Midnight's Captive (Dark Warriors)

by Donna Grant

Laura walked out of the bathroom and came to a halt. She smiled as she stared at the drop-dead gorgeous male who reclined on the bed with his eyes closed and nothing covering him.

  She let her eyes run over every delectable inch of Charon’s muscled form. The last of the bite marks from the selmyr were healing, and the fact he was lying there with his eyes closed told her how exhausted he was.

  Though she was loath to disturb him, she wanted to be beside him. Laura quietly walked to the bed. The only sound was the wooden floor creaking beneath the rug.

  She glanced at the bed to find Charon’s chocolate gaze riveted on her. Her heart skipped a beat at the desire she saw.

  Laura pulled at the belt holding her robe together. As soon as it parted, she heard Charon’s growl of approval. She let the robe fall to the floor, and then stood while Charon’s gaze raked over her.

  He sat up and grabbed her hand to slowly pull her to him. Laura bent her knee to place it on the bed, and then found herself straddling Charon.

  His thick arousal pressed against her stomach and made her blood run wild. She placed her hands on his chest and felt the hot, hard sinew beneath her palms.

  In the next heartbeat, she was on her back, Charon kneeling between her opened thighs he held in his hands. Laura couldn’t calm her breathing, not when the need was so great.

  He released her legs and leisurely caressed from her neck, over her aching breasts, down her stomach until he reached her sex. With slow, measured caresses he teased the dark curls that hid her.

  She gasped when his finger lightly grazed her clitoris. Again and again, he would draw near the swollen nub, but he wouldn’t touch it.

  The head of his arousal pushed at her entrance. Laura locked her eyes with his, and waited for him to fill her. With one thrust, he was seated to the hilt. Her body welcomed him, yearned for him.

  Needed him.

  He was all she ever wanted, all she would ever need. With him she felt as if she could conquer the world and stand against any evil.

  With him she was complete.

  “You’re mine,” he whispered as he stared into her eyes.

  She placed her hand over his heart. “And you’re mine.”

  “Forever.”

  “And always.”

  Laura’s eyes slid closed when Charon bent and took her lips in a searing kiss as his hips began to move. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave her body, her heart, and her soul to the immortal Warrior who had claimed it.

  EPILOGUE

  Ferness

  Two days later

  Charon smiled when Laura came up behind him on the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. They stared out the window overlooking the forest for several quiet minutes.

  “Any word?” she asked as she kissed his cheek.

  “Nothing. There’s no sign of Jason Wallace anywhere.”

  “He’s probably dead.”

  “Could we get that lucky?”

  She skimmed her nails through his hair. “The breadth and width of Scotland is being searched, my love. You spent all of yesterday looking for the bugger.”

  “We’re missing something. I know it.”

  “What does Phelan think?”

  Charon hated the frustration that wouldn’t loosen its hold. “He says Wallace is dead.”

  “You don’t believe him?”

  “I can hear the lie in his voice. By the way Phelan is crisscrossing Scotland tells me he’s doing some searching of his own.”

  “That’s all we can do,” Laura said and squeezed her arms around him. “Every Warrior from MacLeod Castle is searching. The fact Broc can’t find Jason should say something.”

  “It should, but Declan was able to hide himself from Broc’s power before. Jason could as well.”

  Laura rose from the bed and walked around to stand in front of him. He gripped her jean-clad hips as she stood between his legs. “To talk of happier things, Con sent over a truckload of whisky.”

  Charon took her left hand in his and pulled her down beside him.

  “Why aren’t you happy? You should be happy with that news,” Laura said.

  He grinned, but was too anxious to answer her. Instead, he flipped open his hand where the three-carat blue diamond in a filigree platinum band sat nestled in his palm.

  “I know your world has been rocked, and there’s a chance the war I’ve been raging will continue, but I couldn’t go another day without asking if you’d be my wife. I want you to share my name as well as my bed, Laura. Will you marry me?”

  Laura’s hands shook as she covered her mouth and stared in shock at the stunning ring. She lowered her hands and nodded. “Yes. Of course!”

  She smiled through the tears that filled her eyes as he placed the ring upon her finger.

  “We can wait as long as you need,” Charon said before he kissed her.

  Laura had never been so happy, but there was one question she hadn’t dared ask. “We don’t live at MacLeod Castle. I’ll age, Charon. I’ll die.”

  “Then we’ll move to the castle,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you with me.”

  “Your life is here, not at the castle.”

  “My life is anywhere you are. Besides, I know the MacLeods are looking for the spell that would bind our gods.”

  She was so shocked that for a moment she couldn’t speak. “You’d be mortal?”

  “Aye,” Charon answered with a wide smile. “We could grow old together.”

  “But you’re a Warrior.”

  He shrugged and ran his thumb over her ring. “I know the Dragon Kings will watch over things. It’s time for our life.”

