by Laurel Kerr
Magnus lifted his head to discover June skidding toward him. Her arms pinwheeled in the air in a desperate attempt to gain traction. Magnus quickly glanced at the floor and saw it was slick. From the scent, he guessed the honey badger had knocked over the cod oil Bowie had ordered for Sorcha.
“Sweet heavens to Betsy, I can’t stop!”
Magnus barely had time to release his tentative hold on Honey before June crashed into him with bruising force. Although he outweighed her by more than a few pounds, his crouched position had him at a disadvantage. He could have kept his own balance if he’d rolled her over his shoulder, but that would have pitched her into the wall. Unlike her slender form, his massive body was built to take an impact. Grabbing June the best he could, he used his bulk to cushion her fall.
When she landed at an angle, spread-eagle on top of him, he could only pray his towel hadn’t slipped…or fallen off completely.
* * *
June had expected to slam into a concrete-block wall. Smashing into Magnus—a wet, practically naked Magnus—felt almost as hard, but so much more interesting. As she lay feeling the strong planes of his body, she debated how to extricate herself. She’d fallen splayed over him at an odd angle, preventing her from easily pushing herself off. She didn’t want to risk jamming a knee or poking an elbow into a vulnerable part of his anatomy, and considering his state of undress, wiggling away didn’t seem advisable either. Although June wouldn’t mind a glimpse of a naked Magnus, she didn’t want to embarrass him by knocking off the towel precariously draped over his waist.
She’d caught only the briefest glimpse of his body as she’d careened toward him. Even with her concentration focused on stopping herself, a part of her had appreciated the glory that was Magnus Gray in the almost nude. His beautifully sculpted muscles perfectly suited his large frame. A woman could spend an entire day exploring the ridges of his chest and abs. Of that, June had no doubt.
Even through her clothing, she could feel the lines of his muscles pressing against her. Her body basked in the glorious sensation as liquid lust pooled inside her. She wanted to squirm against him but held back. She didn’t want to accost the man. Not that his body wasn’t reacting to hers. His hard length pressed insistently against her, and it took all her concentration not to respond to the instinctual invitation.
Instead, she kept the rest of her body perfectly still as she twisted her head to glance at Magnus’s face. His eyes were pressed tightly shut.
“Are you okay or did you get the wind knocked out of you again?”
One blue eye popped open, then the other. “I’m fine, lass.”
June smiled. “I seem to have gotten us in a bit of a pickle.”
“Aye.”
“I’m not sure the best way to climb off you.”
“I can fix that.” Then, in one fluid motion, Magnus hoisted her into the air. As she levitated over his body for a second, she took the moment to appreciate the sight of him stretched below her, all glorious straining muscle. Magnus possessed the beauty and perfection of a fine sculpture…with a thousand times more sensuality. When he deposited her gently on the floor, she instantly missed his warmth.
“Thanks,” she said.
He nodded brusquely and carefully pushed to his feet, his hand gripping the towel to keep it in place. Pity.
June started to stand herself, but no sooner had she begun to rise than her feet slipped again. What in tarnation had that little rascal knocked over? It was slicker than a banana peel on a freshly waxed floor. June pumped her arms again, hoping this time she’d find better traction. Just as she thought she’d fall on her rear, two strong hands snaked around her waist. But as soon as Magnus righted her, her sneakers squeaked ominously, and she began to slide dangerously. Without thinking, she automatically wrapped her arms around Magnus’s strong torso. And that…well, that triggered a very different instinctual response. She reveled in the sensation of his warm, wet flesh. The contrast between his smooth skin and the coiled strength sent a thrill of delight skipping down her spine. Before June could stop herself, her hands danced across his back, and she felt his muscles bunch and tighten.
She glanced up then. The tension in Magnus’s jaw had nothing to do with irritation and everything to do with need. His blue eyes practically burned into hers.
She wanted him. Wanted him inside her. Wanted to feel his delicious weight against her. Wanted to experience his shudder as he climaxed.
