Celtic Knot

by MacLeod, Shannon

  “What it’s going to constitute is reconstructive surgery if I find out her fucking ex-boyfriend is behind it. Your word, Dan,” he demanded

  Dan gave him a conflicted look. “Ian, you know I can’t keep secrets from Meg.”

  “You’ll keep this one,” Ian said, “until there’s a reason for her to know. Jaysus, you of all people should know how Megs is. She’ll scramble the National fucking Guard before either of us can blink.”

  When Dan nodded once in reluctant assent, Ian stuffed the pictures into the envelope and left without another word.

  On the way home, the truth of the situation hit him all at once. Someone’s been following us. I can’t act rashly here. I’ve got to think this through first. He peeked in the envelope at the images of Lily, smiling, laughing and happy and made a decision then to enjoy the rest of the day. This problem would be addressed tomorrow, when he had more time to plan his answer to the photos.

  * * * *

  That evening at the gypsy tent, Ian visited with the ladies while he waited for the fencing show to get underway. “Beth, you are positively aglow this evening,” Ian said, sweeping his cape into a deep bow and kissing her hand.

  Beth clasped the skirt of her lady’s gown and bobbed a curtsey before retorting in a passable brogue, “We’ll not be having any shenanigans from you this evening, Mr. Kelly. Although I will compliment you on your keen sense of the obvious.”

  Dramatically crestfallen at the setback, Ian appealed to Lily. “She doubts my sincerity, but in truth she makes a grand lady of the court. You, on the other hand, inflame my senses with your gypsy ensemble.” The black curls of her wig fell over his hand as he slipped it behind her neck and stole a kiss.

  Moments later, Renaud strolled into the tent wearing his musketeer garb and a ready smile. “Ready to duel, mon ami?”

  “I am, but I’m not going to just hand you your victory,” Ian warned.

  “But of course not,” Renaud agreed. Offering his arm to Lily, he asked, “Wouldst ma cher mademoiselle care for a moonlight stroll?”

  Ian froze, his breath catching hard in his chest. The air surrounding him became charged with tension.

  Taking Renaud’s arm, Beth pulled him away. “Do you think it wise to tease him, milord? You’re getting ready to go fight him with a big pointy stick.” She laughed, jerking a thumb at Ian. “Do you really want him pissed off at you while you’re doing it?”

  As the noble couple left for the market square, Lily slipped her arms around her bedeviled suitor. “You’re jealous,” she said, smiling.

  Recognizing the jest Ian grinned, sheepish as his breathing slowly returned to normal. He bent his head and whispered against her ear, “I’ve told you before, my lady. I do not share well. Today I found myself in the unenviable position of resenting your cat.” He cleared his throat in a dramatic effort to compose himself. “Jealousy is a new emotion for me, but I’ll try to do better. Although…I do have to say I feel like I’m cheating on you with your raven-haired alter ego.” He grinned, twirling a black curl around his finger.

  She opened her mouth to reply but he cut her off as he bolted for the tent entrance. “Jaysus. Renaud. My cue. I gotta go!”

  * * * *

  After work, Ian followed Lily to her apartment, diligently watching the rearview mirror.

  He waited while she fed Bella and collected a bag, but gave her an odd look when she did not change out of her Castle garb. “Remind me later to tell you about a fascinating magazine article I read this week,” she said with a wink.

  They reached Olde Town and his apartment without incident. Tugging his boots off, Ian gazed curiously at her outfit. “Would you mind if I changed?”

  “Not at all. Shall I pour you a glass of wine while you get comfortable?”

  “Yes, please,” he said, disappearing into the bedroom. She snagged two glasses from behind the bar then headed into the kitchen and retrieved a chilled bottle from the refrigerator. She returned a few minutes later to find the gas fireplace had been turned on to take the chill out of the large room. He had changed into a soft flannel shirt and faded jeans and sat half reclined on the couch, long legs stretched.

  Taking the seat beside him, she poured two glasses and handed him one. “You look beautiful by the firelight, my dear,” he murmured, and pulled her close so she lay across his chest. “Why don’t you make yourself more comfortable? Or would you prefer I did it?”

