by Mary Morgan
She tapped her foot in irritation. “This is not a date, right? A final meal with a colleague. That’s all this will be.”
She straightened and went to the closet. Pulling the dress free, she slipped it on and zipped up the back. Reaching for her boots, she went to the bed and put them on. After inspecting her hair one last time, Rose grabbed her black jean jacket.
Hastily cleaning up the bedroom and clothes, she slipped her purse over her shoulder and opened the door.
She tried to mask her surprise and failed miserably.
Aidan stood leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. He wore black jeans that molded his body to perfection, and the black long-sleeved T-shirt sculpted his muscular arms and torso. She noted evidence of tattoos on his wrists for the first time. Now she was eager to see what they were and how far they extended on his arms. Aidan Kerrigan was an altogether perfect male specimen.
His gaze traveled from her eyes down the length of her body. Heat pooled in places throughout her as if he had touched her intimately.
“Lovely, Rose,” he stated, his tone sending ripples across her skin.
“Thank you,” she acknowledged.
“May I?” he asked, pushing away from the wall. He took her jacket from her arms and placed it over her shoulders.
She nodded, unable to form any more words. Afterward, he reached behind her and closed the door to her room. His presence dominated the small hallway. When the brush of his arm touched her, Rose almost leaned against the man.
He took her hand and placed it on the bend of his elbow, leading her out of the hallway and down the stairs. Stepping outside, the blast of cold air slapped against her cheeks. Rose blinked and recovered her senses. “Beautiful evening,” she declared, looking up at the sky filled with the first twinkling stars of the night.
“Most assuredly.” He opened the door to his car and gestured her inside.
Once Aidan settled within the vehicle, he maneuvered the car away from the main part of the town.
Rose frowned in confusion. “Are we not having dinner at the pub?”
“No.”
“Then where?”
He kept his sight directed on the road. “I thought a quiet dinner at Balleycove would be nice. It’s ladies’ night at the local pub, and it tends to get boisterous, making it difficult to carry on a conversation.”
Rose swallowed—hard. Alone with the sexy, charming, mysterious Aidan Kerrigan? Not a good plan. “Oh.”
“Are you not keen at seeing the kitchens of a medieval castle?” inquired Aidan.
“Yes,” she blurted out. “I’m just surprised.”
A frown creased his brow. “If you would rather—”
“Goodness, no! You know my fascination with anything medieval and history.” She clenched her hands in her lap. “I thought a quick meal would suffice, since you have business to attend to tomorrow.”
He winked at her. “Trying to get rid of me?”
Now the man intrigued her with his teasing. “I don’t understand your meaning,” she lied. Why did he captivate her beyond reason? “If I may ask, why do you wear the dragon torc?”
He gave her a questioning glance. “Family heirloom.”
“Umm…from what century?”
“Ancient.”
“Evidently,” she remarked dryly.
Aidan steered the car up a gravel path alongside a steep hill. The glow of the crescent moon slipped in and out of the trees as they traveled upward.
“I’m confident I can conclude my research tomorrow, so this will be a nice way to end my time here.” She gestured outward. “My sister will be jealous.” And I do not want to be a burden to you or anyone else.
When Aidan remained silent, Rose stole a glance at his rigid profile. A muscle flicked angrily in his jaw.
She swept her sight to the road in front of them, confused and wary. When the vista opened, Rose gaped at the mighty fortress. Two turrets flanked the sides of a massive stone structure. Aidan skillfully drove through what looked like a portcullis, and Rose swiveled in her seat to view it from behind. The gate tower loomed over them, and she half expected to see guards manning the post. Returning her gaze to the front, she noted torches flickering in soft waves near the main entrance of the castle. Vines of ivy twisted upward within the crevices of the stone and trailed a path over most of the main entrance of the castle.
“Impressive,” she whispered. Have I entered another time-period?
