PerpetualPleasure

by Dita Parker

  “Don’t wander off now.”

  Hypnotized by his voice and fixed stare, and not a little intrigued by whom he was calling, Lucie froze. “Okay.”

  He placed the call. “Hey, it’s me. Whoa, what do you got there, a circus?” He listened intently for a moment, gave a laugh and commiserated before saying, “Put the birthday girl on.”

  Lucie stole a glance. He was smiling at her. Or maybe at something he heard over the line.

  “Hi, sweetie, happy birthday. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, are you having a good time?”

  Lucie wouldn’t have said he was crooning, but his voice took on a tone she hadn’t heard before.

  “Chocolate cake? Hmm, my favorite. Sure. Real soon, I promise. When I get back, okay? Wanna know who I met here? A queen. Did too, the queen of Savannah. She’s really nice. Yes, pretty too.” MacCale winked at her. “I don’t know but I could ask her. Sure. I promise I will. Now put your dad back on, okay? Bye, sweetie, have fun.”

  While whoever was on the other end went for her father, MacCale said to Lucie, “Em wants to know if you have a crown or a tiara, being queen and all, and if you do, could I take a picture of you wearing it? She loves the princess stuff and the stories.”

  “Great.” Lucie threw her hands in the air, part in jest, part in earnest. “Another young mind infected.”

  “You bet,” he said emphatically. “I enforce it every chance I get. Every girl should believe in true love.”

  “And Prince Charming?”

  “Especially Prince Charming,” he said.

  There it was again, that odd marshmallow-soft, sweet tone.

  “Or Princess Charming, whichever way they roll.”

  And then it struck her. “Oh my god, you’re a romantic. You do know it doesn’t really go with—” Her hand motioned to the general direction of where the heavy athletics competition had taken place before sweeping his length from head to toe. “This.”

  “What do you mean it doesn’t go with—” His hand flailed, mimicking hers. “This. It’s the twenty-first century, remember, and I’m a modern man. I don’t think my dick will fall off if I show nurturing tendencies. Things have changed since you came of age, Lucie. Didn’t you get the memo?”

  Before she could think of a suitable comeback, he was drawn back to the phone conversation. He answered questions regarding the Games and asked after someone named Hannah before wrapping up the call with promises of a speedy return.

  He’s leaving. Of course he would, eventually.

  Dropping the phone into the sporran hanging below his belt, he turned his attention back to her. “So. Does your highness own a tiara? I really wouldn’t want to disappoint my goddaughter.”

  His goddaughter? Em. Ah, Emily, his niece. She thought Hannah had jogged her memory. Hannah, his sister-in-law.

  She gave a slow nod. “I may have something she’d approve of. For what it’s worth, I think you were absolutely adorable on the phone. You’ll make a great dad someday.” And some lucky woman happy to have him.

  “God, I hope so. I can’t wait. I want three at least. You wouldn’t wanna help me out with that?”

  “What?” Her mind drew a blank.

  “You know what they say. Practice makes perfect. Wanna help me practice, the making part?”

  “Now?” Her gaze did a take of the grounds. “Here?”

  “You know what else they say?” He nuzzled her ear and whispered, “No time like the present.”

  Scandalized and severely turned-on, she hissed, “You want to fuck here?”

  “I want to fuck you everywhere. Live a little, Lucie,” he teased her.

  “Oh, I have. A lot.”

  “Have you, really? Is there anything you haven’t done?”

  Fallen in love.

  “When was the last time you had sex outdoors?” he rasped.

  Her mind glazed over. She must have at some point in time, surely.

  “People tend to remember if they have. It’s been a while, huh?”

  “Guess so,” she admitted.

  “I would love to make love to you outdoors, baby. Under the skies with nothing but the wind and water looking on.”

  Moving the pouch at his waist to hang on his hip, he pressed his groin against her stomach. The thick ridge of his erection drew a gasp from her.

  “Oh but you’d love it too.” His breath fanned her neck, sending shivers running all over.

