by Donna Grant
“I think Ronnie is having second thoughts of being here.”
Ramsey squeezed the bridge of his nose. “This is what Wallace wants. He wants to fracture us. He wants to make the Druids doubt their lives with us.”
“Isla hasna said anything about children, but I see how she looks at little Emma, I remember how she held Aiden when he was an infant.” Hayden sighed deeply. “The fact she hasna said anything cuts me deeper than if she had. I just want her to be happy.”
“She is,” Arran answered. “She’s with you. You may see how she looks at Camdyn and Saffron’s baby, but we see how Isla looks at you. You, you stubborn fool, are her entire life.”
Hayden’s frown turned into a goofy grin. Ramsey gave a nod of approval to Arran. “He’s right, Hayden. Isla has no’ said anything because it does no good.”
“You’re probably right,” Hayden said and lifted his mug for a long drink. “Arran was correct. It’s different for those of us who lived the four centuries without any evil. All of us considered growing our families, but we knew what awaited us in the future. We saw how Quinn and Marcail constantly fretted over Aiden.”
Ramsey nudged Arran’s foot beneath the table to get his attention. “Why do you think Ronnie has changed her mind?”
“She seems restless. I rarely see her smile anymore. And at night when she thinks I’m asleep, I hear her cry.”
Ramsey looked around the hall. One of their greatest strengths was the love each of them shared. Had Wallace managed to do the unthinkable and crack what was unbreakable?
“Next time, idiot, reach for her instead of listening to her,” Hayden told Arran.
Ramsey found Tara standing in the kitchen doorway. Her pale brown locks fell in waves over her shoulders. She nodded to something someone said, and then her blue-green eyes turned to him. She smiled, and as usual, his heart missed a beat.
“How are things between the two of you?” Arran asked.
Ramsey drew in a long breath. “Tara is afraid to have children and pass on her unstable magic. Mixed with my magic from my Torrachilty roots, there’s no telling what could happen if the child is female.”
“Ah. But if it’s male,” Hayden said. “Tara’s magic is diluted several times over, and no’ a direct line to that potent magic as yours is. We could have another powerful Druid.”
Ramsey looked down at the table, the wood worn smooth from centuries of use. “You didna see what became of the females who tried to control the magic. It’s fifty times more powerful than what our Druids are used to. It’s addictive and wonderful. We were known as the warrior Druids because it took a warrior’s control, strong mind, and even stronger body to harness the power. I’m no’ saying women can no’ do it, only it’s more difficult for them.”
He paused when he felt Tara’s magic near him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “That, lads, is the reason we won’t be having children. The Torrachilty people did what they had to do, but I’m not willing to kill my daughter just because she’s born a girl.”
“You could help her harness the magic,” Hayden said. “Look at Larena. She’s strong. You’re strong.”
Ramsey smiled at Tara. This is a conversation they’d had many times. He respected her thoughts on it, and he agreed with them.
He pulled her into his lap and held her tightly. Together they were whole.
“No,” Tara said. “None of you realize what I grew up with, the damage I did because I didn’t know what I was or what to do with my magic. Even if we were able to teach our daughter, the chances of her going insane from the sheer power of the magic is too great a risk. I was given Ramsey. That’s enough,” she finished and looked at him.
Ramsey’s blood surged with need. At Tara’s smile he stood with her in his arms. “You’ll have to excuse us. I need some alone time with my wife.”
Arran watched Hayden silently get to his feet and walk to Isla. After a few whispered words, the two started up the stairs.
It didn’t take Arran but a second to locate Ronnie in the kitchen. He stood and walked into the kitchen to find her with her hands and front covered in flour.
She lifted her head when he walked in and gave him a smile. “I’m learning to bake a cake.”
He strode to her and pulled her into his arms for a deep kiss. She melted against him, her arms sliding around his neck. His body burned for her. It had from the moment he’d first seen her, and it would until his heart beat its last.
Arran ended the kiss to see her lips swollen and her eyes dazed. “Let someone else bake the cake.”
Ronnie nodded. “Yes. Someone else can bake the cake.”
Arran took her hand and quickly led her up the stairs to their room. When the door closed behind him, he turned and pushed her against it while covering her body with his.
“I want you.”
“I know,” she said with a laugh as she reached between them and wrapped her hand around his arousal.
“Nay, Ronnie, listen to me. I want you. Always you. It’s enough for me, but I’m no’ sure if it’s enough for you.”
She blinked her hazel eyes, the smile sliding from her face. “You’ve heard me crying.”
“Aye.”
“It’s not what you think, Arran. Before you my work was my life. I knew the chances of finding a man and having a normal life weren’t for me. That meant no children.”
“You doona want bairns?”
She put her hand covered in flour on his chest over his heart. “I’d love to have your children. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, as you said, we have each other. And that’s enough for me.”
“Then why the tears?”
“Because I know others aren’t all right with that. Larena for one. She’s barely holding it together. She’s obsessed with finding the spell to bind your gods.”
