by Donna Grant
Arran caught sight of him, his smile wide and his eyes bright. “Did you come to join us?”
Camdyn held back the growl that had formed in his throat. It was obvious by Arran’s attention that he was attracted to Saffron. Camdyn wanted to pound his fists into his face, plunge his claws into Arran’s chest.
Anything to make Arran go away.
“I’d throw this at him if I thought it would make him smile,” Saffron said as she nodded toward Camdyn.
Camdyn hated that her words bothered him so much. He might be morose, but he knew how to have fun. Didn’t he?
It was Arran who ended up answering her. “A Warrior’s idea of having fun, Saffron, is killing wyrran. And dreaming of killing Deirdre.”
She nibbled at her lip and smiled. “I can see that. But this is a new time for both of you. There’s a lot to do for entertainment. You both should give it a try.”
Before Camdyn could think to form an answer, the snowball in her hand was suddenly flying toward him. He could have easily dodged it, but she had tried so hard to catch him unawares, that he allowed it to hit him in the side of the face.
The next thing Camdyn knew both she and Arran were tossing the snowballs at him.
Camdyn ducked, a smile forming on his mouth as he worked his way closer to Saffron even as she tried to back away. He managed to reach her and wrap a hand around hers that was about to throw the snowball at him. He turned her so that the snowball went toward Arran instead.
They were all laughing by that time. And then it became Camdyn and Saffron against Arran. Snow began to fly relentlessly as Camdyn drove Arran back with Saffron helping.
Then the heel of Saffron’s boot hit a rock and she lost her balance. Camdyn reacted instantly and wound his arms around her as he turned them so he took the brunt of the fall in case there were stones below the snow.
He bit back a curse as he landed on several large rocks with his back. The same place Saffron would have landed had he not been there.
Camdyn rolled her over and smoothed back the hair from her face with his hands. Her tawny eyes blinked up at him, surprise still on her face.
Whatever he’d been about to say vanished from his mind as his body realized he was cradled atop her softness, one leg nestled between hers. He clenched his jaw to keep from moaning. His hardening cock was pressed against her hip, and there was no way she didn’t feel him.
Camdyn’s gaze lowered to her lips. Instantly he remembered how incredible her lips had felt beneath him, how marvelous it felt to have her respond so quickly to his touch. And how astoundingly fast his own body had reacted.
His head lowered toward hers. Nothing, he told himself, could stop the unimaginable hunger he had to taste her lips again, to breathe in the moonlight and snow smell of her.
To hear her moan in pleasure. For him.
He wanted her with a passion that surprised and frightened him. He yearned to make love to her again and again, if only to get her out of his blood.
Surely that’s all it was. It had been a while since he’d had a woman. He just needed to find a willing wench. One who would make him forget the intoxicating feel of Saffron in his arms.
Arran’s footfalls as he rushed up broke through the desire that had surged in Camdyn.
“Is she all right?”
Camdyn looked into Saffron’s eyes and saw the passion there. His balls tightened, and he was thankful Arran was with him or he would have given in and kissed her. Again.
“She’s fine,” Camdyn said as he jumped to his feet.
He held out his hand to her, but she took Arran’s instead. For some reason that rankled Camdyn so that he again wanted to punch Arran.
“You’re reckless,” he told Saffron. It was a ridiculous thing to say, but he had to do something to release the need and frustration inside him.
She raised a light brown brow. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”
“I said you’re reckless,” Camdyn repeated. “Your life is so short, so easily stamped out. You could get a cold from being out here, or hit your head on one of the stones beneath the snow. Your life would be over in an instant. You’re reckless.”
“Reckless?” she repeated, her voice low and her eyes staring at him with deadly intent. “Well, forgive me, Mr. High-and-Mighty. Maybe I should apologize for not being immortal or having powers to heal myself like other Druids, but I won’t. I know better than anyone how short a life can be. Lest you forget, I was kept prisoner for three years. So, yes, I might be reckless, but it’s my life to live. Mine!”
Camdyn opened his mouth to try and calm her, once he realized he might have overstepped, but she talked over him.
“People catch colds all the time. People break bones all the time. People die all the time. It’s part of life. And if I want to be reckless with my life, I’ll be the one to pay the consequences.”
She started to walk off when Camdyn took hold of her arm and pulled her to a stop. Her body vibrated with anger, but he could see the hurt in her eyes. Hurt he had caused.
“I’m sorry. I’ve never been verra good with people.” Camdyn released her arm and started toward the castle.
What was it about Saffron that sent his world spinning? He wasn’t one who ever lost his cool, yet with Saffron, that’s all he seemed to do.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Somehow Deirdre wasn’t surprised to find Declan on her mountain. The stones let her know the moment he and his men set foot in her domain.
Deirdre commanded the stones to open the hidden door and waited. She smiled as Declan and his men reached the door and looked inside.
“Deirdre,” Declan said with a lazy smile and his blue eyes crinkling in the corners. “It’s good to see you. You’re as beautiful as ever.”
“As much as I love compliments, state your business, Declan.”
