And her eyes.
Those eyes.
Made for sin, they were such a dark shade of brown they almost appeared black. Almond-shaped, thickly lashed, they were liquid destruction designed to steal a man’s soul. Eyes like hers didn’t let go once you gave into them.
That’s why he kept his distance. Save that one kiss.
That one, life-altering kiss.
A kiss he wished he could repeat a thousand times. A million.
His whole damn lifetime.
“Why did you give her to me, Highlander?” Heidrek said softly. “She is not only the kindest but the most beautiful woman I have ever met. It makes little sense.”
It would if Heidrek knew what Darach did about the ring. “I meant to keep her safe.”
“Meant.” Heidrek's eyes swept to Darach. “So do you mean to pursue her now?”
Darach stiffened. “I still mean to keep her safe.”
“As do I.”
“Then she will be well protected.”
“So it seems.”
Though the idea truly troubled him, Darach intended to honor his promise to the Viking if Heidrek still desired as much. “As I told you before, I know a way to switch the power, the passion that might lie betwixt her and me because of the ring.”
“Passion,” Heidrek said so softly he barely caught it. “Is such a thing something a mortal man can so readily control?”
“Aye and nay.” Darach took another shallow sip and watched his surroundings closely. “With the right amount of magic, anything is possible.”
“I would think only the gods possess such power,” Heidrek said. “And you and I do not worship the same gods.”
Heidrek had no idea how close he skirted to the truth. Their eyes met briefly before they continued to keep a close eye on what was going on around them. Both were in a whole new world and neither trusted it.
Eventually, William sidled up next to them with a dagger tucked by his side and disbelief in his voice. “I dinnae think ye’ve a ballock betwixt ye letting your lass roam as she does.”
The boy couldn’t be a day over ten but acted years older.
“I trust Adlin MacLomain,” Darach said. “Do ye not then?”
“Och.” William shrugged. “He’s nice enough but nice enough doesnae mean ye’ve got a lad figured out, aye?”
Darach and Heidrek perked their brows at his response. What sort of youngling thought that way?
“You speak as though you have lived a life far longer than you have,” Heidrek said.
“’Tis just simple logic.” William shook his head. “Have ye no logic of yer own then?”
“William,” a lass hissed as she took his hand. “Enough, lad.”
More bonnie than most with flaxen hair, she nodded at Darach and Heidrek. “Please forgive, William. Like ye, he is new to this place.”
When his eyes caught hers, Darach felt an odd sense of familiarity. “Aye, lass.”
Their eyes held for a moment before a tall Highlander with light brown hair joined her. His eyes locked with Darach’s as he wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist. “My apologies if William caught ye unaware.”
This time, the sense of familiarity was stronger. Much stronger. But why? Darach shook his head and tried to speak, but nothing came out.
“All is well.” Heidrek nodded at the couple who must be William’s parents.
“Come, lad. Let us give the newcomers some peace, aye?” the man pulled William and the woman after him.
Darach was almost tempted to follow before Adlin reappeared without Jackie. His eyes were merrier than they should be considering all that was on the horizon.
“I’ve provided Jackie with a chamber so that she might wash up.” Adlin’s eyes twinkled as they went between the two men. “Space is limited, so I’m afraid you must refresh in the same chamber.”
Darach and Heidrek not only frowned but voiced their opinion at the same time.
“Nay,” Darach said. “’Tis unseemly.”
“No,” Heidrek said. “Not until she belongs to me.”
When Darach’s eyes shot to him, Heidrek only shrugged.
“Then dinnae bathe.” Adlin waved a hand by his nose as he eyed them. “But dinnae expect she will want either of you near her otherwise.”
Darach and Heidrek’s eyes flickered to each other again, unsure. Adlin rolled his eyes and pointed upward as he walked away and threw over his shoulder, “’Tis not a matter of laying with her, lads. She could use your company and bathing is best for all.”
After Adlin left they continued to eye one another and pretend to drink.
