Celtic Knot

by Shannon MacLeod

  Without breaking the kiss, Ian slowly held up one finger for him to wait and the crowd erupted into laugher. Another long moment went by and when the king barked in exasperation, “My Lord!” it brought another round of hilarity accompanied by applause.

  With a reluctant sigh, Ian raised his head. Lily’s eyes fluttered opened and she gave him a dreamy smile, swaying a little too much for his peace of mind. Catching her before she could lose her balance, he murmured “Thank you” into her ear. Dazed, Lily allowed Meg to lead her through the curtains into the tent at the rear of the stage, fanning at the younger woman’s furiously blushing face.

  The man-at-arms returned Ian’s cape and sword belt to him with an envious grin and donning them, Ian bowed low again before his brother-in-law. “That was bloody brilliant,” Dan whispered. Ian missed those words, his full attention riveted on the opening Lily had disappeared through.

  The king clapped his hands and when a troupe of acrobatic fools took the field, the two men slipped into the tent where the women stood waiting.

  “Good show, the both of you,” Meg said, grinning “Positively inspired, even.”

  “’Twas but the charms of the lady that made it so,” Ian said with a gallant bow. He offered Lily his arm and as he guided her through the exit flap, he looked back over his shoulder and mouthed “thank you” to the royal couple.

  Ian walked slowly with Lily to her tent, stopping occasionally for patrons who wished to congratulate him, admire her gown, or photograph the two of them together. When they arrived at their destination, he took her hands in his. “I want to see you again,” he said. “Are you free Wednesday?”

  When she gave him a shy smile of assent, he drew her close and curled a finger gently under her chin, tilting her face to meet his. “Thank you for the kiss,” he said. “I’m afraid I took advantage of your good nature, but the truth is, I wanted our first kiss to be a memorable one.”

  “Or perhaps one I surely could not resist,” Lily said with a coquettish smile. “And when you say first kiss, milord, do you foresee more in your future?”

  Ian shook his head sadly. “Ah, so you’ve seen through my clever ruse. ’Tis obvious I’ll have to resort to more devious methods. Or I could just do this.” He cupped her face in his hands and captured her lips with his in a quick but thorough kiss. “I shall look forward to Wednesday,” he whispered.

  “As will I,” Lily said

  “You are indeed wondrous fair, my lady,” he murmured, then turned and started back toward the office. He had only gotten about twenty feet away before he looked over his shoulder and saw her still standing at the tent entrance, watching him and smiling. Her smile turned to a look of confusion when he strode back to her, his long legs eating up the distance between them. He stroked across her cheek with his thumb.

  “Just one more,” he said with a grin, lowering his head to steal another kiss. “Wednesday’s a long way off.”

  * * * *

  Her lips still tingling, Lily watched Ian thread his way through the crowd and disappear.

  Game. Set Match, she thought.

  8

  Ian had almost made it to the office door when a squat man stepped in front of him, blocking his path like a genial pickle barrel. An expensive camera dangled from a strap around his neck. “Lemme get a picture,” he said, grinning.

  Ian smiled obligingly and paused for the man to take several shots. He spoke over his shoulder to his companions, a blond man and a small dark-haired woman. “Hey, this is the sword fighting guy,” he said, pointing to the blade at Ian’s side. “That was some fancy fighting y’all were doing. Missed the end, though. Did you win?”

  “Aye, sir, I was fortunate. Sir Renaud is a very worthy opponent,” Ian said.

  “Bet you didn’t learn how to do that around here. Where’re you from?” the man asked.

  Ian beamed and gave them a short bow. “Ireland, sir, lately come to your beautiful shores.”

  The second man said nothing, his lips pressed together into a firm line. Their gazes locked for the briefest moment and Ian was taken aback at the sudden blaze of hatred in the man’s eyes. Ian’s gaze darted to the woman in time to catch her staring back, but she looked away quickly. His sixth sense went into instant overdrive and the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Something is wrong here, he realized with a jolt.

