Blue Moon Magic

by Dawn Thompson

  Following her crisscross pattern over the grounds, he’d stayed close, but hadn’t revealed himself at first. He’d made that mistake before with disastrous consequences. When he’d decided to speak with her, she’d not been frightened by him, rather seemed relieved by his presence. He saw her better than she could see him and he was quite taken with her dark hair, blue eyes and skin the color of fresh cream. Her clothing was big and bulky, but he knew from past visits that she was trim, and rounded in all the right places.

  Emma sighed. Dressed in a pair of dark blue pants, a blue sweatshirt and with her hair pulled into a ponytail, she felt like a cat burglar. Nevertheless, she wasn’t stealing anything. She was trying to find something she’d lost before someone else found it and claimed it as their own. Enough had been taken from her. It was time she got a break in life. She was no spring flower, but she hoped there was still time for her to find and enjoy love and life.

  “So, do you sleep or do you actually stay up all night?”

  “I never sleep, lass.”

  “Well, I’d take my hat off to you, if I had one. I’m early to bed and late to rise, if I have anything to say about it.” Laughing, Emma continued her search, sweeping the modern sidewalk ringing the ruins and stairs, one slow step at a time. Thankfully, Alex wasn’t hurrying her, and it was certainly nice to have someone to talk to. It made the experience less creepy.

  “How is it that you’re not married? You’ll pardon me if I say you’re well past the marrying age.”

  “Alex, that’s a rather old-fashioned mindset. There’s a simple answer—I’ve not found the right man.”

  “Och, lass, I dinnae mean to offend. I ken I’m—how did you say—old fashioned. I was curious, that’s all. What are you looking for?”

  “I’m not offended. Well, let me see—I’m looking for a man who loves me to distraction, one who’ll stand by me when times get tough, and one who wants lots of children. When you have no family, it becomes very important. You probably wouldn’t understand.”

  “I understand more than you ken, Emma MacPherson.”

  “What about you, is there a Mrs. Grant?”

  “I never married. I loved once, but she died and I have been alone ever since.”

  “I’m so sorry, death is never kind.”

  “It can be the kindest gift ever given or the cruelest twist of fate.”

  “How could death ever be a gift? It robs you of life and everyone you leave behind.”

  “Imagine, you are forced to watch everyone and everything you love pass away and you are powerless to stop it. Would you not yearn for death to take away the pain and loneliness?”

  “I wanted to die when my parents were killed. Somehow I kept getting up every day and here I’m more than six months later, chatting in the darkness with you.”

  “I’m glad you dinnae die, Emma MacPherson.”

  “Thank you. You know, I’m almost glad I lost my mother’s ring because I got to meet you. It’s not every day you meet someone you can talk to like an old friend. Most people avoid me because they don’t know what to say anymore. I pretty much keep to myself. I really miss laughing, talking and just spending time with my parents. We were close. We didn’t have much, but we had each other and I never lacked for anything.”

  “That sounds like heaven, lass.”

  “It was. That’s why I miss them so much. They were involved in my life and I was a big part of theirs.”

  “Emma, I dunna mean to interrupt, but I think you should take one step back and look under your right foot.”

  Jumping back, Emma caught a glimpse of gold between the blades of thick grass. She’d been so caught up in talking about her parents she’d not been watching where they were walking. Grabbing the circle of gold, she put it on her thumb. She wasn’t going to lose it ever again.

  “Alex, you found it!”

  Actually, he’d known where it was all along. He’d followed her around all day, sitting quietly beside her when she spread her blanket out down by the shore and ate her midday meal. He’d climbed the stairs behind her when she went to the tower house to look out over the loch and he’d inhaled the scent of her hair when she sat for more than an hour in the middle of where the smithy used to heat up the courtyard.

  “How can I ever thank you? Just name it.”

  She danced around him, smiling as she gazed down at her mother’s ring.

  “Spend the night with me.”

  “I was thinking about dinner or a big hug, Alex. I don’t know you well enough to spend the night with you. I’m not really that kind of girl, but I appreciate the interest. It’s been a long time since someone was interested in me in that way.”

  “I’m asking you to sit with me, that’s all. I get so lonely out here with not a soul to talk to.”

  His voice was casual, but Emma heard an honest plea for company. She’d heard the same tone in her own voice, but it was a rare soul who heard it for the plea it was. Alex wanted a friend and she wasn’t going to turn him down as so many had done to her.

  “If sitting’s all we’re doing, then count me in, I’ll be happy to stay. Where would you like to go … to sit?”

  “How about the smithy’s knoll? The ground is soft and the breeze is cool.”

  “Wonderful, I’ll lead the way since I can’t walk as well as you do in the dark.”

  Arriving there, Emma settled herself on the soft grass and switched off her flashlight. It seemed obtrusive. Tucking it in her pocket, she’d need it to find her way back to the road and her car later so didn’t want to lose it. Leaning back with arm folded beneath her head, she inhaled slowly, absorbing the magic of the night.

  “Do you believe in faerys, Emma MacPherson?” Alex sat down beside her.

  She could see the outline of his body, but he remained cloaked in shadows. She wondered what he looked like. He sounded sexy, in that special Highlander way that made no apology for being male—all male.

