Gift of the Realm

by Mackenzie Crowne

  Ignoring his question, she tightened her grip on the leash and glanced over her shoulder. “Is Kathleen inside? I didn’t let her know I was coming. I wanted to surprise her.”

  He was silent for a moment, and she turned back. His eyes were watchful, his smile sharp.

  “Nearly the whole village is inside. Kathleen is holding court in the garden.”

  Keely couldn’t help but smile. Her grandmother’s best friend was a fixture in Dunhaven. Though Colin had inherited Quinn Manor at the death of his mother, it was a well-known fact that Kathleen ruled the roost. From what Keely remembered from her seventeenth summer, neither the indomitable matron nor her charming grandnephew would have it any other way.

  “How is she?”

  His smile softened and he laughed. The rich, rumbling sound always sent her senses on a trip toward haywire.

  Nothing changed there, either. Damn it.

  Pleasure tap-danced over her nerve endings.

  “She’s as ornery as ever. She’ll be glad to see you.”

  “Well.” She tugged at Donovan’s leash. “We’ll let you get to...” she waved her free hand, “wherever it was you were going.” She turned on her heel to start up the path to the gate.

  “Keely,” Colin called to her back. She stopped and squeezed her eyes shut. Double crap. Just three steps away from escape.

  Donovan jerked at the leash, and she pasted what she hoped looked like a mildly curious look on her face. She met Colin’s gaze over one shoulder.

  His smile was gone, and his eyes were intent on her. “About that night in the gazebo.”

  The second scenario crashed and burned.

  “The gazebo?” she asked, arching her brow in feigned puzzlement even as she flushed with embarrassment.

  “I wanted to apologize,” he said. “I overreacted and scared you. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Oh,” she breathed as though just realizing what he meant. “That.” Her lips curled in a smile that should have garnered her an Oscar nomination. “There’s no need to apologize. I’d forgotten all about it.”

  His answering smile said he thought she could benefit from acting lessons.

  She ground her teeth. Damn it, she wasn’t supposed to have had to face him about this until she was surrounded by dozens of party guests. And her ferocious dog had been absolutely no help.

  Donovan redeemed himself when he chose that moment to bolt through the gate. She gladly let him tow her along.

  Chapter Two

  Colin watched her go, grinning helplessly at the way the huge dog leaped ahead of her, nearly dragging her in his exuberance. The grin slid away as he considered her reaction when he’d mentioned that night in the gazebo. She had remembered despite her initial reaction and, like Keely, it was a night he couldn’t forget.

  The details returned as he watched Keely disappear in the distance.

  ****

  That night, surrounded by the obsidian darkness within the stone pergola, he’d been stunned by his reaction to the woman he’d yanked into his arms. The moment she’d stepped within his reach the compulsion overwhelmed him.

  He remembered how he’d been working toward getting the luscious Nora Murphy into his bed for days, but the few stolen kisses he’d managed to that point had been merely enjoyable. Those kisses held no resemblance to the nuclear explosion he’d experienced the moment his mouth had closed over the lips of the shapely bundle in his arms.

  Never before had he gone from simple carnal interest to sensual meltdown so quickly. But as generous curves had molded to his body, the top of his head nearly blew off. The woman’s ardent response instantly lit a fire inside him, turning the flames into a raging inferno with an urgency he’d never experienced before.

  Only the loud clearing of a throat had stopped him from dragging her to the floor the way his body had demanded.

  Looking up and finding Nora standing just beyond the gazebo had been like taking a sucker punch straight to the libido.

  The woman in his arms had fit up against him as though she’d been designed specifically with him in mind. The shock of discovering she was actually little Keely O’Brian had nearly knocked him flat. Colin Quinn, the Don Juan of Dunhaven, had been all but KO’d by a kid.

  He’d reacted badly. Grabbing Keely’s shoulders and shaking her. He had accused her of playing games.

  The moment he’d relaxed his hold and taken a step back, she’d fled into the darkness as though the demons of hell were at her heels. Nora had followed right behind her. Dazed, he’d barely noticed their leaving, and the fear in Keely’s eyes hadn’t registered until Nora pointed it out sometime much later.

