Impulse (Isola dei Sogni)

by Raven McAllan

  The animal jumped over a rose bush and loped across the lawn. Mia reckoned she had to be dreaming or she would've passed out. She was the first one to admit she was a wuss in a lot of things and the thought of flying without the comforting surrounds of a business class cabin was high up on her list of wussiness.

  That aside, where the heck was she being taken? What would Meryl do when her sister was nowhere to be found? It wasn't as if anyone would know, or if they did, who would believe it? Abducted by a tiger? Yet another romance book title in her life. Why couldn't it be something like A Charmed Life, or A Week at the Beach? All of a sudden, Mia saw the funny side. After all, she couldn't actually do anything about it, so she might as well relax and enjoy the ride—if that was possible. How on earth can he manage to do it, anyway? I'm no lightweight.

  'Magic'.

  Who on earth said that? There was no answer.

  As long as he didn't spin around too much, she'd be fine; otherwise, she might throw up on his pelt. If only she hadn't eaten that omelet.

  'Good girl'.

  The words filled her mind. Where on earth had they come from? And who in their right mind would call her a girl, anyway? She lifted her head, and the tiger turned and ran sideways. Oh-oh, not good. Mia felt sick on a kiddies' roundabout. She shut her eyes in a hurry. There was a damned cliff in front of them. How they were going to navigate that, she didn't think she needed to know. She had a hysterical thought—I want my mum—before the tiger slowed and pawed the ground. She sighed. Like she knew what that meant.

  Easy, he'll jump. Hold on love, you're being so brave, not long now. And open your eyes.

  It sounded like Dylan, but for the life of her, Mia couldn't fathom out why she was imagining him talking to her. But then, she couldn't get her head round the fact she was riding in a tiger's mouth, either.

  I'm going to wake up on the settee, in front of the fire, at home in Scotland. It'll be dreich and dismal weather, the fire will have gone out, and I'll be late for work. Go figure.

  The tiger shook his head and Mia opened her eyes. He was scaling the cliff as if it was a gentle incline, not a one-in-three gradient. Before she had time to worry about all the 'what ifs': what if he slipped and lost his footing, what if he opened his mouth and yawned, what if—oh stop it, woman.

  If it's my time, it's my time. I just hope someone knows my favorite flowers, and plays Cabaret as my coffin comes in. To her relief, they reached the top, and the tiger bounded over the rim and onto the rough turf. He set off at a run toward a cottage near some trees. The stride was smooth, but the ground wasn't.

  "Oh lord." Mia didn't know she'd spoken—squawked—until the animal shook his head, and she bobbed about like a plastic duck in a bathtub. That was a definite chastisement. "Look, I can't help having motion sickness, okay? It's just me, my quirk. So build a bridge and get over it, whoever or whatever you are." She swallowed several times. This seemed to have gone on for hours.

  Tiredness or something like it rolled over her in waves, and Mia gave into it. Whatever was going to happen would happen regardless of if she were awake or not.

  Dylan sensed Marloth's presence. Was it the cottage that made him use his gift more, be more accepting of his powers? Or was it meeting Mia? He thought Mia had a lot to do with it, but for now, he wasn't prepared to analyze his actions. That could wait.

  Within seconds, Marloth was there with him. He lay down on the thick carpet, his pelt almost merging into its luxurious depths, and gently put Mia on the floor next to him. Dylan nodded his thanks, and put a bowl of water next to the shifter. If tigers could be said to grin, the look on Marloth's face was just that, before he bent his head and lapped at the water. Dylan lifted Mia and carried her upstairs into his chosen bedroom. After making sure she was comfortable on the bed, and knowing he had a few minutes reprieve until she became aware of her surroundings, he returned downstairs to where Marloth was waiting.

  Seeing him, Marloth stretched, shook, and returned to his 'human' form.

  "Thanks, mate, though how come you drew the short straw?"

  Marloth snickered. "Faran wussed out, said he needed his cock more than I needed mine. I think he has a woman somewhere. God, I so wish I could say that. Well, yeah, maybe one day, if I'm honest. Oh god, shoot me now, and forget that statement."