He chuckled and pulled at the cuff of his shirt beneath the suit jacket and the long overcoat he wore. “It’s cold out here. Why no’ allow me to come inside.”
It was just what she had wanted him to say. “All right.”
Declan walked through easily enough, but when the other four men tried to follow him, her magic prevented it.
“What is this?” Declan demanded as his blue eyes swung to her. Gone was the teasing seducer who had begged for entry.
She shrugged. “A show of magic, maybe. You asked for entry, which I granted. If you would like to battle, I’m game. Your men could be killed with merely a thought from me to my stones,” she said as she stroked the wall behind her.
Declan’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to weigh her words. Finally he let out a breath and smiled as he began to unbutton his overcoat. “You win. I didna come here to argue or fight. I came to offer you information and hopefully a solution that could benefit us both.”
As much as she hated to admit it, Deirdre was intrigued. She looked at the two wyrran who had been hiding in the shadows and had them guard the doorway as she commanded the stones to close the door.
“Follow me,” she told Declan and turned on the heel of her leather boot.
“I see you favor leather now, just as I expected you would.”
She chuckled. “Admit that you just liked seeing the way it conformed to my body.”
“Exactly. Why else would I have given it to you to wear?”
He was certainly a charmer, but she had been alive long enough to know that beneath the charm was a man who was willing to do anything to get what he wanted. And right now, he wanted her.
But how far would he go? she wondered.
She walked into the small sitting room outside her chamber and took a seat on the plush sofa Malcolm had retrieved for her. Deirdre motioned for Declan to take the chair opposite her, but after he tossed his long coat on the back of the chair, he instead sat on the other end of the couch.
“What information do you have for me?” Deirdre asked.
Declan smiled and leaned back in the corner, one arm resting on the arm of the
couch and the other on the back. “No pleasantries?”
“You pulled me from my time to this one, taking me away from all I had accrued, then kept me prisoner in your house for three months, and you want pleasantries? Maybe I should kill you now.”
“You would do that to the person who saved you from our master?”
Deirdre’s stomach clenched in terror, though she did not allow it to show on her face. “How did you do that?”
“He’s pissed off, Deirdre. He wanted to take away all the magic he had given you because you haven’t given up on your need for the artifacts the MacLeods have.”
She knew the Devil hadn’t been to see her in some time, but that wasn’t always so strange. However, she’d had no idea he was going to take away her magic.
“Do you know what those artifacts will do, Declan?”
He shrugged. “Enlighten me.”
“They will awaken my twin sister, who has the ability to kill me regardless of how much magic I use to try and save my spirit once again.”
One side of Declan’s mouth lifted in a grin. “I confess, I knew that. I wanted to know if you did.”
“So what is your information? That Satan is angry with me?”
“That’s a portion of it, my sweet. The second part is that the MacLeods have found your dear sister’s hideaway. And they are awakening her tonight.”
Deirdre jerked to her feet and began to pace. Not tonight. It couldn’t happen tonight. She wasn’t ready to face Laria. All those years growing up she had thought Laria had no magic, but her twin had kept it from her.
If Deirdre was going to kill Laria she needed more Druids to take magic from, and she needed more Warriors. She paused and put her hands to her stomach.
“Get out,” she told Declan.
“I thought you’d like to hear the rest of my proposal,” he said as he leaned forward and braced his forearms on his knees.
Deirdre swung around as her magic raced through her. A strand of her floor-length white hair struck out and wrapped around Declan’s throat. He didn’t grab for it or even flinch as she began to squeeze.
“No’ this time, my darling,” he said, and cut the strand with a small dagger she hadn’t seen him withdraw. He stood and brushed aside the hair around his throat.
He flipped the dagger end over end as he went to retrieve his coat. He looked at her. “Verra soon you will be coming to me for help. Verra soon you’ll be begging me.”
“Never.”
“Ah, you should watch what you say.”
As he took his coat and walked out of her sitting room, Deirdre wondered for the first time in thousands of centuries if she should have listened.
* * *
Saffron’s happy morning turned dour after her argument with Camdyn. What was it about the man that set off her anger every time he opened his mouth?
Even though she had wanted to return to the castle, Arran had convinced her to let him show her around the grounds. They spent a few hours in the village looking at all the cottages that had been restored. He, Ramsey, and Camdyn all had cottages.
“But there’s room enough in the castle,” she’d said.
“It’s getting tight. It was always the plan for the unwed Warriors to live here and all the Druids in the castle.”
It had made sense to her, and though she hadn’t wanted to know, she’d taken special interest in Camdyn’s cottage when Arran pointed it out.
Next they had spent some time in the old ruins of the abbey. It saddened Saffron that so many innocent people had died upon MacLeod land. If she were one to believe in ghosts she’d expect everything to be haunted.
Saffron asked to be taken to the beach, and they were on their way to the side of the castle where Cara had her garden and the path that led down to the water.
They were standing at the path when Arran stopped her. “It’s icy and no’ safe for you.”
“I can fly her down,” Broc said as he strode out of the kitchen and released his god so that his wings sprouted from his back.
