T is for Temptation

by Jianne Carlo

  “You’re remarkably practical and amazingly accepting of all of this,” she said, fitting her elbows at her waist and opening her hands.

  “I’m a lawyer.” His mouth curved into that uneven grin, a rueful combination of flirtatious cynicism and boyish appeal. “That jacket?”

  “So sorry, I’ll get to work on it. Do you know, for the first time ever, my powers are proving useful?” She remembered a waterproof coat from a Land’s End catalog and visualized it.

  “I am getting better at this,” she said and halted when the jacket materialized in her hands. She straightened a crease in the fabric and offered it to him. “I think navy blue is a nice color on you. I tried to match your eyes, and it’s even monogrammed.”

  The little mare ceded to Brandy’s dominance and stopped at his side. After Alex shrugged on the coat, thanking her profusely, they resumed the path, rounded a hideaway bend, and realized they’d reached a destination of some sort, a wide, rocky beach.

  Waves pounded speckled sand bordering granite rocks throwing ocean spray into the air. A harsh wind intensified, mixing salty splatter with the gentle rainfall, creating circular splotches on the rough beach. The weathered coastline extended as far as she could see. A line of warriors stood beside their horses approximately ten yards ahead of them.

  Tee spotted a large ship with three tall masts, billowing white sails rocking under foam-crested, slapping ocean. With mounting reluctance, she nudged Brandy forwards, and the mare followed alongside.

  “I guess that’s our transport. At least sailing is the one sport I excel at.”

  “Alex, please don’t start with that tone. If you provoke a fight with Tiny, I’ll conjure stampeding horses at you.”

  “He started it.”

  “He has a sword, and he knows how to use it.” She said, narrowing her eyes.

  “I can take him with one arm tied.”

  “Heaven forbid I ever meet a logical man. Great. He has that look on his face, too.”

  “Pretty boy and the laird’s woman.”

  “Please, Alex. For me,” she pleaded when the giant turned to listen to a question from one of his men.

  “Nay, load the horses first.” Tiny Graham’s bellow made Tee’s heart stammer.

  His powerful thighs bunched as his long stride devoured the short distance between them. “Unless you’d care to load them magically, lass.”

  His sculpted features matched her vision of the perfect medieval warrior: high, curved cheekbones and aqua eyes shadowed by thick lashes shades darker than his shoulder-length, wheat-streaked lion’s mane. Hands stamped on lean hipbones, he spoke with easy nonchalance and complete confidence, charm masking an inherent arrogance.

  “You don’t seem afraid of me now.”

  “’Tis clear as a heavenly vision, lass. You’ve no evil in your soul. A gypsy witch who can whisper with such a mighty stallion.” He stroked Brandy’s flank, and the steed shuddered, leaning into the caress. “Your innocence shines like Apollo’s sun, but your temper reigns too often, the mark of Ares, perhaps. Besides the heavens and stallions, what else do you command?”

  “Pardon me?” Bewildered by this turnabout, the poetic flattery, a sudden charismatic tug as if he radiated a magnetic field, she ducked her chin to break their gaze, the discipline required to do so jumping electricity to every synapse. Tingling from hair roots to curled toes, she fought the reaction and studied the coarse sand puffing around Brandy’s black hoof.

  “I’ve a sudden urge to have a witch, a gypsy with wild hair and cat eyes, one who wears strange clothing and can stand like a fairy goddess on a steed’s back.”

  “Which direction?” The shout came from one of the other men.

  Tiny licked his finger and held it up. “A warrior gifted by the gods who owned a lass like you could defeat any enemy, conquer any land.” He cupped his hand around his mouth and hollered into the wind. “Trim the sails for north winds.”

  “You can’t own a person,” she snapped, even as his magnetism and blatant sexual aura did fluttery things to her stomach.

  “You’re wrong, lass. You can own a wife. I figure to court you. And the lads are right—you’re too bonny to live under the same roof as the laird’s betrothed, and that one has a vicious streak. She’ll force him to send you away. ’Tis my protection and my hand I offer, not a leman’s cottage, but the promise of your own castle, your own domain.”

