the construction site when a púca charged me. And then it threatened me.”
“It could have been a horse,” Felicity said.
“Horses don’t talk,” Niall said, dryly. He’d followed her across the bar.
“What did it say?” Felicity asked, grabbing a notepad from her purse to jot down notes.
The man grabbed a napkin from the table and dabbed at his wound. “I…don’t remember exactly, but he threatened me, charged, then I stumbled to the side and hit my head on a rock.”
“A púca charged you?” Niall asked incredulously.
Felicity didn’t believe his story either, not for one minute. His shifty eyes and something about the way he told the story validated her belief that he was hiding something.
“Aye, a púca charged me. There was nothing I could do.”
She and Niall eyed the man, and she could almost tell Niall was thinking the same thing.
“And you don’t remember its threat?” Felicity asked.
The man looked like he was thinking of an answer, but he didn’t respond right away.
Too long. You should know.
“He said something about building on sacred land. Aye, that was what he said to me.”
“How do you know the púca was a he?” Niall asked.
Good question. That was exactly what she’d been about to say—they were almost in sync with their interrogation. It was bloody scary, but in a good way.
“Right…how do you know? I didn’t realize you were a púca expert.”
The man shifted from foot to foot and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Aye, everyone knows the púca are stallions that pillage the village at night.”
Niall snorted. “Lad, you’ve got some sense of humor.”
“And what did the púca look like?” Felicity asked.
“It was a stallion—black as midnight…”
He’d taken a step back when he answered, and she certainly didn’t believe he was telling the truth. In her line of work, she knew how to detect a lie when she bloody well saw one.
“Right,” Niall said, bumping the man as he made his way toward the door.
“Well, if you remember anything else, don’t hesitate to stop by Pier House and ask for Felicity Forrest.”
She doubted he’d do it, but she figured she might as well give him her standard response for supernatural witnesses, despite the fact she figured he’d probably manufactured the whole thing. Why would the construction worker choose the pub for his announcement? The island wasn’t big, but the site was a decent walk from there and if she’d been attacked and was bleeding the first thing would be getting cleaned up. Not walking half-way across the bloody island for a beer. She followed Niall through the pub door, and they spilled into the chilly evening air. She turned to him with a wary smile. She’d almost had enough surprises for one night.
“So what do you want to show me?”
Chapter 15
Felicity soon realized where they were headed. Niall took her hand as they walked toward the stone cottage. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Bloody hell, she hoped whatever it was wouldn’t be a deal-breaker. Felicity wanted to spend as much time as she could with him while she was on the island.
They walked up the stone path and Niall opened the door to the cottage. Felicity entered behind him, feeling giddy and more than a little nervous. She tugged her sweater around her sundress as she stood in the foyer next to him—the cool evening air seeped into her pores. The driftwood mirror reflected her shivering image. For a moment it almost appeared to ripple like water, but she’d never had great eyesight, especially at night, and when she looked again its surface appeared solid.
“What do you want to show me?”
He searched her eyes and gently pulled her toward him. “What I’m about to tell you could change everything between us, but I truly hope it doesn’t, love. I know you well enough to see you have an open mind…” Niall brushed a hair away from her face. “…so maybe you’ll keep an open heart.”
She could hear it hammering against her chest.
“I hope it doesn’t either.” And she prayed what he was about to tell her didn’t mean she would lose him. Mate. The word rang through her mind inexplicably, but it made sense on a primal level that connected her to Niall.
“Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Do you trust me?”
Felicity paused. For the first time, she realized that she truly did. Maybe not completely, because she never trusted anyone not to break her beyond belief. Something told her this had to be about him, his family, or maybe even his past. She could handle that.
“Yes, I trust you. Whatever it is it can’t be that bad, right?” she asked rhetorically, trying to cover the nervous pitch to her voice.
“You still haven’t closed your eyes, love.”
“Sorry. Right.”
She closed her eyes, and when she did Niall took her wrist gently, his thumb pressed against her pulse point. He stroked the thin skin there, thrumming with her heartbeat. Images flitted through her mind more vividly and rapidly than she could have imagined. The memory of the night Niall walked her back to Pier House hit her like a freight train. He’d shifted into his stallion form, turning into a púca right before her eyes. She rode him through the night, through the town, across fields, until they came to a stone wall. It had been wildly erotic. And then he’d kissed her until she almost melted into the earth, but she hadn’t been ready to accept it. Was that his thought or hers? Regardless, he’d have been right about that night. He made her forget everything, and she’d left him standing naked in the field once he’d shifted back into his human form.
Her eyes popped open. Her breathing was quicker and heavier than before. “It’s you…”
Niall nodded calmly. “Aye, love.”
Her feet were stuck to the floor. “But you’re not the one who attacked Mr. Archer’s worker,” Felicity said slowly. It was more of a question, really.
“It wasn’t me. I swear it. W
e were awakened beyond the veil when it lifted prematurely. We pay little attention to the human world until Samhain. I’ve been sent here to discover why.”
Felicity didn’t say anything for a long time. She stared at her sandals instead. Bloody hell if this wasn’t one of the strangest cases she’d worked. Niall was supposed to be a diversion, not part of her investigation. “Why do you think you were awakened?”
“The people on the island used to believe in us. Now that they’ve stopped, the veil only lifts once a year. I think the increase in superstition and people believing we exist has awakened us before Samhain.”
“Because of the construction site?”
“I can’t say for certain, but I do know one thing…”
“What?”
“You can’t write the truth on your blog.”
Felicity crossed her arms. “Why on earth not?”
“Let me show you. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
She gulped, but didn’t have time to respond.
Niall turned toward the mirror, muttering, “Beannachtaí mo chara.” He paused. “Maelíosa…”
A beautiful young woman wearing a tunic appeared on the other side of the mirror, and the castle in the background of the photograph that had been taken loomed behind her.
“Felicity, this is my sister.”
“Pleased to meet you?” Felicity said.
Why does everything sound like a bloody question?
She was a professional and needed to work the case—get to the truth like she always did—and nothing could persuade her otherwise. Certainly not a handsome, smooth-talking Irishman.
Maelíosa smiled. “And you as well. I’m truly grateful my brother has found someone so bonny.”
“We’re…uhmm…we’re not—”