A shudder worked its way down Dáire’s spine, and he folded his arms across his chest. What he’d give right now for a smoke to take the edge off. A bit of nicotine to make what he must do easier to accept.
With a heavy sigh, he turned to face her. “Last night, I saw someone out here, Reese. Off in the woods close to my family’s cabin. I don’t want to take the chance he’s still around.”
For an instant, Reese’s eyes widened. But in the next, she gave the quilt she’d been bundled in earlier a shake and tossed it across the bed. If it weren’t for the way she chewed on her lower lip—a habit he’d long ago learned she fell into when something weighed on her mind—he’d have sworn she didn’t hear him, given her silence.
****
Spend the night with Dáire.
Reese’s pulse leapt into rapid syncopation. It took all of her focus to keep her hands from trembling as she took her time in straightening her blanket. She shouldn’t. She shouldn’t even entertain the idea. But, oh! She could still feel the light fall of his breath against her lips. Taste the unrelenting pull of want.
She snuck a glance at him from the corner of her eyes, and her stomach fluttered. Long auburn hair danced across powerful shoulders. His serene expression made the intricate tattoos across his cheekbones even more alluring. And those eyes…those incredible eyes watched her so intently she questioned whether he could hear the war inside her head.
How could she say no? Especially if he was concerned for her safety.
Swallowing, Reese accepted she couldn’t turn him away, even if he tempted her mind into erotic fantasy. She forced out a soft laugh. “So where are you sleeping?”
With no more wrinkles to smooth out of the quilt, she had no choice but to face him. When she did, that damnable wry smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You know I’m not a gentleman. I’m not sleeping on the hard, dirty floor, and there’s one bed.” He gave her a playful wink and in one fluid move, yanked his heavy shirt over his head. “You’ll have to keep your hands to yourself.”
Every last ounce of rational thought lodged in the back of her throat as she absorbed his words and stared at lean, hard muscle. Dáire could fill out a suit like he’d been born in them when he wanted. He made a pair of plain jeans seem sinful. But in all the time she’d known him, she’d never once seen him even remotely unclothed.
Now, she stared at a picture of masculine perfection that her imagination hadn’t begun to do justice. The firelight bronzed his skin, casting shadows over planes of strength that didn’t need emphasis. In contrast to his reddish hair, no freckle marred his smooth chest. God in heaven—keeping her hands to herself would never be more difficult.
“Reese, you’re staring.” Soft laughter rumbled over the fire.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut to break the embarrassing spell. “Ah…”
Undaunted, Dáire didn’t miss a beat. “Pick your spot.”
“Huh?” A frown settled into her brow. She opened her eyes to find him gesturing at the bed with an outstretched hand.
“The bed—which side do you sleep on?”
“Oh. Left.” Scurrying around the footboard, she did her best to avoid the danger of close contact.
“That might be a problem.” Laughter danced in his eyes as he crossed to the opposite side of the bed and pulled back the quilt.
“Why?” Reese eyed the bed warily. Two steps more, and she’d be mere seconds away from climbing into bed with the man she’d wanted to do more than sleep with for entirely too long. Torture. She’d never make it through the night.
“That’s my side too.” Strong fingers dipped to the waist of his jeans, and Reese’s eyes went wide. Shirtless she could handle. If he stripped out of those jeans, however…
Her breath rushed out in one relieved burst, when he merely undid the brass button at his waist and set a knee on the bed.
“Guess I’ll meet you in the middle.” Still grinning at her, he stretched out on his side and propped his head in one hand. “Would you stop standing there like a scared rabbit? It’s me. You know. Dáire McClaine. Friend of yours for, oh, let’s see, five years now.”
His teasing snapped through her nervous haze. Shooting him a falsely perturbed look, she grabbed the corner of her pillow and smacked him with it. “Stop it, would you? This is awkward enough.” She climbed into the bed and sat up, taking a moment to arrange the covers.
Hearty laughter erupted, telling her he’d deliberately tried to unsettle her. He rolled onto his back, folded his arms behind his head, and lay there chuckling while she sifted through the numerous insults she could return.
She finally settled on a half-serious, “You can be such a jerk.”
He turned his head to look down the angular line of his nose, his smile wide and genuine. “You’re so easy to rattle. I bet Tom never teased you to the point of speechlessness.”
No, no he hadn’t. Tom had been as blind to her as he was to every facet of life outside of his scope of political wiles. They had never played; when she’d tried, he scolded her for being childish. In fact, as she’d come to realize several months earlier when he’d proposed, Tom and she rarely spoke at all when they were alone together. It hit her that evening on the veranda at the Country Club, with Tom opening a ring box he’d set atop her dessert plate—he didn’t want her. Only the façade of what she was to him.
