Romancing the Guardians Series: Part One (Romancing the Guardians Box Set Book 1)

by Lyn Horner

  Conn dragged his gaze up to hers, coughed and gestured toward the stairs. “You want to head down? I made coffee.”

  “Y-yes. Coffee sounds wonderful.” Lara found nothing more to say as he helped her descend the stairs, too conscious of his body pressed against her side and his supportive arm around her to think, much less speak.

  The tension between them eased as they prepared breakfast. Conn had stopped at a country store the previous day, leaving Lara asleep in the truck while he picked up bread, milk, eggs and some other supplies, enough to last a few days at least.

  They were cleaning up after the meal when he asked, “How’d you like to go for a ride on my bike?”

  Lara looked up from wiping off the countertop. She hesitated for a moment, thinking of the strange, mournful cry they’d heard the day before. Had it really come from the lodge’s groundskeeper? Remembering the eerie sound gave her goose bumps, but she couldn’t resist a chance to ride a motorcycle with Conn again.

  “Yes, I’d love to,” she replied. He was turning her into a biker chick, she thought with a tiny grin.

  A half hour later, after unloading the Harley from his truck, he helped her mount the powerful machine. The warm, humid morning promised a hot afternoon and since traffic should be light, Conn had decreed they could go without heavy protective clothing. Other than their helmets, of course.

  Just as they pulled out onto the blacktopped road a red pickup came barreling toward them from the opposite direction. The truck wove crazily from side to side. Alarmed, Lara tightened her grip on Conn’s waist. Acting fast, he braked and drove onto the gravel shoulder just in time. The truck streaked past within inches of them.

  “Hey, suckers, this is our road! Keep outta the way,” the driver shouted out his window. His three cronies laughed uproariously.

  Lara twisted to watch the vehicle speed away, still zigzagging erratically. She wasn’t conscious of clutching a fistful of Conn’s shirt until he reached back to pat her hand and uncurl her fingers. Swiveling part way around on his seat, he captured her gaze.

  “It’s all right. They’re just a bunch of drunken idiots.” He waited for her uncertain nod of agreement then rolled back onto the road.

  It took Lara a minute to relax, but as the wind caressed her face, she regained the glorious sense of freedom she’d known during their rides in Ireland. She was glad Conn had suggested the outing.

  “Looks like a pretty bad storm blew through here recently,” he shouted some time later above the rumble of the motorcycle, pointing at several broken and uprooted trees.

  “Looks like,” she repeated distractedly, by then more interested in him than the woodland scenery. With the iron beast vibrating between her thighs, she’d become caught up in the warmth of Conn’s body beneath her clinging hands, in his clean masculine scent overlaid by the smell of evergreens, and in watching the play of ropey muscles under his snug black t-shirt. Her hands itched to slip beneath the fabric and touch his bare skin.

  “You want to take a break, stop for a while?” he asked, drawing her out of her captivated state.

  “I-I guess,” she stammered, face catching fire with her lusty thoughts. “I mean yes, I’d like that.”

  “There’s a gap up ahead.” He pointed to a curve in the road where the forest parted for a short distance. “We’ll stop there.” He slowed and pulled onto the shoulder as they neared the spot. “Huh. It’s a trail. I wonder if it leads to somebody’s cabin. Hang on and we’ll find out.”

  “Are you sure we should?” Lara questioned as he maneuvered his Harley onto the grassy path. “If this is private property, we shouldn’t trespass.”

  “You afraid of getting shot?” he teased.

  Not amused, she poked him in the ribs. “It crossed my mind. For sure, I’d rather not face an angry property owner.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m your bodyguard, remember? I’ll protect you.”

  She should have been reassured. He’d protected her at the risk of his life back in County Kerry, quite possibly saving her life and helping her keep the ancient scroll safe, all without knowing what she was guarding. But darn it, that chilling cry they’d heard yesterday had freaked her out. Maybe it had come from the groundskeeper as Conn said, maybe it hadn’t. Either way, she wanted no part of whoever or whatever had made that awful sound. Up to now her sixth sense had not warned of danger, but as they rode deeper into the woods she glanced from side to side, watching for any movement.