  The office door swung open and Dan stuck his head out. “Ian, can you come in for a minute?”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed the show. Please excuse me,” Ian said, inclining his head politely. Scanning the woman again, he felt conflicting emotions of fear and anger rolling off her in waves. Forcing a smile, he turned away and followed Dan inside.

  * * * *

  The three park guests watched him disappear behind the closing door. “Ian. Foreign bastard,” Lucas said, spitting out the words as if they left a bitter taste in his mouth. They turned and walked quickly through the crowded street, heading for the parking lot. Once safely out of sight, their pace slowed. “I want everything you can get of the two of them together,” he said to the cameraman.

  He snorted with disgust as Renaud strolled past with a giggling park visitor on each arm. “Wonder how much of that was real? Probably none of it.”

  The woman glanced furtively over her shoulder, a gesture not lost on Lucas.

  “Did you like watching him, honey?” he asked with deceptive calmness. “Did he make you all hot and wet?”

  She waved the notion away with a nervous laugh. “No way, baby, not my type.”

  “Good,” Lucas said, “because I’ve got something special I’ve been saving up just for you. C’mon, we’re out of here.”

  * * * *

  Once inside the office, Ian bolted to the window. “Those people I was talking to, Dan– something’s not right with them, least not with the woman, anyway.”

  “Should we have security follow them?” Dan asked.

  Ian searched the crowd again and shrugged. “They’re gone now. Maybe it was just my imagination.” Turning away from the window, he sprawled out on the leather couch, his long frame covering its length.

  “What a great show. The crowd loved it. Although it would have been nice to have a bit of warning about the kiss,” Dan said, chuckling. “I’m rather surprised Lily agreed to that.” When there was no response to that observation, he turned to face the younger man lying there with a mischievous grin lighting his face. “You didn’t plan this with her? What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded. “What if she’d said no?”

  The office was filled with Ian’s rolling laughter. “In front of all those cheering people?” he gasped, clutching his sides. “We went out to dinner last Thursday. I had a feeling she wouldn’t be too adverse to the idea.”

  “Oh, she’s the one,” Dan said. “Should have put two and two together. Well, that’s what Meg is for. And speaking of my dearest wife…”

  Meg stalked into the large room and stood in front of Ian, who was still giggling and more than a little pleased with himself over the evening’s events. She gave him a hard glare then aimed a vicious kick at his booted foot, smiling at the ensuing howl of pain.

  “Christ Almighty, Meghan. What the feckin’ hell was that for?” Ian complained, rubbing his injury.

  Meg shook a menacing finger. “Proud of yourself, are you? That poor girl could barely stand when you finished with her. And you,” she demanded, whirling on Dan, “you promise this rakehell I’ll cook dinner for him–Irish stew which takes all day to make properly, mind– without so much as a by your leave?”

  Dan glanced at Ian, who looked as guilty as he felt, and lowered his head. Ian ducked his chin. “Sorry, Meg,” they mumbled in unison.

  “That’s more like it, but I’m not after believing either of you. You’ll be bringing Lily, I expect?”

  Ian sat up and scratched his head. “I hadn’t thought about it, I suppose I could ask…”

  Meg dropped an affectionate kiss on top of Ian’s head. “Then it’s a
ll settled. Let me know when. You, I’ll deal with later,” she purred to Dan, which brightened his spirits.

  * * * *

  Ian had trouble sleeping that night but for a confirmed insomniac, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. This afternoon, watching Dan and Meg, who were a perfect match, he’d suddenly felt very alone for the first time in his life. Something had stirred inside him, something new and unfamiliar that now made him feel almost…restless, but the reason for his unease danced just at the edge of his consciousness. Holding his nose in deference to the pungent herb smell, he choked down a couple of valerian root capsules then lay in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying the night’s events. With Lily’s purloined scarf pressed to his face, he closed his eyes and inhaled the intoxicating scent of her lavender, remembering the softness of her skin, her lips. More, he thought when sleep finally overtook him, her scarf still entwined in his fingers.