  Tiny blew her a kiss, a grin playing with the corners of lush lips that promised ecstasy. Large hands spanned her waistline, thumbs crossing at her navel, and he lifted her off her horse, his touch gentle and reverent. She stumbled when those strong fingers fluttered across pelvic bones so sensitized, so scalded by their path, that her boots scuffed pebbles and sand into flight.

  Surprised into momentary paralysis, she titled her head up and met his turquoise gaze, somber and intent in contrast to his flirtations words and actions. Somewhere deep in her belly, a spark ignited.

  “Oh my,” Tee mumbled as a confused guilt forced heat across her cheeks.

  Jake snagged her from behind, dislodging the giant’s hand and locking his fingers at her stomach.

  “Blast it, that’s mine,” he growled into her ear and nipped the lobe with sharp teeth.

  A strange erotic thrill had her growing damp and sticky, and she squeezed her trembling thighs together, thrown into utter chaos.

  “Don’t touch my wife again.” The howling sea wind died, dropping away in an instant, and Jake’s snarl rang like a warrior’s horn warning of impending battle.

  Raking him, Tiny’s harsh features settled into placidity. “We set sail within minutes. Lead your horses to my men. Lass, will your stallion let others handle him?”

  “Yes, but tell them not to approach him without warning, and have gentle hands. He has a sensitive mouth.” She sighed. “On second thoughts, I’ll come along.”

  “She’ll be there soon,” Jake said and firmed his hold as if he suspected she’d attempt escape.

  As soon as the giant was out of earshot, he said, his voice a low rumble riding a fierce edge, “Why in blasted hell are you flirting with him? And I saw the way you grinned and blushed with Alex like some silly teenager.”

  “Let go of me.” She tugged at his fingers. “You’re the one with a damned fiancée waiting for you. I wonder how soon she expects to be married, don’t you?”

  BMWs & Big Macs

  “Tee, you can’t expect me to get this beast on that ship.”

  Alex’s grumbled comment fractured Jake and Tee’s edgy face-off.

  She shifted her gaze from Jake to Alex.

  He towered in front of them, rocking back and forth on his heels. A north wind whipped hair and clothing against them, its chill an icy burn. Alex reminded Tee of a Ralph Lauren beach ad for Polo aftershave.

  “The damned animal doesn’t like me. Look,” he said, holding out one arm. “See that bruise? It’s already purple. The blasted nag bit me.”

  And indeed, a semicircle of tooth prints shone through the blue-tinged skin between his wrist and elbow.

  “Ouch,” she said, crinkling her nose. “That must’ve hurt.”

  “Wonderful disposition my ass. Thank the lord above you didn’t conjure a foul-tempered creature. I’d be dead by now.”

  She shifted in Jake’s arms, testing his hold. He had a cast-iron grip around her waist, unbreakable without a confrontation, and they’d enough to tackle as it stood. She sighed and relaxed against his warm body. The testiness slipped away in the face of the comfort he represented.

  “I’ll load the horses.”

  “You’re a gem, sweetheart.”

  Tee shrugged out of Jake’s embrace.

  He allowed the action, letting her go in small increments and scowling with each release.

  “You’re reacting to all this with remarkable calm.”

  “Tee said pretty much the same thing earlier. Am I ever hysterical?”

  “No, you’re a blasted lawyer. And stop callin
g her sweetheart.”

  “Who crapped on your parade?”

  Jake and Alex didn’t even notice her departure once their bickering developed into a macho arrogance contest.

  She took charge of all the horses and led them to the short pier jutting out of a slate-bouldered promontory. Busied and bothered after coaxing the horses onto the ship, Tee avoided Jake for most of the short nautical journey. The rain held off, and a strong, brine-filled wind spit ocean spray across the boat’s bow. Dark clouds dotted the blue sky, and the sun, a watery ball, meandered between them.

  Tiny spent most of the trip on the ship’s wooden deck following her around.

  “So what kind of witch are you, lass?”

