Blood pounded through his ears with deafening force as he opened his eyes to find that the girl was once again clad in fresh, clean garments; so fast had she changed that he wondered if he’d imagined the entire thing, but no... his imagination had never been thatcolorful. Staring at the exact spot where Micah was hidden, Ailill tightened the lacings of an emerald green shirt, the same revealing cut and style as the one she had so nonchalantly removed a moment before; the clean kilt cinched low on her hips was the brightly colored tartan of the Mackintosh clan. Her eyes glittered with an odd mixture of beguiling sadness and knowing innocence, underlaid, much to his surprise, with curious expectation. That look was too familiar. It her!he thought, staring. My dream girl.
And what a complete changeover. Before, he had thought, had had a very real impression, in fact, that she looked as if she'd recently been in battle. The blue tint to her skin reminiscent of the ancient Highlanders, bodies painted with woad, screaming like Ban-Sithichein the Gaelic as they charged all-out across barren moorland. All too easily he imagined her amongst them, sword drawn, a fierceness in her strange, iridescent blue eyes. She certainly looked strong enough. The image his colorful mind had dredged up had been so stunningly real... and now... Oh! now she looked as if she should be swathed in velvet robes and silken gowns, a crown of silver and gold set upon that fiery head. Such beautiful perfection!
He stared into her lovely, expressive eyes, fought the sudden compulsion to show himself when she seemed to stare back as if he were in full view.
She knew he was there, oh yes; had known the entire time. He thrummed with a vibrancy of life that matched her own; she had sensed the quicker rush of his life force within the slowly aging forest the moment her mare had turned onto the path leading up the south-face of the mountain, had been aware as he followed with the silent stealth of an accomplished hunter, watched her with the intense curiosity of a stranger who believes himself cloaked into invisibility by shadows. Without doubt, she knew this was one of the two she had come for; a stranger in this age of ruin and renewal; a ghost of her past. A true and perfect match for herself, one of three. She sighed softly, willed herself not to acknowledge his unwanted presence.
The hidden stranger’s immediate, almost volatile, reaction to her nudity overwhelmed her. She felt his response deeply, the intensity of his desire struck her with a force that made the blood sing in her ears, her head swim with vertigo; when his release came on an aching need washed over her, tingling in her breasts, her womb, leaving an unaccustomed slickness in its wake as the feelings he evoked slowly dissipated. Fighting off an urgent desire to run across the stream and confront him, this lad who had caused such strong feelings to resurface after long months of carefully burying anything resembling need, Ailill quickly covered her nudity and stared hard across the water, willing the stranger to show himself, to acknowledge her presence with an introduction; with an exchange of names, a wave, a nod, anything. So that she would not have to. Instead he remained hidden from her imploring eyes, stubbornly unmoving in his discomfiture. Even when James raced into the clearing, impatient to be reunited with his daughter at long last, he stayed carefully out of sight. Heading out of the wood beside her father with a noticeable reluctance, she glanced back frequently for a glimpse of the visitor until the tree line curved away, taking her, as well as the possibility of seeing him, out of sight.
When she was gone Micah stood up, legs trembling from crouching so long, his limbs weak with the ferocity of his sudden release- it had been a shock, as if his own mind and body had been controlled by some unseen force. Casting one last look of longing at the spot where the fiery beauty had stood, exquisitely nude, he shuddered and quickly made his way to the village below, impatient to search out his twin and share what he had seen. His desire to meet the girl was great; strong enough to overcome the initial embarrassment he felt over spying on her. As his mind replayed the scene over and over his face burned with shame. He felt that he had violated her somehow, that his release had unlocked a door into the realm of her innocence; he vowed to fix it, either by latching it again, somehow, or by being the one to open it wide. His incensed mind knew that she, the mysterious and very beautiful Ailill Mackintosh, was the reason he had saved himself, as surely as she had known he was there all along. Deeply smitten on first sight, he went home to fetch his twin back up the mountain with him, knowing that Jacob, a shameless wanton, could never turn down the meeting of a beautiful girl.
