by Cali MacKay
She cupped his cheek as her eyes searched his face and sent his heart racing. He couldn’t help but lean into her touch, turning to kiss her palm. Gently, she pulled her hand away. “We should go.”
“Aye, we should.” He managed a smile, refusing to let disappointment set in. She hadn’t given him an answer-but that also meant she hadn’t turned him away. There was still hope. “Ye wanted crepes, right? Why don’t we do that then? It’ll also give me a chance to check my email to see if Thorsen’s sent anything.”
They got back to his home just as the sun was setting, the sky painted in pinks and blues. The last of the day’s light poured through the large windows that flanked his fireplace. It didn’t take long to get a fire going, and after being out in the brisk wind, the warmth of it was comforting.
“I got ye a whisky. I don’t like to drink alone, and right about now, I need a drink.” Maggie handed him a glass and propped herself against the arm of the leather sofa, watching him toss a few more pieces of wood on the fire, sparks dancing on the heat as they floated up to die as ash.
He stood and turned towards her, taking a long sip from his glass before reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze, knowing how worried she was about her brother. “Dinnae fash, love. Thorsen’s good at what he does. He’ll make sure Aidan gets back to ye safe.”
She nodded and looked down at her drink, but Conall could see all her emotions riding just under the surface of her delicate skin, even if she was doing her best to hold it together. “What if something goes wrong? What if he’s hurt in the process?”
“Och, love. Ye’ve got to stay positive.” He pulled her to him and cradled her head against his shoulder, his own heart aching to see her so upset when there was little he could do but be there for her. “Let’s get ye fed, aye? It’s hard to find hope on an empty stomach.”
Grabbing the ingredients he’d need, he decided to try to distract her from her worries. “Come on. I’m going to teach ye how to make crepes.”
Her shoulders slumped and she rolled her head. “I’m in no mood, Conall.”
“Well, I’m not taking no for an answer. Besides, if ye’re leaving in a week’s time, then ye’ll need to know how to make these on yer own. I can’t have ye turning up on my doorstep every time ye’re craving crepes.”
He had to smile when she glared at him. “You wish, boyo.”
By the gods, he loved everything about her. He set the bowl in front of her. “Start with the eggs. This is more of a method than a recipe, so you can make any amount ye want. For the two of us, I’d say three to four eggs should do.”
She cracked the eggs in the bowl and took the whisk he handed her. “Believe it or not, I do know how to cook.”
“Didn’t say ye didn’t. Now whisk in enough flour to thicken it. About the consistency of a very thick cake batter.” He slid the bag of flour and a spoon over to her, and then dug out a chopstick.
While she added the flour, he moved behind her and slipped his hands under her hair, gathering it up to expose that gorgeous length of neck. He then twisted her hair up and pinned it in place with the chopstick, his hands trailing down her arms.
Unable to resist, he kissed that sweet spot where her neck curved into her shoulder, but his heart ached when she stiffened. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
She sighed and her shoulders relaxed just a little. “Don’t be sorry. Actually…it was nice.” She looked over at him with a tentative smile before turning back to the batter. “How’s this look?”
“A little more flour. That’ll keep the crepes from tearing and being too delicate when we try to flip them.” He grabbed the milk and tried to concentrate on cooking rather than getting his hopes up. Still…she’d said it was nice. He sighed with relief. At least it was a step in the right direction. “Now stir in enough milk to bring the mixture to the consistency of cream. Add a pinch of salt, a drop of vanilla and a spoonful or two of sugar, and ye’re good to go.”
Conall reached around her and grabbed a large non-stick pan and placed it on the stovetop, setting the burner to medium. When he felt her eyes on him, he threw her a smile. “Ye know, having ye around has absolutely ruined my reputation for being a cantankerous grump.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Ye’re nothing but trouble, Conall Stewart. And I appreciate this-trying to distract me.”
“Distract ye?” He gave her a crooked smile, his eyes full of mischief. “My dear sweet Maggie, if I was trying to distract ye from yer troubles, I could certainly think of better ways than cooking. Not that ye’d be interested.”
“Ye’re not going to goad me into sex, Conall.” She turned to him with one eyebrow perked, and a stern gaze, like a librarian who’d caught a noisy child. “Now, are ye going to tell me how to cook these?”
“Aye, seeing that I’m in no mood for crepes thick as shoe leather. I’ll do the first, and then you can have a go.” He spread a pat of butter over the hot surface and then took the pan off the heat, holding it in the air. Using a ladle, he poured the batter into the pan, quickly swirling it to coat the entire surface and then returned it to the heat. After a minute or two, he removed the crepe from the pan, flipped it for a minute and then set it aside on a large plate. “I find the pan’s just a wee bit hot if it’s still on the stove when ye pour yer batter, and it’ll keep the batter from easily coating the pan. If need be, a bit more milk can be added to thin the batter.”
He stepped to the side and leaned against the counter to watch her. She repeated his steps, but the batter didn’t make it all the way around. She laughed. “All right. I’ll admit, ye made it look easy.”
