Bound by Song (Cauld Ane Series, #4)

by Piper Davenport

  Grace lowered her hands and relaxed against the seat. Max squeezed her hand. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, that was a little intense. You really are a good driver.”

  Max chuckled. “Thank you. Let’s get you inside so we can eat and you can go to bed.”

  Max gathered the food and Grace’s iPad, exited the car, and opened her door. The sound of screaming women could still be heard as they were let into the private entrance of the hotel and ushered up the secret elevator to the suite.

  Once inside the room, Grace let out a sigh of relief at the quiet. She could feel a migraine coming on, but willed it away. She didn’t want a stupid headache to ruin her time with Max.

  “Beer or wine?” Max asked.

  “Beer, please,” Grace said as she unpacked the food and arranged it on the table.

  Max set a bottle of something imported in front of her and sat down to eat. Grace was having a really tough time keeping her eyes open, but the food was good, even lukewarm, and the company was definite eye candy, so she forced herself to focus on the moment.

  “You look shattered, sweetheart,” Max said.

  Grace forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just dealing with the inevitable energy crash after an adrenaline-rushed night.”

  “You look a little pale. Are you feeling all right?”

  “I have a bit of a headache. It’ll go away. I have some pills in my purse. I’ll take one before bed.”

  His phone buzzed and he scowled as he looked at the screen. “Sorry, love. I have to take this.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Hey, Con,” Max said, and slid from his chair. As he listened, he squeezed the back of Grace’s neck and kissed her temple. Her headache slipped away like magic as he continued to massage her. “Aye. No. Aye.” Max sighed. “Aye, we can. A week.” Max glanced at Grace and then nodded. “Aye. Okay. Thanks. Yes. ’Bye.” He hung up and slid his phone back in his pocket.

  “That didn’t sound good,” Grace said.

  Max shook his head. “Niall and I have to return to Scotland tomorrow. Personal matter.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “Not long,” he promised.

  “Everything okay?”

  “It will be.”

  “I’ll turn in, then,” Grace said, and rose to her feet. “You probably need to get some rest as well.”

  “It’s fine, love,” he said, and took her hand. “I just have to make a quick call and then I’m all yours.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I want to spend as much time with you as I can before I leave.”

  Grace nodded. “Twist my arm.”

  * * *

  Max grinned at her and called his brother.

  “Hey, Max. Did Con call you?” Niall asked.

  “Aye,” Max said.

  “So, you’re coming with me then?”

  Max stepped into the privacy of his bedroom. “Aye. The timing’s shite, but we need to deal with this and then I’m free.”

  “What about Grace?”

  “She’ll go home as planned,” Max said, lowering his voice. “I can’t subject her to this.”

  “I don’t blame you. We’ll get Kinnon buried and we’ll be able to put all of this behind us.”

  “I hope so.” Max squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m done with that little bastard. He deserves what he got.”

  “Max.”

  “Sorry, Nye. But sometimes the truth hurts.”

  “I’m not going to psychoanalyze you tonight, brother,” Niall said. “So, I’ll just say good night, eh?”

  Max grunted in response.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Night,” Max said, and hung up. He returned to the living room to find Grace asleep on the sofa. He couldn’t help but smile. She was so beautiful. So peaceful. He knelt beside her and slipped her hair away from her face.

  Her eyes flew open and she sat up.

  “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  She yawned. “No, it’s okay. I should probably go to bed.”

  “Stay. It’s okay if you fall asleep.” He sat beside her. “Let’s watch a movie.”

  She gave him a tired smile. “Okay, but something I don’t have to think about.”

  “I think I can sort that out.”

  Max grabbed the remote while Grace removed her boots and found a blanket to get warm. Once the movie was chosen, Max wrapped the blanket tightly around her and then pulled her close, settling her head on his lap. He frowned when he felt her headache return and went about healing it again. As soon as she reached ár mökunnar, his healing would stick. Once they were bound, he wouldn’t even need to be with her in order to ease her discomfort. All could be done through their connection. For now, however, touching would have to be enough.

  She sighed as he stroked her hair, and within minutes, she was asleep, the movie quickly forgotten.

  Max was far too comfortable with her in his lap to move, so he finished the movie, a rather boring action one, and flipped off the television. Before he could talk himself out of it, he lifted Grace into his arms, surprised she didn’t wake up, and carried her to his bedroom.

  He hoped she wouldn’t kill him, but he didn’t want to be without her for a second, especially since he’d be gone for at least a week. Tucking her into the large bed, he climbed on top of the covers beside her, and pulled her close. His last coherent thought was how quickly he could get used to this.

  * * *

  Grace came awake with a moan. Her head felt like it was going to split in two.

  “Grace?” Max mumbled.

  She let out a quiet squeak of shock, realizing suddenly that she wasn’t in her own bed. “Max, what am I doing in here?” she asked as she sat up, relieved she was still clothed.

  “I just wanted to hold you for a bit.” He sat up and reached for her hand. “You okay?”

  “Migraine. I’ll just take a pill and go back to bed...my bed.”

