The James River coursed beyond the trees, and he glimpsed the rushing water through the autumn trees. It looked different, stronger than the one he walked to every evening. He was eager to walk its bank, because the river had always been his favorite place.
He ran his hands across his chest. The clothing he had borrowed from his new brother fit pretty well, loose and easy to move in, but the fabric itched. He hoped he had managed to put everything on in the right way. He wanted to fit in, blending into the landscape like he’d always been there. No reason to bring more suspicion on himself than he already had. The door to the cottage opened, and Arleigh came out carrying a basket.
She still wore her grumpy face, and he was sorry he had been the cause of it, but the girl had secrets, and the secrets stood in the way of his heroic deeds. He probably shouldn’t have pushed her. Her personal life was none of his business, but damn he still wanted her. That spelled danger. He would have to find a way to talk himself out of what his heart wanted and find a way to convince his body nothing would happen. His body seemed pretty determined. Just looking at her…
Forget what you want, Kendall. You’re here to be a hero. Small talk. Make peace. Be friends. You need Arleigh’s help to get the girls back. Focus. You’re not here for romance. Romance would be a bonus.
He walked toward her, and she stopped dead.
“Stephen owns this whole island?” he asked.
“You own it. Stephen is dead.”
Curt. Cold. She turned and started to walk away. His eyes raked across her back. Okay, so she resisted. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he had been too hard on her. A woman had a right to change her mind. Maybe he’d been wrong about the kiss. Maybe she hadn’t felt what he felt.
She did feel it.
Arleigh whirled around. “What?”
He shook his head. She rolled her eyes, hefted her basket, and stomped away from him. Damn. He’d never had a problem with women before. They practically threw themselves at him. Okay, so it had been only half a day, but in Ryder Kendall’s world, time didn’t matter. One kiss, one touch, and sex became a nonissue. How many women had he slept with? More than he could remember. Nothing to be proud of, but true.
And then this little wench comes along and totally blows his doors off. The problem was he wanted this one, and he thought they would be spending the rest of their lives together. He could feel it.
Court her. Woo her. Convince her. Try, Kendall. For the first time in your life give an honest effort. Resort to flowers and candlelight if you have to.
He could do that. Talk to her. Listen to her. Ask about her life, hopes, dreams, fears. Easy. How long would it take to make a woman fall in love with him?
She’s already in love with you. Can’t you feel it?
“Would you please stop that?” Arleigh snapped.
“Stop what?”
“Talking to yourself.”
“Then I’ll talk to you.”
“’Tis busy I am,” Arleigh said. “And must you follow me around like a puppy?”
“I can follow you anywhere I want. I own you. You work; I’ll talk. You’ll never know I’m here.”
Arleigh glanced over her shoulder. “You’re very intrusive, Master Ken—”
“I can’t get over this place. In my time, we’re not farmers anymore, but we’ve tried to keep the property as true as possible. Caindale Cottage is on the National Register of Historic Places.”
“Indeed? How thrilling for you.”
Ryder smiled at her back. “We still own quite a chunk of the island, but when the plantation grew, craftsmen moved in and wanted to stay and bought land piece by piece. Nick Kendall made a killing. There’s a town now. Stores, churches, schools, a hospital, the works. We even have our own zip code. We still feel like it belongs to us, but it doesn’t really. We just act like it does. First Family and all.”
She gave him an odd look over her shoulder. He shut up. For a minute.
“It must have been something, owning this whole island.”
“Stephen kept busy,” she said. “We rarely saw him, but I miss him. He took care of us, kept us protected. He was kind.”
“I’m kind,” Ryder said.
“So you’ve said.”
“I’ve also said I’ll help you. That’s what I came to do. Shouldn’t you tell me how I can find Flynn?”
“He won’t let you near them.”
“That’s not going to stop me. I hoped for a little help on your part, but you don’t seem too concerned. Aren’t you worried?”
Arleigh whirled around. He had finally struck a nerve.