“’Tis unseemly,” Darach reiterated.
“She does not belong to me yet,” Heidrek said.
Silence fell between them as the celebrations grew rowdier. Men chased women and lust blossomed in darkened corners. Though tempted to find a way to her without Heidrek knowing, Darach did his best to remember he was trying to push them together. So he finally said, “’Tis unwise of us to leave her alone.”
“It is.” Heidrek’s eyes went to Darach’s. “She is unsafe.”
“Without us defending her, how else could it be?”
They nodded and made their way up the curving stairs. Never had a stranger building been constructed than the Highland Defiance with its oddly placed arrow-slit windows and lack of balustrade. It had long been a joke in the MacLomain clan that Adlin might be a mighty wizard but not the brightest when it came to architecture. Why else would he have designed his first masterpiece so poorly?
When they reached the top, Darach called down the narrow hallway leading to the only empty room in the place. “Jackie, ‘tis us…may we join you?”
“Um, give me a minute please,” she replied, and water splashed.
“Take your time, woman,” Heidrek said. “Adlin wanted us to remain close so we are here.”
Though the men kept their eyes on the crowd, Darach knew Heidrek was as tempted to catch a glimpse of her as he was.
“It’s all right to come in now,” she finally called out.
Good thing there was just enough space for two to walk down the hallway or he and Heidrek might have battled it out to arrive first. Yet for all their rush to get there, both froze at the doorway.
He had never seen anyone lovelier than Jackie as she stood with her back to the fire. Though simple in design, the dress she’d been given was an off-white shade that warmed her creamy complexion and accentuated every curve to perfection. Her freshly scrubbed skin glowed and her sultry eyes flickered in and out of the torchlight.
“Hey there.” Her eyes went from Darach to Heidrek before sort of settling between them as she turned slightly and tugged at the back of her dress. “Label this awkward but I need someone to help me tie this.”
“I will help,” both men said at once and stepped forward.
Her eyes rounded and she shook her head. “I don’t think it takes four hands to get this done.”
Darach bit back a sigh. If he meant for the two of them to be together, he better let Heidrek do it. Because if his hands dusted her smooth flesh, that might be the end of all his noble intentions. So he nodded at the Viking and stepped back.
Heidrek wasted no time and soon tied her sashes with enough expertise that it was obvious he’d had his fair share of women. Despite himself, Darach couldn’t help but watch Jackie a little closer than intended. A lass’s body language gave away a lot, especially when a man was so close to her…touching her.
Though her head was bent and slightly tilted, she didn’t seem flushed. No gooseflesh rose on her skin. His magic tested the air around her. There were no heat fluctuations or movement based on tremors or shudders of pleasure.
He was only slightly surprised when Heidrek stilled and his eyes narrowed on Darach. The Viking sensed his magic. Though Darach had no idea how much power Heidrek possessed, his mother had been even more powerful than his father so he imagined the lad had inherited some gifts. That he could feel Darach’s ma
gic—the element of air—said much. Out of the four elements, it was the most difficult to track because it shifted so frequently.
“Thank you,” Jackie murmured, her eyes on Darach as Heidrek finished tying up her dress and stepped away.
For a second, he got the feeling she sensed his magic as well. All of the Brouns were witches, but as far as he knew, Jackie had displayed no signs of power yet except being able to communicate with Erin when she was in the Otherworld.
Heidrek crouched beside the tub and ran his hand through it once before he stood. His eyes met Darach’s. “The water is warm again. Bathe next Highlander. I will keep Jackie company.”
Darach’s eyebrows perked. So Heidrek could control the element of water as well?
The corner of the Viking’s lip inched up ever-so-slightly as he winked at Darach then took Jackie’s hand. “Come, woman. We will go watch the celebrations while the Scotsman sees to himself.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She offered Darach a smile as she passed.
He frowned as they went to the end of the hallway and sat on the edge overlooking the crowd. The Viking was all about spending time alone with her first. Which was for the best…right?
