T is for Temptation

by Jianne Carlo

  Alex suffered a similar fate, and when they caught up, a glaze shadowed his blue eyes. He’d lost his shirt in the melee, and a slash of red cloth crisscrossed his bare chest.

  “Christ, we’re in trouble,” he muttered. “These men are bored, Jake, and they’re itching for a brawl.”

  “Did you see where Tee and Tiny went?”

  “No. He’s got her? That’s good.” Alex dragged a hand through his wind-mussed hair. “We need a safe spot, a place where we can strategize. Someplace far away from this lot.”

  “There’s always the castle.”

  Both men stared at the wide arched entrance to the building. Massive oak double doors guarded six terraced stone steps. They ran the length of the structure and curved into a semicircle reflecting flickering shadows.

  “And the fiancée. Crap, you realize we’re riding a fine line here.”

  “Blasted hell, I’d give my left nut to get Tee back to safety.”

  “You may have to.”

  “May as well get this over and done with.” He grimaced. “With me?”

  “Always.”

  They trudged up the stairs.

  Grabbing the enormous iron handle in the middle of the door, Jake hesitated, squared his shoulders, and shoved it open. He took one step into a cavernous room with a domed ceiling lit by evening dimness, the kind of shadowy half-light, which made distance perception hazy.

  As if it mattered.

  One impenetrable line of eight colossal males armed with massive glinting silver swords and wearing identical acrimonious expressions barred further movement.

  “This is the famous Ferguson heir? Weaponless?”

  The statement came from an older man with white hair. He stabbed an enormous jewel-handled sword into a wooden table, folded his arms over his chest, and narrowed his ice-drenched brown eyes.

  “Never wanted a weapon more in my life,” Alex muttered. “Preferably a stack of Uzis.”

  Jake studied the quivering sapphire- and ruby-encrusted weapon and clasped his arms behind his back, letting the turkey leg fall onto the stone floor.

  “Impertinent puppy,” the man roared, his face contorted into a ferocious scowl, thin lips curling in derision. “Who is this?”

  The seven men at his side took a step forward. In unison, each man wrapped large hands over their swords.

  “Introductions in order,” Alex quipped.

  Right.

  “Laird Alex Mayfield, a colleague.”

  “Heir to my illustrious father, the duke.”

  Duke? Blast it, Alex’s warped sense of humor couldn’t pick a worse time to surface.

  All eight males studied Alex, grudging respect crossing their features.

  “The Undefeated Knight,” muttered one.

  “Pickle him,” the older man growled. A long stride brought him eye to eye with Jake. “My daughter, your betrothed, awaits your presence. ’Tis long past Beltane. Either handfast or marry. Choose.”

  “The laird can do neither,” Tiny’s low rumble came from behind.

  Jake willed himself not to jump or turn around at the surprise interruption. Out of the corner of one eye, he shot Alex a quick look, and read the silent message in Alex’s narrowed squint, wait.

  “Graham,” the man said, inclining his head. “You speak for your laird?”

  “Nay, for his da, who ceded Brodick to my control before starting his journey.”

  It took considerable effort not react to that statement. Jake cut to Tiny, wondering why the giant had come to his aid. A barrage of critical questions peppered his brain. Who was his father? And where had he gone?

  “His son and my daughter have been promised since birth. ’Tis time to seal the union. She is of age.”

  “Not until his da’s return.”

  His jaw clenched as he identified a nebulous undertone to the conversation between Tiny and the man Jake presumed to be Laird Ramsay. In an almost imperceptible motion, the line of warriors shifted a couple of inches closer. Who had the final authority at BrodickCastle? Tiny? Ramsay? His absent father?

  Tiny clamped a large hand on Jake’s shoulder blade.

  “For marriage, aye, but handfasting does not need formality. Prepare yourself. Tonight, before the meal, you and Kathleen will handfast.”

  “And consummate,” one of the brothers said. “With witnesses.”

  “Aye, we will hang the sheets for all to see.”

  “Tomorrow.” Tiny stated, his rumble, low, even, spoken as a command. “This evening we celebrate the laird’s return.”