  Lily sat up abruptly. “No thank you, sir. I can do it myself.”

  His eyes widened at her sudden mood swing. “Sweetheart? Did I say something wrong?”

  “No. I’ve just been thinking about what you said about cheating on me with me when I’m wearing my Castle outfit. So tonight, Lily won’t be here. Raven will.” The corners of her lips twitched with suppressed excitement. “You may find that, although similar in looks, our personalities are very different. Lily is quiet and shy, but you may find Raven to be a bit more…aggressive.”

  He wet his lower lip and a shiver of anticipation ran through her. She moved to stand before him but when he reached for her, she danced backward and said no firmly enough to halt him in his tracks. She nodded her approval and began unlacing her vest. He watched her every movement, his eyes glowing with desire.

  “I did wear something under my outfit tonight,” she cooed, “would you care to see?”

  His voice was amused. “Oh yes, please.”

  She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips in blatant invitation. “Then close your eyes and no peeking.”

  He did as she asked, grinning in anticipation. In a flash, she tugged off her vest, shirt and skirt, fished her shoes out of her bag and slipped them on. She had practiced wearing this particular outfit while standing in front of her mirror. She assumed what she hoped would be a provocative pose, took a deep breath and plunged in. “Open your eyes.”

  All traces of amusement fled from his face. The black lace teddy fit her like a glove, accentuating both her long legs and narrow waist. The plunging neckline barely covered her nipples and she felt positively wicked as he drank her in from her head down to her stiletto heels, pausing at the sheer thigh-high stockings held in place with frilly garters, and back up again.

  His look dripped with dark promises of pleasure so intense, she nearly took a step back in alarm. “Come to me,” he commanded, holding out his hands.

  She took a deep breath and swayed toward him, stopping just out of arms’ reach. “I read a magazine article this week that suggested men like it when a woman takes charge occasionally. I’d like to test that theory. Let’s play a game, you and I,” she proposed. “The only rule is, you cannot touch me unless I say so. Understood?”

  His only answer was a slow nod.

  “Good. Now sit back and just relax,” Lily said. When he did, she straddled his legs and gave him a light, teasing lick on the lips. He reached for her waist and she stopped moving.

  “No touchie. Here, let me help you.” She stretched his arms over the back of the couch and patted them. “Comfy? Good.”

  She lowered herself onto his lap, and silently thrilled at the fierce erection straining against his jeans, resumed her kisses. Ian moaned, but made no move to touch her. She nibbled down his neck, unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands over his broad chest and shoulders. She flicked the tip of her tongue over a hard nipple and he inhaled sharply, clutched the back of the couch like a drowning man.

  When she unfastened the button on his jeans, his deep voice rumbled through the room like thunder. “This is cruel and inhuman, woman and you are evil beyond your years.”

  “My goodness,” she said, blinking. “Should I stop, then?”

  “No,” he rasped out.

  “Good.”

  Lily rose and pulled his shirt off, making sure her breasts brushed tantalizingly near his lips then unzipped his jeans inch by inch. A resonating growl vibrated in his chest, and his gaze was locked on hers as the jeans came down and off. Sexual tension rolled off him in waves, and
she was pleased with her newfound power. His stomach muscles rippled as her nails grazed lightly over his skin, and when her wig brushed his rigid hardness, he jerked as if he had been burned. She didn’t dare look at his face then, acutely aware of his hot, penetrating gaze. She blew a light breath over the crisp amber curls and felt him shudder, but when she stroked his length with her fingertip, he groaned loudly. His tormented plea came in a hoarse whisper. “Let me…touch you.”

  “Not yet,” Lily said, making an appreciative sound in the back of her throat and licking her lips. She lowered her head to him, her wild mane of black locks falling like a curtain and shielding her from his gaze. Ian’s face went momentarily blank with shock and his eyes rolled back in his head as he cried out from the unexpected ecstasy.

  “Feckin’…hell, Lily,” he whispered,“what have…you been….oh, Christ….reading?”