  That kind of thing tended to happen when faced with your own personal haunting.

  Not that the tall figure stretched out on the gazebo’s stone railing and invisible to all but Colin, was a ghost. Oh, no. Colin couldn’t have been that lucky. There was nothing so mundane about his personal apparition. No, the figure who’d watched the happenings with amused interest claimed to be none other than Owein the Fine, King of the Fairies.

  For as long as Colin could remember, the fairie had appeared without warning, pestering him for the purpose of breaking a three hundred year-old curse. And though Colin would have loved to write off Owein’s visits as some sort of psychological disorder, he couldn’t. His life had been too full of strange and mystical experiences to dismiss their frequent conversations as psychosomatic illusions.

  With his booted feet crossed at the ankles, Owein had appeared as he always did. Shiny black trousers covered his long legs, and the royal blue tunic stretched across his wide chest and even wider shoulders seemed to glow. Strongly muscled arms crossed beneath his head, cradling it, while wisps of his shoulder length, gilded blond hair danced in the breeze.

  He had looked pleased with himself, whistling a tune through his teeth.

  “Why are you here?” Colin had demanded.

  “As if you don’t know. The very air in my realm quivered with purpose the moment you touched her. And though you won’t be admitting it, you felt it too. I knew the time had finally come since the moment she arrived in Dunhaven. Haven’t I been telling you she is the one?”

  “You have,” Colin had agreed reluctantly. “But now she’s gone. And the way she was running, she won’t be back.”

  “Ha! She’s your destiny, boy. She won’t be run off by a bit o’ temper.”

  Colin had ignored his grinning prediction, snarling, “And I’ve told you, I don’t believe in destiny.”

  “Oh, you believe in it, young Quinn. You just don’t want to, stubborn fool that you are. Ancient blood flows in your veins, calling you to do your duty. ’Tis your unreasonable fear of ending up like your da that has you digging in your heels.”

  “Now there, you’re wrong,” Colin had insisted, anger blooming in his head. “I’m nothing like the bastard and never will be. Destiny and duty can only ruin your life if you bow to them. I won’t.”

  His stubborn denial cracked the fairie king’s air of confident humor. A lightning bolt lit the sky, zigzagging across the heavens like a crazed meteor before striking the ground with a thunderous crack.

  He’d reared up to face Colin. “You’d let Michael Sterling’s selfish mistakes rob you of all fate has in store for you? What difference be there, I ask, to be ruled by your destiny or to be ruled by your effort to avoid it?”

  With a nimble twist, he had leapt from the rail. His booted feet hit the stone floor without a sound. “Bah! You’re a fool, Colin Quinn! Destiny is never wrong. There’s a simple joy to be found in that.”

  “This from a man—fairie,” Colin corrected, seeing the sparks of energy begin to crackle around Owein’s clenched fists, “who married the human woman, Saraid, only to lose her to the jealous fury of one of your own kind?”

  By his own admission, Owein’s human wife wasn’t the only thing the fairie king had lost to Princess Fiona’s rage. With all of his attention focused on finding a way to break Fiona’s
curse, he’d turned over the raising of his and Saraid’s twins, a son and daughter, to their human grandparents. In effect, he’d lost them, too.

  “Your entire family was lost to you,” Colin pressed, pointing a finger at him. “That was your destiny. Tell me, Owein, King of the Fairies, where is your joy?”

  A gust of wind had swirled through the gazebo on Owein’s deep sigh.

  “My joy and my destiny wait on you young Quinn. And on the girl. You’ve shared the dreams. You know, as well as I, the two of you are destined to break the curse. Our descendants you be, mine and Saraid’s. Though, I find it hard to believe royal, fairie blood runs in the veins of one such as you. The girl now,” he continued contemplatively, “she doesn’t shy from answering the pull of her fairie legacy. The blood is strong in that one. The dreams can’t be comfortable for one so young, and yet she bears them.”

  “Dreams you force upon her,” Colin charged, “upon the both of us, manipulating us to your will.”

  “Not so,” Owein denied, his bottle-green eyes narrowed. “The dreams don’t come from me. ’Tis through Saraid’s eyes the girl sees, and if I know Fiona, the sights are rarely pleasant.”