  The bumpy path slanted upward for a short way then leveled out. They rounded a shallow bend and came to a clearing where a small building stood high off the ground, supported by a framework of tall posts and cross braces.

  “It’s a lookout station,” Conn said. “Forest rangers use ʼem to spot fires. We’re on public land, so you can quit worrying.”

  Only mildly relieved, Lara continued to look carefully around while he shut off the motorcycle and lowered the kickstand. Nothing moved among the trees and underbrush that ringed the clearing.

  “Come stretch your legs,” Conn coaxed with a smile, extending his hand. She accepted his help dismounting and gripped his arm, wishing her cane was the folding kind so they could have brought it along. As it was, she leaned heavily upon him and took cautious steps as he steered her slowly around the small sunny glade.

  “My leg is aching a bit,” she said after they’d circled the area. “Can we sit for a few minutes?”

  “Sure. How about in the shade of that big loblolly?” He pointed to a tall pine tree a few feet from where they stood.

  She nodded, thinking shade would be welcome. The day was growing hot and without the wind cooling her as they rode, the heavy air clung to her like a wet veil

  Conn eased her to the ground with the tree trunk at her back and sat down cross-legged beside her. Leaning on one arm, he plucked a blade of grass and chewed on it. “Mighty peaceful here,” he drawled.

  “Yes, it is.” Privately, she thought it too quiet. Unable to shake her jitters, she stared at the trees fencing them in like guards holding them prisoner.

  “So, who was the guy you were involved with during college?” Conn asked, jolting her out of her wary imaginings.

  “I told you before I don’t want to talk about it,” she snapped.

  He pinned her with his steely gaze. “Why? What did he do to you, Lara?”

  She glared at him for a moment then broke eye contact. Stubborn man! He’d keep at her until he dragged the whole sordid story out of her. She might as well tell him now and get it over with. Sighing, she stared at the trees across the clearing.

  “His name was Alec Masterson. He was a teaching assistant for my freshman calculus class.” She made a face. “Math has never been my long suit. When I failed the first test, he offered to tutor me, for free. He was a good teacher. With his help, I pulled a B in the class, and we became lovers. I moved out of the dorm and into his apartment at the end of my freshman year. We lived together for almost two years.”

  Lara’s throat tightened and her eyes stung with unwanted tears. She’d known this would hurt to talk about but hadn’t expected to cry. Blinking fast, she tipped her head down and away from Conn, not wanting him to see her humiliation, her weakness. She was too slow. He scooted close and caught a tear with the tip of his finger as it slid down her cheek.

  “Ah, honey, what happened? I already want to kill the bastard, so you might as well tell me.” His husky tone conveyed sympathy. Or maybe it was anger.

  She bit down hard on her bottom lip and forced out, “He took another stupid young coed home with him one day. I walked in and found them in bed, in our bed.”

  “The damn no-good sidewinder!” Conn burst out.

  Laugher bubbled up from her throat. “That’s a good description.”

  His lips twitched. “Yeah, well, I call ʼem like I see ʼem.”

  A weight lifted from her mind. She’d never told anyone, not even Uncle Malcolm, the real reason for her breakup with Alec. It felt
good to tell the truth for once, especially to Conn.

  “You left him, I hope?”

  “Oh yes. I quit school and moved home right after that.”

  Conn scowled at her. “You let him drive you off?”

  “Not really.” She shrugged. “It seemed like it at the time, but my heart was never in my studies. I wanted to be home in Shreveport.”

  “Starting a restaurant?” he asked with a grin.

  Lara smiled wryly. “No, I’d given up on that idea. By then, I wanted to assist my uncle with his work.”

  “What work was that?”

  “He was a historian. He taught ancient history at a small private college and wrote several books about ancient cultures and languages. His main focus was on the Celtic realms of old, particularly in Ireland.” She didn’t mention why she and Malcolm were so intensely interested in the ancients.