  A silent eye-battle ensued, and Tiny stared the man down until he dipped his chin and grouched, “Done.”

  The staccato dialogue had Jake’s head spinning, the deal cut in less than thirty seconds. Tiny’s bargain bought him one day. One lousy day.

  “May as well get the lay of the land,” Alex muttered, not bothering to lower his voice. “Are we stuck with them for the whole evening?”

  “Your mouth relishes trouble, pretty boy,” Tiny uttered the warning without taking his eyes off the Ramsay front.

  “That does it. Let’s step outside and settle this once and for all.”

  Arms akimbo, Alex’s challenge wrung an affirmative growl out of Tiny.

  Jake shoved between the two bristling men.

  Their audience sniggered, barking encouraging comments.

  “Keep your cool, Alex. Tee, remember her?”

  “Crap. Sorry.”

  “Take us to her, Tiny.”

  “Aye. Follow me.”

  Eight pairs of eyes daggered Jake’s spine as they followed the giant though another set of doors. A fireplace the size of giant TV screens popular at live football games dominated the room. A huge cast-iron cauldron hung from sooty metal chains over a blazing fire, and the smell of cinnamon and apples swirled to his nose.

  Women, men, and children bustled about. Knives met stone surfaces over to the right, where a team butchered some animal, a large bird from its skeletal remains. One long table displayed dried grasses and withered flowers, and at another, a gaggle of women chattered and slapped dough onto a floured surface.

  Tiny weaved through the room, and in his wake, women sighed and stared, hands clasped to their chests. Then they caught sight of Alex, and a low murmur of appreciation swept across the room, twenty or so women mooning and swaying.

  “Come back, darlin’,” said a pink-cheeked, buxom young woman as she reached over to pinch Alex’s bottom.

  He grinned, winked at her, and returned the caress. “Later, I promise.”

  “I’ll take Tiny,” said another.

  “We’ll share,” the two said in unison, each the mirror image of the other.

  “Twins.” Alex rubbed his hands together. “Twins. Every man’s fantasy. Forget Tiny, ladies. I’ll keep both of you well occupied.”

  “Hell and damnation.” Frustration laced Jake’s growl louder than he intended. “Blast it, man. Now’s not the time for your prick to take charge.”

  “Sadly, you’re right. Get us out of here, Green Giant, before I succumb to these lovelies.”

  “What did you say?”Narrowed aquamarine eyes fixed on Alex.

  “Stop it. You two are acting like dogs slavering over a bitch in heat. Take me to Tee, right now,” Jake ordered.

  With a final glare at Alex, Tiny shrugged and ushered them down a wide hall, into a narrower one, and out of the castle’s rear. A few twists and turns later, and they re-entered the building from a hidden door.

  He led them up five flights of steep stairs. They arrived at a mahogany door turned ashen by a thick mass of cobwebs.

  “No one’s been through this door for some time. Tee can’t be here.”

  Tiny’s sly smile chased Jake’s suspicion threshold to cliff point. A back of the eye-socket headache sprouted, he knuckled the spot.

  “This is the fairy addition to Brodick.”

  “Huh?”

  A familiar shadow crept over Jake’s brain, and, in that instant,
he knew the truth behind Tiny’s subtle insinuation. “I think he means fairies built this portion of the castle. Am I right?”

  “Aye. Seemed fitting to house your witch here, where she’ll be safe from the Ramsays. They do not know of this section.”

  “I smell roses and, yep,” Alex said, dark pupils widening, lips curving, “cupcakes. She made more of those. Thank you, God.”

  “Maybe she has more of the MacDonald fare as well. Those little potato sticks and the thing she calls a milkshake.” Tiny’s stare veered into the distance. “Nay, those other buns with the meat.”

  He left the two of them musing about food and discussing what items to request from Tee. Halting in front of the door, Jake studied the brass handle.

  She’d refused to move in with him.

  He’d never planned to ask her, should be grateful she said no. The word clogged his throat, fogged his lungs, clouded clear thinking.