  “Whatever that is. Be it you stay immortal or not. We are together. That’s enough.”

  There was no more talking as he kissed her and pushed her back on the bed.

  * * *

  Glasgow

  Aisley parked the car and got out, the steady beat of the nightclub filling the streets. How she had missed the music so loud that it drowned out her thoughts.

  She walked through the back door to find Dan’s surprised face. “Miss me?” she asked.

  “More than you know,” he said, and huffed on his cigar. “How long you staying this time, lass?”

  She shrugged and walked through the curtain of beads into the small room that served as a dressing room. Aisley didn’t even look in the mirror.

  There had been a time she would have spent an hour sitting there making sure her hair and makeup were just right. But tonight she wasn’t there to work. She was there to get lost in the music.

  “Damn, girl!” Pam said when she caught sight of Aisley. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again once your cousin found you. All that money and all.”

  Aisley forced a smile. “Is my cage taken?”

  Pam pointed up past the floor of crushed bodies moving to the music. “Stacy is up there now, but I can tell her to take a break.”

  Aisley pulled out a wad of pound notes. “Tell her to take the night off.”

  Pam whistled and then flicked the switch to lower the cage from the ceiling. Aisley impatiently waited. In the birdcage she could dance and let the music take away her worries without having to concern herself with anyone around her.

  Once Stacy was out of the cage, Aisley stepped inside and held on as it was lifted back to the top. She closed her eyes, remembering a time when she had been hired to dress scantily and dance in the birdcage all night long.

  That seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then. She wasn’t the same naïve girl who had walked the streets of Glasgow with stars in her eyes and dreams as big as the sky.

  The song faded, quickly replaced with “Where Have You Been” by Rihanna. Aisley felt the music drift around her. It called to her soul, and to her surprise, it was her magic that answered.

  Music had always been her refuge, the place she would go to for everything. Tonight she needed the hard beats, loud drums, and long guitar solos like she’d n
ever needed them before.

  Her world was destroyed. She was both thankful and fearful. The selmyr could still find her, but until they did, she was going to revel in the music that let her drift away from the hell she lived in.

  A surge of magic filled her, taking her breath. She gave in to the seductive beat of the music and her magic and left the world behind as she began to move to the haunting strings of the song.

  * * *

  Phelan shut off his Ducati and pushed the kickstand down as he removed his helmet. He was thirsty and hungry, and he needed a woman.

  He’d been in need of a female for several days, but oddly, he had yet to find one who appealed to him. Which was just … strange.

  Phelan had never been too particular when it came to his women. Many had flirted with him the past few days, and they had even offered themselves. For the first time, he was the one to walk away before he had sex with them.

  He swung his leg over the motorbike and stood. On the side of the street he was on were two pubs. Both looked lively enough.

  Yet it was the nightclub across the street that kept drawing his gaze. He could feel magic. For several minutes, he simply stood there trying to determine where the magic was coming from.

  That wasn’t the only weird thing. There were times he was sure it was drough magic, and others that it was mie.

  “They’re probably both here,” he muttered to himself and crossed the street to the club.

  He pushed through the front door and was instantly assaulted with blaring music, dimmed lights, and lasers. The feel of magic grew stronger inside the club, which intrigued him. After he paid the fee to enter, he walked through the thick throng of people to the even more crowded bar.

  “What’ll you have?” shouted a cute bartender with ebony skin and a blouse unbuttoned so she showed ample cleavage.

  “Whisky.”

  She gave a wink and hurried away to get his order. Phelan slowly looked around the large club. He grinned as he spotted couples in corners—and some in the middle of the dance floor—kissing and grinding.

  He turned to place both elbows on the bar when he noticed what looked like four human-size birdcages hanging over the dance floor. Inside each was a woman dancing.

  All the women were beautiful, but it was the woman with long black hair, mini-skirt, and short shirt that ended after molding over her breasts who got his attention.

  “Here you go,” the bartender said.

  Phelan paid her without taking his eyes from the woman dancing. “Who is that?” he asked over the music that seemed to grow even louder.

  The bartender turned her head to look where he was pointing. “Oh, that’s Aisley. She’s not been here in a couple of years. Forget it. She doesn’t talk to anyone. Though she always gets the blokes’ flags to raise,” she said with a knowing wink.

  Phelan took his drink and moved to a different part of the club to get a better view of Aisley. She danced with her eyes closed, as if she were part of the music blaring around her.

  He’d never seen anything like her before. Her body was pliant, her movements fluid. She was one with the music, as if she didn’t exist without it, and it without her. Her dancing enthralled him, fascinated him.

  Captivated him.

  And that was nothing compared to what the magic was doing to him. It swarmed him, surrounding him in its persuasive, formidable tethers without him even knowing it.

