Moonlight Warrior

by Janet Chapman

  She wanted to argue, but she knew he was right. And since she was cold and he was putting out more heat than a woodstove at full roar, it wouldn’t kill her to lie in his arms for a while.

  And maybe, if she was really lucky, she would wake up back in her bed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Despite being utterly exhausted and feeling almost drunk from the burl medicine, Kenzie couldn’t seem to fall sleep. He knew the pen Matt had made for him would keep them safe from the wickedness embedded in the storm. And his wounds were healing and his strength would return soon, thanks to the burl made from the Tree of Life that Daar had been hoarding since losing his powers.

  But, Eve was keeping him awake. Just thinking of her battling the storm to find him made his blood run cold. She had to have been terrified, yet she hadn’t turned tail and run like a lot of supposedly brave men he’d seen on the battlefield.

  Her fearlessness both humbled and terrified him.

  He wanted her more than ever. She felt so delicate and vulnerable in his arms, yet she trusted him enough to fall asleep despite all she had seen and heard tonight. What he wouldn’t give to make love to her, to be able to claim her as his.

  Kenzie sighed as he felt the burl mending his wounds, his muscles slowly relaxing and his eyelids growing heavy. There was no more powerful drug than the magic, and he could think of nothing more right than sharing it with Eve tonight. He’d been granted his wish of dying one last time as a man, but he’d been so many different animals for so many hundreds of years, he’d forgotten how deeply a woman could stir his senses.

  And so it was with the yearning of a man too long alone, Kenzie finally fell sleep holding Eve securely against his heart.

  When Eve opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was an impressively solid chest just inches from her nose. Right—she wasn’t in her bed; she was on the ledge in a raging storm, plastered against a man whose gorgeous body should be outlawed in all fifty states.

  Acting on impulse, Eve pressed her lips to Kenzie’s chest.

  His arms around her tightened.

  Encouraged, she touched her tongue to his nipple.

  His chest expanded on an indrawn breath.

  So far, so good—he wasn’t pushing her away or protesting. There was something rather provocative about pestering a man in his sleep—especially one whose body made her fingers itch to touch it. But since he was holding her so tightly, the only thing she could reach was his…his…

  The moment she wrapped her hand intimately around him, Kenzie rolled on top of her and covered her mouth with his.

  And Eve lost all control of the situation.

  Her dream man pinned her hands over her head and spread her thighs to nestle intimately against her as she rubbed her naked body provocatively against his.

  Sliding her legs up the length of his, she kissed him back. When he finally lifted his mouth, she opened her eyes to find him staring at her so intensely, an alarm bell went off in her head. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all—he appeared downright…focused.

  With one hand holding both of hers, he gently trailed his other hand over her cheek and down her neck, his gaze following its sensuous journey.

  Eve shivered in delight, the alarm bell turning to a crescendo of anticipation as to where that hand was headed. When he gently closed it over her breast she gave a soft cry of approval, then cried out again when his thumb brushed her nipple. She arched into his touch, using her legs to pull him more intimately against her.

  He took her nipple in his mouth and suckled, and Eve freed her hands to knead his powerful shoulders. He made a raw sound, moved on to her other breast as he poised himself against her entrance, and flexed his hips.

  His maddeningly slow invasion started the alarm bell faintly ringing again. But seeing how his tongue was doing such wonderful things to her nipple, Eve stroked her hands down his back to cup his buttocks, and pulled him deeper with a moan of pleasure.

  He wove his fingers through her hair to position her head for another assault on her mouth, and swallowed her gasp when he seated himself fully inside her. He drew back and she gave a moan of protest, but he returned to thrust even deeper.

  Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, Eve nearly wept at how hot and solid and amazingly good he felt so deep inside her. She must have sounded more distressed than joyous though, because he brushed his fingers through her hair, kissed her forehead, and soothingly whispered something in Gaelic.