  “Is that why you decided to hide out in Ireland after he was killed?”

  “I suppose so. I’d always wanted to see the land of my ancestors.” She bent her head, picking at a crease in her pant leg. “Of course, I hoped to see it with my uncle,” she added hoarsely.

  “Come here,” Conn murmured. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he drew her into his embrace and she laid her head against his chest. Taking comfort from his strength and the calm, steady beat of his heart under her ear seemed so natural, so right. He kissed the top of her head and gently rubbed her back. “Maybe he did see it with you.”

  Lara caught her breath. His consoling words touched her deeply. She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “You are a good man, Connor O’Shea,” she whispered.

  He smiled crookedly and shook his head. “Dev would disagree.”

  “I don’t care. He’d be wrong.”

  “You’re sure of that, are you?” He laughed, softening his rugged features.

  “I am, and I’ll stand my ground on it,” she said stoutly, drawing playful patterns on the front of his t-shirt with her pointer finger. Her teasing touch caused a fascinating reaction. His nostrils flared and the silvery irises of his eyes dilated.

  “Lara,” he whispered. Catching hold of her wrist, he pressed her hand flat to his chest, bent and captured her lips. She opened her mouth without a second’s thought and his tongue dove in, tangling with hers, shooting tendrils of fire to every corner of her being. She moaned and arched into him, arms circling him, feeling his muscles bunch and ripple as he ran his hands down her back. They cupped her bottom and lifted, setting her astride his hips. He wanted her, wanted her badly, judging by the bulge in his jeans. It should have excited her even more; instead, it brought old hurt and mistrust flooding back.

  “Stop!” she cried, wrenching her lips from his.

  “What? Why?” he blurted, eyes clouded with desire.

  “I can’t, I just can’t!” She pushed at his shoulders and he let her go. Breathing hard, she scrambled off his lap and put space between them. “I’m sorry,” she said, hugging her knees, unable to look at him.

  For a long moment, she heard only his harsh breathing and sounds of the forest – bird calls, the buzz of insects, the soft rustle of leaves stirred by a listless breeze. Then Conn cleared his throat.

  “It’s because of that jerk, Alec what’s-his-name, right? Are you going to let the bastard ruin the rest of your life? Why give him that much power?”

  “Do you think I want to?” she shot back, glaring at him. “I know it’s stupid, all right? But I haven’t dared trust any man since him, and now, like this …” She flipped a hand at her scarred cheek. “… how am I supposed to believe you want me for me and not merely for a one night, excuse me, one day stand with a sideshow freak?” She turned away, boiling with a witch’s brew of anger, resentment and pain.

  “Christ! A minute ago you called me a good man,” he gritted. “Now I know what you really think of me.”

  Lara caught her breath, realizing she’d lost control and offended him. Her anger drained away as swiftly as it had burst forth. “Conn, I didn’t mean to insult you. I just –”

  “Save it. You said exactly what you mean,” he barked, voice as hard as nails. “Let’s go.” Pushing to his feet, he extended his hand, not bothering to look down at her.

  She accepted his grudging help, wishing she could take back her hurtful words. Then again, maybe it was all for the best. Now he would stop expecting something from her that she simply couldn’t give.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Conn clamped down on his temper and said nothing during their ride back to the lodge. It was insulting enough knowing Lara put him in the same class as the louse who’d cheated on her, but what really infuriated him was her suspicion that he took perverse pleasure from her scarred cheek. How could she think such a thing? He ought to pack up and leave, but he couldn’t, dammit! She depended on him to keep her safe.

  Face it man, you care about the woman too much. No way you’ll run out on her.

  If she would only give him a chance, he’d prove her fear of trusting him was unfounded. Couldn’t she see such blind fear crippled her more than the accident that had shattered her leg and gashed her cheek? Would she ever recover from her emotional wounds? He didn’t know, but he was tired of being pushed away every time he tried to break through the wall she’d built around herself. Much as it pained him, from now on he would do his job and nothing more.