He flicked his eyebrows up with a teasing smile, happy she’d forgotten a few of her troubles, even if only for a short while. “Here. We’ll do it together.”
She buttered the pan and got a ladle of batter. He came up from behind her and placed his hand gently over hers, trying to ignore the way his pulse raced as their bodies brushed against each other. The moment she poured the batter, he got her swirling it around, his hand guiding hers to get the speed right. “Just keep moving it until it coats the pan evenly.”
She set it back down on the heat for a few minutes more before flipping the crepe and removing it to a plate. She looked over her shoulder at him with a wide smile and then turned to face him. “How do ye like that?”
“Only because ye had an amazingly wonderful teacher, aye?” Conall laughed and then gave her a quick peck though he didn’t linger, not wanting to push things. “So, is that all ye’re feeding us? I’m starving, lass.”
“You’re such a cheeky bastard.” She turned back to the crepes and got started on the next one when Conall’s phone chimed.
Conall pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the text message. “It’s Thorsen. The team’s together and they’re on for tonight. He’s also coordinated with our local police to pick up Sean at the same time, so he’s not tipped off. We’ll have news by morning at the latest.”
“Morning. And then it’ll all be over, right?” Her words came out all a tumble, her breaths shallow. “He’ll be home safe?”
“Aye, love.” Needing to comfort her, he pulled her into his arms, his heart racing with hope when she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. With her head resting against his shoulder, he held her close. “It’s nearly over.”
Though she stayed there in his arms a few moments more, it wasn’t nearly enough for him. Not when she might leave him for good. She turned back to the stove, but she was still a shaky mess. “I still haven’t fed ye. You must be starving.”
He covered her hand with his when she grabbed the pan. “I’ll take care of it, love. Why don’t ye get some jams and cream out of the fridge, unless ye prefer something savory.”
She stood there, her gaze finding his as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Ye’re a good man, Conall.”
With a crooked smile, he leaned over and gave her a peck on her cheek. “Just don’t go telling anyone. That’s our little secret.”
***
Waiting to hear from Thorsen had time trickling by slower than ice melting on a day hovering just above freezing. Conall had tried to keep the conversation going, but no matter the topic, it didn’t take long before Maggie fell into silence, the worry in her eyes paining him. He needed to distract her, but didn’t think she’d be up for his normal methods.
Something would need to be done, and he knew just the thing, even if it would be hard for him. Maggie had been curious about his guitar and had wanted him to play for her until she found out the reason he’d abandoned playing was because of Janet. He’d been in too dark a place back then, and though that was a long time ago, his guitar had remained in its corner, untouched.
Until now.
Chapter Twenty-Three
One scenario after the other played out in Maggie’s mind, keeping her from finding any peace and dragging out the minutes so each felt like an eternity. Poor Conall. He was doing everything he could think of to keep her mind off Aidan, short of taking her to his bed. That might be the one thing to distract her sufficiently. Except for the fact that she was now the one pushing him away.
It left her questioning why, especially when she still loved him. Part of it was that her stubborn streak had kicked in. She said it’d be his final chance before she moved on, and true to her word, part of her had indeed done just that. But there was more to it.
If he was skittish and distrusting enough to not be able to get over the lies she told to keep her brother safe, then she wasn’t sure she could trust him to not walk away the next time there was a bump in the road. And life was filled with bumps. No one got a smooth ride-not if they were actually living their life.
It wasn’t that she didn’t share in the blame. She should have been honest with him about her brother’s kidnapping, even if she’d been scared to do so. Of course he would have been there for her, and would’ve helped support her. She knew that from the start, yet she hadn’t trusted her gut. Hadn’t trusted him. And he had every right to wonder if she’d lie to him again in the future.
When it came down to it, they’d both been stupid fools. Lesson learned, if a little late.
Conall reached out and gave her hand a squeeze, his eyes shadowed with an emotion she couldn’t quite read. “Why don’t ye get us another whisky? I think I’m going to need it.”
“Sure.” Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, thinking there was a nervousness in his stance and gaze. But she did as he asked without questioning him, and wandered over to where he kept his spirits.
And then she heard it, the pluck of guitar strings being tuned. The guitar he wouldn’t touch, wouldn’t play. He hadn’t said much about it, but she knew he’d once been a different man, someone who’d been carefree enough to sing and make music. Before he’d been repeatedly hurt. Before his trust had been abused.
Her emotions rose to the surface. He knew she needed a distraction and so he was going to ignore his own wounds to heal hers. With a deep breath to steady herself, she grabbed their drinks and wandered back over to him, putting his glass down on the table near him.
“Ye don’t have to, you know.” By the gods, she loved him something fierce.
“I want to.” He looked up from what he was doing, his eyes soft and kind as they fell on her. A crooked smile then sprung to his lips. “Not that ye’ll get me to sing-unless ye’re in the mood for a bit of comedy.”
He strummed it experimentally and made some final adjustments. With a final bit of liquid courage, he took a long draw from his glass, set it aside, and took a deep breath.