  "My pleasure, rifle or shotgun?" Dylan laughed. "Or hand you over to a certain lady to do the deed?"

  Marloth shook his head and grimaced.

  "On second thought, don't bother. I want to watch the rugby. And your lady, Dyl? She's a keeper, I tell you. Poor woman she was bricking it at times. Especially when we came up the cliff. I tell you, if she can cope with what I put her through, she can cope with anything. You need to keep her. Use your witching spells on her or something."

  "Who said I'm a witch?" Dylan asked lazily. "Blaine is a Dream-maker, Papa is a Grand Master, and me? I have to choose and soon, to accept or deny my gifts." He shrugged. "If I accept, then I'll eventually take over for Papa, at his time of choosing, learn secrets and the old ways, and mediate; therefore, be above all arguments and hatreds."

  "And if you choose not to accept?"

  Dylan shook his head. "Life will never be the same again."

  There was a crash.

  "What the hell?"

  "Mia," they both said at once.

  Marloth stood and shook his head. His tawny hair streamed out around him and shimmered as he began to shift. "Over to you, Dyl. I'm out of here. Er, security round and all that. Good luck." His shift completed, he loped to the door and disappeared.

  "Coward." Dylan muttered to Marloth's back. He turned toward the stairs. There was no point in putting it off. He had to go and face Mia.

  He sensed her angry muttering long before he saw her.

  'What asshole is responsible for this crap? A bloody coward, that's who. Not even bothering to face up to me. Yeah, this whole island is a fucking joke. Wind up animals, stupid people getting into my head, and that asshole Marloth messing with my sister. As for Dylan . . . words fail me.'

  He could only hope she stayed that way whilst he explained.

  He opened the bedroom door. She was off the bed and three vases flew at him in quick succession. They all missed.

  "Rats, I knew I should have concentrated in P.E. Well? I need answers! What the hell is going on? I might have known, though. If I'd the sense I'd been born with, I'd've known. Moron. Ignore me for as long as you felt like it and then get that super toy to kidnap me and bring me to God knows where. What next, Asshole? Have your wicked way with me? Huh!"

  "I've already had my wicked way with you—several times," Dylan remarked as he leaned against the doorjamb. Was it his natural reflexes or his gift that made him swiftly move to the left and dodge the vase that missed him by inches and shattered on the floor? Her aim seemed to improve the angrier she got.

  "Now, Mia," he began and dodged in the opposite direction from the bedside clock. Then the phone and a notebook. When he saw Mia eyeing up the dressing table stool, he thought he'd better make a move. While there was still some of the bedroom left.

  "Don't you 'now Mia' me, you moron. I am a person. A guest here. I have rights and oof—"

  He lifted her and silenced her in the manner of all romances—with a kiss. Though he was quick to make sure her arms were pinned to her side and she couldn't move her feet to aim a kick.

  "Ah, Mia, love, I've done this all wrong, haven't I? I thought you'd find this romantic. I wanted to sweep you away with a grand romantic gesture to show you I can do romantic. That I'm not a bean counter or a dry as dust behind the scene man. That I want you quite desperately. And yeah, that I take the risk you might blow me off." And you may well just do that when I tell you the rest. He picked up her hand and kissed her wrist in a tiny romantic gesture.

  'Oh lordy. I am in a romance novel. So what next? Do we walk away together into the sunset?'

  She pulled back from him and traced his lips with her fingers. It was a tender g
esture, and each feather-light touch sent tingles through him. His cock responded and stretched the denim of his jeans to its limit.

  "We can if you want." Dylan ran his fingers through her hair, and stroked the nape of her neck. The little shiver she gave was as welcome as a win on the lottery. "I'm game."

  "Shit, I must stop saying my thoughts out loud." Mia sighed. She leaned into him and rested her head on his chest.

  "No, don't. I like it." He didn't bother to say that if he chose to he could read them anyway.

  It was time for explanations. Dylan lifted her into his arms, pleased when she clung around his neck.

  Her thigh brushed his cock and she giggled. "Someone's pleased to see me." She dropped one hand and stroked him through his jeans.