“Did he ever tell you he proposed?” She shifted position to better see Dáire’s expression.
“Really? He didn’t say a word.”
Reese didn’t know why she’d asked. Tom wouldn’t have told anyone she’d turned him down. “I told him I wasn’t ready.”
A strange touch of gentleness softened Dáire’s features. He reached across his body to brush a lock of her hair off her shoulder. “Get some sleep. You’ve got to be worn out.”
Despite the fact that solitary touch flicked through her limbs like a ripple of white-hot electricity, she couldn’t argue. Her limbs ached from the cold and the long walk in the woods. Her back had knotted hours ago, the way it always did when she spent too much time in Tom’s company. To make everything worse, subtle pressure was building behind her temples, indicating a headache loomed on the horizon if she didn’t close her eyes.
Nodding, Reese turned her back to Dáire and snuggled into the bed. Maybe if she couldn’t see him, she could pretend less than a foot of space separated them.
Not highly likely given the way her skin prickled from his body heat.
But at least this way, she couldn’t focus on the movement of his lips and become sidetracked by the thought of how glorious it would be to feel his mouth settling over hers.
Chapter Four
Dáire watched the play of firelight against the rough-hewn timbers on the ceiling, his body attuned to each shift, each soft sigh Reese made. What he must do broke the laws of the ancients—magical gifts could not be used for one’s own means. He could justify that influencing her thoughts would counter Drandar all he desired. But Drandar and his vile darkness existed for a reason, and the blunt truth remained: there was no balance achieved or upheld in manipulating Reese’s mind.
And yet, Dáire craved mortality more than the rest of his siblings combined. Since his sister Rhiannon’s transition, the days became more difficult. The nights like this, when the sabots neared and nature thrummed with power, became near impossible to confront. His dark blood craved satisfaction. The lighter half of his soul screamed for temperance.
Reese snuggled deeper into her pillow, the rise and fall of her breath slowing as she drifted on the edge of slumber. Dáire’s pulse faltered as the quilt shifted with her, scraping across his over-sensitized nerves. Though he had loosened his jeans, it did little against the swelling of his cock, which increased every time she moved and he caught the faint scent of her earthy perfume.
Amber. Rich and smooth like the stone itself, the scent pulled him in.
All the more reason to let things play as they would an
d leave the surrendering of the scroll to Reese’s conscious actions. He didn’t dare risk that he might influence her emotions, and no matter how he ached to touch her, he would not coerce her into a frivolous intimate encounter. Which was exactly what this would be, if they had sex. Until he was mortal, he couldn’t tempt his heart.
He took a deep breath and focused on the deep grain in the overhead timbers as he exhaled. No sex. The scroll. He had to possess the scroll before Taran somehow discovered it. If his brother did, he would hand it over to Drandar and the progress they’d made in destroying him, would be for naught.
The siblings who sacrificed immortality would forever be subjugated to Drandar’s vengeance.
Dáire would never escape the torment of experiencing his near-twin’s contentment with mortality. She would die in time. He would live on without her.
He would never be free from the curse.
His gaze slanted sideways to Reese and latched on the delicate curve of her neck and shoulder. If he opened to her and created a link, instead of simply issuing mental orders, she would never know he’d convinced her into doing something other than she intended with the scroll. She would believe it was her own idea.
Slowly, he reached out to her with his mind. He must be careful; she couldn’t sense him again. Not this time.
Tendrils of her light, feminine essence prickled at his awareness. Subdued by the promise of sleep, her strong spirit slid against his, letting him ease past barriers. He held his breath. Closed his eyes.
The link snapped into place like the slamming of a door. Startling and forceful enough to punch the air from Dáire’s lungs. His eyes opened wide as Reese’s subconscious merged with his.
He couldn’t hear her thoughts, but what he sensed, nearly brought him upright in the bed. Awareness.
Of him.
On a level that went far beyond sensing him inside her head and flooded him with the sharp yearning of desire.
Ancestors above, her mind knotted as she fought to remain on the edge of the mattress, denying herself the ability to roll over into him. To touch his bare skin. To meld her body against his and satisfy the deeper ache within her womb.
Dáire’s heart stumbled into his ribs. When it finally recovered, one swift kick swelled his half-mast erection to full capacity. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop a groan from escaping. He’d teased her, witnessed the flicker of attraction in her eyes, and knew he’d worked his way under her skin. But this?
This was enough to chain a man into eternal submission.
He should pull back. Disengage with her subconscious before he couldn’t.
Instead, he twisted onto his side and fitted his hand over the curve of her hip. “Reese.”
