They didn’t speak a word the entire way to her home but he noticed she was clasping her hands together so intensely he could see the whiteness of her skin by the dash lights.
He hadn’t given her the time to lock the door to the cottage so when they arrived she turned the latch, shoved it open and pushed inside. Instead of taking her coat off, she grabbed the dog’s lead. Mallory came lurching excitedly into the room before she’d cleared the lead from the peg.
“I have to take Mallory for a walk,” she explained to Colin, her voice soft and still a bit shaky.
“I’ll go with you,” Colin replied, his voice hard, his mind preoccupied with their near-death experience and what it might mean. Or if it meant anything at all and was just an accident.
Her head jerked up to look at him and then it tilted while she studied him. He noticed her eyes were more sherry than green.
Colin didn’t know what to make of that.
She nodded, clipped the lead on Mallory’s collar and they walked out into the night.
And as they walked, Colin noted that Mallory didn’t seem like a dog who didn’t like his walks. He seemed thrilled to be outside, smelling every blade of grass, and, as they made it down the secluded drive and turned onto the pavement, every car tire, post and inch of pavement he traversed. He was so excited Colin noticed that Sibyl was having trouble controlling the lead.
“Give it to me,” Colin ordered and then didn’t wait for her to act, he took it from her hands.
“I don’t understand. This is how he behaves during his morning walks sometimes. He never likes the evening walks. He just does his business as quickly as he can and we go home,” she explained.
As if realising they were talking about him, Mallory stopped. The dog looked down the length of his enormous body at them both and Colin could see that Mallory’s mouth was hanging open in what looked like a version of a canine smile. A long sliver of drool slid off his lip and plopped on the pavement.
“We’re going home,” Colin told the dog and Mallory, just as happy with this idea as he was with the walk, immediately turned around and headed back to the house.
“Utterly bizarre,” Sibyl muttered under her breath.
Colin did not reply.
Mallory decided on the pillar of a streetlamp and took care of his business on the way home and the three of them walked down her dark lane in silence (except for Mallory’s excited panting). Sibyl pushed open her door when they arrived and, once inside, Colin unhooked the dog’s lead and hung it on the peg while Sibyl took off her trench coat.
Without a word, his mind occupied with both the events of the evening (including the near-miss with the car and his strange conversation with Mrs. Byrne) and his continued anger at Sibyl, Colin walked up the stairs and straight to her bedroom. He was shrugging off his suit jacket when she arrived in the room.
“Colin?” Her voice was hesitant.
He turned on the bedside lamp, settled his eyes on her but didn’t answer and started to unbutton his shirt.
She stood across the room from him nervously then started to speak.
“You should know something about me,” she announced.
He stopped unbuttoning his shirt to study her, wondering what she had to say. Wondering if he’d believe what she had to say. Wondering if he’d be further annoyed by what she had to say. And thinking that he likely would not (to the former) and definitely would (to the latter).
Then, to his surprise, she crossed the room and halted not a foot away from him.
She lifted her beautiful face to his and her eyes were sherry. When she spoke her voice was low and intent and almost urgent.
“My mother and father are both redheads, I didn’t get their hair but I got their temper. I always say things I regret when I lose my temper and I’m always in a foul mood when I wake up. I’m so sorry I was such a terrible shrew this morning. Please don’t be mad at me anymore.”
When he didn’t reply to this stunning announcement, an announcement that, backed by the shade of her eyes (something she likely couldn’t control), he believed for they were a warm sherry, she closed the distance between them and hesitantly rested both her hands on his chest.
“I like it when you’re yelling at me or ordering me around a lot better than this. Not that I like you ordering me around but I couldn’t bear five months of this,” she declared and at the earnest look on her face he finally felt his chest, which had been tight since the moment he saw her smile at the waiter, relax. He also felt the anger ebb out of him and decided on the best course of action to work the rest of his tension at the evening out of his system.
Therefore, he ordered, “Take your clothes off, Sibyl.”
She nodded, her shoulders drooped, she dropped her head and began to step away from him.
“No,” he changed his mind, “I think tonight I’d rather do it.”
Her head snapped up and his hands went to her hips, sliding around, pressing in to pull her to him and she rested her hands lightly on his shoulders.
“Can I take it that since you’re ordering me around again that you aren’t mad at me anymore?” she asked, her alto voice sweet and, if he heard it correctly, hopeful.
Colin studied her.
Sibyl Godwin was definitely an enigma and this was a new, enchanting element to her puzzle.
He bent his neck and brushed his lips against hers.
Then he said against her mouth, “No, Sibyl, I’m not mad at you anymore.”
And that’s when it happened.
She relaxed, leaned into him, locked her sherry eyes with his and smiled.
And Colin knew, in that instant, he’d never forget that smile for the rest of his life.
* * * * *
Much later, Colin woke from a deep sleep, mainly because Sibyl had kicked him violently in the shin.
He pulled himself onto his elbow to see she was still asleep. They hadn’t closed the shutters and he could see her in the moonlight, she had moved away from him in the night and was lying on her stomach. He could tell she was agitated, something wasn’t right.