  Eve sucked in ragged breaths as he returned to his slow, deliberate thrusts, which turned her boneless as she opened to him, then gently wound her into a coil of sexual tension.

  He lifted himself up, every muscle in his body humming with barely controlled restraint. And with his gaze locked on hers, he reached down between them and stroked her intimately, at the same time increasing the tempo and depth of his surges.

  Eve suddenly shattered into a hundred million pieces. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she bucked into his thrusts, shouting his name as waves of molten pleasure shot through her.

  He went utterly still, threw back his head with a masculine groan, and pulsed deep inside her.

  Though he was careful not to crush her when he collapsed, she still had to take shallow breaths because of his weight.

  After he finally stirred and slipped out of her, he settled behind her and spooned them together. Then he growled something that sounded like “mine” as he cupped her breast and pulled her tightly against him.

  Mine? Was that Gaelic for good lay, or maybe thank you? Or had he been speaking English?

  Should she say something?

  Eve reached down and patted his thigh he’d thrown over hers. “Mine,” she repeated, imitating his burr.

  He gave a grunt as he tightened his hand on her breast, then started gently snoring.

  Eve’s mouth curved in a grin, which turned into a gasp. They hadn’t used any protection!

  How could she have been so dumb? It was Human Nature 101: when a naked man wakes up to find a naked woman fondling him, hot, passionate lovemaking will ensue!

  Her body still tingling with lingering pleasure, Eve stared at the shadow of their entwined bodies on the rock wall. Talk about facing an awkward morning after—what should she say to Kenzie when he woke up?

  Should she point out that they hadn’t used protection? Or should she say nothing at all, and hope he thought it was just an erotic dream?

  Ha—what were the chances he wouldn’t remember having delicious, mind-blowing sex?

  And when he realized they hadn’t used protection, would he blame her? She had started it, after all. He’d merely gotten her out of her wet clothes, wrapped her snugly up in his wool plaid and warm body, and very chivalrously gone to sleep. It certainly wasn’t his fault she couldn’t seem to keep her hands off him.

  Please let this be a dream, she silently pleaded, listening to the storm slowly retreat as mysteriously as it had arrived.

  But as the first hint of daybreak finally crept over the horizon, Eve knew nothing about last night had been a dream. She had definitely made love to Kenzie Gregor. And his strange wood burl and glowing pen and sword were all very, very real.

  Kenzie woke up to find a very naked Eve spooned against him, his hand cupping her breast. For the first time in more years than he could remember, he flushed like a young boy caught touching something he had absolutely no business being near.

  Thank God she couldn’t know what he was thinking, because the remnants of his drug-induced dream lingered so strongly, he could practically taste the sweetness of her lips on his. His need to feel her surrounding him had been so great, he felt as if the dream image of their lovemaking was real.

  “Are you awake?” he asked softly.

  “Mm-hmm.” She remained as still as a statue.

  He knew she wasn’t moving because she was mortified. In fact, he’d bet his best dagger she was blushing all the way to her toes.

  He removed his hand from her breast. “Eve
, I’m sorry about last night, but we needed to stay warm.” He hesitated, but she didn’t respond. “I was exhausted, and it was like I was drunk or something. I’m sorry I manhandled ye to undress you.”

  She still said nothing.

  He sighed. “I imagine Mabel and Daar are worried about us. I’ll turn around so you can get dressed, and then I’ll help ye up the cliff and get you safely headed home.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  “I have to find Curaidh first.”

  He gently hugged her to him. “Thank you for coming after me last night, Eve,” he whispered against her ear. “It was amazingly brave of you. You likely saved my life.”

  She seemed to be holding her breath.

  It was quite possible she was still in shock about all that happened last night. It wasn’t every day that a modern witnessed the magic firsthand, and rarely both sides of it at once. Dark magic could be terrifying to the hardiest of souls, and people often preferred to deny what they couldn’t explain. As for what she might be wondering about the burl and his pen…at least she knew there was a powerful counterbalance to the darkness, and on which side he and Daar stood.

