As soon as time was mentioned, they both looked subdued. It was hanging over them.
“Well, you know what they say about orchards and getting a good harvest,” Celeste offered with a chuckle.
“What would that be?” Cullen asked.
“We pagans believe making love in the orchard will bring about a bountiful harvest.”
Cullen’s eyebrows lifted, and he looked at Sunny with interest.
Sunny laughed. “We’ll bear it in mind. Thanks, Celeste.”
Celeste chatted and watched them together for a while, marveling at how Cullen had adapted to his situation. Most of all, her heart warmed at the sight. They were very much in love. Her matchmaking work was done, as solid as if she’d stitched together the patchwork of their lives.
The magic here was now all their own.
She left them to consider her comments about the orchard, having a quiet chuckle on it as she walked home.
Even as she crossed the meadow, returning to the town, a familiar barrage of questions re-entered her mind. While she was with Sunny, it was crucial to reassure her. Once she was alone, doubts assailed her. Were they teaching Sunny everything she needed to know, and in the right manner?
Her thoughts flitted back to a conversation she’d had with Sunny’s grandmother, several years before. Hanna’s concern was Sunny being introduced to her magic in a practical way, rather than theoretical. She’d certainly been thrust into the deep end, following her dreams, and she’d coped well. Sunny would’ve dismissed much of what she was taught had it been by the book. She was a level-headed, down-to-earth young woman, and Celeste respected that. When Sunny grasped the breadth of her magical ability, she would make a very practical and grounded witch, who would not use her powers unjustly or recklessly.
By the time Celeste reached the town, the streets had grown quiet as dusk descended. The smell of the incoming tide was high in the air as she walked past The Cauldron and went down to the shore, intending to gather fresh seaweed as it swept in on the tide. However, the magical look of the sky caught her attention and she paused on the jetty before taking the steps down to the beach. Light glimmered on the horizon. Any moment now it would vanish.
“What a beautiful image you make,” a male voice announced, “looking out so wistfully at the fading day.”
Celeste turned on her heel, seeking out his image.
Fox was right behind her.
“Are you rendezvousing with a lover, hmm? And, if so, who is the lucky chap?” He gave a low chuckle.
How did he manage to sneak up on her? Normally she became aware of his presence before he materialized. She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, meaning to discourage him. She didn’t like it when he prowled at the edge of her territory, creeping up on her without warning. “What are you doing lurking around here, Fox? Your time is not yet nigh.”
“Observing. It’s rather entertaining, watching your efforts to tutor the girl.”
She pursed her lips, trying to contain her emotions before she replied. Of course he was observing, up there in the house on the hill, seeing all that went on in Raven’s Landing. The trouble was, she couldn’t get anything done if she thought about it too long. So she didn’t. She blanked out his presence as much she possibly could.
Right now though, she had to warn him off. The deadline loomed.
“Don’t underestimate the depth of affection between those two souls, true, deep and loyal affection. There’s a bond between them you wouldn’t understand. Not even I can pretend to have ever known such a bond.”
It felt good to pay him back in some small way for all he’d put her through. But even as she stood there despising him, she craved him too. Her entire body ached to be against him again, to be serenaded in his arms as they rode the night sky together.
Fox shrugged. “A deal’s a deal. I intend to take what I was traded.”
“Sunny is part of our community now.” She said it with more confidence than she felt. Sunny was headstrong and independent. “We’re in tune with the elements in a different way to you. Our power may not be as immense, but it grows and thrives. We are patches in a quilt put together by a community who cares.”
“What a pretty picture you paint.” He smirked, then gestured fluidly with his hands. “Away with you, Celeste. You were fun to be with at one time, now you’re just an annoying do-gooder without a cause.”
With that he was gone, leaving her wavering unsteadily at the edge of the incoming tide. Celeste swallowed.
As ever, the ache in her heart was immense.
She felt oddly hollow too, threatened, and fearful.
For a long moment she stared out across the dark shoreline, and had to battle the urge to stride into the cold, dark waves and end it all.
I’ll never be free of him, she acknowledged. Never.
Not unless she ended him herself.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“The meal is most delicious,” Cullen said as he mopped his bowl with the remaining pieces of bread on the table. Sunny had made him a delicious dinner—a strange concoction it was though, with everything jumbled together. Yet it had the most amazing taste and he felt enlivened from the heat it gave to his tongue.
Opposite him, Sunny smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Cullen nodded and wiped his mouth of the back of his hand, staring down at the empty bowl. “What was it you called it again? I must learn these names.”
“It’s a vegetarian chili.” The corners of her pretty mouth quirked.
“Chilly? But the meal leaves such heat in one’s mouth.”
She chuckled. “It doesn’t mean that, it’s named after the native word for the spice.”
“Ah.” Cullen didn’t fully understand, but accepted her words. He knew he could trust her.
Looking across the table, his desire for her seemed greater than usual. Was it the effect of the delicious food and wine, or did Celeste’s suggestion about the orchard stir his blood? A little of both, perhaps, and most of all Sunny—his love for her grew by the moment, simple as that. Despite their disagreements, and they’d had several, they were learning one another well.
