Kenna hesitated, considering the idea. “I guess that would be all right,” she said. “It’s probably nothing you don’t already know.”
“Like as no.” He nodded his agreement.
She led him downstairs to her uncle’s study and illuminated the green-shaded lamp on the desk by pulling the gold chain. “It’s all there.” She indicated the bound journal and pages of loose notes.
He opened the Gaelic dictionary and flipped through the pages. “Is this how you learned so fast?” he asked in the ancient tongue.
“Understanding you is hard enough when you’re speaking English,” she said. “The Gaelic lessons can wait a while.”
“How did you come to read the spell to release me?” Ian was confused.
She’d spoken the words fluently, perfectly. Just as he’d imagined she would. Perhaps she’d only learned those exact words and not his entire language.
“I really don’t know how I did it,” she revealed, leaning against the desk. “I thought I was dreaming. I hadn’t yet deciphered the words on your tomb, but in the dream, I knew what they said.”
“`Twas no dream, lass.” Ian reached out and cupped her face in his hand. “You stood beside my tomb and read the spell. I heard every word come from your lips.”
He bent his head and kissed her. A light, gentle kiss. Her soft lips parted slightly and he resisted the urge to taste her with his tongue.
He was walking around the desk and sitting down in the chair before she had the chance to protest. He wasn’t sorry for kissing her. She’d wanted him to.
“What are you looking for in the journal?” she asked, as he began reading through it.
He needed to know why her uncle had been looking for his tomb. Duncan Douglas had believed he’d find immortality in the tomb, but had he known how? Had he known about the potion?
Och! He was a daft one for letting the potion out of his sight. He’d left the flask upstairs in his boot. What if Master Evan should think it an old Scottish brew and take himself a sample? The effects could be disastrous.
Ian tossed the journal aside and charged up the stairs to the bathroom. None of his things had been touched, thankfully, and he took the flask from his boot and put it in the pocket of his bathrobe.
“What’s that?” Kenna asked from behind him, out of breath from giving him chase up the stairs.
He turned and went over to her. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with, lass.” He tried to make his smile convincing. He couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. He spotted the bottle of whisky and the glasses and picked them up. “I thought I’d enjoy this wee dram while I’m reading.”
She eyed him with suspicion. “You certainly were in a hurry.”
“I’m thirsty,” he said. “Been asleep for a long time.” He went to step out of the bathroom, but she stood in front of him, blocking his way.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.” She narrowed her eyes as if she were dissecting him.
There was a lot he wasn’t telling her. But how could she know? Did she have the gift of insight and inner-knowing common among his people? He would have to be more careful around her from now on. “I’ll tell you everything I can when the time is right.” He kissed the top of her head and slipped past her.
She let him go. When she finally checked on him in the study, he pretended not to notice her. Only a few minutes later he heard her in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess he’d made. That should keep her out of his hair for a good time. He had to finish the journal. He had to know everything Duncan Douglas had known.
****
Kenna surveyed the spotless white tile floor of the kitchen. No one would ever suspect half the fridge had been scattered about the room only a few hours before. Would the warlord always be so aggressive with his food? Did he even know how to use silverware? She was almost dreading the next time she had to feed him.
Rosa would be returning this morning. After learning of her uncle’s sudden death, she’d cut her vacation short and wanted to be with the family in their time of need. Kenna had protested, but the stubborn woman refused to listen. How would she react to Ian?
Kenna wanted to make it as easy on her as possible so she’d cleaned the mess in the kitchen. Gazing out the window over the sink, she watched the night sky lightening with the coming dawn. For some reason, she felt daylight would change everything. She couldn’t keep Ian a secret forever. What would she tell people about him? He had to stay as a guest in the house. She couldn’t throw him out in the streets of Los Angeles alone.
She had to come up with a plausible story. Considering he was a six-foot-six, heavily muscled, well-armed Scottish warlord who had just learned how to turn on lights and only discovered television about twenty minutes ago, her options were going to be rather limited.
“Kenna!” Ian shouted from her uncle’s study. “What is the meaning of this?”
She rolled her eyes and went into the room.
Now what?
First he’d had questions about the books. Then the light switches, the telephone and the gas fireplace lit by remote control. Since he’d found the television, he hadn’t stopped with the questions.
Ian was seated behind the desk, but now his focus was on the flat-screen television in the wooden cabinet along the wall, instead of on the journal. She suspected he’d finished reading it anyway. Since he knew Gaelic, it wouldn’t take him as long as it had her. He gripped the remote control tightly in his hand as he watched the morning news.
“What is the meaning of what?” she wondered with a casual shrug. It was only the weather.
“How does this woman move the clouds?” He watched in rapt fascination as the weather girl discussed another cold front moving in from the north, her hands sweeping across the moving digital images on the screen. “Does she have the power to control the weather?”
How did she explain this one? Despite how foreign the future must be for Ian, he learned fast. “She’s not controlling the weather, she’s telling it,” Kenna said. “We have ways of predicting the weather so we know when it’s going to rain or snow and what the temperature will be.”