  * * * *

  He stood in an open field, hanging heavy wet sheets on a clothesline with hands red and chapped. The long farm dress hung shapeless on his slight frame, patched and worn but clean. He glanced down into the metal wash tub–the unfamiliar face peering back was female and young, but aged beyond her years. Faded blond hair was pulled back into a tight bun, the tiny escaped wisps framing his own green eyes.

  His scrutiny was broken by shouting in the distance. Two young boys looking to be no more than six or eight came running and clutched at his skirts. “Ma– soldiers!”

  Following their wildly pointing fingers, he squinted into the distance. Wearing the drab gray uniform of the Confederacy, three men limped into the field, their bandages bloody and feet dragging with bone deep exhaustion. One man lifted his hand in an unsure wave. The subsequent blood rush was a dizzying combination of love, happiness and relief. “It’s your daddy come home,” he cried, lifting his skirt to run to him. They met midfield in a frantic embrace, but when the returning soldier bent his head to kiss his wife the only thing Ian saw were Lily’s beautiful blue gray eyes smiling back at him.

  …do you remember me…

  * * * *

  Lily had her own restless troubles, tossing and turning, unable to get Ian and the amazing kiss out of her mind. “That’s it,” she said, rousting the grumpy cat out of a sound sleep. “I’m just not tired. I need…” Another kiss like that one, please. She shook her head to dispel the image. “Maybe a snack to help me sleep.” Padding barefoot to the kitchen, she grabbed a bagel and flopped down on the couch for some video valium. She absently ran through the channels, stopping on the local news headlines.

  “…a body was recovered from the Alafia River early this morning,” the announcer intoned. “The unidentified victim is a young woman…”

  What a terrible way to die, thought Lily. How many is that now, three, four? Surfing a little longer and finding nothing of interest, she turned off the TV and stared at the cat. “You know what I want to do, Bella, and I shouldn’t. It’s an invasion of privacy, you know.” Bella stretched and yawned as if she couldn’t care less. “You’re no help at all,” scolded Lily. “You’re supposed to talk me out of it. What kind of familiar are you, anyway?”

  Bella jumped off the couch and meandered into the kitchen, pausing in front of the cabinets before making a beeline for her dish. Lily lifted her hand to her throat in feigned surprise. “Dare I take this to mean you’re giving me your approval?” Grinning, she pulled a saucepan out of the same cabinet then reached for the herb jars lining her counter.

  …hibiscus blossoms, jasmine, rose petals, orange blossoms, mugwort…she mentally counted off the ingredients she needed. She put the herbs in the pan and covered them with water from the glass decanter on the windowsill, turning the heat on low. The mixture simmered as she shed her clothes on the way to run a hot bath.

  Naked, she returned to the kitchen and took the fragrant mixture from the stove to the bathroom. Chanting under her breath, she poured the contents into the bathtub and lit the candles before easing into the steaming, perfumed water, then lay deep in silent concentration until the water cooled. After rising and drying off, she walked slowly back to the bedroom and fell back atop the sheets. She let her body relax, her eyes closing as she took a deep, cleansing breath. “Now,” Lily whispered, feeling her spirit lift, “take me to him.”

  Her first impression was a dark and lush green forest, thick with trees. This can’t be right, she thought. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as a large bed with a lone, still figure lying on it swam into view. Lily moved closer for a better look, entranced by what she saw. Ian lay on his back, his long curls tangled in sensual disarray about his face and shoulders. His broad chest was bare, his lower body draped by the heavy cotton sheet. Awake, he was roguish in his charm, but asleep, his unlined face was almost boyish. Wide shoulders and long, muscular arms were bronzed from working outdoors. The slow rise and fall of his chest assured her he was sound asleep.

  She moved closer and inhaled deeply, reveling in the heady combination of herbal soap and virile man. A bud of heat formed in her chest and spread like wildfire, across her stomach then straight down to between her thighs. She gave a whimper at the unfamiliar pulsation and his head tilted slightly toward her as if in response. Teasing the dark curls on his chest, she allowed her fingertips to trace the trail of fine hair leading down to the thick nest of amber curls peeking from the top of the emerald sheets.