Sunny cradled her wine glass in her hands, dreamy eyed. “How do you think people would react if they found out the truth about us, about you? I mean regular people, not the magical ones.”
He wondered why she was asking. Was it because her family were visiting soon? “What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, and shrugged.
“I think you do.”
“Maybe.” She looked fretful.
“I can tell you how folk would react if it were 1820. You saw enough. They were wary of you, a stranger. I fear they’d treat us as fools if we’d said you’d come from the future. Or worse, they’d say the madness had taken us.”
“Yes, you’re right, and I suspect it might be even worse here in our time. Some things have improved, some have regressed. There’s always the fear that science or the media would take too close an interest. This is our secret, our knowledge. Let’s keep it that way.”
“You mean when your family arrives, you want me to be extra careful?”
She nodded.
“I will be, do not fret.” He turned his wine glass in his hand, contemplating her across the kitchen table.
“What would your parents have made of me,” she asked, “if they’d met me in 1820?”
That was a difficult question, one he wasn’t quite sure he could answer without hurting her feelings. He shrugged. “It wouldn’t matter what they thought, not to me, ever. We could have found a decent vessel, set sail for the Americas together. Or we could have found a patch of land of our own to farm, somewhere to be together and thrive. The opinions of others have never influenced me.”
She smiled dreamily, apparently happy with his answer. “A little farm of our own, maybe with an orchard. It’s what we have now, effectively. A fruit farm. Maybe we could get a goat and some chickens?”
Was t
his the wine talking? he wondered. “I don’t see why not.”
He decided to change her thoughts to something more pleasant than other people’s opinions of them. “What do you make of this talk of the orchard and lovemaking?”
“Well,” Sunny replied with a naughty smile, “I’ve had to have more of an open mind recently. I used to be a very practical person.”
“You still are, my love.”
“Thank you for noticing. However, I accept the traditional and magical ways. So I say let’s keep the orchard tip in mind.”
“Now?” He sat up, preparing to make ready for a moonlight trip to the orchard.
She covered his hand with hers. “No. Let’s finish the wine and listen to some music first. I’m in the mood for dancing.”
They adjourned to the sitting area.
Cullen sat on the low sofa and watched as his beautiful brown-eyed wench hummed to the sounds from the strange box on the shelf, as if she knew them inside out, as if they made sense to her. Uncanny, he decided, because the sound was so odd, yet it brought him deep pleasure to see her enjoy it so much.
The music changed to someone wailing. “What in god’s name is this sound?”
“It’s chants and dances of the native Americans,” Sunny said, and smiled at his bewildered expression.
Her description didn’t help.
She flipped the music box and a different strange music filled the room. It seemed to come at him from all angles, as if there were musicians hiding in all corners of the room.
Sunny kicked off her shoes and danced barefoot on the rug. Her hips moved from side to side, drawing his attention to her womanly form. Her arms lifted, fingers rising through her long hair. “I’ve had one of Celeste’s teas,” she announced, “as well as the wine.” She giggled.
“Ah,” he said, relaxing back against his seat.
She hummed with the sounds, following the music.
“It’s strange,” he commented, “as if you were one of the instruments, as if the music comes through you.”
“This is how we dance now. We feel the music.” As she spoke, she drew her fingers up her centre, over her torso and between her breasts, her body swaying all the while, in time with the music.
Reaching out her hand to him, she beckoned. “Come on, dance with me.”
“How in heaven’s name am I supposed to dance to this?” Nevertheless, he rose to his feet.
“Oh my, are you blushing? Here, just watch me.” She moved across the floor, following the rhythm and moving her hips, her skirt swishing around her lovely legs.
Wrapping his arms around her, he buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent, committing it to his deepest memory. “I have never met anyone like you. You are so different, so unusual.”
She stayed in his arms, but drew back and looked up at him. There was sadness in her eyes.
“Have I said something wrong?” he asked, sensitive to any change in her mood.
She shook her head, but looked a little fretful. “Is that why you like me, Cullen?” she asked, looking at him from under her lashes. “Is it because I’m ‘different’?” Her expression was serious, as if it was most important to her.
“No, I love you because you are a brave woman with a passionate soul. You understand me as no other, and you speak boldly in ways that I appreciate.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, as if pleased.
She hummed to the music, and closed against him. “Tell me, does it concern you that we’re falling in love because a bunch of white witches have cast some spells?”
So that was it. “Hellfire, Sunny. You’re fretting over nothing.”
“It’s important for a woman to know these things.” She lifted her shoulders in a gentle manner, as if it was excuse enough.
“No,” he assured her, squeezing her in tight against him again. “Not at all. I would have fallen in love with you regardless, of that I’m sure. I’m grateful to them for their help in bringing us together, however. We were meant for each other, my beautiful brown-eyed wench.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I love you.”
“And I love you.” She melted against him.