“Sibyl?” He reached out to touch her, to wake her from what was obviously a nightmare.
Before he made contact with her body, she reared up violently then she flew from the bed and raced across the room.
Colin noted distractedly that Mallory, who had been lying on the floor by Colin’s side of the bed, was now up as well, standing still and fierce and not barking or vibrating with his usual big dog energy.
But Colin’s attention was focussed on Sibyl, she’d halted by the window and stood panting as if she’d just run a race. Her body was tense, her arms held out, bent at the elbows, palms up in a defence posture. She was looking around, her head tossing this way and that, like she expected someone to attack her.
On guard at her strange behaviour, Colin exited the bed and approached her slowly.
“Sibyl,” he murmured quietly and her head jerked to him.
“Colin,” she whispered achingly and he felt his gut clench at the terrible tone of her voice. She sounded sad and defeated and, somehow, lost.
He reached her and slid his hands carefully around her waist, slowly drawing her body to his and wrapping her in his arms.
“It’s all right, you had a nightmare,” he told her and she shook her head, tossing her mane of hair. “Sibyl, it’s all right,” he assured her firmly.
She pulled back slightly and gazed at him. He could not see her eyes in the moonlight but he could feel their intensity.
Then she did the strangest thing, something that moved him at the same time it sent a sense of fear searing straight into his soul.
Lifting a trembling hand, she touched his throat in a feather-light caress and his body completely stilled. The light touch was somehow fervent, even reverent. Then she leaned forward, pressed her lips against his throat and kissed him there.
At her kiss, his still body froze.
Except for when she’d laid her hands on his chest
in apology and, after, on his shoulders when he held her, she’d not touched him, and definitely not kissed him, unless he’d commanded it or they were having sex.
But he knew, instinctively, this was not a game, this was not an act, this was something else entirely.
“Sibyl, what’s happened?” he asked.
“It’s just a nightmare,” she whispered in a way that sounded like she was trying to convince herself of the truth of her words. She tucked her head under his chin and wrapped her arms around him so tightly that it almost felt as if she wanted him to absorb her into his body.
It went without saying that she’d also never hugged him and this embrace was not simply an embrace, it was profound and it was desperate.
Automatically, his arms tightened around her.
“It’s all right,” he repeated, not knowing what else to say, completely at a loss of what to make of this latest, spectacular event.
She nodded her head against him, causing her hair to slide against his chest and, even though he would not have thought it possible, her arms tightened further around him. He reciprocated, pulling her even deeper into his body and resting his chin on her head.
Colin opened his mouth to speak, to ask her questions about her nightmare but he felt a tremor go through her and decided against it. It was not for tonight, when it was dark and whatever dream she had was fresh. He would ask her in the morning. Now, he needed to take the fear away.
And therefore Colin Morgan and Sibyl Godwin stood by the open window, their naked bodies bathed in moonlight, holding each other.
* * * * *
The dark soul stood hidden in the trees and watched the cottage. The soul saw the flash of movement as the body came flying to the window, a woman’s body, a woman with unforgettable hair.
Then a man come to her to hold her, gently, carefully, as if the naked woman was an exquisite, fragile piece of priceless crystal.
At this sight, the dark soul seethed.
Chapter Ten
Perfect Fit
Marian was not cheerful when she entered her house after Colin brought her home.
Marian was frightened.
What she witnessed outside the restaurant was no accident; it was not an impatient driver.
It was something else.
She’d followed Colin and Sibyl there and she’d been watching the restaurant (in between bouts of doing her grocery list and writing a letter to a friend) for over an hour. She saw the car drive up, she noticed that it didn’t park or turn off its motor but she didn’t know it was waiting to run down her precious charges.
She did know it was a black BMW although she had not seen the driver (who never exited the car), if it was a man or a woman and she did not note the number plate.
She’d let down the side.
Marian should have been watching carefully, she should have had her eyes peeled for anything, however, she had no idea that dark soul would make a move so soon.
It had been only at the last second, when she felt the malevolence, that she used some of her cheapest magic and blinked her eyes to light the headlamps of the car in warning to the couple. If she hadn’t, likely the two, who both seemed deep in thought, would have been mowed down.
Marian herself had no idea of the state of play between Colin and Sibyl. Sibyl had been pretty adamant about her feelings regarding Mr. Morgan a few days before at breakfast (these feelings were that he was a raving madman). Marian was relatively certain that they were still in combat mode from what she saw in her crystal ball. She was pleased as punch that they seemed to be out on a date though Colin’s stony face was a bit unwelcoming, that wasn’t exactly unheard of with Mr. Morgan and Sibyl looked bemused, poor girl.
But that car had been waiting for them and aiming at them with the desire to run at least Sibyl, but likely both of them, down.
Marian was going to have to work faster. She was going to have to get some charms together to protect both Lacybourne and Brightrose. She’d likely have to do something to protect both their cars. And she needed to get to work on some potions that took time to mature, just in case she needed them. On top of all this, she was going to have to be very vigilant.
