by Donna Grant
“It does if I’m trying to save it.”
“Tell me what’s going on. Talk of Druids and teleportation. What the hell, Charon? You’re beginning to freak me out a little.”
When he didn’t answer, Phelan rolled his eyes and pushed away from the wall. He walked to the table and poured whisky into a glass.
“Druids are real,” Phelan said.
Laura frowned. “Yes, I’m sure they were. Once.”
“Nay, as in now,” Phelan insisted.
Charon sank onto the couch. “He’s right. They’re real. We know several.”
“You mean like the fanatics they show on the news sometimes, dancing naked during some old Celtic holiday?”
“Nay,” Charon said softly. “These are real Druids, Laura. They have magic, good magic. They’re called mies.”
She stared at him for several beats, unsure what to think. The fact that he believed every word was evident in his body language and his tone.
Then something struck her. “If there are good Druids, are you telling me there are evil ones?”
“Aye. They’re called droughs,” Phelan said.
Charon rubbed his hands slowly together, his brow furrowed deeply as he stared at the floor. “They give their blood and their souls to Satan, and in exchange they use black magic. They’re evil to the core. It was one of those who was behind your attack tonight.”
“Ben?” she asked.
Phelan gave a snort as he turned away.
“Nay,” Charon answered, and lifted his gaze to her. “Jason Wallace.”
Laura put a hand to her forehead as her mind began to spin. If it were anyone else but Charon, she would think it was all a jest. But she could see by the penetrating way his eyes held hers that it was far from a jest. “You both believe this?”
Phelan was standing in front of her so fast, she hadn’t seen him move. “Aye, we believe it because we live it every damn day.”
“Phelan,” Charon said sharply, a low growl coming from him.
Laura lifted her chin and stood her ground until Phelan turned away. The anger in his blue-gray depths frightened her much more than the truth she saw there.
“There are Druids,” she repeated, testing the words out on her tongue. She moved to the couch and sank down beside Charon. “If what you said earlier is true, then I’m just a pawn to Jason?”
“A pawn to get to me,” Charon confirmed. “I—”
“We,” Phelan corrected.
Charon flattened his lips as he glared at Phelan. “Fine. We riled Jason a few weeks ago.”
“His mansion was nearly destroyed,” Laura said, remembering hearing something about it on the news. Then the impact of his words hit her. She gaped at him. “You did that?”
Phelan smiled proudly but Charon couldn’t meet her gaze.
“You better believe we did,” Phelan said. “We’d have done more, but Ch—”
“Enough,” Charon interrupted. He raked a hand through his hair, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “She doesna need to know all of it.”
Laura watched Charon rub his chest again. She began to piece everything together then. She knew she didn’t have all the pieces, but it wasn’t hard to fit them together. “That’s the night I couldn’t get ahold of you. You came back the next day with your shirt torn and bloodied. Were you injured?”
Charon refused to answer her, so she looked to Phelan.
Phelan gave a small nod, a frown troubling his brow. “You’re rubbing your chest, Charon.”
Instantly Charon’s hand dropped.
“Does it still hurt?” Phelan pressed.
Charon was on his feet, his back to them both as he walked around the couch. “Drop it.”
“Nay,” Phelan bit out. “I willna. You said you were fine.”
“I’m alive.”
Laura watched the exchange intently. Charon didn’t want her to know what had happened that night two weeks ago, but it appeared he didn’t want Phelan to know the full extent of it either.
“Dammit, Charon!” Phelan exploded. “Sonya needs to know her healing magic didna take care of all of it. And the MacLeods need to know as well. Every Warrior needs to know.”
“What’s a warrior?” Laura asked.
“Nothing,” Charon said the same time Phelan turned his head to her and said, “Us.”
Laura looked down at her bare feet, watching her toes painted a bright coral dig into the rug. It was tearing her up to see Charon so out of his depth.
He’d been injured. That explained the shirt, him rubbing his chest, and why he’d taken off to the forest whenever he could.
The injury couldn’t have been that bad. Could it? They had mentioned Druids and someone named Sonya with healing magic. Maybe the wound had been as bad as she feared.
Just what had she found herself in the middle of?
Laura touched Charon’s shirt, which she still wore. He’d kept his secrets from her because it was a different world. A world of magic, with Druids apparently.
And warriors.
Charon was definitely a warrior. She also knew him to be honorable and decent. If he had attacked Jason Wallace, it was for good reason.
There was only one thing Laura could do, and that was trust Charon. She had put her trust in him the moment he served her ale that day two years ago. Why should she stop now?
She lifted her gaze to him. It made her bristle to have anyone—even the man she’d yearned for—tell her what to do. But she was a liability.
Ben had tried to kidnap her to get to Charon. The why of it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she remove herself from whatever game was being played so Charon could do whatever it was he needed to do.
“If I have to leave, Charon, then I will. But on my own terms.”
His shoulders dropped at her words, and it was then she realized how desperately he wanted her to go. The sting of it was softened only because she was beginning to suspect the danger surrounding Charon was great.