  His body was on fire, aching for a woman’s touch—Aisley’s touch.

  Phelan had no idea how long he watched her or how many songs she danced to. He would stay there for eternity if it meant he could see her.

  And then she opened her eyes to look right at him.

  Something primal moved inside him. He had to know this woman. At all costs.

  When he saw the cage being lowered, he hurried to her. She tried to evade him, but there was no way Phelan was going to lose sight of her.

  He followed her down a long, narrow hallway that came to a dead end. She whirled around and glared at him with eyes as dark as her hair.

  Phelan could hardly breathe. She was magnificent dancing, but up close he was stunned at her earthy beauty from her dark skin, speaking of Spanish heritage, to her incredible lips.

  His hands itched to feel her mocha-colored skin beneath his. Even when he knew he should back away from her, he couldn’t. He kept walking to her until he stood inches from her.

  “Wh—?”

  He placed a finger on her lips to silence her. “No’ tonight, beauty. No words,” he said as he leaned close and brushed his lips over hers.

  Phelan felt her body jerk. Was it in surprise? Had she thought he would hurt her? Never. She was a woman to be protected and cherished, a woman to be loved and adored.

  He placed his lips on hers. When she relaxed, he swept his tongue inside her mouth and groaned at the smooth, honeyed taste of her.

  Her soft moan was his undoing. He deepened the kiss, the need, the sheer, unadulterated hunger that assaulted him, left him reeling.

  But he couldn’t release her. She tasted too good.

  Phelan lifted his hand and grazed his thumb over her bared waist. Longing shot through him, setting him on fire with the desire urging him on.

  Her skin was as soft as down, and her kiss as heady as wine. The fact she was responding to his kisses only made his need grow.

  He groaned when she placed her hand on his chest, and though he hated to stop it, he ended the kiss when she gave him a soft shove back.

  Phelan glanced around, wondering if there was a place they could be alone. He had to have her, or explode from the desire heating his blood.

  “You don’t want to get mixed up with me,” she whispered and moved around him.

  It was only as he turned to watch her leave that he realized the magic he’d been feeling was hers.

  “Go ahead and run, beauty. I’ll find you again,” Phelan said to himself.

  * * *

  Aisley shoved open the back door to the club and gulped in the cool night air. She reached out to grab hold of the side of the building as her world tilted haphazardly.

  “My God,” she murmured in shock and dismay. “I just kissed a Warrior.”

  How he hadn’t realized what she was and killed her instantly, she didn’t know. But it was time for her to get out of town.

  Don’t miss Donna Grant’s sensational e-series

  MIDNIGHT’S

  TEMPTATION

  Available in Fall 2013

  … and look for the full volume of Midnight’s Temptation in October 2013

  FROM ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS

  ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS TITLES BY

  DONNA GRANT

  THE DARK SWORD SERIES

  Dangerous Highlander

  Forbidden Highlander

  Wicked Highlander

  Untamed Highlander

  Shadow Highlander

  Darkest Highlander

  THE DARK WARRIOR SERIES

  Midnight’s Master

  Midnight’s Lover

  Midnight’s Seduction

  Midnight’s Warrior

  Midnight’s Kiss

  Midnight’s Captive

  THE DARK KING SERIES

  (e-book series)

  Dark Craving

  Night’s Awakening

  Dawn’s Desire

  Praise for

  DONNA GRANT

  THE DARK WARRIORS SERIES

  “Paranormal elements and scorching romance are cleverly intertwined in this tale of a damaged hero and a resilient heroine.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Midnight’s Lover

  THE DARK SWORD SERIES

  5 Tombstones! “Another fantastic series that melds the paranormal with the historical life of the Scottish highlander in this arousing and exciting adventure. The men of MacLeod Castle are a delicious combination of devoted brother, loyal highlander, Lord and demonic God that ooze sex appeal and inspire some very erotic daydreams as they face their faults a
nd accept their fate.”

  —Bitten by Books

  4 Stars! “Grant creates a vivid picture of Britain centuries after the Celts and Druids tried to expel the Romans, deftly merging magic and history. The result is a wonderfully dark, delightfully well-written tale. Readers will eagerly await the next Dark Sword book.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  4 Hoots! “These are some of the hottest brothers around in paranormal fiction.”

  —Nocturne Romance Reads

  5! Top Pick! “An absolutely must read! From beginning to end, it’s an incredible ride.”

  —Night Owl Romance

  5 Hearts! “I definitely recommend Dangerous Highlander, even to skeptics of paranormal romance—you just may fall in love with the MacLeods.”

  —The Romance Reader

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  MIDNIGHT’S CAPTIVE

  Copyright © 2013 by Donna Grant.

  All rights reserved.

  For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  ISBN: 978-1-250-01727-7

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / July 2013

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  eISBN 9781466807402