Waking Up

by Arianna Hart

  He had to find her again, explore what it was about her that made Morrigan’s mark respond like this. Could Ciara possibly be the key to ending his curse?

  Okay, think. What did she say last night? Is she in New Orleans for the week or just the weekend? He couldn’t remember. Better not take the chance. She hadn’t told him what hotel she was staying in but he recognized it from the vision. There was a coffee house on the corner of the street. He could grab the paper and wait there and casually run into her.

  Yeah, that was better than stalking her in the lobby of her hotel. He didn’t want to scare her off before he knew what it was about her that affected the curse. Could his eternal torment be coming to an end? He couldn’t even imagine it.

  Declan had thought with Christianity almost completely taking over the old country, Morrigan’s powers would have diminished, but he’d been wrong. The curse had continued well beyond when anyone even knew about the goddess who was maiden, mother and crone. Sure, there were still some druids about, and some of the Wiccans he’d met over the years knew about the old gods, but none of them had the power of even the weakest priestess of his time.

  Which brought him back to Ciara. Was she a believer in the old ways? Before he could ponder it further, another storm of lust bowled him over. This time he saw a tiny bathroom and Ciara in a towel. The combination of the sight of her bountiful breasts covered only by a scrap of material and the effects of his mark had him gritting his teeth in pain.

  He closed his eyes and recalled last night when Ciara had ridden him, her head thrown back as her pussy clenched around his cock. That alone was enough to draw his balls up. He wrapped his hand around his erection and pumped.

  It didn’t take long for the orgasm to hit and he came like a geyser. The head of his cock was almost purple and he was still hard, but at least he’d had a little relief. He didn’t know how often these blasts of lusts would hit, but he hoped they’d slow down. It could get very embarrassing to have a constant hard-on.

  Ciara breathed a sigh of relief as she dropped her bags on the floor of her front hallway. It was good to be home. Her head still hurt and her stomach wasn’t up to more than some dry crackers, but she was home. For once, the silence of her apartment wasn’t depressing. It was comforting.

  New Orleans was fun and exciting and the food and music were incredible, but she wasn’t cut out for The Big Easy. The constant noise and crowds of people had been energizing at first, but by the end of the weekend, she’d longed for the normalcy of her apartment outside of Hartford. Connecticut might be boring, but it was home.

  She dragged her suitcase to her bedroom and left it on the floor. Tomorrow was soon enough to take care of it, for now she just wanted to crawl into bed—her own bed—and sleep. In the morning she’d be back to her boring life. There would be no more debauched nights with a gorgeous man making her body sing.

  As she slid under the covers, she relived as much as she could remember from last night. Declan had played her body like a violin. He’d pulled sensations from her she didn’t even know existed. She’d felt things she’d only ever read about. Hell, he’d shown her things she hadn’t even read about in her romance novels.

  She squirmed as she recalled his mouth trailing a line of fire down her back as his finger played with the cleft of her behind. When he’d bent her over and driven his cock into her soaking wet pussy, she’d come so fast her knees had almost given out.

  Just the memory of it had fluid gushing between her legs. She thought about getting her vibrator out of the nightstand, but it seemed like a pale comparison to Declan’s thick cock. Instead, she parted her swollen folds and rubbed her engorged clit. Her wrist where she’d gotten the tattoo brushed against the wiry hairs of her mound and the sensation shot her over the edge. She bucked and gasped as the wave rolled over her.

  Memories of Declan swirled in her head as she came down to earth. She’d tried to push him out of her mind all day, but he’d remained foremost in her thoughts—at least when she wasn’t wondering how she’d survive the worst hangover of her life.

  Obviously, she wasn’t cut out for one-night stands. Leigh would have been able to sleep with Declan and forget him as soon as she walked out of his hotel room. Her friend was an expert at living for the moment. It was no big surprise that Ciara was not.

  Part of her regretted not getting Declan’s contact information—or at least his last name. But would she have the nerve to call him if she had his number anyway? Probably not. It was better to enjoy the memories for what they were, an incredible night of sex, than to romanticize them and risk ruining it.

  No, she’d never see Declan again, but he’d given her a gift that went beyond multiple orgasms. He’d made her feel like a woman again. A lush, vibrant, sexy woman instead of a dried-up stick. And if she’d felt a bit embarrassed in the morning, that was a small price to pay for reclaiming her femininity.

  Her last thought before sleep claimed her was that she wouldn’t have the tattoo removed. Whenever she felt like she was shriveling up again, she’d look at the Celtic knot and remember feeling a hundred percent female.

  Chapter Three

  Declan couldn’t believe his rotten luck. Morrigan had to be behind this. Nothing had gone right today and he was beginning to feel a little desperate.

  First, he’d gotten to Ciara’s hotel just in time to see her and her friend hop into a taxi with their suitcases. He’d grabbed the next cab to the airport while wracking his brain for a way to casually run into her there. Would she believe he just happened to be leaving at the same time as her? Especially if he didn’t have a ticket or luggage?

  That had turned out to be the least of his worries because she’d been in such a rush, she hadn’t even noticed him getting out of the cab behind her. Then, before he could accidentally bump into her, she was through ticketing and in line for security.