  "Shit, woman, do you want me to drop you? That is one stroke too close for comfort. I'm about to break out as it is." Dylan tightened his grip.

  Mia winked. "That'll make it easier for me to have my wicked way with you once you've groveled enough."

  If groveling was needed, Dylan decided he'd grin and bear it—and grovel.

  "Mia, I'm sorry. I was an asshole. But I have a lot to think about, to decide on. And . . ." he shrugged. "I fell like a ton of bricks for you. And that is weird. Not because you're not fall-worthy or—" He stopped mid-sentence as Mia rolled her eyes.

  "Dylan, I'm well over forty, overweight and no oil painting. Okay, my teeth are my own, and I don't use a hair dye, but come on. I'm not the sort of woman a younger fit guy falls for. That's in novels, not in life." 'But how I wish it were. I'd be a happy bunny then, and I could jump his bones and know he'd let me.'

  Dylan considered her. "You think so? Well, lots of things are in life and we don't realize it. And you, my love, can jump my bones whenever you like. Before you ask, you didn't say that out loud. You actually don't talk out loud as often as you think."

  She looked at him as if he'd sprouted horns. He guessed it was a lot to swallow. Tigers, thought readers, and heaven help them if he revealed everything about his family.

  "Er, so, what exactly are you trying to say? You read my mind?"

  He was pleased that she looked more intrigued than horrified. He nodded. "It's one of my gifts."

  'Along with making love so superbly I'm still tingling?'

  Dylan laughed. "If you say so."

  "Bollocks. I need to watch my mind. Okay, so if I believe that, what is this place?"

  Dylan led her to a settee set against one wall, and pulled her down to sit next to him. "Somewhere to set aside your ingrained ideas and open your mind to all possibilities." He hesitated. "Hell, Mia, it's so complicated to explain. And I'm shit scared I'll frighten you away before we discover what we might become."

  "Oh, for heaven's sake, Dylan." Mia struggled to sit up. "I'm in my forties, not my teens. Try me and see. I've suspended belief so much this last day or so, I'll go with the flow. I do believe you can read minds, because if I didn't, I'd be on my way to the funny farm. The tiger is a bit harder to swallow, but I got here somehow, and it doesn't sit well to say it was a robot or something."

  "No, that was Marloth, and before you go off on whatever else he might be, he's a shifter. He's new, young, and sometimes over-eager, but his heart is true." He wondered what Mia's reaction to that would be.

  She stiffened but nodded. "Of whom we will discuss later. Go on."

  Well, at least she had an open mind—sort of.

  "Er, well, Faran, our head of security, is also a shifter." Dylan wondered when she'd hold her hand up and say enough already. "Marloth has been his protégé for a while. He was in a bad mindset when he arrived here. He's changed out of all recognition since he arrived."

  "Hmm, I bet. Pity he didn't help other people before he bolted here. A shifter. After what's happened tonight, I guess I can go with it. So you're not?"

  "Nope, not one of my talents. I'm a witch. So are Papa and Blaine." Was this it? Mia had stiffened.

  "Hmm, a gang of three?"

  "Not at all." He knew he sounded stilted. "We are individuals with different skills. Until this week, I had never become involved with anything other than the legal side. I came to help out this week as a favor to Papa. He said he needed me. A special lady needed me. I don't know if he was right or not, but I need that special lady."

  Would she believe him? Dylan had never heard his blood pass through his body before, but he could swear he heard it now. The pulse in his neck throbbed, like the time he'd hit his fingernail with a hammer.

  "So you say. You're good with words, Dylan. And reading minds, it seems. Are you reading me now?"

  He shook his head. "No, this is too important."

  Mia looked relieved. "That's something then, and not because I'm thinking lust and sex. But I want to know something without you having known about it in advance. This island. What is it to you?"

  Dylan knew that was the make or break question. He hesitated, not sure how to put everything into words. Before, he'd always been so negative about Isola Dei Sogni. No matter, it was part of him, engrained into his mind, body, and soul, and he'd chosen to ignore it. In a stereotypical flash of clarity, he realized it was important. He could no longer ignore the place and what it stood for, as he couldn't ignore the woman sitting next to him. Whether or not he could do as his father wanted was another thing. So much hinged on Mia. Somehow, he had to import this knowledge to her.