Darach undressed and bathed as quickly as possible. The room was much like he remembered except now it had furnishings. Hexagonal in shape, a keyhole-shaped window was the only thing that allowed in fresh air. A large, four-poster bed with sheer hangings was its centerpiece along with a small table and a few chairs.
He still wondered precisely why they were meant to be here at such a time. Though one would never know as much by looking at it, this building, better yet the stone that made up the window, was one of the most powerful places in Scotland. A portal of sorts that would lead to other Defiances throughout the country.
A change of clothes had been left on the bed. Darach smirked as he put on a tunic, wrapped a MacLomain plaid and pulled on boots. It looked like Heidrek would be wearing a plaid as well.
By the time he joined the other two, they were chuckling at something and their shoulders rested against one another’s. He suppressed a surge of jealousy and smoothed his expression as he plunked down on Jackie’s other side and gestured at Heidrek. “Your turn to bathe, Viking.”
Heidrek nodded and left but not before he squeezed Jackie’s hand and smiled.
“’Tis good you two are getting along so well,” Darach said. “He’s an admirable man.”
“I agree.” Her eyes returned to the crowd and an uncomfortable silence settled between them. He knew on some unconscious level that she was upset with him and he didn’t blame her. It was wrong of him to have kissed her then made himself scarce.
“Jackie,” he began, keeping his voice soft. “We should talk. I need to explain some things.”
Though she didn’t look at him, her words were blunt and to the point. “Why don’t you start by explaining why you kissed me then avoided me afterward?”
Unfazed by her directness, he told her the truth. Some of it anyway. “I kissed you because I wanted too. Because I couldn’t help myself.” It took everything he had not to tell her about his dreams. Though she tensed, he continued, trying to remember all the words he rehearsed for this very moment. “I shouldn’t have…” He shook his head, tongue-tied. “Not when I knew I could put you in jeopardy.”
“Why can’t you tell me what’s going on?” Her eyes shot to him. “A kiss is just a kiss, Darach. We’re by no means together and I can’t see it heading that way.” She shook her head. “It won’t head that way. We’re from two separate worlds.”
“Aye, lass,” he murmured, but her firm declaration upset him. He should be grateful. This is what he wanted. Her safety.
“I think it would be best if we forget the kiss ever happened and focus on getting along,” Jackie said. “It’s obvious the MacLomain, Broun connection doesn't necessarily apply to us. That you know something I don’t.” She cocked her head. “What happened back at the Viking fortress? What was supposed to be in your pocket?”
If he could only forget that kiss. How sweet she’d tasted. The softness of her skin. There would be no forgetting it. In fact, he was fairly certain he’d vividly recall that kiss far into the future.
“Darach?” she prompted. “Your pocket?”
He sighed, not sure how much he should say.
“Please tell me.” Her eyes pled with him. “Does it have to do with why you want me to be with Heidrek?”
“Aye,” he whispered. “It was supposed to stay with me. A lure. A means to trick the demi-god and keep him in pursuit of me, not you.”
“I don’t understand.” She frowned. “He wants my ring. What could possibly be more important?”
“The real ring,” he murmured. “Given to me by Brigit, the Celtic Goddess of Divination, shortly after Erin traveled back in time. The one you wore was a replica.” His eyes fell to her ring. “Until now mayhap.”
Her brows flew together and her frown deepened as she eyed her ring. “You mean to tell me I had a fake one on before?”
He took her hand and ran the pad of his thumb over the ring. “Aye.”
Magic wasn’t needed to sense the ripple of awareness that tore through her at his touch. She pulled her hand away and clenched her fist on her lap. “So you don’t know for sure if this ring is a fake or not.”
“Nay, but I’m guessing ‘tis real because the ring in my pocket is gone.” His eyes never left hers. “The magic used to make the false one was too great for me to know the difference.”
“I can only assume your father and Torra couldn’t tell the difference either.”
He shook his head. “Nay.”