  She shifted as if testing his grip. He released her and rolled away, sitting up to face the gently swelling ocean. As she scrambled to put on her clothes, Kenzie wrapped himself in his plaid while trying to decide how to explain the magic to her.

  Or if he should at all.

  Maybe it would be wiser to wait until she broached the subject. Or maybe he should ask Greylen and Grace MacKeage to come for a visit, and let them talk to her. They’d had plenty of experience explaining the magic to several modern sons-in-law.

  “I’m ready,” Eve said.

  Kenzie grabbed his sword and stood up, biting back a curse when he saw how dirty and torn her clothes were. He picked up the scabbard to his sword, slid the blade into the leather, then settled the harness over his shoulders to ride on his back.

  He wanted to roar. He had come to care for Eve far more than was wise, but they were from two different worlds. And though he was trying to adapt to this one, he knew Eve might never be able to adapt to his.

  He bent down to pick up the jar of milk and bag of cookies, and saw the thick cream floating on the top—a grim reminder that if he ever did ask Eve to love him, she would try too hard to adapt. She was one of those all-or-nothing women, and if she loved a man, she would give him everything or die trying.

  And in his line of work, that was a very real possibility.

  Kenzie tucked the cookies in his plaid, then opened the jar and drank the milk.

  Eve’s eyes widened.

  He held the jar out to her with a smile. “Want some?”

  She quickly shook her head.

  He finished off the milk, then held the jar out to her. “Put this in your pack. Wrap the blanket around it so it won’t break, and don’t forget your little flashlight.”

  He turned toward the ocean as she scrambled to obey him, whatever courage she’d had last night seeming to have deserted her this morning. He didn’t like seeing her this way, but considering what horrors she must have witnessed trying to find him, he did understand. And he knew she’d eventually find her courage again, because when push came to shove, Eve Anderson didn’t know the meaning of cowardice.

  Kenzie studied the ledge they were on, his blood running cold when he saw the sheer drop to the ocean. How in hell had she made it up here in the dark, in the middle of a storm?

  “That was quite a climb you made last night,” he said.

  She leaned forward enough to look over the ledge, then immediately pressed back against the granite, her skin turning white.

  It was a good thing she hadn’t been able to see where she was going last night. He scanned the granite on both sides of the ledge, then decided they’d be better off climbing up than down. He pulled his pen out of the crack where he’d wedged it, clicked it off, and tucked it in his belt.

  He moved to the left, found a promising route, and held out his hand. “I want you to go up ahead of me.”

  When she hesitated, he took the backpack out of her hands and lobbed it up over the top of the ledge. Then he pulled her in front of him, grabbed her waist, and lifted her up. “Start climbing,” he told her, letting go as soon as she got a toehold. “I won’t let you fall.”

  She scrambled up the ledge like a billy goat, and by the time he reached the top she was slipping the backpack over her shoulders as she studied the destruction around them. Branches littered the ground, and whole trees had been uprooted. The heavy rains had created deep gouges in the soil, even displacing rocks.

  “I don’t remember much of what happened last night after you found me and put the burl around my neck. But did you say someone threw rocks at you?”

  She glanced at him in surprise, then looked away. “It must have been a landslide,” she said, heading inland to avoid the deep fissures the rain had carved into the bank.

  He followed, looking around for Curaidh, occasionally giving a whistle and calling out in hopes the horse was near. There was a good chance the stallion was standing outside the barn, waiting to be let in his stall.

  Or lying dead under some tree, or floating in the ocean.

  When they reached the path leading into the bushes, Eve suddenly stopped, apparently hesitant to go any farther.

  Kenzie vaguely remembered her saying something last night about a bogeyman trying to kill her. He moved past her into the low-growing spruce and alders. “I’ll walk ye back,” he said. “With luck, maybe Curaidh is home.”

  He heard her sigh of relief as she fell into step behind him, and he cursed under his breath when he saw how she kept scanning the bushes, as if she expected something to jump out and grab her.