“You can never return,” Charon said as he faced her. “Change your name, your hair color … change everything. You have to begin a new life, one that doesna include Ferness or me.”
It felt as if someone reached into her chest, clamped a hand around her heart, and squeezed. She’d made a home, a life in the village. After all she’d been through with her family, she finally had a place and she wasn’t prepared to give it up. “Ferness is my home.”
“Wallace is coming. He’ll come for me again and again. And he’ll hurt those closest to me.”
“If he’s as powerful as you think, then he’ll find me wherever I go.”
Charon glanced at the floor. “No’ if you go to the MacLeods.”
She slapped her hands on the couch in frustration. “Who are these MacLeods?”
“People who can protect you,” Phelan said. “The Druids there shield the castle with magic so no one can see it. Their magic is extremely powerful.”
Laura looked at Charon, but once more he wouldn’t meet her gaze. She didn’t want to leave him, because she knew if she did, she’d never see him again. He’d erase himself from her life, from Ferness.
The sorrow that came sucked her under until she couldn’t get her bearings. “How long will I need to stay at the MacLeods?”
“Until this is over,” Charon answered. “I doona know how long that’ll be. We’ve been battling this evil for what seems like eternity.”
She glanced at Phelan to see him watching Charon intently. “Will you come to the MacLeods?” she asked Charon.
When he didn’t answer, she rose and walked to him. She stood in front of him until his gaze locked with hers. Growing up in England, she had been meek and subservient to her mother and sister while her father pretended everything was all right.
She did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. Until one day she snapped. Laura left her family behind and began to live for the first time. But it hadn’t been until she met Charon that she realized what she really wanted. Him.
Now he was sending her away. To protect her, yes, but it would mean never seeing him again.
“For so many years I was afraid to take what I wanted. I’m not going to stand aside now,” she whispered before she rose up and kissed him.
For a heartbeat he simply stood there, his lips unmoving against hers. Then, as if a dam broke, his arms clasped her to him as he roughly turned and pushed her against the wall to cover her body with his.
He seized, he captured.
He conquered.
Laura’s fingers delved into the cool strands of his dark hair. One jeans-clad leg wedged between hers, the rough denim rubbing against her bare thigh.
He kissed her with abandon. Wildly, recklessly. Madly. His tongue touched every part of her mouth as if he were learning her, exploring her.
All she could do was hold on to him as he deepened the kiss, urging her to let go. So she did. His hands held her even when her legs gave out from the sheer amount of passion coursing through her.
Dimly, she heard the glass door open and close and knew Phelan had left them alone.
She clung to Charon as his kisses made a path down her neck and into the vee of her shirt. Her breasts swelled, eager for his touch.
“Laura,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning her skin.
Her name had never sounded so beautiful as it did coming from his lips. He spoke it like a prayer, whispered and reverent.
And then he was kissing her again.
She clawed at his shirt until she found skin. He broke the kiss long enough to yank the shirt over his head, and then he claimed her lips again.
Laura ran her hands up his chest, learning every valley and ripple of steely muscle beneath his warm skin. How many times had she seen him without his shirt and longed to touch him?
Her lungs seized when his hand touched her bare thigh and slowly, leisurely moved upward. He squeezed her butt and ground his hips against her. Instinctively, she rocked her hips, his hard arousal causing her own passion to quicken.
His hand moved to her hip, where he rested it for the barest of moments, fingering the lace of her panties, before he continued his upward journey to her waist and stopping just short of her breasts.
Laura moaned with need, silently urging him to cup her breast. She needed him to touch her like she needed the air to breathe.
His thumb grazed the underside of her breasts, causing her nipples to harden. Laura wrapped a leg around his, anything to bring him closer and quench the burgeoning need that was rapidly overtaking her.
And then, finally, he cupped her breast.
Laura sighed into his mouth, but that sigh quickly turned into a moan as he ran his thumb over her nipple.
He pressed his hard cock against her, urging her higher. Laura sank her nails into his shoulder when he rolled her nipple between his fingers.
She was panting with need. Every fiber of her being centered on Charon and his touch.
Suddenly, he gripped the edge of her shirt and ripped it open. The sound of buttons hitting the wood floor and bouncing away was drowned out by his low moan.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.
Laura didn’t shy away from him as Charon gazed at her breasts. She’d always thought them too big, but with the way he was looking at her, she suddenly enjoyed them.
She tucked a finger in the waistband of his jeans and heard his quick intake of air as that same finger grazed the head of his cock.
In quick succession, she unbuttoned his jeans and lowered his zipper. He wore nothing beneath, which made her smile, because, somehow, she wasn’t surprised.
Charon grinned as he bent and lifted her in his arms before striding into his bedroom.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Charon’s body burned. And it was all because of Laura. Her kisses, her touch sent him careening over the edge, an edge he’d been afraid of.
But now … now he didn’t care. It was all about her. Touching her, learning her.
Loving her.
It didn’t matter that she now knew part of his secret. Laura was mixed up in the mess, so it was only fair she knew why. Yet, there was nothing that could convince Charon to tell her what he was.