Aidan parked the car off to the side near a group of tall pine trees. He quickly got out of the vehicle and came to her side. When she opened the door, he reached for her hand, bringing her to stand mere inches from him. “Welcome to Balleycove, Rose MacLaren.”
“It’s magnificent.” Though she didn’t know if her words were meant for the castle, or the man staring down at her making her senses tingle.
As he led her through the giant oak doors, she was drawn to the massive tapestry suspended high from a beam in the entryway. The dragon rose in a majestic arc from the water. Yet, what made her breath hitch was the depiction of three moons behind the dragon. Rose had seen those exact same moons in her vision. Was this a message from the Goddess? Had her journey led her here to discover something connected to the standing stones?
But what did it all mean?
She swallowed, fearing to ask the question. “What does this tapestry represent?”
“A tale told by the ancients.”
Rose removed her hand from the warmth of Aidan’s. “Ancients? To whom?” she asked, trying to recall all the stories of legends and mythology and not stare at the torc he wore around his massive neck.
“Tribes from long ago.”
“You mean the Picts?”
Aidan clasped his hands behind his back. “Possibly.”
Rose pointed to the tapestry. “I don’t recall any tales regarding a dragon and three moons. Are you referencing mythology or something else?”
He gave her a skeptical look. “I assume your knowledge contains all the invasions pertaining to Ireland.”
“The dragons of the Tuatha Dé Danann?” She gaped at him.
“Precisely.” Aidan motioned her onward to the left. “The Tuatha Dé, to be exact.”
“They entered Ireland, not Scotland,” she protested, following alongside the man.
“Are you positive?”
“Did you have them made?” she asked, trying to keep up with the man.
“Many of what you see is extremely old. The tapestries were made for my home.”
“Obviously your family believed in the legends.”
Aidan cast a speculative glance her way. “Legends are based on some facts.”
Never once have I heard of a fact referencing dragons with the Irish. Rose’s steps slowed within the corridor, as she gazed upward at more tapestries. These were filled with glorious waterfalls and lush scenery. The colors teased her, and she ached to touch the flowers on one in passing.
The smell of bread lured her onward, and she followed Aidan. Upon entering the kitchens, she glanced around in all directions in awe of her surroundings. A giant hearth set in the back of the large room, dominating the entire wall. Copper glistened in the firelight on pegs near the hearth, and she observed a narrow passageway to the other part of the kitchens. Several tables graced the center of the room, one laden with baskets of herbs and one with loaves of bread.
Rose pinched herself. Yes, she was standing in a medieval kitchen.
“Are ye impressed, Rose?”
She giggled. “Ye could say that, my Laird. What’s in the adjacent kitchen?”
Aidan laughed, the rich and warm sound filling her. “An area for drying herbs.”
“No meat?”
“None,” he remarked, observing her.
“Yes. I do recall you mentioning you didn’t eat meat. I’ve never met a man who wasn’t a carnivore.” She walked to the hearth and bent over the pot near the flames. Inhaling deeply, she looked over her shoulder a
t Aidan. “Pea soup?”
He nodded in acknowledgement. “I hope you favor the meal.”
“Did you cook this?”
Aidan approached near her side. “Yes.”
“I’m impressed.”
The corners of his mouth twitched as he lifted a spoon off the hook attached to the stone wall. “That a man can prepare a meal?”
She shrugged in good humor. “Most of the men I’ve encountered resort to dining out or using a can opener for their meals. Furthermore, I find it fascinating to find you’ve heated the soup in a kettle over an open flame. Do you have a stove?”
“No.” He dipped the spoon into the soup. Bringing it to his lips, Aidan blew across the hot liquid. “I am not like any man you have met.” He held the spoon near her lips.
On that we can agree, Aidan Kerrigan. Opening her mouth, she devoured the tasty morsel of soup. She closed her eyes and savored the flavors. “Thyme, garlic, red pepper, but needs more salt.”
When she opened her eyes, Rose noted the shift of color within the depths of Aidan’s eyes. He took his thumb and swept the pad across her bottom lip. Heat blossomed in her face and her lips parted.