“Of course I’m worried, but Cameron made it very clear I’m not to try to get them back.”
“So you’re going to let three little girls be held against their will? That doesn’t sit right with me.”
“He said there will be consequences.”
“Oh, there’ll be consequences all right, but Flynn’s the one that’s going to pay. I’ll talk to him. Somewhere inside of that psychopath has to be a rational man. I’ll go to the governing council. See the governor. Whatever it takes. They’re my kids, damn it!”
“You don’t know him like I do. He has power you couldn’t imagine.”
“I’m a smart guy. I’ll think of something.” He put his hands on his hips and glanced around. “So how do I get off the island? I can’t believe how big the river seems. In my time, there’s been a lot of erosion, and the river’s changed its course. We have a causeway now. I have a feeling you don’t have one of those.”
Arleigh hefted her basket and continued to walk toward the garden. He followed behind her, his glance roaming everywhere. He actually loved it. Peaceful, idyllic, no traffic, no noise, no airplanes overhead. There were no car engines, no stereos blaring music that abused his taste. The birds were singing, and the river water roared in the distance. The tranquility amazed him. The autumn leaves crackled, drifting to the ground and—
He crashed into Arleigh. She had stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him. He tried to take the basket from her, but she pulled away.
“What now?” he asked.
“You are still talking nonsense. I don’t know what you’re going to say from one moment to another. How do you think you can help me when you talk like the village idiot?”
“I’m trying,” he said.
She dropped the basket on the ground and put her hands on her hips.
“Then what is a causeway? A car? An airplane? What is a stereo?”
He seriously had to watch himself with his bad habits. “Was I talking out loud?”
“Aye, unfortunately. You don’t seem to e’er stop talking. But I would feel more comfortable if you talked about things that were real. All the good intentions aren’t going to help me if you don’t stay in this world.”
“I will stop. Immediately.”
She pursed her lips. “Are you a witch?”
“Right family, but, no, I’m adopted.”
She waved her hands around, babbling about crazy people. Her patience had reached an end. And he had business here. He kept forgetting that. In the past, for a reason. He had to remember his mission. But damn it, look at her.
She looked like something out of a movie. Women didn’t look like her on his Trinity. Her face looked flawless without makeup. Her hair rioted over her shoulders, gorgeous without a stylist. She had perfect features and clear skin. Her cheeks flushed when angry, as she was now, but the charm and nostalgia of her appearance overwhelmed him and, he had a hard time taking her seriously.
Even her clothes were romantic and sexy as hell. Her pale yellow skirt blew around her legs. Her breasts peeked over the edge of that leather corset, revealing creamy skin that made him want to suck on her nipples until she moaned. And he wanted to feel that hair graze across his bare skin. It tumbled around her face, free and—
“Shouldn’t you be wearing some kind of hat?” he asked.
She stopped talking in midbabble. “What?”
> “For some reason, all that hair, it seems like you should be wearing some kind of hat. I thought it was pretty common.”
She ran her hands over her hair, smoothing down the wild strands. She frowned, but the anger had dissipated. “I look common?”
He reached out and snatched a strand of her hair. He moved closer. “No, you look very uncommon. Beautiful.”
He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and kissed her gently. Her lips parted beneath his. He wanted to reach up and run his fingers across the creamy swell of her breast, gather her in his arms, lift her skirt and feel the heat he thought her little pussy would hold. He wanted to keep her for himself, forever. Instead, he pulled away and bent down to pick up the basket.
“Truce,” he said. “I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.”
He held out his hand, and she looked at it strangely. Finally, she placed her fingers in his palm, and he shook her hand. His fingers twined around hers and she glanced up at him.
“’Tis a promise I be needing,” she said.
“Anything.”
“Don’t go to Jamestown. Don’t try to find him, and don’t try to get the girls back.”
“I can’t leave them there, Arleigh. I think I’m here to protect them.”