  “You can’t spend your life in Scotland and not believe in the fae folk. There’s magic everywhere, especially in the night. Why do you ask?”

  Alex was torn. He didn’t have much time; he could feel the magic gathering inside of him. It was almost time. The transformation only happened during a Blue Moon and he knew tonight was one of those nights. He’d already seen a glimpse or two of the blue-tinged orb hiding in the night sky.

  Would she accept him for who and what he was or would she be terrified and run like the others? If she ran, he knew he could not follow, no matter how much he wanted to. He was bound to Castle Urquhart.

  “Would you like to hear a story?”

  “Yes, I love stories. It’s been a long time since anyone’s taken the time to tell me a faery tale.”

  “Hundreds of years ago, the Lady of the Loch fell in love with a human, a braw Highlander. An honest man who worked hard protecting his clan and the land of his birth. He was a tall, handsome man who was good with a blade, but it was another blade the women all loved.”

  Emma giggled, but didn’t interrupt. She felt a strange tingling sensation ripple across her lips and then her cheeks, but she attributed it to the magic of the night. She was having a wonderful time with Alex and was looking forward to the rest of the evening, as well as the rest of his tale.

  Alex continued to look down at Emma. He’d seen enough of the loch to last him a thousand lifetimes. Running his fingers across her lips painted with shadow, he traced a tiny circle on her cheek, the innocent caress shaking him to his core. It would happen any time.

  He had to go on or risk losing her to his past, his prison.

  “The Lady of the Loch was a powerful faery. She was also very jealous. Each time he took a woman on the shores of her loch, she became enraged and plotted to make him pay for breaking her cold heart.”

  “Did she tell the Highlander of her feelings?”

  “Nay, it’s what made her spell so unfair and cruel. He found out the day he met her—the day she took away all that was precious to him.
He could see everyone and everything that came and went in his castle, but nobody could see him. Worse, he could never leave.”

  “Never?”

  “There was a way, only it happened so rarely that the Highlander gave up all hope of ever leaving after about two hundred years. He never hungered, never thirsted, never slept. He just was—and wasn’t.”

  “Alex, that is the saddest story I’ve ever heard. Did he find a way to break the spell or are you going to tell me he is still enchanted in some old Scottish ruin?”

  Looking up, he felt the moon’s power pulsing through him as it sifted through the dissipating clouds. It was almost instantaneous. He went from being there in spirit to being there in body. But, he could just as quickly change back if the clouds returned and covered up the blue moon. Of course, it would all end before daybreak, but he was going to enjoy his temporary freedom for as long as it lasted. There was no telling how long it would be until he transformed again. If ever.

  “He’s still enchanted, but he wants to break free more than anything else in this world.”

  “Let’s help him do it. What do we need to do? I’m game if you are.”

  “First, you must allow me to kiss you.”

  Emma was about to reply about that being the cheesiest come-on in the history of beastly taverns, but when she looked into Alex’s face for the first time. It was all she could do to breathe.

  Dark hair—rippling about his shoulders—fell in tendrils that danced with the wind as it skipped off the loch. His eyes were shadowed by the moon, yet their intensity sucked any resistance from her, replaced it with an energy she could only explain as magic. It was potent, powerful and everything that was passionate.

  Alex didn’t move, but allowed Emma to take her fill of him, bathed in blue moonlight.

  She reached up to touch his jaw. Enrapt, waves of shivers shuddered through her prostrate form. He was wearing a creamy, linen shirt tucked into his kilt, made from the familiar Grant tartan of red and green. A leather belt held the entire ensemble in place, complete with a broadsword. Leather shoes and girded stockings completed his attire. She could not have imagined him wearing anything else. Of course, she’d seen countless men wearing kilts, but never had she seen a kilt wearing such a fine example of what a man should be.

  Nay, what a Highlander should be.

  “Lass, you must say ‘aye’, if you are to free me.”

  “Aye.”

  It was more the expelling of her pent-up breath than it was permission for him to kiss her. She was captivated. He was magnetic and she was attracted to him. Even so she had liked him before she saw what he looked like. Alex Grant was a good man, not just a damn good-looking man.

  Lying beside her, Alex propped himself up on one elbow, while taming several wisps of her hair that had broken free from their restraints with his other hand. He could see Emma’s chest rise and fall, faster and faster, but now was no time to stop. The clouds could return at any time.

  “Free your tresses, lass, I would see your hair down.”

  It was a command, yet it felt like the answer to months of prayer. Eagerly, Emma removed the dark band and shook her hair out. It covered his hand, resting just above her head with the silky tresses.

  Locking eyes, he leaned down and supped on her lips. She tasted like fine wine, fresh fruit and roasted beef. She felt like a newborn babe, fine cloth and a fragile spring blossom. She smelled like rain, warmth and welcome. When he plunged his tongue into the recesses of her mouth, his hands slipped into her hair. He was stung with the hot feel of her skin, then cold caress of her hair stirring in the breeze.