Her pale green eyes were filled with passion and need. She gazed at him as if he were the only thing she wanted. It was how he wanted to keep it.
Nothing—and no one—would ever make him tell her he was a Warrior. He would do anything and everything it took to keep that information from her.
He gently laid her on the bed before he straightened to kick off his shoes and hurry out of his jeans. His hands itched to feel more of her silky skin and know the weight of her breasts once more.
She had been a temptation he resisted, but now he didn’t know why. All those wasted months he could have been enjoying her body and her amazing lips.
Charon put one knee on the bed, his body demanding he take her now. But he wanted to go slow, to savor every second.
He knew Phelan would guard the building, but in the back of his mind, he comprehended that he couldn’t dally as he yearned. Yet there was no way he could walk away from what Laura offered. Not when he craved her as he did.
“Charon,” she whispered, and rose up on her knees as if she knew his indecision. “Leave tomorrow for the rising of the sun. Let us have now.”
He moaned when her hand came to rest on his chest and slowly caressed downward until her long, slim fingers closed around his cock.
She gave a slight squeeze, sending his already inflamed blood to boiling. Charon wrapped one arm around her while his other hand cupped her breast.
Her head dropped back and the ends of her hair teased his thigh. He wanted all that glorious hair draped around him like a curtain as she leaned over him, riding him hard.
His cock jumped at the mere thought of it.
Charon claimed her mouth again. He couldn’t get enough of her and her soft moans as he teased her nipple. He wanted more.
He wanted all of her.
Laura moved her hand up and down the hard, thick length of Charon’s arousal. She loved the feel of his rod in her hands, loved the sounds he made in the back of his throat as she continued to stroke him.
But he was laying an assault on her senses with his kisses and fondling her breasts. His hands were everywhere. Touching, caressing. Learning.
Then his mouth moved down her throat once more. A soft cry fell from her lips as his lips closed over a turgid peak. He ran his tongue back and forth over her nipple, sending desire shooting straight to her sex.
Laura rocked her hips, seeking anything to ease the need within her. It tightened with each caress, each kiss … each lick.
She gasped when he cupped her sex, the heel of his hand putting pressure against her clitoris.
Charon shifted his mouth to her other breast, craving more of her. His fingers parted her curls to feel the dampness between her legs, and he groaned in response.
He pushed a finger inside her, her cry of pleasure made his god preen. Slowly, he moved his finger in and out of her, wringing more sounds of satisfaction.
It was just what he needed to ease the yearning inside him. Every sound that fell from her lips made him burn hotter. He wanted to lay her back, spread her legs, and bury himself within her tight folds.
Somehow he held back because he wanted to give Laura more than that. He wanted … He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. His mind was too full of the beautiful woman in his arms, his body too full of desire to think of anything but Laura.
Seductive, irresistible, all too alluring.
Laura.
Her hand on his cock was driving him wild. If she didn’t halt, he was going to spill.
He leaned forward, which sent her tumbling onto her back. For a moment, he simply gazed at her. The dark strands of her hair were spread around her, disheveled and wild.
It was her lips, swollen from his kisses and parted that made his balls tighten. But her eyes, those beautiful pale green eyes beckone
d him to sample more of her.
Charon leaned over her with hands on either side of her head. He lightly kissed her before moving down her body, stopping to nip each of her breasts for a second. Then he continued over her stomach to her hips, and then to the glorious triangle of black curls between her legs.
He shifted his shoulders beneath her legs and parted her folds.
Laura fisted the covers in her hands as Charon’s tongue touched her. She arched her back, the pleasure almost too intense to handle.
Then he found her clitoris, swirling his tongue around the tiny nub until she shook with the ecstasy filling her. He held her hips steady, refusing to allow her to move.
He licked, laved, stroked.
Her body was not her own. He commanded her, and she was helpless to do anything but follow, giving him everything and more.
The desire tightened until she thought she would burst from it. She was on the edge of an orgasm—so close it was within reach. Laura craved the release, but the more she moved toward it, the more Charon pushed her higher.
Charon opened his eyes to see Laura tossing her head side to side, her body tight as a bow. He knew he could give her the release she sought with one lick, but not yet.
He gave one final kiss to the inside of her thigh before he reached up and grasped her breasts. He squeezed her nipples, wringing a cry from her.
His attention focused on her lovely breasts gave her a slight reprieve. He lifted himself up and over her, his gaze on her sex spread beneath him, open and inviting. Her hips moved, seeking him.
His cock jumped in response, and suddenly Charon couldn’t hold back anymore. He guided his aching arousal to her core, and then thrust.
Charon buried himself to the hilt in one smooth push. She was tighter than he imagined, and so incredibly hot. He held still, holding back the tide of his own climax, but Laura had other ideas.
She began to move beneath him, her hands at his waist urging him to join her. He met her gaze and couldn’t deny her. With a hand braced beside her head, he shifted his hips.
Laura couldn’t look away from Charon’s dark gaze. He opened himself to her, allowed her to see into his soul for a heartbeat, but in that moment she knew he was a man she couldn’t walk away from.