Her mouth grew so dry, it felt like she’d inhaled sand. She swallowed. Hard. Then wet her lips. Magnus’s eyes flashed as a groan—deep, guttural, and consuming—escaped from him. It echoed the desperate desire billowing inside June.
* * *
The lass was trying to kill him.
Bewitched, Magnus watched as June’s tongue licked her plump lower lip. He wanted to taste her. All of her.
She felt so good against him, her body both slender and lush. He yearned to touch and taste and bury himself deep inside her softness. He could have resisted. If his upbringing had taught him anything, it was how to deny himself, how to live without.
But then she’d glanced at him with those green eyes, and he couldn’t let go. Not when he spied need swirling in those emerald depths…a need mirroring his own. A lass had never looked at him like that. Then again, he’d never experienced this level of primal lust either.
Magnus prided himself on being a deliberate man. He did not trust strong emotions in any form. For all of his da’s quiet stillness, the man had moments of blinding rage when he reacted without thought or reason. And the villagers all said his mum’s folks knew only how to live in excess. They drank too much, danced too hard, loved too easily, and fought too violently. Her family had never displayed more than a passing interest in him, and for that, he’d felt grateful.
But one emerald glance, and Magnus’s carefully constructed caution drifted away as easily as autumn leaves floating on the tide. He didn’t think. Didn’t consider the consequences. He just dipped his head and tasted the tempting sweetness of her lips.
Sensation exploded, ricocheting through his body. Need kindled into blazing passion. It consumed him. Instead of slaking his desire, the kiss only fueled its dizzying madness. He’d never experienced anything of its kind. It was heady and freeing, like he was rushing through the sea on a racing boat, the wind full in his face as he sliced through the waves at full tilt.
He pulled June close, her clothes already damp from his skin. That knowledge only fueled his lust. His mouth covered hers, and he drank like a man marooned for days with no water. It was mental and magic all at the same damn time. He’d spent his whole life trying to avoid people, and now he couldn’t get close enough to this one fae lass.
* * *
If Magnus’s strong arms hadn’t been banded around her back, June would have melted to the floor faster than a Popsicle in August. Heavens to Betsy, the man could kiss like the devil. And his body…his body was as deliciously decadent as warm pecan pie topped with French vanilla ice cream. And she wanted a bite. Or maybe two.
For once, June’s mind had stopped thinking. She just felt. Like ingredients to a good jalapeño jam, sensations swirled through her, spicy and hot with a hint of sweetness. And just like the jelly, Magnus’s kisses warmed her belly, leaving her craving more.
Her hands moved along the strong planes of his back to rest in his dark-brown curls. Their softness warred with Magnus’s toughness, and she reveled in their silkiness.
Magnus held her slightly off the ground to make up for their height difference, causing her breasts to press against his hard chest. The wet fabric of her shirt molded to June’s skin. She felt almost naked but didn’t mind. She wanted no barriers between them. If it hadn’t meant breaking the embrace, she would have pulled off her shirt and tossed it aside.
As if sensing her need, Magnus slid her down the length of his body. She made a sound
in the back of her throat that turned into a cry when she felt the insistent ridge of his erection. He groaned too, his body bent over hers. A thrill pulsated through June at the feel of his powerful form surrounding hers.
“Is everything all right in there?”
The sound of Lou’s voice had the effect of an upended water bucket. Magnus thrust her away with such suddenness, she almost slipped again. He held her at arm’s length, his chest heaving as he drew in harsh breaths. His intense blue eyes seemed to bore into her. June watched as the passion in them turned into shock and then dismay.
He hadn’t wanted to kiss her this time either, June realized with a sharp pang that punctured her bubble of bliss. The man had simply lost control, and that obviously unsettled him.
Although June wasn’t particularly pleased that she’d almost jumped a man with Nan and Lou only a couple of doors away in the maintenance facility, she didn’t feel any of the regret registering in Magnus’s eyes. Hurt welled within June as sudden and as intense as the previous lust. She didn’t know how to deal with it, so she shoved it deep inside and smiled.