  “You’re not beat?” He’d been at it for hours. He couldn’t possibly have any energy left for sex.

  “Too beat to make love to you? Never. But do we need to talk about last night first?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about, Mac. Or forgive. Really.”

  “Prove it,” he demanded. “Walk with me. Help me pick out some souvenirs.”

  What? The picture he’d painted in her mind of sex in the wilderness fading fast, Lucie tried to focus on his turnabout.

  Souvenirs? Okay.

  No. “I can’t leave.” She motioned to the tables. “I’ve got to—”

  “Go.” As good as shooing her away, the ladies of the Genealogical Association gestured for her to take a break. “Go on now. We’ll watch over your things.”

  Heat crept into her face. How much had they heard? Judging by their expressions, they hadn’t missed Mac’s easy touches or the way he had as good as plastered himself to her.

  And she hadn’t done a thing to evade or stop him.

  “Go.”

  Nodding at the women, Mac said, “Thank you, ladies. Much appreciated.”

  Out of excuses, Lucie let him take her hand in his and lead her down Clan Row in the direction of the market stalls.

  “What are we looking for?” she stammered, slightly shocked by how easily he took charge over the situation and a whole lot disturbed by the fact she wasn’t doing anything to fight him. Again.

  “Something for Em,” he said. “She’ll sulk for a week if I go back empty-handed.”

  “You’ve spoiled her, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Sounding very happy with himself, he flashed her a mischievous smile. “And Hannah sulks for a week when I do.”

  “Hannah?” Lucie feigned ignorance but only managed to sound jealous.

  “My sister-in-law. Better get something for her too.”

  They sounded like a close-knit family. She’d never known the pleasure of having a sibling. She’d never known her aunts, uncles or cousins. It had to be nice to have so many people to count and lean on.

  A group of children in costume darted toward them, shouting over each other. Mac’s smile tightened as the laughing litter ran past them.

  “I don’t want to be an old dad, but I’ll hit forty in four years and unless I find a woman I can interest in settling down with me, I will wake up at forty, single and childless.”

  What woman with a pulse wouldn’t be interested in him? He was sexy and secure in his manhood, he was gentle yet intense, and he was dynamite in bed. But there was something either in him or his lifestyle that was holding him back or scaring women away. Deflecting the urge to find out what that something might be, Lucie said, “So you get to come and go and do as you please. It really doesn’t sound so bad.”

  He squeezed her hand briefly. “It does when you dream of a wife and family. I love spending time with Em but then I have to hand her over to her parents and, more often than not, I really envy what they have, and that’s so unfair. They deserve every happiness.”

  Shrugging off the ache in her chest caused by the heaviness in his voice, she said, “I’ve done fine on my own for the last two hundred years.”

  Shooting her a glance, he shook his head. “I don’t believe for a second you’ve never thought about it.”

  Lucie rolled a shoulder. “I don’t waste time on things I can’t have.” Before he could comment on that, she stated, “You knew I’d be here.”

  “When you mentioned the Games, yeah, I knew I’d see you again.”

  Was that why he had left
so abruptly and without a fight? So she had as good as shown him the door, but he hadn’t been his insistent, tenacious self when she had.

  “Why do you keep coming back?” he suddenly asked.

  To him?

  “To Savannah,” he said.

  “It’s home. Where I was born and raised. She’s my anchor. The more things have changed, the more the town’s spirit has stayed the same and I need that. I need that anchor, a place where people value things just the way they are. Not the way outsiders tell us they should be.”

  “I’m not an outsider,” he reminded her. “Depending on how far along you are in your research, you may know my family history in this town is longer than yours.”

  It was true. After his lands had been confiscated in the aftermath of the Scottish Rebellion of 1715, one of his ancestors had come to Savannah in 1736 with the city’s founding father, General Oglethorpe. That was over a decade before she had been born.

  “This isn’t your birth town.” That much she knew.