“Then this is nothing new,” he concluded. “We had this in my time as well. We knew it was going to rain when the gulls came in off the sea.”
Not quite as scientifically accurate, but then, who the hell was she to argue? She knew nothing of his time. If Ian had known his land well enough he’d probably notice if one rock was out of place, and he’d damn well know what kind of weather to expect. “It’s the same idea,” she said. “People nowadays are too busy to watch birds. We watch the news instead.”
“I like this news. It is a good thing for people to watch.”
Kenna couldn’t argue watching the news was informative, but it was also so depressing that she didn’t usually bother with it. Not on a regular basis anyway. Right now it was probably the best thing for Ian to be watching. Between the stories and the commercials, he was quickly absorbing the twenty-first century.
“And coming up next this morning, we’ll be speaking with Dr. David Wilkes of the Archer Museum about his views on the tomb he found in Scotland and the curse of Ian the Great.”
Kenna and Ian both looked back at the television, their mouths hanging open as the news anchor continued.
“Dr. Wilkes claims the tragic death of Duncan Douglas was no mistake—”
“No,” Ian said. “It certainly wasna mistake.”
Kenna now looked at Ian. What did he know about her uncle’s death?
“—and he’ll be here right after this break to tell his tale and discuss how Duncan Douglas’s heirs are refusing to give him access to his rightful discovery, to let him study the tomb or prove its authenticity. The drama of Ian the Great continues to unfold, here, on channel five. More after this.”
A commercial for Excedrin flashed on the screen. Kenna was suddenly feeling a headache coming on. How dare David Wilkes go on live television to discuss what was happening in her life.
He had no right. She’d been avoiding the reporters until she knew exactly what they were dealing with and what she could tell them. She had no doubt David’s impatience had led him to try swaying the media in his favor to make her and Evan look bad.
This could be a disaster.
“Not even here a week and I’m already on the telly.” Ian smiled broadly, proud of the fame he was receiving.
Kenna glared at him. He had no idea how much this could upset things. She was trying to keep Ian a secret, to keep him safe until she figured out what to do with him. The reporters would be back in a frenzy for her and Evan’s reaction to whatever David had to say. Just what they didn’t need with Ian now walking and talking.
“What do you know about my uncle’s death?” she asked him.
“I know it was no’ caused by any curse, lass,” he told her. “There’s no such thing. Something else killed him.”
“Or someone else.” She held his green gaze.
He didn’t look away from her. His frown deepened, and she knew there was something he wasn’t telling her. She could feel her sixth sense stirring, wanting to get it out of him.
“Welcome, Dr. Wilkes,” the anchor’s voice filled the room as the segment came on. “We’re so excited to have you on our show.”
“Thank you, Donna. I’m glad to be here. It’s time someone honestly discussed the rare find my team made in Scotland a few weeks ago.”
“His team?” Kenna fumed. It was her uncle who’d discovered the location and formed a team to excavate it. Not the pompous bastard on her television.
“We understand the heirs to the estate have not been very understanding in your attempts to study the discovery further, to validate it.”
“That’s right,” he agreed. “They are young, with no understanding of the work their uncle did. He spent his life in pursuit of the tomb of Ian the Great, and the youth of our generation just doesn’t place the same kind of value on things we did in the past.”
“How dare he!” Kenna shouted, anger flaming her cheeks. She wanted to reach through the television and punch his perfect face.
Ian only chuckled, apparently not as upset by the whole thing as she was.
“What can you tell us about the curse, Dr. Wilkes?” The news anchor grew excited, squirming about in her seat as she waited for him to answer.
Kenna and Ian grew silent.
“As many of us know, Scotland is an ancient land, full of ancient magic...” David paused for some sort of dramatic effect. “Faeries.”
“The curse comes from Faeries?” The anchor gaped.
“That’s right. The tale of Ian the Great says he was made immortal by the Queen of the Faeries to be the greatest warrior Scotland had ever known, but he betrayed her authority, refused to do as she asked of him. That angered the Queen, so she punished her disloyal servant by sealing him in a tomb, and promising the curse of death to any who should open it.”
“Bollocks!” Ian grew angry now, shouting at the television. “That’s total bollocks!”
“And this is what you believe happened to Duncan Douglas?”
“Well...” David gave a nervous laugh, straightening his tie. “It’s hard to believe a curse truly exists, but one cannot discount the coincidence of Duncan Douglas’s discovery of the tomb, and his sudden death. Only future attempts to study the tomb will reveal the truth of the legend.”
“And we hope you’re allowed the chance to do that, Dr. Wilkes. We’d love to have you back with the full story.”
“I’d love to get it.” He stared darkly into the camera, like he was looking right at them. “One way or another, I will honor my pledge to Duncan Douglas to find the truth about Ian the Great and finally put his soul to rest.”
“Bullshit!” Kenna blurted out. “What a load of bullshit!”
“Aye, lass.” Ian nodded. “I agree.”
The show switched to a commercial break and Kenna paced around the room. “What are we going to do?”
