Spellbound-Legend

by Claudy Conn

  “Ah,” said the prince, “here you are, Talbot.” He glanced at the woman standing beside Julian while Maxie stared at her in scarcely disguised shock. She was pretty, and she was as close as she could get to Julian, and he had obviously closed the door …

  Julian politely inclined his head in their general direction. He did not look at Maxie, and there was no invitation in the set of his shoulders.

  A cold ice spear pricked at Maxie’s heart. Ridiculous—she knew she was being ridiculous. It was after all his house, and he was entitled to some privacy when he worked—or played. This last thought tripped over her brain and again managed to find and pinch her heart.

  His curt attitude tingled her anger cells, but it was the person standing, bending (heck, practically a part of him) that had Maxie in a web of jealousy. The woman was exceptionally pretty with a great body, and she was tall, which, Maxie immediately pointed out to herself, she was not.

  In addition to this was the fact that the young woman beamed at the prince but ignored Maxie as though she weren’t there. At that moment this stranger was drawing a very warm smile from Julian—a fact that Maxie pointed out was something she had worked long and hard to do and not always with success. Deep inside Maxie’s libido there was an explosion.

  She found herself speechless as she glanced askance the prince. She could see that after he initially glanced towards the woman—and Maxie had the feeling he knew who she was—he quickly forgot her. Casually, he remarked to Julian, “We have some news—but we can see … you wish to be alone.” The prince had made a point of saying this, and Maxie saw Julian frown darkly. The prince turned to Max and said possessively, “Come, Lia …”

  Julian got to his feet. “Wait … how very remiss of me,” he started and turned to smile at the attractive woman. She smiled up at him, and Maxie actually saw her bat her lashes. Jealousy raked deep gouges in her mind.

  “I would like to introduce you to Ms. Mary Newton of Moore and Associates, my estate agents and solicitors.” He turned and without looking directly at them lightly said, “My guests, Miss Maxine Reigate and Sir Breslyn Dagda.”

  How Maxie did it, she wasn’t sure, but she managed to extend her hand. Mary Newton scarcely touched it as she turned to Breslyn and cooed, “I am so pleased to meet you.” He politely bent over her hand, turned away, and put an arm around Maxie, whose emotions were in a tangle.

  She was upset with Mary Newton on two counts. One, she did not like being dismissed. Two, she hated seeing Julian react to her sexually, and she could see that he was! In addition to that, he seemed to be making an effort to show Mary Newton that Maxine was only a guest—not a romantic interest.

  It hurt. She told herself she was a stupid girl. Why should it matter? Hadn’t she just been kissing the prince? Oh yes, indeedy! What goes around, comes around, she told herself. In fact, Julian had been getting an eyeful for a long time, hadn’t he? Gooses and gander stuff there. Had she been trying to get him jealous, she wondered now. Probably …

  They say—she didn’t know who they were—that if you saved someone’s life, you became responsible for them. She had saved Julian from a bullet. Well, she didn’t feel very responsible for Julian Talbot at that moment. So much for that theory! She told herself he, this, was nothing to her. And then all at once she found his blue eyes watching her face. She felt something almost electric between them. Confusion set in, and she tried calming herself. She told herself that Julian Talbot was a self-assured man. He was going to do what he wanted to do. He would be with … whomever he wanted to be with … and yet she saw him looking intently at her, watching her expressions.

  The prince was frowning, for a different reason, by the time Julian found his voice again. “Ms. Newton of Moore has come all the way from London to help me with some estate business that needs my immediate attention. I would imagine we should be free … soon?” The question was on his face as he turned to Mary.

  Mary Newton was now staring at the prince. In fact, she looked like she wanted to throw herself at his feet. Who could blame her? Exotic, sexual come-hither was a good description of the prince, and Mary was ready to buy.

  Maxie didn’t need to be a mind reader to see that these two male hunks had overwhelmed Mary Newton’s senses. She had likely never been in the same room with so much bulging testosterone before. She didn’t know that one was from another world and the other from another time. Both males were magnetic, and well, really to be fair, Maxie couldn’t blame her for flirting with everything she had, and that was what she was doing without even being aware of it.