  “I can’t be inexplicably drawn to her all the same?” he asked. “Wouldn’t it be odd if we’d met when I was a boy?”

  “Creepy is what it would have been,” she said. “I would feel like even more of a cradle robber.”

  Without missing a beat, he said, “I thought you said you were twenty-six.”

  “Going on two hundred.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure you said twenty-six.”

  “Okay, I have over two hundred years more experience than you then.”

  “I have a feeling there’s plenty you haven’t tried out. And a lot you’ve forgotten what it feels like.”

  Oh god, how right he was.

  Again.

  And she had thought she was the one with the keen intuition. That sixth sense now told her to run for her life. Walking beside him, her hand in his, talking freely and enjoying his company and her day, Lucie couldn’t bring herself to do it. She let him lead her slowly past the colorful stalls boasting everything from foodstuff and pottery through clothing and Highland accessories to knives and swords.

  Finally, MacCale stopped in front of a jewelry stand. He greeted the woman packaging something for another customer and zeroed in on some Celtic silver pendants. Too bad she’d always preferred yellow gold. The intricate designs were truly beautiful.

  “Do you know anything about these?” he asked, clearly undecided.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do the designs represent something, mean something?”

  “They sure do.” The woman attending the stall now free to help them joined the conversation. “Are you looking for something specific?”

  “I’m thinking something related to motherhood and fertility.”

  The woman gave Lucie a quick glance. She wanted to explain it wasn’t for her but the woman had already turned back to MacCale.

  “Oh I have just the thing.” She turned the display stand and presented him with a pendant, a simplistic female figure holding her legs with a gaping hole between them.

  He looked it over but handed it back with an apologetic smile. “Maybe something a little more…subtle.”

  Nodding and smiling warmly, the saleswoman put the pendant back. “The goddess is ancient but not for everyone. How about this?” She turned to another stand and picked up a sleek, more modern-looking pendant she held up for them. To Lucie, it looked like a tiny sculpture of a woman holding her hands above her head as if holding on to the necklace, the triangular chevron design where her hips and legs should have been skillfully done. And yes, definitely more subtle a gift for a sister-in-law.

  “It’s lovely,” she said.

  “I’ll take it,” Mac said. “Could you gift wrap it for me, please?”

  The woman moved to wrap it up, MacCale following to pay for the present. Lucie stared at the ancient goddess they had first looked at.

  That’s me. One gaping hole of a woman. Just like me.

  All pussy. No heart.

  “Lucie?” MacCale was looking at her curiously.

  God but she was pathetic. “Yeah?”

  “I’m gonna look at something for Em next. You still game?”

  “Sure,” she sighed, pasting on a smile. “Any ideas?”

  “Maybe something from the kids’ armory she could play with together with my brother?”

  “Okay. This way.”

  Lucie breathed in the scents floating from the grill as they strolled back toward the shop they had passed once already.

  “Have you eaten?” MacCale asked. “Can I get you something? Haggis and grits?”

  “Yes,” she lied, “no,” she refused his offer, “and absolutely not, thanks. I’m more of a hot dog kind of lass.”

  “Good to know,” he said, as they parked in front of the children’s armory.

  Having no idea what Mac was looking for, Lucie stood by as he picked a bow and arrow set and two wooden swords.

  Handing her the bow and arrows, he balanced one sword and flipped it from palm to palm. It looked ridiculously small in his big hands.

  “Screw Ronnie. Em and I are playing with these.” His smile was boyish.

  “And you’re teaching her how to use them instead of having her wait on her rescuer.”

  “I am?” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

  “Yes you are. It’s the 21st century. Didn’t you get the memo?”

  “Touché,” he said and committed stage suicide by stuffing the sword between his arm and waist, his throat gurgling with death grunts.

  Lucie elbowed him. “Stop goofing around, you big oaf. You’re scaring the wee ones.”

  Saluting the children who had stopped to stare at his over-the-top performance, he straightened his body and his face and went to pay for the items.