  He offered her a toasted crescent-shaped pastry.

  “How many kinds do you know?”

  She nibbled the crust and bit into a cube of beef covered in thick brown gravy, the taste spicy and creamy. The meaty aroma teased her nostrils and stimulated her appetite.

  “There’s old Gwyneth who lives in a cave on Goatfell. She’s a healer, and there’s young Megan, she sees the future.”

  He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear and ran a calloused thumb under the lobe.

  Sparks ebbed and flowed under the slight caress, and for a second, she wondered what he’d feel like. Inside. And stamped away the thought, horrified at betraying Jake, even though it was a momentary mental lapse and nothing but.

  “Don’t touch my wife, Tiny.”

  Guilt swamped every pore, and she welcomed his arms around her waist and leaned into the secure haven his touch evoked. When he locked his hands and rested large palms on her belly, she interlinked their fingers, fitting hers inside his.

  “You have a betrothed waiting at BrodickCastle, Laird. While a leman and a wife can live peaceably, ’tis not so with your betrothed. Not unless you’re willing to start wars. I’ve a mind to have a witch for a wife, a bonny golden girl with big brown eyes.” Hands clamped on his pelvic bones, he challenged Jake to deny the truth.

  “You can’t have Tee. She’s mine, and I’m your laird. Don’t you have duties to take care of?” Jake jerked his head at the masts. “Man the sails and all that.”

  Tiny shrugged. “Aye.”

  He stalked off.

  Jake sniffed Tee’s neck and nuzzled her skin, his tongue licking away any memory of Tiny.

  “Let’s not quarrel, babe. It’s been three long days since I’ve been inside you, and it’s driving me insane. And don’t listen to that blasted man. He’s trying to separate us.”

  His gruff words, uttered as if he’d like to rescind them, appeased the hurtful jealousy provoked by the mention of his betrothed.

  “You’re right. We should be working together. But, Jake”—she spun around and met his dark gaze—“you might not be able to stop the whole thing from happening.”

  “What whole thing?”

  Three tiny lines formed above his nose, and she gave into the urge and smoothed them, avoiding eye contact.

  “Marrying this fiancée.”

  “Are you jealous?”

  He tipped her chin up, and she studied the soft satin of his lips, remembering their feel.

  “You are.” Triumph laced the remark.

  Heat singed her flesh.

  “Of course not. Don’t be silly. You’ve never even met the woman. The notion is completely illogical.”

  He kissed her, a hard possessive capture of her lips, no tongue involved, and their foreheads met when he broke the contact.

  “I’ve recently discovered jealousy is not a rational emotion. For the record, I don’t like you flirting with other men. Tiny’s off-limits. So is Alex.”

  “I wasn’t flirting,” she said, and a scalding flash hit her cheeks as she remembered Tiny’s caress. “Tiny wants to marry me so he can solidify his powers.”

  “He asked you to marry him?”

  The shout proved more of an accusation than a question.

  He shook her shoulders.

  “And what was your reply?”

  A snarl this time, and if he intended to intimidate, it worked.

  “It wasn’t like that, I mean, um, oh, for heaven’s sake. We’re not even from the same time. This is so damned confusing, and I think I’m going to cry, and I never cry. You make me crazy.” She rested her forehead on his chest and let the waterworks spill.

  “Don’t cry, witchy woman, don’t.”

  Jake’s thumbs brushed away the tears, and his palms cupped her chin.

  “Christ, am I always going to be the one to break you two up?”

  “Go away, Alex,” Jake said, hugging her to his chest.

  Wooden planks creaked, and she guessed Alex rocked on his heels, a particular habit of his.

  “We have problems, I’m afraid.”

  Jake’s long sigh fluttered her hair, and somehow, she relaxed, even though the comment should’ve spurred anxiety.

  “What now?”

  “Apparently, feuding clans are awaiting us at BrodickCastle along with your fiancée and her family. And I’m referring to real feuds, not some Beverly Hills sideshow. As in armies.”

  “Wonderful. And what am I supposed to do about this?”

  “You’re the laird. You’re supposed to settle their dispute.”