  Mary realized that Julian was waiting for her to respond, and she hurriedly said, “Yes, soon, soon. We just have a few more papers to be read, and then once you have signed them, I can be on my way.”

  Sweetly Julian answered her, “There is no reason for you to rush off. You must stay for dinner, Mary.”

  “I would love that,” she answered on a hushed note that definitely said, Dinner-wine-dessert … definitely dessert! Her body quivered.

  Maxie was already undone. Hurt wasn’t a sharp enough word to describe what she felt when she heard him call the newcomer by her first name. She was Miss Reigate, and Mary Newton was Mary! I save his life, and I get the cold shoulder, she gets his smiles and his good humor. Well, okay, all right. I got the picture, and I am so outta here!

  Maxie took the prince’s hand, turned her back on Julian, and pulled the prince along with her as she stomped out of the room. The prince followed until they were well away from the library, and then he stopped her to ask, “Lia … what is wrong? Have I done something? You seem agitated. Is it because we did not inform Talbot about DuLaine? We will tell him about DuLaine as soon as he is done with that woman.”

  She looked into Breslyn’s silver eyes. She looked for truth. “Did you think she was beautiful?”

  His silver eyes took on a wicked glint of pleasure. “Oh—you noticed how she flirted with me?” He snapped his fingers. “Then you must have seen that she got nothing from me. Lia, there is not another female human alive that compares to you.”

  “Yes, but what did you think of her?” Maxie insisted.

  “I know that she is overly ambitious … to a fault, and”—he touched Maxie’s nose—“I know that she is self-absorbed if not downright selfish.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Never mind. Suffice it to say that I know. Lia, you are just the opposite of this Mary. Your beauty is from the inside out and then back again. Your green eyes shimmer with compassion—you are the sweet promise of passion. I want only you, my Lia.”

  Words for a woman to swoon by, oh yes. She said to her doting prince, her mind elsewhere, “Ah-huh.”

  She realized it was inadequate, but it had been all that she could muster because of her swirling thoughts—thoughts that needed investigation. He frowned, and she reached to touch his face. She didn’t want to hurt him; she didn’t really think she could. Oh, maybe his pride, but not his heart—if Fae had heart equivalents. She was fairly certain the prince was only infatuated. She could see his indecision. He was not used to having females refuse him. Perhaps that was part of the attraction he felt for her, she wondered; perhaps it was the challenge?

  Suddenly and before she could stop herself, she whispered, “Bres … take me to Tir.” Little did she realize that he would immediately comply before she had a chance to think it over!

  * * *

  She looked around. Yes siree! She was in Faeryland. Call it Isle of Tir, or Tir na-nog, or Otherworld, it was still Faeryland. No mistake. The colors slapped her in the face with their vibrancy. The waterfall glittered with diamond spray and emptied into a perfectly landscaped lake. The aroma of fresh spring greens and roses wafted all around, enchanting her to breathe deeply over and over.

  Flower gardens, white stone terraces, and trimmed vine-covered gazebos demanded that she stay. Birds of every color perched in trees that didn’t look like any she had ever seen. The breeze sang a lullaby that ent
iced and mesmerized.

  To top it all there was a pair of white swans swimming at one end of the lake and a pair of black swans at the other end. In the middle of the lake, a small, woodsy island beckoned with the song of the South Pacific. Maxie couldn’t speak. This had to be heaven … and then her eyes traveled to Dagda Palace. Okay, she was in Disney!

  It was Cinderella’s Palace full with whimsical lines, sculptured ivy, and arched windows. She turned to Breslyn and said, “Oh my gosh!” Everything said, stay, but she hurriedly reminded herself, No staying.

  He laughed. “I thought you would like it. I designed Dagda all myself.”

  She had to wonder if she was being spelled. He had promised no tricks, and she believed him, so she just looked around in awe and took it at face value. This was Faery—or Tir as the Tuatha Dé called it. At any rate, it would be pleasant to hang out here and forget Lord Awful. Hang out? What was she thinking? Disney was good … but you just couldn’t live in Disney, although if she had been a child she certainly wouldn’t be able to see why not.