Arran pushed a lock of her wheat-colored hair behind her ear. “And you?”
“I’ve told you what I think of it,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. “I fell in love with who you are now. If you want to live as a mortal, then I support that. If you want to remain a Warrior and continue to fight against evil, I’ll be standing beside you. Either way, Arran MacCarrick, you’ll not be rid of me.”
“Never,” he said and kissed her slowly, thoroughly. He heard the seams rip as he yanked off her apron, but her sigh was all the encouragement he needed to divest her of her clothes as soon as he could.
Their laughter filled the room as they helped each other out of their clothes and fell in a tangle of limbs upon the bed.
Arran ran his hand down the side of her face. “I love you beyond words, beyond meaning … beyond anything, Ronnie.”
“And I love you, husband.”
They shared a smile as he kissed her again.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Phelan stood on the porch and leaned his hands on the railing as he looked out over the loch. The evening had been wonderful. The most perfect evening he’d ever had.
Dinner had been a simple affair of steaks, bread, and carrots. Turns out Aisley has a particular hatred for carrots. Phelan smiled as he recalled her story of how her parents made her eat her helping of carrots when she was six.
He and Aisley had talked of nothing and everything. Phelan noted how careful she was not to bring up her past or much about herself. She didn’t ask questions of him either.
Not that he had anything to hide. There wasn’t any kind of pressure to dazzle her with witty conversation or do one of his many tricks to seduce.
Phelan couldn’t remember the last time he had such an enjoyable meal. The desire for her never dissipated. To his chagrin, it grew.
The brush of their hands as he’d passed her the wineglass singed him, causing a bolt of something primal and urgent to zing through him.
Phelan inhaled a breath of Scottish air and looked up at the moon. It was full, its light glowing like a beacon in the sky. The clouds drifted in front of the moon, causing a faint
haze to appear like a ring around it. The real beauty was how the moonlight hit upon the clouds, outlining them.
It was nearing midnight. Aisley had been asleep for a couple of hours. Already Phelan had checked on her twice. Each time it was more and more difficult to leave her room.
How easy it would be to climb in bed beside her and arouse her body while she slept. By the time she woke, she’d be in such a state of need that she wouldn’t turn him away.
“What have I come to?” he asked himself in a soft whisper.
An owl hooted from a nearby tree in answer.
Phelan needed something to cool his lust. He briefly thought about a swim in the loch but didn’t want to be that far from Aisley. He opted for a cold shower instead.
He straightened and entered the house. He tugged off his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans by the time he reached the bathroom. Phelan shut the door quietly before he quickly removed his boots and jeans. Only then did he turn on the water.
He stepped into the shower and gritted his teeth as the cold water hit him. It did very little since he hardly felt the cold thanks to his god.
Phelan put his hands on the tiled wall and let his chin drop to his chest as the water fell down his neck and back. He looked at the floor of the shower, suddenly thankful it was six feet long, since he had a suspicion he’d be spending the night there.
* * *
Aisley stared at the ceiling, one hand over her forehead and the other across her stomach. She hadn’t lied to Phelan when she claimed exhaustion and went to bed. At the time she couldn’t keep her eyes open.
It wasn’t long after she fell asleep when the dream that had plagued her for months returned. Except this time Phelan was doing much more than kissing her.
His hands, his big, calloused hands were caressing her body. Touching her in just the right places, making her moan and squirm with need.
She’d woken just before the orgasm.
After that, sleep had been far from her mind. The last time Phelan had come to check on her, she had almost asked him to stay.
He wanted her. She could see the desire in his eyes. Mostly he tried to hide it, but it was there. What she couldn’t understand was why he hadn’t made a move toward her.
At the club two months ago he hadn’t taken no for an answer and kissed her before she knew what was happening. Today he’d treated her with kid gloves. Almost as if he expected her to break at any moment.
The worst part was when she told him she’d heard the voice in her head whispering her name. Instead of asking her questions about who it could be, he’d simply gotten to his feet and began to talk about dinner.
Just when she thought she understood Phelan, he changed. No matter how he kept her mind in knots, her body knew what it wanted.
Him.
She looked to the door when she heard the shower turn on. He was still awake. The question was, did she have the guts to go to him?
Aisley sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs, which she’d drawn up to her chest. It had been years since she’d slept with anyone.
She imagined him naked in the shower, the water running over his tall, muscular form, and her mouth went dry.
Without another thought Aisley threw off the covers and rose from the bed. She opened her door and walked to the bathroom. There was a moment’s hesitation when she placed her hand on the doorknob.
Her lips tingled, reminding her how much she had enjoyed his kiss. That’s all it took to give her the courage to open the door.
But being in the bathroom was altogether different than stepping into the shower with him.
Aisley watched his silhouette through the shower door as he stood still as a statue. She drew the shirt over her head and slid her panties down her legs.
* * *
Phelan knew Aisley was in the bathroom. He’d felt her magic come toward him as soon as she left her room. He held his breath, waiting to see what she would do.
And then the shower door opened.