  Since he didn’t have a ticket, he couldn’t get in line behind her. Not that it would have helped because the security line had actually moved rapidly for the first time known to man. That alone was enough to convince him that Morrigan had a hand in all of this. There was no way anyone would have that smooth of a trip through the airport without divine intervention.

  Declan had returned to his hotel and checked out of his suite before heading back to the airport. He remembered Ciara saying something about being from Connecticut and not handling the New Orleans heat very well.

  Luckily, there was only one airport in Connecticut, so he bought a ticket on the next flight up north. Unfortunately, that flight didn’t leave for hours and he had too much time to think.

  How was he going to find her when he got up there? There was a definite pull from his curse mark, but it wasn’t like a GPS. He couldn’t just wander around the state following a vague feeling in his chest.

  And how would he explain his presence there when he did find her? Hello, stalker? Any woman with an ounce of self-preservation would freak out seeing someone she’d hooked up with in New Orleans suddenly show up on her doorstep.

  He’d either have to come up with a really great explanation or tell her the truth.

  He was so fucked.

  Ciara’s thoughts drifted to Declan for the hundredth time that day and it was only noon. The food in the hospital cafeteria where she worked was usually pretty good, but today she had no appetite. All she could think about was Declan.

  Damn it, why couldn’t she just let it go? It was the 21st century for heaven’s sake. A woman had every right to have a one-night stand and not turn it into some grand romance. Why did she have to overthink this?

  “Ciara? I thought that was you over here by yourself. Mind if I join you?”

  Ciara’s heart dropped to her stomach as her ex-husband stood a little sheepishly by her table. Yes, she really did mind if he joined her.

  “Please, sit down.” Conflicting feelings still rolled through her every time she saw Michael. Sometimes she missed the closeness they’d shared at the beginning of thei
r marriage, but she never wanted to deal with the coldness and isolation he’d treated her to at the end ever again.

  “Great. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Just wanted to see how you were doing.” Michael was the consummate salesman and usually oozed charm, but today he seemed a little awkward. “You look good. Have you been to the beach or something? You have some color in your cheeks.”

  “Leigh and I went to New Orleans for Labor Day weekend. It was hot down there even for September.”

  He looked startled for a second before he covered up the reaction. “New Orleans? Really? That seems a little wild for you.”

  “It was time for me to have a little fun in my life.” Okay, that was mean, but he deserved it. How dare he give her his disapproving frown when he was the one who used to tell her to loosen up all the time?

  After her night with Declan, she’d realized just how boring her sex life with Michael had been. And for once, she didn’t blame that on herself. He could have put a little more effort into getting her off instead of just making sure she was wet enough for him to get inside for two minutes of thrusting before he collapsed on top of her. Hell, by the end of their marriage their sex life was so regimented it had felt more like one more chore to check off the list than an expression of love.

  Michael looked like he was at a loss for words. She should mark it on the calendar. It had to be a first. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for him to rally.

  “So, are you settling in to the apartment? Do you need anything from the house?”

  “I’m fine. There’s nothing I want from there.” Including you. “What are you doing at the hospital anyway?” Michael was a pharmaceutical salesman but he dealt mostly with doctors’ offices, not hospitals.

  “I had a call at an office nearby and thought I’d grab lunch here.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, yes and no. I wanted to tell you before you heard it from anyone else. Anna’s pregnant.”

  A shaft of pain slammed into her and she couldn’t think straight.

  “Congratulations. That was fast.” They’d only been divorced for six months. They’d spent the last two years of their marriage going through fertility treatments.

  “I know. We were using protection too. After everything we went through, I wondered if I could even father a child.”

  The unspoken, “But I knew it was all your fault,” lay on the table between them.

  She reached for her coffee with shaking hands.

  “Is that a tattoo? You got a tattoo?”

  “Yes, in New Orleans.” God, why wouldn’t he just leave? Emotions spun inside her like a blender on overdrive. Anger at how he still blamed her for her sterility instead of supporting her, bitterness at how he’d abandoned her and jealousy. Anna was young and beautiful and apparently very fertile.

  “Wow, you really have changed.” He paused for a second as if considering this wild side of her he’d never seen before moving back to himself—shocker. “Hey, do you want to see the ultrasound? I have a copy. You can see the head and arms.”

  She’d rather have hot needles poked in her eyes.

  “I—”

  “Ciara? Is that really you?” Declan’s deep voice rolled over her like melted chocolate.

  “Declan? What are you doing here?” Her bones turned to water and she could feel herself flush. What did you say to a man whose body you knew intimately, but not his full name?

  He leaned down and kissed her briefly. Sparks shot from the light brush of his lips against hers. Instantly, every muscle of her body that had been clenched tightly with the stress of dealing with Michael softened and turned to mush. Her heart fluttered as she got lost in his cobalt blue eyes.

  “Who’s this?” Michael stood stiffly, his hands clutching his laptop case.

  She stood so fast, she almost knocked over her chair. “This is—”My one night stand? A guy I met in a bar? Hell, she couldn’t even remember his last name.