He stroked her hair, comforting her. How could she doubt it? Had he not indicated it enough? Perhaps not. “It disturbs me to think on it, but I fear without their magic, and yours, we would not have passed one another during our lifetimes, and that troubles me most.”
She met his gaze, no longer moving to the music, and simply stared up, her eyes searching his. “That means so much to me. If you were taken away, if Fox sent you on that awful ship–”
He put his finger to her lips and shook his head. “Do not speak of it. It shall not be. I’ll not allow Fox to harm you.”
Comforted, she moved again, and began to sing along with the strange music. “They say we’re young and we don’t know, we won’t find out until we grow.” She threw her hair back, laughing. “I love this song,” she said, “and now you’re here...it’s perfect, listen.”
“You got me, and baby I got you. They say our love won’t pay the rent,” she sang. “I got flowers in the spring, I got you to wear my ring.”
Cullen almost slapped himself. A ring. He should have given her a ring. The song wasn’t wrong. A thought teased in his mind, a memory of his mother promising him her jewelry in trust, for the day he took a wife. He’d dismissed it as women’s nonsense, but now it made him wonder.
“And if I get scared,” Sunny continued, “you’ll always be around.” She put her hand to her heart and looked at him meaningfully. Her eyes glistened a moment, then she blinked them and shook her hair out again. “Don’t let them say your hair’s too long,” she sang, and weaved her fingers in his hair. “I don’t care, with you I can’t go wrong.”
Cullen laughed.
She meshed her fingers with his. “Put your hand in mine, there isn’t a hill or mountain we can’t climb.”
“That is true enough,” he said, beginning to see the method in the song.
“I got you babe,” she sang, “and...?”
She looked at him expectantly.
Cullen mustered himself, unsure what was required. “I got...you?”
Laughing in delight, she nodded and hugged him tightly.
Relieved, he locked her in his arms, moving with her, a silent vow on his lips. He would be patient, support her and be by her side, then he would wait no longer to fulfill the other cause in his soul—because his intention was to end that blackguard, Nathaniel Fox, with his sword, for everything he’d put Sunny through.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Celeste’s tea had indeed relaxed Sunny.
Combined with the wine, she felt mellow, like the reality of their situation was spinning away and all that was left was pleasure and happiness.
“Now,” Cullen said, moving closer and running his hands over her back as he drew her against him. “Let’s speak about something else of great importance.” He kissed her forehead, then her eyelids, and then he moved his mouth along her jaw line, his seductive touches claiming her.
Her head sank back. “Great importance?” she repeated vaguely, her nerve endings fluttering at his every touch.
He kissed her neck, running the tip of his tongue under her jaw, releasing a tremble in her limbs. “Yes, the orchard.”
“The orchard,” she repeated again, mindlessly this time, as his fingers wound their way through the buttons on her dress.
Humidity was fast gathering in her core.
“I’ve been taking a closer look, familiarizing myself with it.” He pushed her dress down from her shoulders. It fell away from her body, pooling on the floor. Her bra soon joined it. His head dipped, and he kissed her nipples, one and then the other, even while he attempted to carry on the conversation. “We want it to flourish again and I think we need to go about this in the ancient way.”
His hand tugged at the waistband of her panties.
“Cullen.” She rested her hands on hi
s upper arms, steadying herself with her fingers clasping around his warm, tanned muscles. “If you’re going to have a conversation with me and expect me to understand a word you’re saying, you’re going to have to stop undressing me at the same time.”
He grinned. “Ah, but I must. I’m readying you, Sunny love, because I want to couple with you.”
Hearing him say it always made her heart race. “Now that part I understand.”
He drew her against him and nodded toward the window, where the sun had disappeared and the moon now spilled through the tangled trees. “The things Celeste mentioned. I heard of it before. Back when I used to help the tenants with their land, I learned about such things. The Cornish believe in keeping the ancient ways alive, especially when it comes to nature.”
He truly was a Cornish man, keeping the traditions alive. “That’s true enough, even today,” she managed, while pivoting her hips against his, enjoying the feel of his hard body against hers and the promise of lovemaking to come.
“Sometimes the ancient ways are the best.” He cupped the back of her head in one strong palm.
That tickled her. “Oh, I’m not about to argue with that, especially with you in my arms.”
He smiled and stroked her hair. “Let’s follow nature’s way and bring the orchard back to life.”
She laughed as he knelt and finished stripping her, leaving her barefoot.
He looked for her agreement with a lifted eyebrow.
“Okay, whatever you say about the orchard, I’ll take your advice.” She sidled against him.
He darted one hand between her thighs. “You’re very hot.”
She was, but she shivered at his touch nevertheless. “It’s been a hot day, and now you’re making me even hotter, Mr. Thaine.”
“Let’s go outside into the night and cool off. There’s a full moon, the light is good.” He undid his shorts, stripping off alongside her. “Come on.” His gaze was demanding and possessive.
Outside, naked? She picked up her glass and took another swig of wine. She offered it to his lips and he drank from her hand.
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