His gaze clashed with hers as he straightened. He might have seen her in skimpy clothes at the club but nothing prepared him for the sight of Aisley nude.
Phelan let his eyes travel down her face to her dark-tipped nipples and full breasts to the narrow indent of her waist and her flared hips. His balls tightened when he saw her lean legs and the triangle of black curls hiding her sex.
His gaze jerked back to her face. A silent question lurked in her eyes. There was desire and need, but a hint of fear as well. Not fear of him, but fear of rejection.
He held out one hand to her and turned on the hot water with his other. As soon as her hand was in his, Phelan gently tugged her into the shower, her free hand pulling the door closed behind her.
It seemed like an eternity since he’d last tasted her lips. No longer could he wait. He drew her against him, turning her to push her against the shower wall.
Her soft sigh at the first brush of his lips against hers was nearly his undoing. He wanted her too desperately. He was on the brink of spilling his seed, and he had just touched her.
Phelan cupped her face in his hands, angling her head so he could kiss her. He slipped his tongue past her lips and her fingers clutched his shoulders.
He deepened the kiss and felt her body shudder. With the water running around them, Phelan couldn’t stop touching her. He cupped her breast and ran his thumb over her nipple.
Aisley tore her mouth from his, her chest heaving. “Please. I need…”
She trailed off as he stared at her. Phelan kissed her jaw and then down her neck. “What do you need, beauty? Tell me.”
“You. I need you.”
He looked at her, the truth shining in her eyes. This wasn’t how he wanted to make love to her for the first time, but neither could he deny her.
Phelan gripped her hips and lifted her until her legs wrapped around his waist. Her arms wound around his neck while her fingers delved into his hair.
Normally Phelan knew what his partner needed or wanted. He knew neither with Aisley, and it didn’t matter. His heart pounded like a drum in his chest while his blood burned hot with a hunger like no other.
He held her above his cock as he looked down to watch their bodies join. Dimly he heard her suck in a breath. Phelan squeezed his eyes closed at how tight and wet she was.
Inch by agonizing inch, he filled her. Her nails dug into his neck. Her legs tightened and tugged his hips closer to her, urging him onward.
When he was fully seated, Phelan opened his eyes to find Aisley with her lips parted and watching him.
“More,” she begged.
He smiled and bent his head to take one pert nipple in his mouth. She moaned as his tongue teased the turgid peak mercilessly.
She rocked her hips, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. Phelan lifted his head and pulled out of her before thrusting deep.
A soft cry fell from her lips. But Phelan wanted so much more from her. He wanted her screaming, her body no longer her own.
Again and again he plunged within her taut channel. Faster, harder, deeper. The more she took, the more he gave. He pounded her body, claiming it as his own, even if she didn’t know it.
He took her lips in a kiss meant to claim. He plundered her mouth, their tongues dancing together just as their bodies were.
As soon as he felt her body tighten, he stopped moving. She was so close to climaxing that he could’ve had her peaking a few strokes after entering her.
The longer the pleasure was held off, the stronger the orgasm. Inwardly Phelan smiled when she tried to move against him. He held her still with his hands on her hips.
“Please,” she begged breathlessly.
He began to move again, slowly at first and then building to a rhythm.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered in his ear. “Please, don’t stop.”
He had every intention of doing just that until he heard her breath hitch. Then she screamed his name, her body convulsing around his cock with such force that with
one more thrust he climaxed as well.
For long minutes, they remained as they were, under the water, foreheads touching.
Phelan lifted his head to see her eyes closed. Gently he pulled out of her and sat her on the teak stool. Then he grabbed a sponge and lathered some soap.
He began washing her arms then moved to her shoulders and chest. When he came to her breasts he took extra time, making sure each one was thoroughly washed.
It was the smile on Aisley’s face that made something move in his chest. Phelan quickly washed the rest of her, and then pulled her to her feet to wash her back.
Only then did he turn her to face him. He lathered his hand with soap and gently washed away his seed from her sex. His cock stirred when she rocked her hips against his hand.
He rinsed her, but before he could open the shower door, she had the sponge in her hand. Phelan looked into her eyes, wondering what such a beautiful woman was doing with him.
Her hair was plastered to her head as she scrubbed the sponge over his chest and arms, and then turned him around to do his back.
She made quick work of his butt, and then turned him once more. Aisley knelt in front of him and began washing his legs from the feet up.
Phelan fisted his hands at his sides, refusing to move the closer she came to his cock. When she finally touched him, his rod jumped in response. Her gaze flicked to him.
“I’m no’ through with you yet,” he told her.
A small smile played about her lips as she washed his cock, now fully aroused once more. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. After rinsing off in record time, he shut off the water and opened the shower door.
Phelan stepped out, but when she tried to follow, he lifted her in his arms.
“I’m capable of walking, you know.”
He shrugged. “I like carrying you.”
“Are you afraid I’ll change my mind and run off again?”
“The thought has crossed my mind,” he said as he shouldered open the bedroom door.
“Put me down,” she demanded.