Saffron took in the indigo color of his skin and the dark blue of his claws as well as the huge leathery wings that rose high over his head as he folded them behind his back.
Gwynn had explained the transformation of the Warriors to her many times, but seeing the claws, fangs, and the way the color of the god took over their skin and eyes was another matter altogether.
“Nay, you can’t,” Sonya said as she poked her head outside. “Fallon is looking for you, sweetheart. I think he wants you to make sure Deirdre is still at Cairn Toul.”
Broc shrugged, and just like that the indigo blue of his skin and eyes were gone as were the wings, claws, and fangs. “Sorry, Saffron. Another time.”
She smiled and was ready to see if she could help in the castle when Broc paused and said, “Camdyn can take you, however.”
Camdyn’s dark head jerked up from where he was sitting near the kitchen door. Saffron hadn’t realized he was there because Broc had stood in front of him, but now that she saw Camdyn, she couldn’t look away.
He laid aside the dagger on the bench beside him and rose to his feet. With determined strides he moved toward her.
“I … ah, I’m going to go,” Arran said, and hurried away.
Saffron took a deep breath and looked at her gloved hands. She cleared her throat and said to Camdyn, “You don’t have to do anything. It’s probably better if I wait until spring anyway.”
When he didn’t answer, she looked up to find him holding out his hand palm up. Saffron looked from it to his face and frowned.
“Do you trust me?” was all he asked.
Saffron nodded. “I do.”
“Then take my hand.”
She didn’t hesitate a second time. As soon as she put her hand in his, his fingers closed around her hand and he pulled her against him so that his arms wrapped securely around her. It gave her the excuse she wanted to wind her arms around his neck.
“Hang on,” he whispered in her ear.
A shiver of anticipation, of pleasure, raced down her spine. His arms tightened, and she had but an instant to get her breath. One moment they were standing on the cliffs by the castle, and the next they were falling through the air.
Saffron’s stomach jumped into her throat, but she wasn’t afraid. She’d heard that the Warriors leaped to the beach all the time. So, instead of burying her face in Camdyn’s neck in fear, she threw back her head and laughed at the idea of just being alive.
All too soon they landed. More gently than Saffron had expected.
She was still smiling when she looked up into Camdyn’s face. “That was amazing.”
“You were no’ frightened.” It wasn’t a question, and the confusion in his chocolate eyes startled her.
“No.”
She felt his hands spread over her back through her jacket and clothes, felt him pull her tighter against him. It became difficult to breathe as she found herself drowning in his gaze.
Sinking.
Tumbling.
Into everything that was Camdyn MacKenna. She didn’t want to feel this insatiable attraction to him, but it seemed there was no denying it.
She didn’t stop him or turn away when his head began to lower to hers, even though she knew in her heart she should. She should run as far and as fast from Camdyn as she could.
Because he was the type of man who could hurt her far worse than anything Declan had ever done to her.
Saffron forgot about running, forgot everything but Camdyn and the wonderful feel of him as his lips took hers. He nibbled her mouth softly, seductively, teasing her before his tongue slid between her lips.
She gasped as his tongue stroked along hers, fanning the flames of desire that had been scorching her since their first kiss.
The feel of his hard arousal was pressed into her stomach. His moan, low and long, when she returned his kiss with fervor only pushed her further.
The longer they kissed, the hotter the kiss grew. It consumed
them. Devoured them.
And she loved every hot, wonderful moment of it.
His hands slipped into her jacket and held her firmly, as if he couldn’t let her go. His hands were everywhere, touching her, caressing her. Saffron was drunk with his kisses, her passion flying high as he grabbed her hips and ground his arousal into her.
She groaned and clung to him tighter.
Camdyn knew he was walking an edge as sharp as a blade, and any moment he was going to fall into all that was Saffron. Her scent was all over him, her body a temptation he couldn’t ignore.
And her kisses … they spoke of her passion, of her longing. Of her yearning.
He turned her slightly and reached up to cup her breast. She gasped as he circled her nipple through her sweater before thumbing it into a hard peak.
Camdyn knew he had to stop soon or find himself past the point of no return. It was only the thought of going through another death that doused the flames of his desire.
He lowered his hand and slowly ended the kiss. Then cursed himself for ten kinds of fool when he saw Saffron’s kiss-swollen lips and the question in her eyes.
“Camdyn?”
“I can no’ do this.” He didn’t recognize his own voice it was so hoarse, but he had to get the words out. “Regardless of what my body wants, I can no’.”
She nodded and let her arms fall from around him. Camdyn didn’t want to release her, didn’t want to sever what was between them, but he allowed her to do it as she stepped around him.
“I think it’s better that you leave,” she said and turned her back to him.
He watched her for several moments as she stared out to the sea, her back rigid and her arms crossed over her chest. The walnut-colored strands of her hair danced around her face in the sea air. In the end, he knew she was right. He did need to leave.
The only problem was, he could never get far enough away from her.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Saffron found herself standing once more in the great hall waiting for Fallon to teleport her to the Ring of Brodgar on the Orkney Islands.