“Thank you for breaking my fall twice,” she said. “Landing on you was sure better than hitting the floor or the wall.”
* * *
What the hell had he just done? Magnus stared at June in disbelief. He never lost his internal balance. Never.
“Steady on” was his motto. His creed. His sanity. It had carried him through childhood and the darkest period of his life. It had propelled him to leave Bjaray and finally to find some degree of peace. Yet one unguarded moment with the lass, and his emotions were churning faster than a deadly waterspout, ready to suck in an unsuspecting sailor.
Aye, the lass was dangerous for all her sweetness.
She lived in the sun, and Magnus dwelled in the mists. She’d try dragging him into the brightness if he got too close, and he preferred the shadows. He knew them and could avoid their lurking specters.
June was the kind of woman who’d burst into a man’s life, rearranging it. When he left Sagebrush, he’d be forever trying to shove everything back into place. Living alone meant living in peace.
June smiled merrily. He had no idea how the lass could go from kissing with the passion of a selkie reunited with her long-lost lover to a jolly mate. Based on her enthusiastic participation, she’d clearly felt some attraction, but it had not shaken her. Not like him. Maybe she was used to the dizzying madness, or perhaps she had not felt it as keenly as he had.
While Magnus tried to pull himself together, June glanced over her shoulder and shouted, “Magnus and I are right as rain, Lou. One of the honey badgers just knocked over the supplies, and I slipped on something oily.”
“The sound scared your grandma,” Lou said, his voice studiously even. “You might want to come here.”
Magnus watched the brightness fade from June’s face and worry take its place. The sight bothered him. Greatly. He may not share the lass’s unending zest, and it might even exhaust him at times, but he hated watching it drain away. He might be off his head, but he wanted June’s grin back, and acting even more doolally, he wanted to be the one to put it there.
After quickly pulling on clothes, he followed June into the nursery. Her nan had a wildness about her face as she sat in a chair by Sorcha. Lou had moved to Clara’s side, his stance the same protective one he used when treating an injured animal. He bent slightly over her, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. It was apparent he was trying to give her support without frightening her more. Her eyes were round and slightly unfocused, and her hands shook as she nervously played with the large buttons of her coat. Clara Winters normally appeared so proper, but the vitality seemed sucked from her, leaving her as fragile and delicate as a dry leaf blowing in a gale. The sight caused an ache in Magnus’s heart, and he barely knew the woman. He could only imagine how June felt while watching her nan scan the room like a scared lassie looking for her mum.
June rushed to her grandmother’s side and grabbed her hands, just as she had during the last spell Magnus had witnessed. “It’s okay, Nana. I’m here.”
Clara ripped one of her trembling hands from June’s grasp and lifted it nervously toward her throat. “That beast was after you.”
“Nana, it was just a little ol’ honey badger. It couldn’t do me any harm even if it tried.”
Clara remained unconvinced, her eyes slightly unfocused as they watched June with almost palpable doubt. “It is fierce and has nasty teeth.”
“But it’s no bigger than a speck, Nan,” June said at the same time Lou patted the elderly woman’s shoulder.
Her grandmother shook her head, her voice shaky but utterly serious. “It can grow, Junie, eighteen feet high.”
“Now, Nana,” June said patiently, “you know that’s not true.”
A stubborn look fell over the elderly woman’s face. Magnus exchanged a glance with Lou over both women’s heads. Concern swam in the older man’s eyes. June needed help, and Lou’s presence wasn’t enough to distract her nan from her fears. Magnus gave the veterinarian a quick nod as he moved forward.
“Clara, do you remember me?”
Her gaze flitted over his, sharpening momentarily before going fuzzy again. “You’re the writer fellow.”
“Aye,” Magnus said as he drew up a chair next to the elder Winters’s. “We both used to live in T-T-T-Tammay.”