  As the door eased open, he straightened and marched into the room to find Tee fast asleep on a modern-day bed with a high mattress, curled around a soft pink pillow, lashes casting shadows on rosy cheeks, elegant features softened in repose.

  His witchy woman.

  The devil’s sweetest temptation.

  He did want in, in the most tortuous way.

  Edging onto the soft mattress, he aligned his body to her relaxed limbs, content to follow the rise and fall of her chest, see the pulse throbbing in the magnetic hollow of her throat, study a tawny strand as it fluttered on her cheek.

  Somewhere along the line, his sexual obsession with Tallulah Inglefield had morphed into this, this what? He couldn’t, maybe didn’t want to, describe the emotions she forged in him. It made him weak, needy, and under her control.

  Buying her flowers, asking her to move in with him, signs of her power.

  “Did you bewitch me, Tee?” he whispered, almost to himself. “Set me free, if you did.”

  “Jake?” Her amber-rimmed eyes peeped up at him. “Are you all right?”

  “Great,” he said. And in that instant, life indeed grew bright and shining and full of promise. He traced the curve of her shoulder, running a finger up her long, slender neck to her mouth.

  She kissed the tip of his finger and took it between pearl teeth.

  From tenderness to raging hard in less than two seconds, he stifled a groan.

  “How about you? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Her breath smelled of chocolate.

  “Jake?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “How does it work?”

  “You touch me, and I’m hard.” Busy nibbling on her ear, all defenses shattered, he dragged one of her small hands to his cock.

  “Sometimes, all it takes is the smell of you, especially here.” Jake touched his tongue to the sensitive hollow of her throat, where her pulse throbbed.

  “Stop. Please. I want to say something.”

  She planned to break it off. Panic lit him.

  “No, no talking. It’s been three days.”

  “If you still want me to, I’ll move in.”

  A dinosaur stomped on his chest. Nothing worked—words, thoughts, breathing. Nothing. Jake closed his eyes, and his mind played the words. Thank you God, thank you God, thank you God.

  One hot palm traced the length of him, and the caveman in him, the one who roared victorious licentiousness, rioted. “I bought a house.”

  Jake trailed his hands under her skirts, up her thighs, and found her sex bare, moist, heated.

  “I’m going to explode the minute I’m inside you.”

  “I’ve been dreaming about the way you feel inside me,” she murmured. “Please? Now?”

  She fumbled with his pants and he helped, freeing an erection so rampant, it twitched and jerked. She stroked him, and he caught her hands.

  “No, don’t. Too ready.”

  Mouth open, he possessed hers, hands bunching her skirt up to her waist. Rubbing his cock against her bare pelvis, her hot mound, he cupped her bottom cheeks, and thrust into her tight sheath, instant orgasm threatening. Lifting his head, he panted, and gripped her hips when she wriggled under him.

  “Stay still. Don’t,” he paused, and stared at her, his mouth curving as her eyes glazed over, and her inner muscles contracted around his cock, wringing and releasing. He growled, “You’re coming, my sweet witch, you’re coming.”

  A breast brushed his cheeks, and like a nursing babe, he nuzzled for it and drew the whole tip in, tongue rapacious, cock voracious as she milked him, clenching and covetous muscles wringing his hardness.

  Angling her hips, he drove deeper and hit a spot that squeezed an oh my from her swollen lips, and he kissed her. Sliding his tongue in and out, accelerating his stroking rhythm, as her hands clutched at his waist, and she arched to meet him thrust for thrust.

  “Oh me—uh my,” she mewled.

  He nabbed a pillow and shoved it under her firm, muscled rump.

  “Another,” he coaxed. “One more.”

  One arm coiled around her waist, the other reached between Tee’s leg’s, and he rubbed soft circles, relishing the honeyed cream drenching his fingers, the scent of her musky arousal filling his nostrils

  “Oooooh mmmmy.” Her high-pitched squeal commanded his mouth, breaking it into a dizzy, foolish grin. Pre-orgasmic oblivion chased thought away, his pounding penetration the sole focus of life. Driving in and out of her heat over and over, until his testicles tightened, and sperm burst from his cock in burning spurts. Somewhere in the back of his mind as he collapsed, Jake counted another oh my.