  As she looked around and rationalized she brought her eyes back to the prince and found him standing like a god, glorious, breathtaking, and totally in the buff!

  He still wore his gold torque around his neck. He wore two gold armbands engraved with the insignia of his royal house, and his biceps still sported his tattooed runes. Breslyn’s dark blonde hair, which was usually slicked back and tied with leather, was loose and framing his sinfully handsome face. Maxie’s green eyes traveled over his rippled waves of muscled torso to his flat iron belly, and then lower still; staring, she couldn’t look away from the size of his maleness! And that hard, huge maleness was doing a little dance for her.

  She pointed and said, “No, no, oh no. Clothes, fella … now!” Maxie wasn’t sure if she should be proud of herself for self-control or chastising herself for a fool.

  He laughed and reached for her. She took a step back. Bam, he had on a pair of form-fitting worn leather pants and a pair of leather sandals on his feet. “There, my sweet Lia … better?”

  She laughed. “No, not better, but necessary for the moment.” She told herself that her prince really was one. He was quite a gentlefae!

  “Ah, then we shall press on … moment by moment …” He was coming for her again, and there was just such a look on his face, and in his glittering silver eyes.

  Maxie looked into those eyes, and once again she saw the ancient Tuatha Dé. Time—thousands of years were in those eyes. There was arcane knowledge in the recesses of his eyes, but now, on the surface she saw something else. Lust. No doubt about it. Princey boy is hungry!

  She looked at herself, for suddenly she felt a soft material swish around her hips. “Yup, nearly naked here!” She wagged a finger at him. A soft, sheer black material thing hung from skinny straps and fitted her waist. It didn’t go past the top of her thighs and had replaced her clothes. Her full breasts were popping out of this sheer material, and she couldn’t deny her nipples were hard, perky, and demanding attention.

  Breslyn’s eyes were on her nipples, and she could see desire lighting up his eyes. She heard the tone of his voice as he reached once more, determined this time to take her into his arms. “Lia.”

  She stepped back further. “Oh no … clothes … my … clothes … now.”

  “You are wearing clothes … for the moment,” he answered on a dangerous note.

  He reached for her again, and she stepped back. The earth had turned into decking. She was on a dock over the lake.

  “These are not clothes, Bres … you can see right through them. This is not what I bargained for.”

  He was still staring at her breasts, going further, looking at the tuft between her legs perfectly visible beneath the babydoll thing she wore. “Yes …” he said, “I can see through them, and you are exquisite.” He reached for her again. She stepped back.

  “Stop it now, Breslyn.” She saw the frown descend over his features, but he was still putting out his hand towards her.

  She stepped back again, and all of a sudden she felt herself falling …

  It happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that she wasn’t able to think. She felt water swirl all around as her feet touched a sandy bottom. Like a bazooka she shot herself up and out, gasping for air, and found Breslyn jumping in and taking her into his arms!

  * * *

  Damn it to bloody hell! Julian Talbot, you are a bloody fool—a bloody fool! Lord Awful as Maxie had just dubbed him was pacing around his castle like a madman. His fist went to his gritted teeth, and a slew of curses came hissing out of his mouth.

  He had known the moment he saw her green eyes fill up with hurt. He had known when the look of confusion and shock came over her beautiful face. He had hurt her … badly … perhaps irretrievably. Could he make this right with her? “Fuck! What have I done?” He spoke to an empty chair.

  She would be right to run headlong into the prince’s arms. The prince made no secret of the fact that he wanted her. He fluttered romance at her all the time. He made her feel like she was the most special woman in the entire world … and she was …

  And what did you do, Talbot? You laid her down on her back on her bed and kissed her … and her kiss took over your damn body and … and … made you forget. His good sense, he told himself, was all balled up. He could see the chance of a life, with her, but he kept shutting her out, and now …? Now he had thrown her at the prince!