  “Better get you back to Clan Row before the ladies start thinking you took me up on my offer.” He wiggled his brows.

  “Oh god, you don’t think they heard us?” she hissed.

  “I think I argued a strong nonverbal case. Would you care one way or another if they had?”

  “No, of course not,” she snapped, annoyed at how easily he shook her poise. She was behaving out of character again. Totally slipping out of character, dammit, and it was all his fault.

  “I know it’s cool out here but I’d keep you warm, Lucie.” Shopping bags in one hand, he hooked her elbow with the other. Leaning into her, he lowered his voice to a near whisper. “I would finger you silly, lick your pussy like a lollipop, and if you came on my mouth like a good, naughty girl, I might be tempted to fuck you. Would you like that, baby? You seemed to enjoy it the first time. My hands all over you. My tongue working your slit. My dick dripping with your juices, so far up your sweet, sweet pussy—”

  “Stop. Just…stop, Mac, please.”

  “Why? I thought you liked a little dirty talk. You certainly said a mouthful when—”

  “Forget what I said,” she groaned. When she’d tried to play him. Was that what he intended to say?

  “Okay. Just don’t ask me to forget what we did.”

  “There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you.” Boyd Ferguson approached them in a brisk walk.

  “Saved by the bell,” Mac grumbled through his teeth.

  “Lucie,” Boyd greeted her. To Mac he said, “The award ceremony is about to begin and I want you there with me. But first things first. Put down those bags. I want to take a picture.”

  A picture? A picture of whom?

  Mac promptly set aside the souvenirs, straightened his clothing and snatched Lucie to his side. Before she could decide whether she wanted to be in the photograph, Boyd had the camera at the ready.

  “Mac?” she whispered.

  “What?” he glanced down at her.

  Too late.

  “Aww, that was lovely. Thank you,” Boyd said. “Now we really need to be going. I hear the pipes already. Would you like to join us, dear?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t. But you two lads go ahead.”
/>   “Very well, dear. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  She gave Boyd a peck on the cheek as he hugged her briefly.

  Mac picked up the bags. “About that picture. For Em. If it’s not too much trouble, could you take it? I could come pick it up—”

  “No. I mean, I’ll take it but you don’t have to bother. I’ll have it sent to Boyd’s, no problem.” She most certainly couldn’t have him coming anywhere near her house. It would only end up bad. In bed. With her demanding he do what he had suggested.

  “Okay. Thanks,” he said, his tone bright and maybe a little on the tight side. “It was good seeing you again, Lucie.”

  It was the second time they were saying goodbye. Would this be the last? The thought pained her more than she cared to look into.

  It was good seeing you too. She wouldn’t say it. She settled for a forced smile and a teasing tone that came no more easily. “Goodbye, Mac. Tell Em the queen wishes her a belated happy birthday and that if she ever visits Savannah she is welcome to come have tea and cake. I have quite a collection of vintage clothes and accessories I bet she would love to play with. We could make a weekend of it, just the gals.”

  “Hogging my goddaughter?” he asked.

  Caught in the act, feeling like pouting, Lucie shrugged. “You started it with the whole queen of Savannah business.”

  “That I did. And we just might take you up on that. I’d score so many points with Em and give Ronnie and Hannah an amorous weekend all to themselves.”

  For a second he looked as if he wanted to say something more. What it was, she would never know. Boyd hollered for him to hurry up.

  “And that’s my cue.” Regret shone plain on his face. Or that’s what Lucie wanted to think she saw.

  “I’ll see you around,” he said.

  She sincerely hoped not. For her own sake, for his. Because if they did, heaven help them both.

  Chapter Six

  Lord, she was tired. Tired of working sixteen hours a day to make sure she slept like the dead only to wake up wearier by the morning.

  Lucie had taken out her journals. Thousands of pages she never bothered reading because she hadn’t forgotten the highs and the lows, the joys or sorrows. She could bring it all back as any mortal could.