“You missed some,” he uttered in a low voice.
“Oh…” She blinked and looked away.
Aidan dropped the spoon on a side table. “Would you be so kind as to take the bread into the Great Hall. It’s through the door to the right of the entrance. I’ll follow shortly with the soup.”
“Of course.” She hastily made her way to the table. Reaching for a platter of bread and butter, her steps were unsteady as Rose made her way out of the kitchens and into the Great Hall.
If she thought the kitchens were spectacular, nothing prepared her for the expanse of the hall. More tapestries adorned the walls on either side of the room. Long wooden tables and benches were pushed against the walls, except for the lone large table near the giant blazing hearth. Candles inside iron holders were suspended from beams down the center of the hall. Their glow on the tables illuminated the wood’s luster.
As Rose moved toward the table by the hearth, she tried to calm her racing heart. Her attraction to Aidan was clouding her ability to think clearly around the man. After setting the platter down, she wiped a hand across her brow. “Did you expect him to kiss you?” She laughed nervously, removing her jacket and draping it over a chair.
Rose took a deep breath in and released it slowly. Bracing her hands on the table, she almost missed the carved pattern near the platter. Shoving the food aside, her eyes widened in disbelief. The carvings were ones she recognized. Though she had not seen them on any table or book.
They were on the man in her dreams. Down his arms and across his back.
Her fingers shook as Rose reached outward. Trailing a path over the wood, she tried to bring back the vision. Images blurred inside her mind, sending her spiraling to another place. The man, three moons, and stars that blazed in a multitude of colors. Moonlight illuminated the man to perfection, and she yearned to see his face.
Her sister’s words of warning echoed within her. “Help me to see,” she whispered her plea to the Goddess.
“Whom do you wish to see, Rose?”
She turned so fast that her hand toppled two cups on the table to the floor. Aidan’s eyes blazed like the starlight she’d witnessed, and she fought a wave of dizziness.
He stepped around her and placed the bowls of soup on the table. Grabbing her by the shoulders, Aidan drew her near him. Her instincts were to curl up in his arms. Safe, warm, and seductive.
Rose lifted her head and braved the storm she feared would come with what she would do. He ignited a firestorm just by looking at her. Standing on her tiptoes, she cupped his face and brought his full lips down upon hers.
Chapter Eleven
“If a warrior enters the tempest of a storm, he must be equipped to steer a course through the skirmish, or let another lead the way.”
~Edicts of the Fenian Warriors
Aidan tried to throttle the dizzying current racing through him as the first brush of her lips touched his mouth. The heady sensation left him spiraling. His warrior instinct screamed at him to push her away. Spurn her advance and stop this insanity. Yet, he found himself eager and erratic as a summer storm on his home world. His whole being seemed to be waiting for this moment, and Aidan was lost in the euphoria of holding her in his arms. Her kiss was one of exploration—hesitant and unsure, and his calm resolve shattered with the hunger for more.
Grasping her firmly around the waist, Aidan crushed her body to his. Desire ripped through his veins. His tongue sought entry into her soft heat, and he inhaled her scent. Rose returned his kiss with reckless abandon. When she wrapped her arms around his neck, he groaned deep within her mouth.
He let loose the lustful beast demanding control and took possession of her.
Aidan lifted her with one arm, as their kisses became a frenzy of passion. Moving along the table, he came to a halt before the large chair. Shoving it around with one foot, he sat down and cradled Rose on his lap.
She twirled her fingers in his hair while he gazed into liquid pools of desire that mirrored his own. He trailed a path across her lower lip with the pad of his thumb and to the base of her throat where the pulse beat and swelled as though her heart had risen from its usual place.
He brushed away strands of silver blonde to cascade over her shoulder so he could bury his face against her neck. “You smell of spices and exotic flowers.” Aidan felt her tremble under his touch as he trailed a path along the vein running up her throat with his tongue and then recaptured her lips, devouring their softness.