  Once he had a taste, his hunger to feast upon her became overwhelming. She dueled with him inside his mouth and then her own, giving and taking in equal measure. Her hands found his face and then moved lower, tugging his shirt free, so she could run her hands up his torso and into the light patch of hair that covered his chest. In a moment’s gasp for breath, she pulled his shirt off.

  Still, he could not go any further without asking. “Lass, would you allow me to touch your body?”

  “Aye.” This time, she spoke with assurance and anticipation. She sat up, facing him and waited.

  Reverently, he grasped the elastic waistband of her sweatshirt and swept it off her body. Looking at her, he was surprised to find a small patch of silky fabric covered her breasts in an enticing manner that fueled his passion. He ran his fingers over, around and then under the strange restraint, but did not find any ties or other contraption to remove her of the undergarment.

  Perceiving his dilemma, Emma covered his hands with her own and showed him how to pop open the front closure of her bra. Instead of touching her breasts, he gently pushed the cups off of her shoulders and then down her arms before neatly folding it and placing it nearby. Next, he retrieved both of their shirts and laid them flat behind her before returning to her side.

  He sensed her uncertainty, so he first cupped her chin and eased her back down to the ground with his gentle kisses. Once she felt comfortable again in his embrace, Alex started at her lips and slowly traced a path over her chin, down her neck and then to each breast, encircling each dark nipple in turn. He held her with his eyes, assuring her she was safe with him.

  Instead of returning to her lips, he kissed her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her chin and then worked his way down her neck. His hands kept busy cupping, squeezing and plucking her pert mounds. It was nothing like what was to come when his mouth took over so that his hands could move even farther down.

  Alex made slow, strong circles across her abdomen and each time he passed her southernmost point, his hand dropped another fraction of an inch. Emma could feel the blood coursing through her veins, but it was centered between her legs instead of her chest, for the first time in her life. Thanking the stars above for elastic waistbands and clean panties! Her toes curled up inside her tennis shoes when Alex breached the obtrusive band and continued his slow journey.

  When he reached her dark curls that welcomed him in their own slick, special way, Alex brought her back to the present before he got up and knelt at her feet. He silently removed her shoes and then her socks, placing them carefully beside her bra. Reaching up, he smiled when she raised her bottom off the ground so he could remove her pants and then her panties. Folding the panties and adding them to the pile, he carefully removed his kilt and then laid it and her pants below Emma’s legs before he eased himself down.

  Fully erect, Emma saw that Alex was as impressive without clothes as he had been with them.

  “Emma, lass, would you allow me to touch you inside?”

  He would not, could not continue until she gave him leave. It was part of the twisted spell, the reason he was still enchanted. It was all up to her. He had no control of her, himself or the spell that bound him to Castle Urquhart.

  “Aye.”

  Alex let out a breath he’d not even realized he’d been holding. Starting back at her mouth, he led her down the path with him, showing her beautiful things all along the way. He could feel himself fading in and out, but he glanced up and saw that it was just a few small clouds that had blown in from the sea.

  Nothing to worry about—yet.

  Emma’s body felt like a lightning rod getting struck time after time from heaven, although she remained grounded on earth. Alex ravished her body, but he never took without asking or appreciating. There was a sense of urgency about his seduction, but she’d thrown caution to the wind with her first ‘aye’ and would follow wherever he led her. It was all up to him, she placed herself in his hands.

  The hands of a gentle stranger.

  She was tired of being alone, bouncing around without ties or roots. Tired of living alone, in fear and in sorrow. She was ready to risk all. There was too much life left for her to live and, if Alex was a part of that life, she’d be doubly blessed. If not, she’d take a beautiful new memory away with her, something she could treasure as her very own.

  If he walked away in the morn
ing and never looked back, she’d be wiser. She’d also be forever grateful to him for breaking her out of the prison she’d been living in. Emma didn’t know how he knew just what she needed to hear, what she needed to feel, what she needed to experience, but he did and she would accept it for what it was and wait to see what it could be.

  Alex dipped his fingers into her, he knew her sweet center was ready to receive him. Even so, he didn’t want to hurry. He wanted to give her at least a portion of what she was giving him. Stroking her slowly, methodically, Alex drew her frustration along with her passion. Grinding her thighs against his hand and his leg, he teased her until it felt almost criminal. He’d wanted to draw out her pleasure, but he’d also been postponing the last question.

  When he could hold back no longer, Alex rolled to his feet. Kneeling once more between her feet, he placed a hand on each knee and applied gentle pressure. He could feel her resist, but he was powerless to continue without her leave to do so. Looking into her eyes, Alex held her until he felt her legs open on their own account.

  “Lass, would you allow me to make love to you?”

  He made no promise, no false tokens of affection, no dangling carrots of marriage, but neither did he take what was not freely given.

  Emma wanted to share this with him, and while she hoped and prayed it would turn into something more, she accepted him and what he offered this night without any other strings. It was time to stop merely existing. She hadn’t died in that car wreck and it was time to live again.

  “Aye, Alex.”

  Something flickered in his eyes, though she didn’t know what. Anticipation, triumph or pure male pleasure? She’d wager, it was all three. With a nod of his head, in what she assumed was silent thanks, he watched her while he lowered his body on top of hers.