“If you go against his wishes, he’ll…well, he doesn’t have to physically hurt them to ruin their lives. There are so many things Cameron can do, things you couldn’t possibly imagine. We have to wait a little while. He’s already so angry with me, and he’ll use you as an excuse to hurt me and them. Please promise.”
She squeezed his hand.
“Okay. I’ll give it a couple of days. But no longer, Arleigh. After that, I’m going to cause him more grief than he’s ever seen. Now, what’s the basket for?”
“We have to eat. ’Tis for the garden.”
“Couldn’t we get Chinese take-out?”
Her eyes flared for one moment, and he laughed. He made the sign of the cross on his chest.
“Last time. I swear.”
Chapter 13
“Don’t you think it’s time you told me what’s going on around here?”
Arleigh glanced up. He had finished his supper. She had hoped to keep him occupied a while longer. She didn’t know where to start.
“Can I get you some more?” she asked.
“No, I’m probably dying right now of cholesterol overdose, but it tasted pretty good. I take back what I said earlier. You’re a better cook than Faith will ever be. What the—”
He stood up and walked toward the hearth. She jumped to her feet so fast the bench tipped over with a loud crash. A flurry of lights flickered in the hearth, and the jar sent out a splash of color. He picked up the jar and peered inside. Arleigh knew it would appear empty and dark, but she couldn’t take any chance with Adelina’s welfare. She tried to take the jar from his hand, but Ryder held tight. Panic shot through her.
“Please don’t,” she said. “You’ll scare Adelina.”
“I hope an adelina is not what I think it is.”
“She’s my friend,” Arleigh said.
Ryder’s face paled. “Oh, man, please tell me you have an imaginary friend that lives in a jar, ’cause the alternative is too strange.”
She didn’t like the look on his face. He looked like he might swoon on her floor.
“Adelina is not imaginary,” she said. “She’s a…a faery.”
“A faery, sure. But she couldn’t possibly be imaginary. Please tell me what I saw the other night, what I thought I saw—”
Ryder peered into the jar, but his hands shook. Arleigh took the jar and put it on the table before he dropped it.
“Adelina, you can come out. He won’t hurt you. No, no, he won’t. I promise.”
Ryder watched the jar, his face pale, his mouth dropping like a hooked fish. A shimmering pink glow rose above the jar and rode over the lip like a fog. Ryder backed away from the table.
“This is a little too much. First the booze. Then a one-way ticket to paradise. Now a concussion. I knew you hurt me with that pan.”
Adelina rose above the jar and hovered. Her wings fluttered gaily. She didn’t like human men, but Adelina obviously wanted to impress him. Her golden hair wrapped around her body, and her blue eyes twinkled.
“Adelina is very happy to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Ryder mumbled.
Ryder dropped to the bench. He looked a little sick, like he had eaten something that didn’t agree with him. Adelina’s light flickered. Arleigh turned to Ryder and looked him up and down. His face grew more ashen. Afraid he would swoon, she shoved his head down, forcing it between his knees.
“Adelina wants to know if you’re a warrior.”
Ryder shook his head and glanced up. Arleigh shoved him again. He talked to the floor. “I’ve never been in the military. Thought about the Air Force once because I’ve flown a lot. My dad and I are both pilots. Well, my dad was a pilot. He’s dead now. His plane crashed.”
Arleigh tapped her foot. “I’m sorry about your father. Sorrier still to hear you’ve flown, but I can do nothing about your delusions. Remember the question?”
He raised his head and nodded slowly, his eyes locked on Adelina. “No, I’m not a warrior. I’ve never been in a war.”
“You don’t have to have been in battle to be a warrior,” Arleigh said. The man was so incredibly dense! “Adelina wants to know if you can fight. If you’re strong. Brave. Valiant.”
Ryder shrugged, preoccupied with inspecting the faery. He reached out and tentatively touched Adelina. The pulse of her light beat brighter, and she wrapped one of the strands of her hair around his finger. Ryder smiled and glanced toward Arleigh.