  Dammit, he wanted his smart-mouthed Eve back!

  When they reached the dooryard, she ran ahead of him and disappeared into the house.

  Daar came outside and made his way toward him.

  “Thank God she found ye in time,” the old priest said, falling into step as Kenzie headed to the barn. “Curaidh came back about an hour ago. I let him in his stall. He’s got a gash on his right flank, but other than that he seems fine. Did ye send that old hag back to hell where she belongs?”

  Kenzie stopped with his hand on the door handle. “She’s a lot more powerful than either of us anticipated, and she’s very angry that I’m helping William. I’m afraid we haven’t seen the last of her or her minions. Unless Killkenny can lift the curse himself, this won’t be over until either he’s dead or I am.”

  “Why won’t he just listen to you?”

  “Because he’s hardheaded and too goddamned proud to lower himself to do what he must. He considers opening his heart to anyone to be a sign of weakness, and he’d rather remain cursed than appear weak.”

  “Then have your brother send him back,” Daar growled. “And let us finally be rid of the blackguard. Ye can’t help someone who isn’t willing to help himself, and he’s putting us all in danger. The old hag nearly killed ye last night!”

  “And Eve,” Kenzie said, looking toward the house. He lifted the pine burl off and handed it back to Daar. “Thank ye for sending this to me, and for the pen. I only wish you hadn’t gotten Eve involved.”

  “I had no choice.” Daar gave Kenzie a rare smile. “She obviously met the challenge.”

  “Aye, but at what cost?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eve nearly ran over Father Daar as she rushed to get inside. Her mother spun around from the counter with a cry of relief and hugged her fiercely.

  “Oh, Evangeline, I’ve been so worried. This has been the longest night of my life.” She stepped away, wiping her eyes with her apron. “I knew you probably wouldn’t be back until morning, but I kept picturing all sorts of terrible things. Daar kept telling me to quit fretting, but he was just as nervous.” She took hold of Eve’s shoulders to inspect her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Mom. I don’t think I have a s
cratch on me.”

  “And you obviously found Kenzie in time.” Mabel squeezed her shoulders. “I’m so proud of you, Evangeline, for going out in that storm like that. Did you see William? Did he lead you to Kenzie?”

  “No, I can’t say that I saw him,” Eve said, stepping away to shrug out of the backpack. “Thanks for thinking of the headlamp, by the way. It came in quite handy,” she said, turning to hang her slicker—which had more than one tear in it—on the peg.

  She turned back to her mother. “I think I’m going to take a long hot bath and go to bed. As you can imagine, I’m a bit tired,” she added with a forced smile.

  “Sorry, you can’t take a bath yet. The electricity’s still out.” She waved at the counter. “I kept busy last night by turning all that cream into butter, but now I need water to rinse out the buttermilk before I mold it into blocks. Daar said if I don’t, it will turn rancid.”

  Relieved that her mother wasn’t asking questions about last night, Eve looked in the three large bowls. “Good Lord, how much butter did you make?”

  “There must be eight or ten pounds there,” Mabel said, coming up beside her. “Daar also explained how to cook the buttermilk I don’t use with oats to feed to the piglets. That man is a veritable fount of information.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Eve said, covering a yawn with her hand. “I’ll just go straight to bed, then. You should try and get some sleep, too, Mom. The power will come back on soon.”

  “Where’s Kenzie?” Mabel asked, glancing toward the door.

  Eve stopped in the living room doorway. “He’s out looking for Curaidh.”

  “But the horse showed up here over an hour ago. Daar just opened the barn door and he ran straight into his stall.”

  “Then I’m sure Kenzie is checking him for injuries.”

  “Was Kenzie very badly hurt when you found him?”

  “Um…I didn’t see a scratch on him this morning.”

  “Thank goodness,” Mabel said, taking off her apron with a sigh, suddenly looking very tired. “Everything turned out well.”