She pressed her lips together and her eyes returned to the celebrations. “What about Adlin? Isn’t he supposed to be the most powerful wizard known to Scotland?”
“Aye,” he said. “I think that’s why ‘tis likely Goddess Brigit wants us to be with him now.”
“Goddess Brigit? That’s unbelievable,” she said softly, her eyes a little distant. “I studied the Celtic deities and always found her the most intriguing. It’s said that she was born at the exact moment of daybreak. She’s considered a triple goddess. They say she has three sister selves with distinct roles. Lady of Healing Waters, Goddess of the Sacred Flame and Goddess of the Fertile Earth or fertility in general. She brings the Flame of Inspiration, the Flame of our Creative Consciousness.”
“You know a lot about her,” he said, surprised.
“I read a lot,” she said. “And despite what Nicole says, the vast majority of it isn’t romance.” The corner of her lip tilted up. “Not that I don’t enjoy a good historical romance on occasion.”
“What made you want to read about Celtic gods?” He found it curious considering everything that was happening.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “They just drew me more than most deities.”
It occurred to him how focused he had been not only on his dreams but on her appearance…how little he really knew about her. He had suspected her intelligence from the beginning but wondered what existed beyond her careful facade. Because there was more to her beneath the mask she had learned to wear so well. Someone else beneath those tempered smiles and soft spoken words.
“What else are you interested in,” he started before Heidrek reappeared and ended the conversation with his appearance alone.
“Oh my God,” Jackie whispered staring up at him.
Darach scowled. Who knew a Viking could cut such a fine figure dressed as a Scotsman? It wasn’t right.
Heidrek held his hand out to her. “Might I escort you to the celebrations, Jackie?”
She grinned and took his hand. “Absolutely.”
It didn’t escape Darach that Jackie did not glance back to see if he followed. Again, there was no blaming her. There might be an attraction between them, but she wasn’t the sort to let that rule her. Instead, it seemed she was more than willing to go in the direction Darach had pushed her.
Toward
Heidrek.
“Ah, there you are!” Adlin exclaimed when they reached the bottom. He eyed all three with approval. “You clean up well.”
His eyes met Heidrek’s. “Why dinnae you take the lass for a turn to the pipes, aye?”
Heidrek nodded and pulled Jackie after him.
Adlin handed Darach a mug of whisky and gestured that he follow him. While honored to be in the company of the great MacLomain patriarch, his eyes trailed after Jackie. Hell, was he envious of the Viking.
“Stop looking as though all is lost,” Adlin said when they stopped at the outer edge of the dancing crowd. “You’ve followed the path laid for you admirably, lad.”
Darach’s eyes went to Adlin. “Though ye didnae summon us, ye know quite a bit, aye?”
Adlin shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I know what the Celtic gods tell me.” His lips thinned. “The ones that arenae evil that is.”
“And how many are evil outside the obvious?”
“Och, like with any religion, the Celts have their fair share.” Adlin sipped from his mug. “Tell me more of this dark demi-god ye face and the beauty, Brigit, determined to help you.”
Darach filled him in on everything, all the while getting the sense that Adlin already knew most of it. If anything, his patriarch was trying to get a sense of how his offspring saw things and how they intended to deal with it. He covered everything from the Broun lass’s disabilities to how Keir Hamilton’s father, the evil demi-god, had gradually been shifting from a black cloud to a man. He also mentioned Brae Stewart’s role in it and her twin brother, Cullen’s part, a Scotsmen turned angel. He didn’t leave out that the Genii Cucullati, three shadowy Celtic spirits, were in league with the demi-god as well.
“The Genii Cucullati.” Adlin rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Stealers of the soul. They tend to frequent births. Interesting ally for the evil you face.”
“Aye,” Darach agreed. “Have you any thoughts on it?”
“The Genii Cucullati would only ally themselves in this if they had something to gain. Something well worth their while.”
Passion of a Scottish Warrior (The MacLomain Series: Later Years Book 4) Page 3