Raven Twins
After three full days spent reuniting with her parents, she appeared no more than a hundred yards from where the brothers lounged just inside the edge of the wood, both watchful, hoping to meet her at last. Micah stood up quickly, knocking over the canteen Jacob had set near his feet; his face took on a deep flush at the sight he had so patiently awaited.
“Hey, man. I just filled-”
“Shh,” Micah hissed, his gaze trained across the small clearing that separated him from Ailill. “It’s her. See?”
Following the same path with his eyes, Jacob stared at the auburn curls that fell to below the girl’s narrow waist, the tight red shirt that covered very little; tanned, muscular legs skittered along, fast as a hummingbird’s wings beneath a short plaid skirt, the movement making jewelry spark in the sun around her neck and wrists as she made a beeline toward the orchard, heedless of mud splashing up from the soggy ground, spattering umber moccasins that came to just below her knees. Tearing his eyes away to look at his twin’s face, he grinned. “She’s pretty, Micah, and probably way too young for ya, by the look of her.”
“Tha i bòidheach!" Micah exclaimed in a heated rush. "And I don’t care how old she is. I’ve already waited this long, haven’t I?” Unable to look away from his dream, come to life before his very eyes, he whispered, “Annie said she’s seventeen, not so very young, really, but I can wait ‘til she’s older, if that’s what it takes.”
“Yeah, I know,” Jacob muttered softly, peering out at the stranger once more, his brows drawn down into a vee. “She may not be as beautifulup close anyway. Y'all want me to introduce us?” When his question went unanswered, he glanced up sidelong to find Micah’s long black hair swaying easily across broad shoulders as he stepped out of the shadowy wood, compelled to finally face the vibrant beauty, a beacon in the darkness that had filled his young heart for so long. Surprised, Jacob followed a few feet behind, hoping that his brother would not be disappointed in the end.
The kilted man strode gracefully across the field, his movements easy, calm in a way that was instantly familiar; she recognized him at once as the silent watcher of three days ago, though the lifeforce of both he and the man walking at an unhurried pace not far behind were one and the same when she sensed it last night, the rush out in the darkness evidence of a life that flowed back and forth between them as if they were two halves of one man; she had waited patiently all morning for one to show himself, to change the monotony of this new life, lessen the strain of a homecoming she had not wanted, until she realized that they, like herself, wished for a solitary first meeting, away from the prying eyes of her parents.
Her father, damn him, had tried all day to coerce her into meeting the twin men, stolen sons, raised by her entire clan’s sworn enemy; brothers to whom she had been avowed at birth, apparently without their knowledge, either. Nothing her father said today swayed her determination; his flowery promises were met with an icy stare, his veiled threats with stony silence. The man had failed miserably, and he knew it, and it galled him. Stubborn, he had called her; bullheaded. Ha! Auld Shaemus, ye ain't seen nothin' yet. She could not wait to be away from the Yank’s infernal blethering, every other word out of his mouth about the twins, these men she could so clearly see from beneath the boughs of the knotty old apple tree; to get the introductions over with... alone, she’d taken the first opportunity she saw to escape the watchful eyes of everyone at the ranch. The relief that had washed over her with even a short distance between herself and the unyielding grasp
of her grandmother, the foolish demands of her parents, was to be sadly short lived.
The instant familiarity of the tall, beautiful, raven haired young men made Ailill hesitate, almost afraid to touch the outstretched hand a foot away when Micah introduced himself, his voice low and smooth, his eyes a shade of blue so dark as to be almost black when they turned at his twin’s silent approach. Sweet Brigit, but he looks just like my love, she noted, alarmed by the strong resemblance as she stared up into Micah’s clear, chiseled face, the dark eyes glowing warmly with open attraction. And isna that just like ye, too, to double the likeness in this devastated land. Oh, by the gods, why? Why am I punished so?