  If he were to move, I don’t think I could stand it, Lily thought, rather hoping he would. She touched him lightly on the cheek then slowly ran her right hand down his neck. He sighed and that small sound encouraged her to be bolder, feather her fingertips along his shoulder, his chest. His skin rippled with gooseflesh when she ran her hand down the thick cords of his abdomen toward the lighter skin now visible low on his hips. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain it was going to wake him.

  I sooo shouldn’t be doing this, she admonished herself, but her left hand had developed a mind of its own. It was busy running amok, gliding her fingers up the full length of his long leg, lingering on his muscular thigh.

  “Lily…” Ian whispered and for the first time, Lily noticed the scarf he still held. She touched a fingertip to his lips and he gave it a soft kiss, melting her insides with his gentleness.

  He’s dreaming of me, she realized, her hand continuing on its path and coming to rest–completely by accident, she later assured herself–on the marble hardness beneath the sheet. They both inhaled sharply and Ian’s eyes flew open, searching the room wildly. Lily was snatched back through space to her own room, and when she opened her eyes again, she shivered from the sudden cold. “He was dreaming of me.” She sighed and curling up under her covers, fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

  * * * *

  Ian awoke around ten the following morning and began making plans for a productive day, starting with clearing the pending correspondence gathering dust on his desk. He stood by the sink in his kitchen eating a piece of cold pizza but the thought of Lily’s hands on his body wouldn’t leave his mind. That was far too real to have been a dream, he mused, but what else could it have been? He found himself walking into his bedroom and falling back against the downy comforter. Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, he could still smell the faint, intoxicating blend of rose and hibiscus petals and…mugwort? Astral travel? Who in the feckin’ hell… He sniffed again and caught a hint of the familiar lavender. No…she couldn’t have…could she? I have to know, he decided.

  It was only ten thirty but he called her anyway, his tone serious. “I have found I cannot wait until Wednesday to see you. I was thinking of taking a drive down to Sarasota for some art supplies and wondered if you’d like to keep me company.”

  There wasn’t even a pretense of a pause. “Sounds like fun–what time?”

  “One hour,” he said.

  He arrived a few minutes early, comfortable in faded blue jeans and a dark gray knit pullover. Although the October sun was warm, the breeze was brisk. She opened the door, wearing snug
stretch jeans and a fuzzy chenille sweater that matched the color of her eyes. Why this feeling of awkwardness, as he stood there staring at her? Color climbed her cheeks while she held his gaze, so she must have felt it too.

  “Come in,” Lily said, inexplicably flustered. “I’m almost ready.”

  “I’m early, I think,” he apologized, taking a seat on the couch. Having heard his voice, Bella came running and cannonballed into his lap.

  Lily was ready to go in moments, and disentangling himself from the cat, Ian excused himself to the restroom before they left. Once inside, he leaned his back against the door and inhaled the heady scent of the herbal mixture from the night before, confirming his suspicions. Ah, pretty cailleach, there is much more to you than meets the eye. He chuckled. That’s one question answered. He scanned the bathroom vanity and spied Lily’s plastic package of birth control pills. And there’s another. He sighed with relief.

  * * * *

  It was a beautiful autumn day with fat white clouds chasing each other across the azure sky. The drive took just over an hour but lost in animated conversation with Ian, the time passed as if on wings. At the art store, she and Ian were greeted upon arrival by a distinguished gentleman with a British accent. “Mr. Kelly, always a delight, sir. We’ve gotten some new oils I think you might find interesting…” He set off at a trot toward the back of the store.

  Entranced with the unfamiliar surroundings, Lily was already moving forward to browse a selection of unframed art. Ian glanced at the man then back to her, obviously torn. “Would you mind…” he asked.

  “Go ahead, I’ll just look around,” she said, waving him on.

  Ian tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in question. Lily laughed. “I’ll be fine unless…nothing here is dangerous, right?” she asked with a straight face.

  “Shouldn’t be, but should you get cornered by some wild brushes, scream and I’ll come running.” With a snort of amusement, he turned and followed the older man down the aisle.