  Max reached for her. “Wait, baby. Let me see if I can help.”

  He tugged on her hand, pulling her onto her his chest and wrapping a hand around the back of her neck. Within seconds, her headache was gone and she let out a deep sigh. “That’s so good.”

  He kissed her head and continued to massage her.

  She pressed closer to him. “You’re lovely to cuddle. Better than a pillow.”

  He chuckled and stroked her back. “Are you saying I need to work out? That I’m soft?”

  She ran a finger over his abdomen. “Not with abs like this you don’t.”

  “If you keep doing that, sweetheart, you’ll have to leave.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Or get naked, because you’re driving me to distraction right now.”

  “Sorry.” She smiled and kissed his chest. “What time do you have to leave tomorrow...or today?”

  “I’ll have time to walk you to your gate, then the band and I will leave.”

  “The beauty of having your own plane, huh?”

  He smiled. “Yes.”

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “What makes you ask that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, actually. I just get the feeling you’re sad.”

  He studied her before shifting to face her. “Niall and I have to bury our brother.”

  She gasped and sat up. “What?”

  Max dragged his hands over his face. “Kinnon. My little brother. He died of a drug overdose two weeks ago.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” Grace said. “Why didn’t you cancel the tour?”

  “Because I had to find you.”

  She shook her head. “Max. Family should come first.”

  “You are my family.” He reached for her hand. “Besides, there was nothing we could do about it until the authorities released his body, love. It was actually easier being here.”

  Grace squeezed his hand. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled and pulled her back onto his chest. �
�This helps.”

  “Are you saying that to keep me in your bed?”

  “Ah, if only it were that easy.” He kissed the crown of her head. “It really does help, love. You center me.”

  “You’re determined to make me fall in love with you, aren’t you?”

  He chuckled. “You’re already in love with me.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes. You are. Admit it.”

  She drew hearts over his chest and sighed. “I think I am.”

  He lifted her chin. “You sound very upset by that.”

  “I do, huh?” she admitted. “It’s too soon, Max.”

  “It’s not, Grace.”

  “It is for me. I think it is anyway...I’ve never been in love before, not even with Trey, and I wonder how long this will last.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just...well...I don’t know if I’m reacting to your fame or not. What woman wouldn’t be affected by a rich, gorgeous, incredibly talented man paying attention to her?”

  “Baby, you’re not just any woman,” he said.

  She sat up again. “When you say that, especially when you’re holding me, I believe you. I guess I’m just having a hard time reconciling the countless other women you’ve said that to.”

  “Damn it, Grace.” He sat up and faced her. “I haven’t ever said that to anyone before.”

  “Okay,” she said, and raised her hands in surrender, “I believe you.”

  “Sorry,” he grumbled, and reached for her hand. “I don’t mean to growl at you.”

  “I just don’t get it.”

  “What don’t you get?”

  She bit her lip. “Why me?”

  “Grace, you’re beautiful. And not just physically. You’re sweet and pure, and talented in your own right, and I love you. More than you will ever know.”

  “But you’ve had a lot of beautiful women, and I’m sure many of them were just as nice as me, you just didn’t get to know them very well.” She cocked her head. “What about the media and their reports of all of those women? The latest poll has you at a hundred women in the last five years. What was wrong with them?”

  He stared at her for several tense seconds before responding, “This is a conversation we need to wait to have.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t tell you everything until you turn twenty-five.”

  “What? Really?” She frowned. “Okay, I was not expecting that as an answer.”

  He stroked her cheek. “I want to tell you, Grace, but I just can’t right now. It’s not about trust or past relationships or anything like that. But you won’t fully be able to understand it until I can prove some things to you, and that can’t happen until your birthday.”

  “You’re not going to tell me you’re part of some weird religious cult that has some fixation with twenty-five-year-old women, are you?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing religious about anything I’m going to tell you. Purely natural. I promise.”

  “Will you even be back in time for my birthday?”

  “Definitely.” He smiled. “No way in hell I’m missing it, Grace. You can count on that.”

  “Even if it means spending it with my family? They always do a big family dinner.”

  He chuckled. “Especially if it’s with your family. I need to make your father feel comfortable with you marrying me.”

  “Max, stop it.”

  “Why? You’re going to marry me, Grace.”

  “Am I?”

  “Aye, you are.” He pulled her close. “And when we’re finally together, you’ll understand why this is perfect.”

  “What are you going to do without me for a week?” she retorted.

  “I have no fucking clue,” he admitted. “I’ll take care of my brother and come back as soon as I can. I want him out of my life for good.”

  She let out a quiet gasp. “You don’t really mean that, Max.”

  “I do, Grace. It’s complicated, but he deserved what he got.”

  Grace forced away her shock, knowing that people processed guilt in different ways. She’d give Max the chance to bury his brother before pressing him for details about why there was so much hurt there. She forced a smile, kissed him quickly, and settled herself back against him, her back to his front.

  He wrapped an arm around her and whispered, “Tha gaol agam ort.”

  “Is that Icelandic?” she asked.

  “No. It’s Gaelic.” He kissed her shoulder. “It means, ‘I love you.’”

