Pressure built behind her eyes, the sudden headache threatening to split her skull when the familiar heat spread along her back. The crushing pain eased to a dull ache as soon as her power found release, and she whistled her command to the dogs.
The pack yipped, chasing around them, before racing off.
The energy from the hounds flooded her system, giving her an extra boost.
Diana picked up Emilie and followed.
The horses kept pace in the distance, but she didn’t bother looking back. No need. Heat sizzled along her skin as Gabriel’s bold glances trailed over her from head to toe, his regard persistent and unbending. The attention flustered her.
To keep her mind from wandering to where it shouldn’t—to him—she focused on assessing the damage to her body. As long as she didn’t use her gift for a few hours, she would recover by morning. Every time she used her gift, her tolerance grew, but the side-effects worsened.
One day, her gift would ultimately kill her.
But not today.
Pink tinged the horizon as the sun began its ascent, and she surveyed her surroundings in case she needed a quick escape. The vision in her dream had warned her Williams was near. Even while her body craved a few hour of rest, she couldn’t risk lingering.
The hounds dodged the trees and undergrowth, circling around them, nipping and playing with each other. As they emerged from the tangle of trees, a vast expanse of green lawn lay stretched out before them. A large mansion lit up the horizon like a beacon.
The sheer size gave her pause, nearly making her turn and head in the opposite direction. Only the precious weight in her arms stopped her. “You’re almost home.”
She waved Wolf away, and he easily blended in with the other dogs. The last thing she needed was for him to cause some mischief if left on his own. Diana set Emilie on the ground, and they walked the remaining distance together.
“Don’t leave.” She threw herself at Diana and wrapped her arms around her legs, almost tripping her.
Guilt nipped at Diana’s heels at the little girl’s desperate plea.
“Muirneach, your father…loves you.” She hesitated for a second, remembering his cold reception to his own daughter.
“He’s mad at me. Again.” She gave a long-suffering sigh, as if accepting her fate.
The little minx didn’t seem very troubled about her father’s anger, and Diana swallowed back a snort. There was no doubt in her mind that Emilie knew exactly what set her father off, and she did it often to gain his attention.
Diana also remembered his frantic search. “He was worried about you. He’s been searching for you all night.”
Emilie quieted, uncertainty swimming in her eyes. “Really?”
The awed whisper clutched at emotions Diana had worked hard to bury the past few months. “Yes.”
The ancient, intricately carved front door to the large manor house opened before they could knock. As if she feared Diana would run, Emilie tightened her hold, leaving her no choice but enter into the beast’s den.
The butler stood rigid next to the entrance, as uncompromising as his master…until the sight of Emilie stole some of the starch out of his spine. Even at this early hour, not a stitch of clothing was out of order, not a hair out of place. His expression gave nothing away as he appraised her. He had the assessing look of a fighter, trained to see below the surface, which could be dangerous to someone who had too many secrets.
Ignoring her instinct to run, she took courage at his slight nod of approval, his green eyes warming marginally in welcome. While the man might have been lean, she had no doubt he knew how to toss a person out the door without breaking a sweat…or chase her down and drag her back if she tried to leave.
The house was cast in shadows, the darkness radiating a haunted atmosphere—as if inhabited by memories of people long dead.
Shaking off her imagination, she took in everything around her, not needing more light to know that she was surrounded by wealth. Everything was shiny and immaculate and intimidating as hell.
Her worn and dirty clothes shouted that she didn’t belong.
A resounding thud echoed in the hall as the door slammed shut behind her like a prison gate closing. Diana whirled to find the lord of the manor standing in the archway, almost as if he was blocking the exit. A slow, self-satisfied smile spread across his face, and she stepped back reflexively.
She’d been so dazzled by her surroundings that she allowed him to sneak up behind her.
A stupid, costly mistake.
Now she was well and truly trapped.
But the tingling along her spine had nothing to do with her power, and she detested the excitement that simmered in her veins.
He was dangerous in a new and different way from anyone else she’d ever encountered.
Men didn’t normally intimidate her, since she was more than capable of holding her own. But even with the comforting weight of her bow slung over her shoulder, she felt defenseless in front of this man. Something about him sent her senses reeling, left her scrambling for her usual confidence.
“Emilie, go to bed. I want to speak to…”
“Diana, papa.”
“Diana,” he repeated obediently, and she flushed at the husky sound of her name on his lips.
She barely resisted the urge to squirm.
Against her better judgment, she was charmed by the way he obeyed his daughter. It made him appear less of an ass, but the suspicion that she’d been scammed by the both of them increased.
“I’m Gabriel Moran, Viscount Mendenhall. Welcome to my home.”
If he was waiting for her to be impressed, he would wait go brách na breithe or as his people would say—until hell froze over. If anything, the introduction heightened the urge to run as far and as fast as she could.
She bobbed a barely polite curtsey. “Since I have fulfilled my duty, I should be going.”
She waited for him to move away from the door, but the big lug stood stubbornly in her way.