  The knowledge had given Colin pause. It was true he’d joined Keely in the dreams, but the manifestation of his fairie blood had always come with his transformation into a beast. Though aware on an innate level, details were sketchy when he walked on all fours.

  As the black wolf, he’d sensed her pleasure in her surroundings as he’d padded at her side, but since that summer ten years ago, he’d also noted her anxiousness, and the comfort she’d taken from his presence. Until Owein had mentioned it, he hadn’t considered the dreams might be uncomfortable for Keely. The realization didn’t improve his surly mood.

  Owein’s frown had darkened when Colin remained silent. “But for your stubbornness, young Quinn, my Saraid could be free, if not now, then very shortly. I’ve waited nearly three hundred years already,” he complained, his words clipped. With a flick of his wrist, he was gone, leaving behind the echo of a command. “Don’t make me wait much longer!”

  ****

  Owein had waited another ten years.

  With a shake of his head, Colin brought himself back to the present. He crossed the lawn to the low, stone wall at the edge of the lane. A hand to the cool, smooth surface vaulted him over to land on the path leading to the cliffs and long strides took him away from Quinn Manor.

  He should have known Keely O’Brian had found her way back to Dunhaven when Owein suddenly appeared in the midst of Kathleen’s party. His long legs dangling from a low branch of the tree at the edge of the garden was enough of a clue, but the ruthlessly satisfied smile on the fairie king’s face should have clinched it.

  Then again, maybe it had. Colin hadn’t been all that surprised to find Keely tripping up the lane toward his gate.

  “Where the devil is your head, boy?”

  Colin didn’t miss a step at Owein’s barked demand. He’d known this conversation was coming, and had left the party to insure some privacy when it did.

  “According to my shaving mirror,” Colin said conversationally, “it was sitting atop my neck not two hours ago. I assume it’s still there.”

  Owein snorted. His booted feet made not a sound as he paced along the top of the wall at Colin’s side. “Aye, it’s there and missing a brain I’m thinking.”

  Colin ignored the grumbled taunt, whistling through his teeth in Owein’s favorite, annoying affectation.

  “Keely O’Brian’s come home,” Owein continued more forcefully.

  “I noticed.”

  “And the great beastie at her side, did you notice him as well?”

  “I did.”

  A laugh escaped Owein’s lips. “An intriguing woman, that one—prowling the dark with the wolf and sharing the light with the wolfhound.”

  “I didn’t miss the implication. And if it’s an argument you’re after, Owein, you won’t be getting one on that point.”

  “Then what the devil are you doing,” Owein demanded, exasperation clear in his raised voice, “strolling a path you’ve walked the whole of your life, with herself waiting on you back there at your grand manor?”

  “I prefer the familiar path, if you don’t mind.”

  “It happens I do mind.”

  “No doubt,” Colin replied dryly.

  “You’ll not be able to avoid her for long, now she’s back.”

  “That’s debatable. She has a career in New York. And word is Hollywood is interested in her book. She’ll be gone soon enough.”

  Calculation gleamed in Owein’s green eyes and his smile was sly. “Keeping tabs on her, are you? Well, that’s good. That’s good.”

  “My great-aunt has taken it upon herself to step in as Morna’s replacement. I’ve no need to keep tabs with Kathleen sharing every detail. She’s near to bursting proud of the girl.”

  “Aye, and isn’t that how it should be? But that’s no mere girl you’ve left to fend for herself while you spend your time crossing verbal swords with me. She’s a woman full grown, and bonny with it.” His chuckle was deep and pleased. “The gangly dandelion has bloomed into a stunning rose. You’d see for yourself, if you’d use the eyes you were born with.”

  Colin bristled at Owein’s taunting tone. It hadn’t taken the fairie king long to toss out the sex card. He’d often commented on Colin’s eye for the ladies. No doubt he’d consider sexual attraction an effective weapon in his quest to throw Colin together with the woman. He’d decided long ago that she was the other half of the pair destined to break his curse. And Colin had to admit, as weapons went, sexual attraction was a powerful one.