She really hoped that Mr. Morgan was the charmer that many of the National Trust volunteers gossiped to her that he was. He was going to have to make swift work of it with Sibyl.
Why Colin didn’t tell Sibyl about the ill-fated lovers, Marian could not understand. Sibyl’s kind heart would have melted straight away.
He didn’t though and she was willing to give him his lead, for awhile.
But if this dragged on, and they didn’t realise they were destined for each other, destined to fall in love and then consummate it after that realisation, they were in big trouble.
* * * * *
Sibyl woke up, aroused.
Not just aroused, highly aroused.
And the reason for this was a light touch at the skin of the small of her back, an area always sensitive, an area that no lover had ever truly discovered or, when they did, made appropriate use of.
Until now.
She was on her side, facing the fireplace, away from Colin, and her eyes fluttered open.
She could feel the heat of his body even though only his fingers were touching her, drawing delicate figure eights and zig zags on the small of her back, dipping tantalisingly every once in awhile to her bottom.
This light touch caused waves of glorious sensation to shoot down the insides of her thighs, up her back and zoom straight between her legs.
“Are you awake?” Colin’s husky voice sounded in her ear.
She nodded her head against the pillow and could only say, “Mm hmm.”
She did this because didn’t trust her voice. She was about to whirl and attack him. She clamped her legs together and tried to think unsexy thoughts but the pulsating heat between her legs made this task impossible.
He kissed her shoulder lightly.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Oh goddess, he knew, he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
“Fine,” she muttered but the word was shaky.
His body moved closer, his hand at the small of her back flattened, smoothing over her bottom and she felt a sense of relief that he was going to stop. Then it started its distracted figure eights and zig zagging again.
Her body tensed.
“Tell me about it,” Colin encouraged.
“About what?” Sibyl answered quickly, confused and wondering what he meant. Did he want her to explain how it felt, what he was doing to her?
“About your dream,” Colin murmured in her ear, using his stubble-roughened chin to move the heavy hair away from her cheek.
“What dream?” she whispered, her mind not processing anything but the fact that her bones had melted to water and her blood had heated at least one hundred and fifty degrees. Even her breasts had swelled and were aching for his touch, though he hadn’t even so much as looked at them.
She was beginning to panic.
Did he know about her dream man? Did he know about her idea of one true love?
“Your nightmare last night,” he answered and went on. “It’s all right, Sibyl, it’s over, it’s daylight now and you can talk to me about it,” he assured her gently.
Even the reminder of the horrible nightmare didn’t distract her from what his hand was doing. The nightmare was the same one she’d had over a week ago, before meeting him.
Her body continued to react to what she realised now was what he intended to be a soothing touch, though it very much was not.
“Colin?” she asked, and she heard the tremor going through his name.
She had wanted to ask him to stop, but his lips were close to her ear and he mumbled a vibrating, “Mm?” and, already aroused, the sound of it thundered through her and she was done.
Before she could stop herself (or even think of stopping herself), she whipped around, pushed him on his back and attacked him.
She m
anoeuvred her body, swinging her leg over his hips to straddle him and before he had a chance to react, she leaned into him, tilted her head and kissed him, hard.
She didn’t even try to be gentle. She was primed and ready for him.
Now.
Her mouth opened, as did his, her tongue darted inside and she moaned just tasting him.
Goddess, even first thing in the morning, just like always, Colin tasted divine.
He, to her extreme pleasure, immediately deepened the kiss
Tearing her mouth away, she realised his hands had settled on her waist. She rained kisses on his eyes, his cheeks, sliding her tongue down the column of his throat to dip it into the space between his jutting collar bones. She felt his hands slide up her sides then in to her back then they separated, one going up between her shoulder blades, one down to cup her bottom, all the while scorching a lazy trail of fire.
She dragged her lips down his chest then she ran her teeth across his nipple while one of her hands went between their bodies to wrap around him and she was thrilled beyond rationality that he was already hard.
She heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Sibyl,” this was a groan but she was beyond responding.
She lurched up, releasing him and running her fingers down his arm, pulling it away from her until she found his hand and as she did she kissed him, again ravenous. She wanted to devour him, her body was on fire for him, and she kissed him hard and hungry as she pressed his hand between her legs, whimpering as his fingers slid against her wet, sensitive flesh.
“I want you, Colin,” she whispered against his mouth, “now.”
The minute he touched her wetness, he understood. Then she watched his lips form a deeply satisfied, even smug, smile. While they did this, he slid a finger inside her.
“Thanks be to the goddess,” she breathed and closed her eyes in rapture as his finger filled her.
At her words, the finger disappeared and he flipped her on her back in one smooth move. Parting her legs expertly, Colin didn’t hesitate, he drove into her.
Sibyl cried out at the ecstasy of it.
Even though it had been only minutes since they started, it felt like she’d waited an eternity for him. She lifted her hips to receive his thrusts as she wrapped her arms about his waist, holding onto his tight, muscled behind for dear life, her nails digging in. She buried her face in his neck, tasting him there while one of his arms curled around the top of her head, giving him leverage to pound into her, harder and deeper.
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