  “Which is?”

  “No one seems to know. It started about three centuries ago.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Alex?”

  “Because someone else needs to worry. I refuse to be the only one.”

  “Go away.”

  He did.

  “Better now?”

  Jake tipped her jaw with one finger, and the tenderness in those Amazonian pools made her eyes mist even more.

  She nodded.

  “Okay. Time to set a few things straight. First, it’s the three of us against the rest. We stand together. Deal?”

  A silly smile curled her lips. When he wore that set, determined expression, she’d agree to anything. She nodded and snagged her lower lip to curtail its impudent behavior.

  “Second, we will find a way out of this. Agreed?”

  Another nod and the silliness shocked a giggle out of her. She cupped a hand to still the hysterical humor bubbling upwards.

  “Damn, I love it when you look like that.”

  Forever seemed to happen during their entranced gaze.

  “Put me down!”

  Reality surfaced, and they both swung in the direction of Alex’s frantic shout.

  “Oh my,” she said and fisted a hand over her mouth.

  “Blast, blast, blast.”

  One minute, Alex hung over the ship’s rail, suspended by Tiny’s brawny arms.

  Seconds later, he vanished, dropping like a downed cumulus-riding duck.

  She ran to the spot from which Alex had disappeared, gripped the wooden slat, and peered at storm-promised waves smacking foam against the ship’s hull.

  “How could you do that?” She ground out, raking Tiny from head to toe. “For crying out loud, we’re not even close to the shore.”

  Tee hoped the water felt warmer than it looked.

  Alex’s head broke through a white-capped swell.

  The expression on his face promised retribution, and his mouth curved when he spotted Tiny.

  “Oh my.”

  “We’ve no love for the English, lass.”

  “Alex’s not English.” Jake grunted as he draped a hand on her shoulder blade. “Don’t worry about him. He’s a strong swimmer.”

  “I can’t leave him in that cold water.”

  “Careful, babe. Better he swim to shore than risk using, you know.”

  “None of them seem to be bothered by what happened.” Tee protested, un-willing to risk Alex’s life. “I can’t leave his life to chance, Jake.”

  “Okay, let’s get away from this lot first.” He inclined his head to the group clustered at the bow of the ship.

  Once they reached the safety of the ship’s stern, Tee concentrated on rescuin
g Alex, and rather than risk any magic travel, she strengthened the ocean current pulling him towards shore. Jake’s body cradled hers, and one hand stroked her back in a soothing rhythm.

  “I’m done.”

  “What did you do?”

  She told him.

  “Are you sure it worked?”

  “Yes. Sometimes, I know. Other times…”

  He smelled so good. She rested the tip of her nose near the pulse beating at his throat and inhaled, drowning in the spicy patchouli aroma. All at once, she pictured tasting him, practicing that first chapter in the Perfect Blow Job book.

  “When I went back to Florida, I almost convinced myself it wasn’t real, that gladiators and Viking and rose petals’d never happened.” He stared over her head at the horizon and shifted, his charcoal pools meeting hers in a direct, engaged way, as if he wanted to emphasize a point. “Now, I’m in another century heading towards the property I inherited in 2007. All of a sudden, reality seems grounded in magic. Maybe in you.”

  “I, um, Jake?”

  Confused and scared and hopeful and horrified all at once, she didn’t know what to say. Her lungs expanded to bursting point making her chest ache.

  “I want in, Tee.”

  “In?”

  What? Where?

  Oxygen had left the planet.

  “Into your life. I don’t want a two-week affair.”

  Her fingertips tingled.

  “You don’t?”

  Idiot, idiot. Think. Brain, work.

  “Move in with me.”

  She stifled a sigh and stared at the laces of his shirt.

  “Pardon?”

  “Let’s live together. I want to wake up next to you in the morning, hold you in my arms last thing at night.”

  “Oh my.”

  Rose petals tickled her cheeks.

  “Is that a yes?”

  The comforting smell of chocolate baking cocooned the ship.

  “I thought you didn’t want a family.”

  Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.