  A second chance was what he needed. Would memories get in the way? He told himself that his bride was gone. Would she stand between them? No … She would tell him to live. She would tell him to be happy. The question was could he let this Maxie girl slip through his hands? Could he watch someone else claim her?

  Oddly enough he had not felt any guilt when he returned Mary Newton’s flirtation. In fact, the man in him felt good. Again that bloody voice yelled, Because it didn’t mean anything. Simple. And now, now he had made a mess of things.

  He had imagined that he could forget this Maxie by having a little ‘fun’ with Mary Newton. Mary had invited him to do so in every way a woman could. Physical relief would be welcome … and then his damn heart got in the way.

  He had watched Maxie, and knew—all at once he knew he would lose her forever. She would walk away from him and never look back. She got a look in her green eyes that had been a light fading, and it stopped Julian Talbot in his tracks. He nearly choked as she reached out for the prince’s arm to steady herself. He saw the prince kiss her hand as though no other female in the world mattered, and Julian knew that it should have been him kissing her hand, showing her that she was the one and the only.

  He heard a low growl start in his throat—anger at himself when he witnessed the blatant hurt in her shining green eyes. He watched her reach out and touch the prince’s arm as though to steady herself. He watched the prince hug her to him. Julian watched Mary flirt with the prince, who gave her a cold, disinterested eye. Julian saw Maxie take it all in.

  He calls her Lia. Julian had often heard him softly whisper to her in a way that would have seduced most young women on the spot. Yet, she resisted. Why? Perhaps now she would no longer resist. Had he ruined his chances with Maxie? He suddenly discovered that he wanted a chance with Maxie!

  The prince offered her what women prized above all things, faithfulness, and she resisted. He offered her a life of pampering and riches beyond compare, and she resisted. He offered her the Isle of Tir where she would stay young for a very, very long time, and she resisted. She was like no other. In the beginning Julian had looked for his bride in her eyes, but she wasn’t there. This one, this precious Maxine Reigate, had breathed, walked, talked, jumped, played laughed, and sung her way into his heart.

  Fool—what have I done? I called the Newton girl Mary—flirted with her and then invited her to dinner. Bloody Hell! I am a lunatic!

  Mary had left for Inverness, saying she wanted to do some shopping. Julian, no longer interested in a brief encounter, fe
lt himself spared. However, Maxie had gone off with the prince …

  He knew that the worst thing he had done was to call the Newton woman by her first name. He had seen the shock take over Maxie’s pretty features. He zeroed in on the thought that she had just saved his life without care to her own, and he—he treated her like a stranger.

  He was sure that if ever he had a chance to win Maxie’s heart for his own, it was lost—all lost in that moment. It was as though her green eyes spelled out good-bye.

  He had already searched the castle twice to one conclusion: Maxie and the prince were gone. Shit! What have I done? I have thrown her at him. It is my fault.

  He quickly went into action to repair whatever damage he could. He called Mary Newton and cancelled dinner, telling her he was off on business. He then bumped into Kennet, who advised him that he would not be home for dinner as he was taking Tally out on a date. He had been mildly amused to see the man blush to say the words and suddenly realized that he too wanted to go out on a date … and he wanted that date to be with Maxie. She was all he dreamt about.

  Restless, he got up, donned his jacket, and went outdoors for a walk. Maxie-girl—just where are you—what are you doing? He was beginning to think he should give in and use his magic to track her whereabouts. As the hours ticked by, he was sure of it … he needed to use some of his magic. He probed and got nothing. He did it again—nothing.

  Well, damn it to hell—where could she be? Just where the bloody hell could she be? Wherever she and the prince were—she was out of his range. Out of his range could only mean one thing: Breslyn had taken her to the Isle of Tir.

  Had the prince taken her there against her will? No—he knew enough of the prince to know better. If she was in Faery, it was willingly. He was going mad. Hell and brimstone! She was there with him. No. She always let someone know when she was off anywhere. She was thoughtful like that. Damnation! Where the hell are you, Max?

  And then something made him think of DuLaine. No—DuLaine couldn’t have gotten to Max with the prince guarding her, could she? Without thinking he went into deep probe—this time searching out DuLaine.