  “Just how many languages do you speak?”

  “Fluently, three.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Really?”

  “English, French, and Gaelic.”

  “So, you’re not fluent in Icelandic as well?”

  “No.”

  She turned away from him again. “Well, thank goodness. I was afraid you were going to be completely out of my league.”

  Max chuckled and kissed the back of her neck. “Go to sleep. Everything will be revealed before you know it. Just hang in there with me, okay?”

  “Okay, Max. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He continued to whisper to her in Gaelic, and she thought she might have heard a few French words as well, but not being an expert in foreign dialects, she wasn’t sure. His voice had a calming effect on her, or maybe it was him holding her, but either way, she lost her battle with wakefulness and succumbed to sleep.

  THE MORNING OF Kinnon’s funeral, Max moved through the day on automatic pilot. His emotions were jumbled to the point of overload. He and Niall had been given special permission to perform a traditional Viking funeral on Loch Ness, and Max was grateful his brother had taken care of the arrangements.

  The Gunnachs would attend, as would Bruce, but no one else. Max stood by the water while Niall waited in the parking lot for their friends to arrive. Max heard the group approach and let out a deep breath, relieved that he no longer had to stare at Kinnon, who had been laid out on a wooden raft, dressed in MacMillan tartan and battle wear, his hands folded over his chest. He looked more like the brother he’d lost long ago, not the drug addicted shell he’d become.

  Pepper smiled as she slid her hand into the crook of his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. Max was surprisingly comforted by her touch and laid his hand over hers. He desperately wished Grace was there, but was also glad she wasn’t being subjected to any of this.

  Niall said a few nice words that meant nothing to Max, and then the two of them pushed the glorified casket away from the bank. The Gunnach men, along with Max, Niall, and Bruce each grabbed a bow and arrow, and lit the ends of the arrows. One at a time, they shot their arrows into the casket and watched as it was engulfed in flames.

  Max nodded when Connall slipped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a quick hug. The only thoughts consuming him at the moment were of Moira. Had it not been for Kinnon, she’d still be alive. He would not mourn his brother. He didn’t deserve it.

  Declining Payton’s offer to return with them and help, Max and Niall headed back to Max’s house. Max dragged himself to his room, uninterested in doing anything other than speaking to Grace. He checked his watch, relieved that it wasn’t too late to call her. He removed his jacket and sat down on the edge of his bed.

  * * *

  Grace climbed out of the warmth of her own bed and rushed to the bathroom she shared with her sister. In the past four hours, she’d managed to purge her body of every nutrient that had ever entered it. She groaned as she haphazardly washed her face and crawled back to bed. She didn’t remember ever being this sick before and felt like she might never recover. Right now would have been the perfect time for Max and his healing hands.

  She heard a knock at her door and her mother entered when bid. “Hi, honey. I’m just checking to see if I can get you anything.”

  “No thanks. In fact, it might a good idea to stay away, Mom. I’m diseased.”

  “Oh, my sweet girl.” Her mom chuckled sympatheti
cally as she sat on the edge of the bed and set a few things on the nightstand. “I brought you some crackers and a lemon-lime pop and cold meds. I thought they might help with the body aches.”

  “Thanks.” Grace buried her face in her pillow. “But I probably won’t keep them down.”

  “Well, I’ll leave them here for when you think you might.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Grace’s cell phone buzzed on her nightstand. Her mother leaned forward to see the screen. “It’s Max.”

  “I can’t talk to him right now, Mom.”

  Without prompting, her mother answered the call. “Max? It’s Lila, Grace can’t come to the phone right now.”

  “What are you doing?” Grace groaned.

  “No, hon,” her mom continued. “She’s actually quite sick. She has a nasty cold and a tummy bug of some form.”

  Oh, great. Now he’s going to imagine me puking my guts out...or worse. Way sexy.

  “Mom,” she snapped. “Hang up.”

  “What was that, Max?” her mother continued, ignoring Grace. “It started almost as soon as she got home. I don’t think the flight went well, either.”

  Grace’s stomach betrayed her again and she had to make a run for the bathroom before she could kill her mother. Not that she had the strength, but still, the woman was going down.

  She returned to her room to find her mother picking up discarded clothes. “Mom, you don’t need to do that.”

  “Oh, honey, it’s all right. You should rest. Max said he’d call you tomorrow.”

  Grace climbed into her bed. “You do know that I’m a grown adult, right, Mom?”

  Her mother turned and gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, honey. I really do want to help.”

  Grace sighed. “I know. And believe me, I appreciate it. But could you please not answer my phone? And please, please, please, don’t tell my pseudo-boyfriend I’m puking my guts out. It’s not a visual I want to put in his head.”

  “Yes, in hindsight, I see what you’re saying.” Her mother smiled. “How’s it going on the relationship front?”

  Grace grabbed a tissue and sighed. “Confusing at times, and then at other times rainbows and puppies and perfectly wonderful. He treats me like a queen, but he’s not always nice to others in his vicinity.”

  “What do you mean? Is he cruel?”