  She giggled, nibbling and licking her way up and down his length, cradling his soft sac in one hand while grasping him with the other, reveling in his unique male taste. I hope I’m doing it right. Mr. Owl, how many licks does it take… she thought, tentatively experimenting with pressure and touch. When she giggled again at the absurd thought, he writhed beneath her and shook his head like a frustrated bull.

  “She’s killing me and laughing about it–now?”

  His dark, ravenous expression simultaneously terrified and thrilled her. “You may,” she said, ending with a squeal of excitement when Ian leapt to his feet, plucked her off the floor in one fluid motion, threw her over his shoulder and stalked to the bedroom with his prize.

  “Your turn, wench.” Tossing her unceremoniously onto the bed, he ripped the lacy garments in his haste to get her naked. His breathing harsh and ragged, he pushed her knees apart and in one great thrust filled her. She cried out his name when he encircled her waist and locked her hard to his body, pistoning relentlessly into her with deep, possessive strokes.

  This was not the tender lovemaking of the night before. Ian took her hard and fast, all semblances of control gone. Shedding all inhibitions, she rubbed her body against him like a wanton cat in heat, surrendering herself to his dominance and responding to him with wild passion. She grazed his back with her nails and from the building intensity of his sounds, he was as close to an explosive climax as she. She pressed her mouth against his throat and when his shout of release came, gladly abandoned herself to be consumed in the deliberate fire.

  They lay joined for a long time, panting and clinging to one another. Ian slowly withdrew and moved to her side. “Sweetheart?” he asked.

  For a long, heart stopping moment there was no response. “Mmm?”

  Ian exhaled. “Sweet blessed mother, I thought I killed you. Are you all right, my darlin’?”

  “Definitely not.” Lily yawned. “I’m way much better than that. I’m delighted to report that my hypothesis was correct.”

  Grinning, he pulled her close and the last thing she heard before she fell asleep was his awe-filled voice. “Never underestimate the power of an educated woman…”

  18

  In the dark hours before dawn Lily awoke and found herself alone. She eased out of bed and feeling around behind the bathroom door for Ian’s robe, slipped it on and went searching for him. The apartment was dark, but enough moonlight poured in to help her find her way. She moved silent as a wraith from room to room until she reached his studio. Illuminated by the moon, he sat in the huge plush recliner staring out the window, and when she stopped in the doorway, turned and looked at her.

  “You should go back to bed, sweetheart, it’s very late,” he said softly.

  “Will you come with me?” she asked.

  He grimaced. “I’m just having a little trouble falling asleep. I’ll be along in a bit.”

  She tiptoed across the cold studio floor and eased into the chair next to him. He pulled her into his lap and she curled up contentedly, her head on his chest.

  It was Lily who broke the fragile silence. “What’s the matter?”

  He tensed at the question and she was unsure of her earlier wanton behavior. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, mo stor. You did everything just perfect,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

  “No secrets,” she reminded him.

  He sighed. “Hush, now,” he said, and stroked her hair until she fell asleep in his warm embrace.

  * * * *

  Ian looked down at the beautiful woman sleeping in his arms and a wave of fierce possessiveness tore through him. She’s not being threatened, he reasoned, but maybe she’d be better off without me in her life complicating things. His thoughts mocked him even as his grip tightened protectively around her. Willing to let her go, are you? Lily protested in her sleep and he relaxed his arms, realizing he had been holding her too tight.

  When are you going to tell her the truth? Hi snide inner voice continued its litany. Maybe she already knows about you. Bet it’s why she’s still here. Pathetic sod– toss her out and see how fast she runs. That’ll tell you if she cares or not–so sad so bad if you lose her…

  He tenderly brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek and studied her sleeping face. By day she was lovely, but in the moonlight, her beauty was so ethereal it made his heart ache. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, there was no way in hell he would ever give her up willingly. Therefore, he decided, whoever’s got the problem will need to come to terms with it. He resolved to start first thing Monday planting the seed for her to leave the agency and the problematic scorned boyfriend behind.