The woman thought about this for a moment and then nodded. “Yes. I remember.”
“Did you do a lot of rambling there?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I would go with my girlfriends, Dotty and Peg.”
“Aye, T-T-T-Tammay is a good place for a stroll, especially in the gloamin’. If you walk quietly enough, you might catch sight of a pine m-m-marten.”
A small smile drifted across the woman’s face. Beside Magnus, June visibly loosened the tension she’d been carrying in her shoulders. She shot Magnus a grateful grin. A swell of triumph rushed through him. Aye, he was becoming a fair numptie.
“I remember spotting a pine marten when I was a girl,” Clara said. “They were very rare.”
“Aye, the wee beasties are still scarce in the isles and the Highlands,” Magnus said. “Conservationists are trying to bring them back, though. They’ve been reintroduced in mainland Scotland. There’s hope they’ll reduce the invasive gray squirrel population.”
June’s grandmother nodded, but Magnus could tell the woman was only half listening. He’d succeeded in distracting her, or so he’d thought. Suddenly, her face tightened, and she gripped her granddaughter’s hand so hard, her knuckles grew white under her papery skin. June, for her part, did not even wince under the pressure. She just patted her grandmother’s arm, and Lou gave Nan’s shoulder another comforting squeeze.
“There it is. It’s going to eat us.” With the hand not clinging to June’s, Clara pointed a shaking finger in the direction of the doorway. Magnus turned to see Honey watching them, her little nose twitching, oblivious to the problem she was causing.
Lou started forward, but Magnus knew the elderly man had no chance of catching the peedie bastard. Magnus bolted from his own chair. Honey emitted a call of panic and started to scurry away. He, though, had endured enough of the wee blighter’s trickery. He snagged the beastie under its belly and lifted the snarling tube of claws and fur into the air. June’s nana screeched, and Lou moved as quickly as he could to Magnus’s side despite his slightly uneven gait.
“I’ll take her back to her enclosure,” Lou said. Although the words were meant for Magnus, the veterinarian’s attention was directed toward Honey. He spoke in the low, almost melodic tone that he used to soothe upset animals.
“Are you sure?” Magnus asked as he held the hissing creature away from him. He didn’t fancy getting bitten.
Lou nodded as he carefully disengaged the honey badger from Magnus’s hands. The fact t
hat Honey didn’t manage to sink her teeth into the veterinarian’s thumb proved the man’s skill. “Stay with Clara. You’re good for her. Your tales bring her mind back into focus.”
Magnus nodded and retook his seat as Lou ambled from the room with his growling charge. June shot them both a grateful look as she kept patting her grandma’s arm. “It’s okay, Nana. Lou is taking Honey back to her home.”
“It will eat him.”
“Now, Mrs. Winters,” Magnus said. “That blighter is not much bigger than a peedie pine marten. He can’t hurt Lou.”
Clara shot him a look that told him she considered him a bampot for the observation. Magnus ignored her censure. “Did you ever see t-t-t-tammie norries on your rambles?”
“Of course, I saw puffins,” the woman snapped, using the English word for the birds rather than the Orcadian one. “They’re everywhere on Tammay.”
“B-B-B-Bjaray as well,” Magnus said, keeping his voice calm. “I remember m-m-my d-d-d-da always trying to scare them away from the croft. He didn’t like dealing with all the shite they left.”
Clara frowned. “They did shit a lot.”
June made a sound halfway between a choke and a splutter. Magnus cast a glance in her direction and found her red-faced, holding back laughter and tears. He supposed she’d never heard her nana curse before. Mrs. Clara Winters didn’t seem the type for foul words, but he knew even the primmest auld folk sometimes started swearing when suffering from dementia.
“But they are b-b-bonny birds with their orange, black, and yellow bills,” Magnus said.
“Their eyes always reminded me of a mime’s face paint,” Clara said with an air of final authority on the matter. Magnus suppressed a smile. He didn’t think the woman would appreciate it.