  "The island. Where we make dreams come true. Where anything good and legal can happen and does. An island to experience your fantasy, and maybe find love. My heritage, if I chose to embrace it. I have to decide soon. Papa wants to, well, pursue his own happiness. It's time he was allowed to. My time is to take over or walk away."

  "Not Blaine?"

  Dylan rolled his shoulders; they were tight with tension. "No, it has to follow the bloodline. If I deny it, it goes to . . . someone we don't want. I can't say any more."

  Mia stroked his shoulder, and some of the tension left him.

  "What will you do?"

  "That rather depends on you. It's said that if you do find you're true love here, it happens so fast you don't have time to worry or fight it. If it is right, then you know. I know."

  He looked at her, and welcomed the compassion he saw in her eyes. He wouldn't look and see what she was thinking. She had to tell him of her own free will.

  "Then it's just as well I know too, isn't it?" Mia kissed him, and he felt all her love spill into him. "What are we going to do about it, Dyl?"

  "Us? Take it one day at a time. Learn about each other, strengthen each other and grow old together. Or is that going too far too fast?" He held his breath. The hairs on his arms stood upright, and a shiver stroked his skin and increased his tension.

  Mia tucked her head to one side and fiddled with her ear lobe. "Yes." She paused.

  Tentacles of fear twined around his heart. Dylan hated the closed look on her face. He'd promised not to look into her mind, and he managed to keep to that, but only just. When she spoke it was like the death knell.

  "Much too fast."

  Dylan's face went white and he swayed. Mia grabbed him in alarm. Had she been too brutal? Damn it, he says he can read my mind, so why the hell isn't he doing it? Mia remembered he'd said what needed discussing was too important for him to find out the answers through reading her mind. Darn it. She knew she had to explain, but that equally, it wasn't going to be easy.

  "For goodness sake, sit down before you fall down." Worry made her voice sharp and she winced inside. It wasn't what she was trying to achieve. "If you're hell bent on not peeking into my mind, you'll have to put up with me trying to explain." Mia pushed Dylan into a nearby chair, and knelt next to him.

  "It's complicated, and not something I talk about very often. It would upset Meryl if she knew, so I've just zipped up a big part of my life and locked it away. Damn it, can I have a cuddle?"

  He looked startled, but nodded. "Love, you never need to ask. I'm trying to give you space. Come on, snuggle in. Up
on my lap and I'll will my body to behave." He wiggled his eyebrows and the silly gesture lightened the atmosphere.

  Mia sniggered and climbed into his lap. His cock wasn't listening to him. She wriggled.

  "Ah, well," Dylan said in a rueful tone. "Sometimes my will isn't strong enough to sway my body."

  She smiled and then sighed as he put his arms round her waist. "Well, try, or I'll wriggle and you'll . . . enough said. Change of subject. I need this. Just hold me and let me spill it all. Right?" Mia took a deep breath. "When Meryl was three, mum and dad died in a car crash. I was engaged to a guy I thought walked on water. I trusted him with, well, with everything. Ha, talk about young, silly, and gullible. We'd bought a house, or so I thought. Got a joint account, or so I thought."

  His hands tightened on her waist.

  "Yup, you've got it. I thought wrong. When he realized I intended to look after Meryl, he took off. And I discovered that joint was no such thing. The bastard had fooled me. I was so bloody stupid, and signed where he said, and believed him when he said I needn't. I trusted him you see. Green or what? Everything was in his name. He'd fooled me and mum and dad. They thought he was a lovely man. Ha. Yeah, right. It was lucky the house was left jointly to Meryl and me, and all tied up tight. They'd made their will long before he came onto the scene and thank god they hadn't changed the terms. It was lucky we hadn't actually married, and he couldn't get his sticky little mitts on it. I cut my losses, sold it, and bought something smaller for us, and well, I got on with it. Yeah, it wasn't easy, and shit, at times I wondered why I bothered. But I did it. No benefits, no handouts, just me. And here we are."

  She looked up at Dylan. The expression on his face made her want to cry.