“I am called Ailill,” she answered softly, her voice husky with the memory of love lost as she took the proffered hand into her own for the briefest instant; the man’s grip was soft yet firm, the callused palm warm, slightly dampened by a nervous sweat. Well, at least I have some effect. “Or you can call me Abby, if you like, as most do. I was wonderin’ if you’d show yourselves today.” Blue eyes flashed, a look heavily significant resting on Micah’s face for a few beats, long enough that he flushed, chagrined, well aware that she knew, that there seemed to be no ill thoughts over his voyeuristic spying. He still wondered why she had been so filthy that first morning, her flesh tinted blue; now she was as well-kempt as the old woman had been. Unwittingly, his gaze dropped to her chest, taking in the soft fullness there, and lower, the rippling musculature surrounding a gleaming navel ring; when he realized how hard he was staring at the shiny bit, Micah flushed guiltily and looked away.
Jacob stared down at her with a gleam in his eyes, surprised to find the tiny woman as perfect as Micah had described her. More than that, he was just plain surprised. Her hand was smooth and warm; he sensed uncommon strength, self-assurance and security in the mere touch of the small limb, the elegantly tapered digits; he did not wish to let go. “Well,” he drawled, the casual tone of his voice forced to hide an unaccustomed feeling of anxiety when she let go first. “We were just hangin’ around, figured it was high time to meet ya, seein’ as how we lived up here for awhile, some months back.” His looks mirrored his twin so precisely that Ailill felt slightly dizzy, as if she were seeing double. “With James and Annie. How’d ya know we were around?”
Not deigning to answer what should have been obvious, Ailill looked away. Her heart was pounding; she took a few deep breaths to quell the thundering madness of it. Pure insanity, this. And Shaemus had the audacity to call spoilt!
“Nah, really, I had to get up the nerve to talk to you,” Micah said truthfully, watching the way her steady breaths made the labret sparkle in the dappled sunlight beneath the blossoming apple tree, capturing his attention with tiny bits of ice-fire. “Y’all bein’ so pretty and all. Beautiful, really. I wanted to meet you before hecaught your eye.”
The look in his eyes clearly, triumphantly, proclaimed "Isaw you first". His smile made her heart thump noisily, the dimples in his lean cheeks just visible; yet another reminder of Tiernan MacDuff. 'Tis an unjust punishment I mun thole, she thought. Fighting down a lump in her throat, Ailill gave the lad a pointed stare, determined not to like him orhis damn twin. “Aye? And do you always spread compliments as if they were honeyed butter?” she asked tartly. “Or is that hisdepartment?” Her gaze slithered over Jacob’s well-built frame with exaggerated interest; her cheeks flushed with denial at the instant attraction she felt toward them both, so like Tiernan that it took her breath away.
Taken aback by the unexpected sarcasm, Micah eyed the newcomer curiously, seeing more in her sapphire eyes than she’d meant to show. “I apologize... Abby, it was rude.” He uttered the name softly, nearly a whisper, stepped closer so that she was forced to look up at him. “You really are, though. Beautiful, I mean.”
She blinked, uncertain how to respond to something she'd always known, something as natural for her as it was for all of her people; for the two men before her. “Thank you,” she decided on after a moment. “You aren't too bad yourself.” Ailill’s breathy laughter was a soothing caress, the lightened expression showing off perfect teeth behind rather sensual lips, the lower one full enough to look almost pouty as her smile faded. There was a glimmer of something in her eyes, a shadow of discontent that Micah wondered about; at a loss for words, he turned to his twin.
“So, y’all grew up in Scotland, ain’t that right?” Jacob asked easily, knowing it was; he'd had a long conversation with James about the girl while staying at the ranch all those months ago; at the time, oddly enough, the Mackintosh had seemed most enraptured with the very idea of his daughter meeting the two brothers. Pulling himself up with strong arms to sit one of the lower branches, bare, well-muscled legs dangled beneath the pleated edge of his own kilt, muted colors that gave the not too far off impression that he was a part of the woods behind them, all shadows and earthy browns. Both men were very dark, skin so bronzed that it brought out the the smooth lines of hard muscle beneath, the cobalt-blue of their searching eyes. Staring, she wondered if it were possible that the desert sun under which they'd grown had baked each man into such a fine, fire-hardened shell. “Thatbrings alot of questions to mind.” He grinned, deep blue eyes taking on an amused shimmer.