  “Oh my,” she whispered and kissed his shoulder.

  Unable to speak, he cupped her chin and brushed his lips over one eyebrow. When breathing no longer required effort, he rose onto his forearms and examined her face. Flushed cheeks, reddened mouth, the amber in her eyes glowing satisfaction, and a lick of prideful, swaggering machoness slapped him into adolescent territory.

  “Four,” he said.

  “Pardon me?”

  “I like those too, but the oh my’s, those are the clinchers.”

  Every inch of her exposed flesh pinkened, and he liked that too, he realized. What not to like about an exotic witchy woman who’d agreed to move in with him? The thought prompted another. What had changed her mind?

  “I’m almost afraid to ask.” Her eyelids fluttered. “Four?”

  “When you climax, you squeal, ‘oh my.’ Four, this time.”

  “I do? Oh…my,” she whispered. “I do, don’t I? Oh, how embarrassing.”

  “Sexy, hot, anything like that. Never embarrassing, nothing that happens in our bed is embarrassing. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “You’re blushing again.” Unbidden, his finger trailed the color as it deepened. “If you don’t like the house, we can shop around for another one. I imagine you’ll want to fix it up, decorate it, so we can live in my condo until it’s ready.”

  She shuttered her eyes and shifted under him.

  “Unless you have other ideas?”

  The anxious silence pervaded his sated brain.

  “Tee?”

  “I’m sure your house will be more than adequate.”

  “What’s wrong? Why are you lapsing into your polite cocktail conversation mode?”

  “Pardon me?”

  Ouch. Fire blazed in the amber, and those luscious lips tightened. He stared at her angled chin, and realized his tempestuous and temperamental Tee’s mood had done an about-flip.

  “It’s your house, your responsibility. You bought it. You can decorate it.”

  His thickening erection waned.

  “Forget the house. This isn’t about the house. What’s bugging you?”

  “Nothing. You got what you wanted. I’m going to move in with you.”

  “I got what I wanted? It isn’t what you want?”

  Damn it, why pursue the issue? He had gotten what he wanted, but blast, she should want it too, be as eager as him. All women
liked decorating, spending money.

  “I’ll provide the funds, if that’s what’s bothering you. I don’t care how much you spend.”

  “No,” she said and shook her head. “I can’t do it. I was wrong to agree to it. It’s never going to work.”

  A roar in the hallway drowned the rest of her words.

  “Jake, Tee. Break it up. You have two minutes to get decent, and then I’m coming in.”

  “This isn’t finished,” Jake gritted, his thoughts splintering from the blow her words delivered.

  Complete, strained quiet ruled their rushed dressing. Her temper vanished, replaced by a sad, defeated slumping of shoulders, and she looked about to cry.

  Before he opened the door, Jake surrendered and gathered her into his arm, cradling her chin. “Don’t cry.”

  He thumbed her tremulous mouth. “I can’t fix things unless you tell me what’s wrong, Tee. Tell me.”

  Her swimming brown eyes met his.

  “I’m never teary. I hate it. I feel pulled every which way with all these changes. You’re asking me to move to another country, to leave everything that’s familiar.”

  “Blast. I didn’t think of it from that viewpoint. Tell you what—let’s not make any decisions now. Let’s agree to find a way to be together and figure out our options. I can fly down on weekends until we decide. Deal?”

  “That assumes we’ll find a way back.”

  “We agreed on that too, remember?”

  She nodded.

  Alex burst into the room, followed by Tiny.

  “We’ve a crisis looming.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “It seems your parents are on their way to Brodick.”

  “And?” A muscle under Jake’s eye twitched.

  “As in a messenger appeared with a note. They could arrive at any moment. We have to do something.” Alex’s cobalt gaze shifted to Tiny. “Disappear, Green Giant. The laird and I have legal issues to discuss.”

  Grazing a thumb over his chin, the giant’s scrutiny swept the three of them, and his aqua eyes seemed to hold a question.

  “What, Tiny?”

  “’Tis perplexing, the lack of joy to see your mother and da after these many years.”