Emilie put her hands on her hips and glared up at her father as if Diana had never spoken. “But I want her to tuck me in first.”
She stuck out her bottom lip, but ruined the effect by peering up at him through her lashes to gauge whether her ploy had worked. “You always say ladies first,” she presented her argument like a winning card.
Mendenhall hesitated, then succumbed to her obvious antics. “Very well. I will wait for Miss Diana in the study.”
The heat in his eyes made his words sound like an assignation. The thought of being alone with him sent her pulse racing, made it hard to remember why she mustn’t linger.
Emilie tugged on her hand, doing her best to haul Diana toward the stairs. Even if she wanted to bolt, she couldn’t bring herself to break the little girl’s heart. Grateful for the reprieve and time to shore up her walls, Diana allowed Emilie to lead her away. If she were smart, she would put the child to bed, then find another exit and leave.
She glanced at him over her shoulder. He stood unmoving, his arms crossed, legs splayed, the imposing master of all he surveyed.
Her traitorous heart skipped a beat.
He didn’t shy away from her unladylike actions.
He wouldn’t back down from a challenge.
However, people like him weren’t supposed to notice people like her.
Not if she could help it.
Something in her expression must have signaled her intentions to sneak away. Mendenhall narrowed his eyes, and her stomach fluttered to have the full attention of those dark blue eyes focused solely on her. “I’ll have Milles escort you upstairs…and show you to the study when you’re done.”
Diana understood an order when she heard one. She had the sinking feeling he’d allowed her to put Emilie to bed only to get the child out of the way.
Much to her consternation, the aching loneliness she carried around with her eased at the thought of seeing him one more time.
Earlier in the night, surrounded
by darkness, Gabriel had gained only a sketchy impression of the woman who saved the only thing that mattered to him.
His daughter.
Then he walked into the hall and saw her.
Diana.
Something wrenched in his chest at the rightness of seeing Emilie and this woman together.
His little girl had a talent for bamboozling; even the most resistant eventually succumbed.
Diana hadn’t stood a chance.
The ennui that had plagued him the last few months vanished the moment he walked through the door and saw her.
She practically glowed under the moonlight, standing tall and proud like a faerie queen. He couldn’t pry his boots from the floor while he fought to control his arousal. It was a novelty not to have to strain his neck or hunch his shoulders to look at a woman.
She had delicate features, her skin as pale as porcelain, and his fingers twitched to brush her cheek to see if she was real. Her nose was slightly turned up at the end, her full lips invited kisses, and his cock hardened further. She had straight hair that fell to her lower back like a waterfall of silk, such a pale blond it shimmered in the light, begging for his touch.
Thick, dark lashes drew his attention to her eyes. The blue was so pale they appeared nearly colorless, the power of them slamming into him and arresting his breath. They should be cold and cutting, but heat lurked in their depths, branding him with one look. He lingered in the hall as if in a trance, watching her graceful journey up the stairs, enchanted by the seductive sway of her hips.
The dress she wore was slim-fitting with no ridiculous bustles or hoops to hide her true shape. Though not fashionable, the dress was perfectly respectable…until she moved, revealing large slits up both sides that stopped mid-thigh. Beneath, he saw not the normal petticoats, but a tight pair of breeches that left nothing to the imagination…and the longest legs he’d ever beheld.
Her dress, combined with the bow and quiver strapped to her back, completed the overall image of a real-life Amazon.
Proud.
Fierce.
Gorgeous.
His eyes burned, and he realized that he hadn’t blinked for a full minute, not wanting to miss even a second.
He had behaved shamefully earlier. At the very least, he owed Diana an apology. Emilie was his life. He didn’t know what he would have done if anything had happened to her.
That did not excuse the fact that he had barged into her cottage and as good as assaulted her.
He entered his study, headed straight for the decanter of whisky, and poured himself a generous amount.
With the image of Diana lingering in his mind, he downed the whisky in one swallow, welcoming the burn after the harrowing day. His fingers still shook when he thought about Emilie’s disappearance. It had taken everything inside him not to dismount and sweep the little hellion up in his arms, but he couldn’t let her know how worried he had been, or he wouldn’t have been able to sustain his anger.
If she thought he was mad, she wouldn’t do it again.
Then there was the woman.
Everything about Diana captured his attention, easily breaching the walls of his self-imposed exile.
He’d been fooled by a beautiful woman before. His wife had seen him as a title, not a man, and did everything in her power to make his life a living hell when he wouldn’t bend to her will.
She saw the birth of their child as fulfilling a duty, and she adamantly refused to allow him anywhere near her again. Much to his shame, he breathed a sigh of relief when she’d died in an accident caused by her own self-indulgent foolishness.
He needed an heir, but not at the cost of being trapped in another loveless marriage. He’d learned that lesson the first time. Not that it mattered, since most upper crust women did not find his size attractive. He towered over them. They were so dainty he had no doubt that one touch would break them…or send them screaming from the room. Most women went out of their way to avoid him, which rarely troubled him.