Micah took a seat beside the girl, knowing that Jacob expected him to, that his outspoken brother was keeping a distance where he usually did not. No one loved the girls the way Jacob did. It was a well known fact all through the village; but no rogue- Jacob never stole a girl's innocence, and he never, never, left a truly broken heart in his wake. It was a reality that did not leave him as pleased as one would expect. He did not fear heartbreak, personally, he simply never allowed himself to become serious, about anyone; the one time he did his heart had been very nearly shattered to pieces. He would not do that again. Neither would he give up the enticement of a soft, warm body. His seeming lack of interest in the tiny woman went only as deep as brotherly love; while Jacob had given himself over to the fairer sex, completely and without apology, as often as possible in the past eighteen months, Micah had intentionally never lain with a woman. Jacob had only to smile his sweetest smile, sigh honeyed words into a girl’s ear in that slow Texan drawl, and he would have whatever he sought. Micah had saved himself for a girl who had visited his dreams over six hard years; a girl who looked like a fiery fairy princess in the drawings he had made; dozens of them, hidden under the false bottom of an oak chest filled with things important to them for one reason or another. The carefully depicted dream-girl looked exactly like this Ailill Mackintosh, if Jacob’s memory served; he would never stand in the way of true love, especially if his brother was involved. He could bide awhile, see where her eye might go, and if it happened to glance his way? I would pounce. Watching Ailill with hooded eyes, Jacob grinned inwardly, anticipating what he knew would eventually come his way.
Surreptitiously, she watched the man beside her, considering. “Aye, Jacob,” she said without turning to look up, her mind on other things. “In the Heilans.” She purposely broadened the word, biting back a smile at seeing Micah’s eyes widen in surprise. He could not stop staring at her, it was quite obvious. She flashed him a sweet smile and he glanced away, though she noticed that he seemed to be leaning closer a bit at a time, breathing deeply through his fine-edged nose, almost as if he were getting her scent. “And you are from Texas. Is that right?”
“Yep. West Texas, desertland, a few miles from the border of New Mexico. We got here the winter before last.”
Jacob seemed a bit pale when Ailill looked up, his dark eyes nearly black inside the frame of lashes, too familiar. Blinking, she looked away, heartily wished she had something strong to drink. A good shot of whiskey would hearten her, perhaps take the edge off of seeing Tiernan’s face each time she looked at either one of these men. “Did you like it, then, in West Texas?” she asked curiously, wondering if they might lie. She knew far more about these two than either one could ever guess; she'd even dreamt of them for the better part of her
life and still she had been so very surprised to see them in person. They were, both of them, far more interesting to look at up close than she had expected, though she could not think why, their mirrored countenances as familiar as the many lads she'd grown up with. It was as if she'd expected them to have grown horns or some such nonsense. Nay, 'tis something else, Ailill, she told herself; the brothers’ accent sounded funny to her ears after hearing only Scotspeakfor the better part of her life, the deep Southern drawl bringing a smile to her lips that reached her wide blue eyes, making them sparkle like finely polished sapphires. Perhaps 'tis only that? A strange, albeit verra sexy accent, the lazy way they speak.
Her own Highland burr held their interest, as well, though she intentionally held it in check, thinking carefully over how she sounded before speaking freely; following the advice of an old friend one could say. It seemed familiar, however, to both Jacob and Micah, though neither could have ever guessed why; given her size, her voice was oddly low-pitched, rather husky... highly sensuous; it brought about intensely sexual images that made even Jacob flush with warmth under her scrutinizing gaze.
“Nope,” Micah answered quietly, his gaze trained away, toward the darkness of the forest so close by. His jaw clenched hard beneath the smooth-shaven flesh. “Didn't care a bit for West Texas. It was like livin’ in hell on earth.”
Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series) Page 7