  * * * *

  Lily awoke in Ian’s bed with him sound asleep beside her. She gazed at him resting so peacefully and let herself wonder would be like to wake up next to him every morning. Okay, now that’s rushing it, she chided herself. Still, falling asleep in those big strong arms every night…and I’m pretty sure I could get used to this whole lovemaking thing… She smiled and teased a curl back from his forehead. Handsome man, she thought. God, I don’t want this weekend to end.

  Ian sighed in his sleep, the corners of his mouth turning up in a faint smile. “I love you,” Lily whispered but as expected, there was no answer.

  She eased from the bed, slipped on his robe and headed for the great room to tidy up from the night before. She started the coffee then glanced around the kitchen to see if there was anything to make for breakfast. He must have planned on us working up an appetite, she thought, peering into the now well-stocked refrigerator at the Canadian bacon, aged cheddar cheese and eggs. A glass bowl of melon chunks and berries stood on the top shelf next to an assortment of juices, and a whole loaf of crusty French bread rested on the counter near the coffee pot. With a nod of approval at her options, she hummed quietly and busied herself with making breakfast.

  * * * *

  The first rays of dawn had barely lit the sky when the little boy stealthily cracked open the wooden half door and slipped inside. There was a sudden movement in the darkened room and he ducked just in time to avoid the shadowy object that struck the door frame above him with a resounding whack. “Mamo, it’s me,” he cried in a rush of Gaelic, fumbling for the light switch.

  The tiny warrior, having raised the broom for a second assault, now lowered it in recognition. “Ye wee devil–what are ye about sneaking at this hour? And just look at ye, covered crown to foot in mud.” Clucking her tongue in disapproval, his grandmother plucked several dead leaves from his riot of auburn curls.

  Ian was cheerfully undeterred by the chastisement. “See what I’ve brought,” he said, thrusting a rough linen pouch at her with stems and stalks poking from it in all directions. “I found angelica and yarrow and a big bunch of cinquefoil and look…” He produced another bag with a triumphant air. “Blackberries,” he announced proudly, holding up a handful of the plump fruits for her inspection.

  A smile of approval crept over her lined face, and she smoothed a hand over his head. “So ye did, a stoirin,” she said, accepting his offerings. “Run u
pstairs and wash now, then ye can tell me last night’s dreams over breakfast.”

  He popped several of the juicy berries in his mouth and swallowed with a noisy gulp. “I dreamt about the lady with the pretty eyes again,” he said, frowning. “She was with a tall man in your kitchen. I thought at first it was Da, but his hair was red like mine.”

  “Ye see shades of what will be,” the old woman murmured, shooing the boy with a flip of her apron. “Off with ye now–don’t dawdle…”

  * * * *

  Ian’s nose wrinkled at the heavenly smells wafting into the bedroom, and it took him a moment to realize he wasn’t still dreaming. Seeing Lily nowhere in sight, he slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms and followed his nose. He stood in the doorway watching her glide around the kitchen and chuckled when the sight of him startled a gasp out of her.

  “Good morning, my love,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “You have once again amazed me. I had planned to cook breakfast for you, but you’ve beaten me to it. I think I’ll have to blame my sleeping in on your incessant physical demands on my body last night.”

  Lily giggled. “Your clothes aren’t lying on the floor in pieces. Coffee?”

  He held her chair and then sat across from her. His eyes closed in sheer bliss when he took the first bite of the ham and cheese omelet. “Oh darlin’, I’m so glad you were up first. I can’t cook anywhere near this good.”

  Lily smiled as he ate appreciatively, heaping compliments on her culinary skills. “You have a nice, roomy kitchen,” she commented, “mine isn’t nearly this big.”

  Ian lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. “It’s lost on me, I’m afraid. I don’t do much cooking or entertaining.”

  Lily gestured toward the blinking light on the phone hanging over the kitchen counter. “You don’t do much checking your messages, either. There are eleven new ones waiting.”

  “Oh, those,” he said. “The people I want to talk to call the cell. If they’re calling the house phone, they don’t have my cell number, which means I don’t want to talk to them, or they do have my cell number and I’m ignoring them.”