With his head bent over the guitar, he cradled it against him like a long-lost lover returned to his arms and started to play. It was a tune of old, slow and haunting, belonging to this place, though of another time. The melody filled her like the ache of a love stolen, of a longing that would never die.
So filled with emotion, with honesty, the tune linked her heart to his. It joined their souls, for they belonged to each other and no one else.
She lost herself in the moment as he played, helpless to stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks, her throat tight. It was beautiful. So incredibly beautiful. And when he finished it was as if she was missing a part of herself.
“Och, love. I didn’t mean to make ye cry.” He set aside his guitar and closed the distance between. Cupping her cheek, he wiped her tears, his touch gentle as his eyes settled on hers, taking her in. “Whist, mo chridhe. Ye need not worry. I’m here for ye.”
“I love ye, Conall.” She leaned in and kissed him. Kissed him until the emptiness in her heart was filled. Kissed him until he made her whole once more.
He brushed the hair from her face, his gaze looking through to her very soul. “Marry me, Maggie. I love ye. With all that I am, I love ye and swear to do right by ye. Ye said life’s too short and we should live it to its fullest, but I can’t live my life without you in it.” He slipped down onto one knee, sending her heart pounding. “Please, say ye’ll marry me, love.”
She touched his face as her eyes searched his, her breath catching as she tried to slow her racing mind. She loved him like she’d loved no other. She’d never feel whole without him in her life-not when he was her all.
With a deep breath, she took that leap of faith, knowing he’d be there to catch her. “Aye, I’ll marry ye, love.”
He smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he kissed her. Kissed her until the rest of the world fell away around them, and there was nothing but their love.
***
Pulled from her stolen sleep, Maggie’s heart pounded at the sound of Conall’s phone ringing. He gently shifted her out of his arms and quickly moved to answer it. It was late. Nearly four in the morning. It could only be Thorsen.
He said little as he listened on the other line, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. She tried not to think the worst, but was so on edge she couldn’t push the thoughts out of her head. She held her breath as he hung up. “They have him, love. They’ve taken him to the hospital to make sure he’s all right, but Thorsen said other than looking a little worse for wear, he’s fine. Sean was also taken into custody and charged, and they’re questioning Andrew to see if he had any part in this.”
Relief overwhelmed her, the weight of worry and uncertainty finally lifting. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I can’t believe it’s over-and he’s safe. I can’t thank you enough, Conall. And Thorsen, too.”
He held her close, her head resting over his heart, the beat of it steady and strong. “Together, my love. Together we can get through anything.”
“Which is why we’ll never part.”
***
The lover’s stone. Barely a month had passed since Conall had proposed. Maggie now stood in the heather, surrounded by ancient stones in an ancient land, their family and friends at their sides, the wind catching the white lace of her dress, the Stewart tartan draped over her shoulder. She passed her hand through the hole in the stone, linking it with Conall’s, two souls, two hearts becoming one as they were married.
Conall pulled her into his arms, his eyes alight with love, with happiness, the rest of the world fading away so it was just the two of them. “I love ye, Maggie Stewart. Ye’re my very breath, the blood in my veins and the very beat of my heart.”
“And you, my love, are my very soul.”
The End
Thorsen’s story, the first book in the Mermaid Isle Series, will be available for purchase in the summer of 2013. For updates or to sign up for Cali’s newsletter, please check out http://calimackay.com.
Read ahead for a sample of Christina Tetreault’s newest romance, A Billionaire Princess.
A Billionaire Princess
Chapter 1
Outside the window, the runway rapidly approached as the family jet touched down. No matter how many times Sara Sherbrooke traveled by plane it never ceased to amaze her how something so large could take off and land with such ease. As the plane rolled to a sto
p, she released the death grip she had on the armrests and checked her smartphone for any text messages before tossing it into her Coach bag and then waited for the plane door to open.
“Do you require any assistance, Ms. Sherbrooke?” Michelle, the private flight attendant for the jet, asked.
Sara moved toward the exit. “I'm fine, Michelle. I'll let you and Peter know when I'm ready to leave. When you are both done here go ahead and check into your hotel and enjoy yourselves.”
Without waiting for an answer Sara walked down the stairs and out into the warm Hawaiian sun. As always it was a gorgeous day. It didn't seem like Hawaii ever had any other kind. At least every time she'd been here the weather was perfect and today seemed to be no different.
A few feet away Sara spotted the limo her brother Jake arranged and started toward it, her curiosity running rampant since yesterday when she’d received Jake's call insisting she come to Hawaii immediately with no explanation. She'd told him she had responsibilities and couldn't just up and leave without a good reason. All he said in response was to reschedule her meetings and then promised to have someone waiting for her at the airport.
“Once you’re seated, I'll put your luggage in the trunk; we can leave once Mr. Hall arrives,” the driver said opening the door for Sara.
At the mention of Jake's best friend and former college roommate, Sara's curiosity went into overdrive. Just what was her brother up to anyway?
Climbing into the car, Sara made herself comfortable and waited. The temptation to call Jake lurked in the back of her mind, but knowing her big brother the way she did, it would be pointless. When Jake was ready, he'd tell her what was going on and not a minute sooner.