  Little Keely O’Brian had indeed grown up in the ten years since she’d fled the gazebo. The honey-blonde curls surrounding her freckled face like a disorganized halo had grown into a gleaming swath of silk, tamed into a sophisticated knot at the back of her head. The freckles were gone, and maturity had softened the pixie-like features of the face he remembered. Her piercing green eyes, as exotic as those of a sorceress, combined with a pert nose, world-class cheekbones, and a wide mouth, to form an incredibly appealing package. More attractive than classically beautiful, her looks would stand the test of time, becoming only more interesting as the years passed.

  As for her body, had she had those killer curves at seventeen? The memory of the lush form pressed against his body within the confines of the gazebo said she most definitely had. He simply hadn’t allowed himself to remember. He did now. The fitted, white Capri slacks she wore above sling-back sandals showcased long, slim legs, and a sweetheart ass. And the loose cut of the spruce-colored tank hadn’t disguised the intriguing roundness of her full breasts. She had indeed grown into a stunner.

  Unbidden, the memory of holding Keely, her mouth fused to his, their tongues tangling in a mind blowing kiss, filled his head. Liquid desire heated his blood at the thought of having her in his arms again and caused an uncomfortable swelling against the restraint of his jeans.

  He was tempting fate even thinking of putting his hands on her again, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to touch her, to hold her, to finish what they’d started all those years ago in the gazebo. Despite the fact he’d be playing into Owein’s hands if he acted on those desires, he decided it just might be worth it.

  “She’s come back to stay,” Owein announced.

  Colin skidded to a halt, jerked from his disturbing fantasy. Knee-high meadow grass crushed beneath the heel of his boots as he changed direction. Taking several unconsciously menacing steps toward Owein where he balanced easily on the wall, he asked, “Stay? What do you mean stay?”

  “Just what I said. The lovely Keely O’Brian plans to take up permanent residence in the cottage she’s neglected since her Gran’s passing.”

  A surge of anger flashed through Colin. Keely O’Brian on the other side of the world was one thing. He could deal with Owein’s constant needling to accept his destiny when the other half of the e
quation was so far out of reach. Owein and Keely double-teaming him from right here in Dunhaven was something else, altogether.

  “You just had to keep harassing her until she finally threw up her hands and gave you what you wanted, didn’t you?” he demanded.

  “Sheath those fangs, young Quinn. You’re the only one I harass.” Owein rolled his eyes. “It so happens, I overheard her tell your great-aunt she’d come home to stay, before I followed you out here to try and knock some sense into that stubborn head of yours.”

  “You expect me to believe this is the first you’ve heard of it?”

  The fairie king had been so suspiciously patient with him these past ten years, Colin finally decided he’d switched his focus to Keely. He’d been pleased as time stretched into years without any sign of Keely returning. It meant Owein had no better luck bullying her than he’d had with him.

  “Since it’s the truth,” Owein answered, “aye, I do. It’s Saraid the girl senses, not me. I’ve never had words with Keely O’Brian.”

  “Why not?”

  Refusing to answer Colin’s question, Owein’s mouth flattened into a mulish frown.

  Realization dawned and cooled the burn of anger in Colin’s gut. “She doesn’t see you, does she?” Colin pressed, with no better results. After a moment, he began to smile, and then to laugh. “Well now, if that isn’t a bit of welcome news. Keely O’Brian is immune to your interference.”

  “And what if she is?” Owein grumbled. “’Tis a blessing, I’m thinking. It would take a powerful stubbornness to have withstood the dreams this long. Dealing with one stubborn ass is enough for me.”

  Colin laughed, taking his first easy breath since the moment Owein had popped in on Kathleen’s party. “Aye, a blessing indeed.”

  Chapter Three

  “Oooweeein!”

  The echo of the tortured cry brought Keely awake with a startled gasp, breaths coming in shallow pants. Her gaze darted about the room illuminated by the first rays of dawn. Her dream-fogged mind struggled to grasp what was real. Instead of stone pillars and a desperately pleading woman, antique pieces that had been in her family since before Gran was born surrounded her. The aged, floral paper still covered the familiar walls of her bedroom in the cottage. She sat up, letting a ragged sigh escape.