  “Declan Donaldson. Ciara and I met in New Orleans this weekend. When a business partner of mine invited me up to Connecticut for a meeting, I couldn’t resist looking Ciara up. And you are?”

  “Michael St. John. Ciara’s husband.”

  “Ex-husband!” Ciara found her voice. How dare he say he was her husband after he’d just finished telling her how he knocked up someone else. Jerk.

  Declan shot her a heated look that curled her toes. “Thanks for clarifying. You had me nervous there for a second.”

  “So, Declan, what is it you said you do?” Michael asked.

  “I manage investments for clients all over the world.” He paused to play with the end of one of Ciara’s curls. “It was great to meet the fool who let a gem like Ciara slip away, but I’m wondering if you could excuse us for a moment?”

  Ciara almost snorted the sip of coffee she’d taken. How about that? She was a gem. Who’d have thought it?

  Michael started to argue but his cell phone rang. When he turned to answer, Declan took her arm and eased her around a large planter off to the side.

  “Sorry to just barge in like that but you looked like you could use a bit of rescuing. I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds.”

  “Not at all. It was a perfect interruption.” Ciara didn’t know what to do now. How did you handle meeting up with the guy you fucked mindlessly and then left without a word the next morning? Unconsciously, she rubbed the tattoo.

  An arc of energy that was practically visible shot between them. Declan let out a groan and grabbed her wrist.

  “Well now, what is this?” He brushed his fingers over the tattoo and heat roared through her, lodging between her legs until she was sure her panties were soaked.

  She cleared her throat and tried to marshal her scattered wits. “I was hoping you could tell me. I don’t remember going to a tattoo parlor, but this was here when I woke up yesterday.”

  “It looks like there’s a lot we need to discuss.” He looked at his watch. “Unfortunately, I have to get back to my meeting with my client now. Do you think we could get together for dinner later tonight?”

  “Sure.” Her voice was husky. “There’s a great Italian place a couple blocks from here. I could meet you there around six if that works for you.”

  “Perfect. I’ll see you then.” He cupped the back of her neck and tilted her head up for a tender kiss. “And Ciara? The man was an idiot to let you go. Don’t let him put those shadows in your eyes.”

  Her jaw dropped as she followed his progress out of the hospital cafeteria. He’d only known her for one night, most of which had been spent naked and in the dark, and he recognized her emotional state better than Michael, who she’d been with for five years.

  Michael rounded the planter and nearly bumped into her. “Oh, there you are. Who was that guy, really?”

  “Someone I picked up in a bar,” she shot back without considering her words. “Oh, look at the time. I need to get back to the E.D. It was great seeing you.” Not. “Congratulations on your baby. I know it’s something you’ve always wanted.”

  She escaped before he had a chance to respond. For some reason, she’d agreed to have dinner with Declan, and that was a much more pleasant thing to ponder than Michael’s impending fatherhood.

  Chapter Four

  It seemed ridiculous to drive to the restaurant when it was only a few blocks from the hospital parking garage, but Ciara didn’t want to have to walk in this area after dark. It was one thing to go to the local Italian place for lunch or for a drink after work with a bunch of people, but the neighborhood was a little sketchy. Even walking from her parking spot down the street had her jumpy.

  “Ciara! Hold up!” Declan called from half a street behind her. “I’ve been walking for the last ten minutes trying to find this place. You didn’t give me a name so I couldn’t tell the cab where to stop.”

  She waited for him to catch up. That was weird, she’d looked around when she’d gotten out of the car because the area made her nervous and she had
n’t seen anyone. Maybe he’d just turned the corner?

  “I’m sorry. I’m not even sure I know the proper name. We always call it the Italian place. I didn’t think to give you the address.” She’d been so bemused and befuddled from seeing him at the hospital she was surprised she’d regained her ability to speak at all.

  “No worries. I had the cabby drop me off near the hospital and headed this way. I figured I’d find it eventually. Although, it’s not the most picturesque part of town, is it?”

  “I’m afraid not. But the food is good and it’s conveniently close to work so we go to it a lot.”

  “What exactly do you do at the hospital? I don’t think I ever asked you.”

  No, they’d been too busy exploring each other’s bodies to discuss past history. The memory sent a flush of heat through her, tightening her nipples and dampening her thighs. Just walking next to him, occasionally brushing against his long, lean body had every sense on alert. It was like something inside her recognized him as the perfect fit for her.

  She tried to unscramble her brains so she would sound at least slightly intelligent, but most of her energy was being taken up by her hormones jumping up and down, screaming, Now! Take me right here, right now!

  “I’m the secretary for the Emergency Department. It’s not exactly as glamorous as being a nurse or a doctor, but the benefits are good.” And boy, had she ever needed good health insurance with the cost of fertility treatments. “How did your meeting go?”

  “It was—optimistic. I’m not sure if this venture will be successful but—”

  Before Declan could finish his sentence, something rammed into her from behind, slamming her to her knees on the rough sidewalk. Her purse was yanked against her shoulder, but because she had it looped diagonally across her chest, it dragged her to her side.

  A man in a black baseball cap held the strap of her purse in one hand and a knife in the other.