“Invite him over for a visit,” Ian suggested. “Then I can run him through with my sword.”
Her mouth fell open in shock as she realized what sort of man she had roaming around in her house, and her world. The warlord’s solution to everything must be to fight it, to fuck it, or to kill it. It was so archaic.
“The housekeeper will be here in a couple of hours.” She tried to take his mind away from running David through with his sword, though she found she was having a hard time forgetting about it. “She’ll make breakfast, or whatever you want.”
She had to find ways to keep him occupied. When she didn’t, he became focused on her with such intensity it made her start thinking crazy thoughts. Erotic, lustful thoughts. Ian oozed powerful, male sexuality like chocolate éclairs oozed cream.
“I wondered if you had household servants.” He swiveled in the chair to face her. “`Tis a big house for only one woman to look after.”
“Rosa is not a servant,” she warned. If Ian tried to get high-handed with Rosa, he’d have a big surprise. She wouldn’t tolerate it. “She gets paid for her work and you’ll treat her with respect.”
She had to reign in her temper. She couldn’t blame Ian for being chauvinistic; that’s how it was in his time, but he’d soon come to learn the world was a different place than what he was used to. Quite a different place.
“I’ve never shown disrespect to a servant.” He rose from the chair and stalked over to her. “I believe in treating people with kindness.” He grasped the back of her neck with one of his big, warm hands and brought his mouth over hers in a kiss.
Kenna knew she should push him away. He couldn’t keep stealing kisses from her like this, but she didn’t want him to stop. He kissed with passion and skill; all wet and wicked and warm. When he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth, she moaned softly and put her arms around him. Ian slid his other arm around her waist and pulled her even closer, crushing her body against his, pressing her breasts against the solid muscles of his chest.
The scent of him surrounded her, invading her senses with the smell of forest and man. She wondered what his bare skin would feel like under her hands. How he would taste on her tongue. A warm shiver rushed through her and her nipples tightened, making her wonder what his mouth would feel like there.
Dizziness washed over her and she held onto Ian tighter, afraid she really might pass out from his kiss. He kissed just like a man should kiss. She opened her mouth and began kissing him back. She put everything she had into it. She didn’t want Ian to find her lacking. She had some experience. Just to show him, she sucked on his bottom lip and teased it with her tongue.
He growled low in his throat when she did that and tightened his grip on the back of her neck, his kiss turning fierce and wild. Kenna was spinning, spiraling out of control as his tongue explored her mouth. She surrendered completely to his plundering kiss. Never wanted him to stop.
“I see you two have been keeping each other company.”
She jumped in surprise when she heard Evan. She tore herself away from Ian, backing up to leave a generous amount of space between them. Ian was staring at her like he wanted to devour her, his chest heaving while he breathed heavily. She had to catch her own breath as she blinked and looked over at Evan.
Her cousin leaned against the side of the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, with a smug smirk on his face. “Don’t let me ruin all your fun.” He chuckled. “It’s not every day a girl gets kissed by an ancient Scottish warlord. I only request you go upstairs when you’re ready to kick your knickers up, or at least close the door.”
“Oh!” Kenna fumed, making the embarrassed blush in her cheeks grow even hotter. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
“Not at six-thirty in the morning.” Evan looked warily at Ian, who was taking long strides towards the door. He backed out into the hallway and Ian closed the door on him.
When Ian turned and started charging towards her, she wanted to run. She suddenly knew what i
t felt like to be prey. The intensity of his stare held her captive, rooted in place, her feet unable to move. Did he intend to kick her knickers up?
Before she could process that thought, his arms were around her, lifting her off the floor, and then his mouth was back on hers as he spun them around and set her on top of the desk. She curled her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. He dug his hands into her hair, gripping handfuls of it, and tilted her head back. His kiss made her so delirious she barely noticed when he nudged his knee between her legs and spread them open so he could rest his hips in the cradle of her thighs.
How had she let herself get so carried away by one little kiss? If she didn’t stop, Ian was absolutely going to kick her knickers up and take her right on top of her uncle’s nice, mahogany desk. That thought caused pleasure to shoot through her, and she decided to throw caution to the wind.
Then she regained her good sense and broke away from Ian’s kiss. He panted as he stared down at her, his brows drawn over his green eyes. Both of his strong hands were cupping her bottom, holding her firmly against the hard bulge under his robe. He slowly moved himself up and down over her. The sweet pleasure of that action alone had her close to climax. Was she that hard up? Or was he just that good?
“Stop!” She pushed against his chest. She might as well be trying to move a brick wall for all the good it did her.
“I thought you were enjoying my touch.” He trailed gentle kisses along her neck, causing her to shiver, while he continued rocking himself between her legs.
Pleasure poured into her. Kenna was enjoying Ian’s touch. Way too much. Things were all happening too fast for her. Sleeping with the warlord was going to make it harder for her to figure out what to do with him. She had to be the smart, sensible one. In control. Like always. She could sense trouble was coming, and she had to keep her head on straight.
The Warlord Forever Page 4