  Conn stuck to his decision over the next two days. Except for helping Lara up and down the stairs, a torture every time he touched her, he avoided her as much as possible. Intent on protecting her regardless of how matters stood between them, he made sure the lodge’s motion detectors, outdoor lights and alarm system were in working order. In case the Hounds somehow tracked them down and tried to sneak up through the woods, he patrolled the border of the property several times a day as he’d done in Ireland.

  He also kept an eye on Lara – from a distance – during her short outdoor walks, obviously intended to strengthen her leg muscles. Otherwise, she spent most of her time reading the books Dev had given her, while he busied himself making small repairs around the place using tools he found in the boathouse, where a pontoon was docked. The company owners utilized the boat to take clients on excursions around the shallow lake. Conn’s boss had told him to feel free to use the pontoon while he was here, and he’d planned to do so with Lara. But he wasn’t about to spend hours confined on a boat deck with her now. Anyway, she’d probably refuse to go if he asked her.

  Tension hung like an invisible wall between them. Lara walked better every day, but she couldn’t stand being on her feet for very long. He let her do most of the cooking, since she’d claimed to enjoy it, but he noticed she took frequent breaks to rest her leg. Catching her grimace of pain and her pronounced limp as she fixed breakfast the second morning after their ill-fated motorcycle ride, Conn silently pitched in to help. She gave him a sideways look, which he stubbornly ignored as he plopped slices of pork sausage in a skillet.

  That afternoon, he beat her into the kitchen and started cooking up a pot of chili for supper. As he worked, he noticed they were running low on several foods. The pantry was well stocked with staples and he’d picked up a few perishables at the store on the way here, but not enough.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll go buy some groceries,” he said curtly while Lara began setting two places at one end of the long pine table. “Anything you want me to get?” He didn’t offer to take her with him.

  “Some greens and tomatoes for a salad would be nice.” She glanced at him then concentrated on her task.

  “Anything else?”

  “No.”

  That was the extent of their conversation for the evening.

  *

  Around mid-morning the next day, Lara stood before the large picture window in the lodge’s cavernous great room and watched Conn drive off in his truck. He shouldn’t be gone more than an hour or so, he’d said as he strode out the door without sparing her a glance. She wished he’d invited her to go along but understood w
hy he hadn’t; she’d hurt him the other day with her rejection and the reason behind it, and he wasn’t about to forgive her.

  Hugging herself with one arm, she absently fingered her pendant and studied the sunlit grounds beyond the porch. A gray squirrel scampered across the lawn past the gravel driveway, carrying something in its mouth, an acorn perhaps, and disappeared into the screen of trees and underbrush beyond. What else lived in that deep green darkness, Lara wondered with a shiver of fear. She turned away from the peaceful yet unnerving view and looked around the room. The place was so big and empty and silent. She didn’t like being here alone. Feeling goose bumps pebble her skin, she rubbed her arms vigorously.

  “Oh, for goodness sake! Stop being such a fraidy cat,” she muttered, limping toward the kitchen, where the breakfast dishes awaited washing. “Conn will be back by lunchtime.”

  Only he wasn’t. Nor was he back by one or even two o’clock. He’d probably had a flat tire, Lara told herself, attempting to bury her anxiety in the pages of another mystery. By four, he still hadn’t returned and she had given up trying to read. To distract herself, and guessing Conn would be hungry when he finally got back, she prepared a casserole with left over chili and a box of macaroni and cheese from the pantry. While the dish baked, she prowled from room to room, cane tapping out a worried rhythm on the hardwood floors until her right leg ached so badly that she was forced to sit. Then she would stare out the front window, desperately hoping to see a dark blue pickup appear.

  A flat tire wouldn’t delay Conn this long, but engine trouble might. Maybe he’d called a service station to tow his truck somewhere for repairs and couldn’t let her know because he didn’t have the number for her burner phone. Not only that, the lodge’s landline was dead. She’d checked it several times, hoping to get a dial tone. Perhaps the storm that had uprooted those trees they’d passed the other day had also blown down phone lines.