He drank in the sweetness and passion of the kiss, exploring, teasing, tempting him beyond all reason. Rose banished the darkness, and in its place there reigned starlight.
One kiss should have been enough. However, his soul cried out for more, and the Fae warrior became the man, yearning to experience what he had been denied.
Aidan banished all rational thought, except one. Conquer and possess the woman in his arms.
His hand cupped her full breast, pinching the taut nipple through the thin material of her dress. He ached to feast on her bounty, and removed his hand.
Rose let out a hiss of disapproval. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
He placed a finger against her lips to hush any further protest. And she responded by nipping tenderly on his flesh.
He found the zipper on her dress and tugged it gently downward. Aidan waited in trepidation, fearing she would halt his desire to touch her skin. Her breathing hitched, but Rose’s smile came slow and enticing, and he finished unzipping the dress. Pulling the material off her shoulders, Aidan feasted his eyes on what she presented him.
Trailing a finger over the lacy edges of her bra, he pulled out one ivory globe. The heat from her breast pooled in his hand, and Aidan bent his head to feast on her offering. Rose let out a guttural cry and tossed her head back. Not satisfied with only one breast to fondle, he yanked the material free and trailed a path between the valley of her breasts and to the other ivory globe.
She squirmed against his painfully swollen cock, and her moan of desire spurred him onward. Rose’s hands fisted in his hair. The pleasure built and ached for release. Aidan brushed a hand along her thigh until he came to the flimsy material blocking his entrance to her most intimate area. He retook fierce possession of her mouth as his finger found and sought entry to her slick folds.
“Oh…” she gasped.
He found her center and rubbed his thumb over the sensitive core, watching the flame of her desire build within the depths of her eyes. With each flick of his finger, her body quivered two-fold from his touch. She breathed lightly between lips already swollen from his kisses. As he roused her passion, his own grew stronger.
Rose moved in an ancient rhythm of pleasure, and he gritted his teeth, longing to bury himself deep within her body. Her scent filled him. Mesmerized by the beauty in front of him, Aidan was swept
into her own ecstasy of release.
Her cry echoed inside his mind as she collapsed fully against his chest. Aidan cradled her and gazed into the flames snapping within the hearth. His heart pounded erratically against his chest, trying to calm his raging desire to spread Rose out on the table and enter her swiftly.
When she lifted her head, her cool fingers grazed over his chin. “Take me to your bed, Aidan.”
Did she not understand the control he battled? The lust he attempted to keep reined in?
He looked down at the woman he held.
“Claim all of me tonight,” she uttered softly.
Aidan jerked as if he had been burned. “Claim?” he echoed, his voice sounding hoarse. She had no idea what the word meant. It was infinite. Forever. Soul to soul.
How could a human contemplate?
With shaking hands, he brought Rose to standing and held her away from him.
Utterly disheveled, she placed her hand against his chest. “I want you to be my first.”
Aidan rubbed a hand over his slick brow and closed his eyes. “You’re a virgin?”
When she didn’t answer, he snapped open his eyes. Her grimace told him all he needed. She was indeed untouched.
And he was a Fenian Warrior. The revelation hit him solid, and he staggered back. Contempt and sorrow filled him.
He regretted the words before they tumbled free to pool in the silence. “No. Forgive me, but I deem it best I return you to the hotel.”
Shock registered across her beautiful features. Rose quickly glanced down at herself. He reached out to help her dress, and she surprised him by slapping his hand away.
“Do not,” she warned in a chilled tone. Turning her back on him, she quickly dressed.
Aidan fisted his hands by his side, hating himself more with each passing second. He yearned to take Rose back into his arms. Kiss away the hurt he had caused by his lustful intentions and make amends.
“I am sorry, Rose,” he whispered, stunned he had spoken the words out loud.
When she turned around, though her eyes misted with unshed tears, he noted the fury and humiliation within. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I kissed you first.”