“I’m basically a pacifist. I took karate for years, but karate isn’t really about fighting. It’s about discipline. I did get some trophies, though. I run track and play basketball sometimes. Coach at the high school. Work out at the gym. I’m pretty strong, I guess.”
“She doesn’t understand any of that,” Arleigh said. “And neither do I. You promised.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. He grew bolder and tickled Adelina in the belly. She giggled, the sound stirring the pink aura into swirls of fuchsia. “Am I having a conversation with a faery?”
“Aye,” Arleigh said.
“Okay, just wanted to be sure.” He leaned closer. “She’s so tiny. And pretty, in a Lord of the Rings kind of way. What makes her glow like that?”
“She’s a sprite. Most sprites glow. ’Tis how they move, how they communicate.”
“It’s very pretty. I seem to remember other colors.”
Arleigh laughed. “Aye, there are many colors. Would you like to see?” Ryder nodded and started to stand. Arleigh put her hand out. “Don’t get up. ’Twill be a shock.”
Ryder nodded and lowered himself back down. Arleigh went to the hearth. The fire glowed softly, so she poked her head inside. At her whisper, the room flooded with brilliant light that flashed and sparked with dozens of colors. The lights flew around the room, darting low to the floor and back to the ceiling. They circled near Ryder, hovering and gliding on the air like butterflies trapped in a current. None of them touched him. He sat very still, but his head turned rapidly, trying to track the lights.
“Beautiful,” he said. “Are you sure they’re real?”
“Aye,” Arleigh laughed. “Very real.”
“Are leprechauns real, too?”
“Aye, but I’ve not seen one here in Virginia. Did you want to meet one?”
Ryder shuddered. “No, I’ve seen the movies. Scary. I’ll pass.”
The lights settled into a comforting rainbow glow. Adelina perched on the lip of her jar and watched Ryder intently then her little head swung back toward Arleigh, who watched the pulses that flickered through her body.
This could be the one that ends our problems, Leanan sidhe.
* * * *
They spent several hours entertaining her little faery friends. For the entire evening Ryder fel
t comfortable because Arleigh seemed happy and exhibited none of the tension he had felt pouring from her in waves. She smiled and laughed, introducing each one of the tiny creatures to him. How she kept them straight in her head amazed him. Each had a name more complicated than the one before, and other than the colors of their auras, they all looked the same to him. The only two he could keep straight were Adelina and a little purple one called Idaera, particularly cute and very shy.
He thought maybe for the first time he saw the real Arleigh Donovan. She had a natural exuberance, a radiant happiness that filled the room and touched everything around her. Her laughter infected everyone and, though most was at his expense, he reveled in her humor and delighted in the pure joy that sparked between her and her little friends. Her beauty shown when she was happy.
She touched him throughout the evening, small caresses across his shoulders, her body leaning toward his each time she giggled. She ruffled his hair when he said something particularly stupid, and once she fell across his lap in laughter and pulled his face to hers, kissing him with an exuberance that made his cock hard without his consent. When he wrapped his arms around her, she had nestled against him like she had always belonged there. He fell even harder for her, and for a brief moment, his hopes soared. He wanted to get her in his bed and thought she might say yes.
But when the faeries settled into the hearth, Arleigh changed. She nodded while he talked, but she barely listened. She stared into the fire until he wanted to get up and shake her or perhaps hold her and beg her to be happy. He didn’t know which one. When she rose from the bench and leaned over to bank the fire, he followed her and tucked his hands around her waist. She stiffened slightly, but finally she turned in his arms, refusing to look at him.
“Let me go, Master Kendall.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, Arleigh. Why are you so nervous around me? Don’t you like my touch?”
“No,” she murmured.
She shivered slightly under his hands, shaking her head to prove how much she meant it. A woman didn’t vibrate under your hands unless she wanted more.
Carlton, Amber - Trinity Magic (Siren Publishing Romance) Page 13