Memories of his wife should have doused his lust, yet when he recalled the image of Diana standing proud and protective in front of his daughter, thoughts of his late wife, and how foolish it would be to get involved with another woman, dissipated like smoke.
He tugged at his jacket, fussing with his shirt, wishing to look presentable as possible. Unable to remain still, he straightened his already-neat desk, organizing the top until everything was settled in its place. The habit soothed his nerves and kept his thoughts from wandering.
The clock’s pendulum swung, ticking off the seconds. With each stroke, his impatience grew. Before very long, he stood and paced. He should be exhausted, but the thought of seeing the mysterious Diana again sent his blood pounding. When the clock chimed again, his frown grew more pronounced.
He wouldn’t put it past her to slip by Milles and sneak out of the house. A rush of panic flooded him, and he practically vaulted over the desk in his haste to prevent her departure.
The door cracked open, and he skidded to a halt, flushing to be caught in the middle of such an undignified action, but the awkwardness faded with the need to see if she was as impossibly beautiful as he remembered.
The answer was a resounding yes.
After years of abstinence, lust roared back to life with a vengeance.
He should be thrilled to feel desire again, but those same emotions also left him vulnerable.
He refused to dance to a woman’s tune and be played the fool again.
There was only one answer…prove she was like all the rest. With that plan in place, his composure returned. When Diana halted abruptly in the doorway, he smoothed away his frown, mentally cursing himself for scaring her away.
The two women couldn’t have been more different.
Meredith had been petite and lush and always beautifully dressed, spoiled by her family and suitors. She would never have lifted a dainty finger to help others. This woman’s head reached his chin, her form lithe, her clothes completely unflattering, hiding more than showing off her figure. She didn’t flinch away from his anger, or scurry away from his size like a timid mouse.
Something inside him began to unwind. Despite his resolve to the contrary, she made him want to claim her in the most primitive way possible, which should be pure idiocy, but everything in him protested at the thought of her leaving before he learned everything he could about her. Once he discovered she was like all the other women, he could put this nonsense behind him and get on with his life.
He released his breath and mustered his most charming smile. “Please, come and sit.”
He gestured to indicate the love seat, aching to steal a touch or catch the scent of her skin.
“Thank you, no. I must be going.”
His jaw dropped when she turned on her heel and left. It took him a full second to gather his wits and hurry after her, cursing when his knee slammed in the corner of a chair in his rush. She had just reached the front door when he reached over her shoulder and held it shut.
“What’s the rush?” He blinked when he realized he was grinning, the expression a bit uncomfortable from disuse, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so alive.
Chapter 3
Diana stood staring at the door, or more precisely, the large, muscular hand blocking her only means of escape. The smell of male curled around her. She inhaled deeply, already able to recognize Gabriel’s masculine scent, and her treacherous heart fluttered at the thought of turning around and facing him.
While she’d been putting Emilie to bed, she decided she’d imagined their attraction, blown it out of proportion, what with the excitement of the hunt and the threat of Williams looming over her.
But, no.
It hadn’t been exaggerated in the least.
If anything, the infuriating man was even more attractive, drat him.
Her hand dropped to her waist, her fingers twitching for the comfort of her knife. She was exhausted from the late night and the stress of using her gift.
It caused her to make mistakes.
Mistakes a man like Mendenhall pounced on.
“Let’s move to the study and make ourselves more comfortable while we talk.”
Diana no longer cared if it was obvious she was hiding something. Once she reached her cottage, it would take her less than a minute to gather her meager belongings and disappear.
She should just leave, but an irresistible curiosity to discover more about the big man at her back had her hesitating. It had been months since she’d had a normal conversation with anyone.
She’d been on the verge of foolishly talking herself into staying when she felt the bow and quiver being lifted from her shoulder.
Instinct took over.
Diana whirled and charged, ready to take back her possessions.
Only to end up colliding with his chest.
His very large, very muscular chest.
His clothes were of fine quality, but the day’s events left him rumpled, his shirt limp and practically molded to his body, instead of starched and pristine white.
Her ire and thoughts of retrieving her bow were suddenly forgotten as her fingers curled against the urge to touch and explore all that tempting flesh.
She was scarcely aware that he froze, too distracted by her discovery to even register his sudden tension.
Gabriel had grabbed the bow, hoping to convince her to remain. The last thing he expected was for her to leap into action. The feel of her lush curves pressed against him, even for a second, froze him to the spot, all thoughts forgotten when he tensed and waited for her to recoil…but she seemed utterly fascinated, studying the contours of his shirt, and his initial self-consciousness at his size eased.
Up close, she was even more stunning than he remembered.
He should be annoyed that his fascination showed no sign of abating. His plan to prove she was nothing special might not work, but he couldn’t seem to muster the nerve to care.
All he wanted was to close the distance separating them.
Have her brush her lovely body up against his again.
He felt no shame about using his size to block the exit to get what he wanted.
Druid Temptation (A Druid Quest Novel Book 2) Page 3