****
Subtle pressure from Dáire’s fingertips urged Reese to roll onto her back. The old bed creaked as she turned, the sound jangling her nerves. She knew, even before she looked up into crystalline blue eyes, that Dáire hadn’t roused her because he wanted conversation. Tension weighed on her like heavy stones, making it difficult to draw a level breath.
Dáire’s intensely serious gaze blistered into her. He skated his large palm from her hip to the base of her ribs, then lifted it to push a stray lock of hair away from her face. His fingers slipped behind her neck, cupping her face, once again stroking her cheek and rousing her nerve endings until every particle of her awareness honed in on the gentle sweep of his roughened thumb.
Like he’d somehow wrapped her in a spell she couldn’t break. Not that she wanted to disrupt the magic. Still, Reese couldn’t move. He held her captive, her breath quickening as she read the meaning in his quiet stare.
Dáire’s long eyelashes veiled his eyes as his mouth slowly descended. His lips brushed hers. The faint prick of stubble added another surprising layer of excitement, and Reese gasped. With the parting of her lips, Dáire captured her lower lip between his teeth and gently tugged her into complete submission. Her hands lifted to his shoulders, her fingers curled into thick muscle, and she surrendered to the fantasy that had plagued her for so long. She met the bold foray of his tongue, reveled in the warm velvet heat of his kiss
Her unhesitant participation in the kiss prompted an even more startling reaction from Dáire. He gave a surprised grunt, and the pressure at the back of her neck where his fingers pressed into her skin increased. Though his kiss remained controlled, behind his measured strokes she felt his restraint. As if he was holding back. Chaining something that she caught only the merest taste of when his teeth pricked her upper lip.
That undercurrent of barely controlled desire shot thrills to the balls of her feet. And it awakened passion inside Reese that had been dormant for so many years she’d forgotten what it was like to completely lose herself in the magic of a moment. That she couldn’t recall how it felt to be breathless and wanting, on the edge of something delightfully terrifying.
Until now. Until Dáire reminded her how stale and dead she’d become with Tom.
Slipping her knee between his thighs, she moved into the intoxicating warmth of his body. At the same time, Dáire moved over her, his weight pressing her into the mattress as his hips crept over hers. Through the heavy denim of his jeans, she felt the hard ridge of his erection and slid her hands down the length of his strong back to the base of his spine. A press of her fingertips urged him closer. Ever so slightly, his hips arched forward to stroke her feminine center.
Bliss streaked through Reese. She drew in a deep breath through flared nostrils and curled her nails into the tight muscles beneath his warm skin. This was happening. Dáire was real, the feel of him even more incredible than her imagination.
His mouth left hers, giving her a much-needed opportunity to breathe as he scattered kisses along the line of her jaw to the base of her ear. His moist breath tickled her skin a nanosecond before the tip of his tongue swirled over the hollow there. Before she could recover from the pleasant shock, Dáire’s hand slid from the nape of her neck to her breast. He gathered the soft flesh in his palm and gently squeezed, hitting her with another flash of wild pleasure.
“Dáire,” she whispered as she turned her head in search of his mouth once more. His thumb stroked her tightened nipple through her heavy sweater, and she arched into his hand with a quiet cry of ecstasy.
Then his hand stilled. His lips merely fluttered against the side of her neck before he lifted his head to stare into her eyes. Darkened with desire, his blue eyes shone indigo in the dim firelight. The hard fall of his breath matched hers. The fierce beat of his heart showed in the bounding vein against the side of his neck.
His gaze dipped to her parted lips, and just as she began to believe he would give her what she craved and kiss her once more, he slipped his arms around her waist and rolled onto his side, gathering her into his embrace. One hand fastened at the crown of her head, pushing her cheek into his shoulder.
“You should sleep. It’s late,” he whispered unsteadily.
Sleep? After that? He had to be out of his mind.
****
Dáire stared at the dwindling fire, stunned to the very core of his being. His heart was racing like he’d just run a marathon. His hands shook unsteadily, though with them pressed against Reese he could only dimly feel the disturbing tremor. Where in the vast heavens had that come from? He’d only meant to kiss her. Only intended to sample that delectable mouth and satisfy five years of curiosity.
He certainly hadn’t intended to find himself swept away on a typhoon of wild desire, seconds away from tugging Reese’s jeans down her hips and sating his aching cock.
If she hadn’t cried out and broken through the haze of passion, he had no doubts she would be naked and her smooth skin gliding against his.
In centuries of existence, he’d enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh countless times. Not once could he recall a time when he’d lost all sense of reason, of time and place, and become so completely ensnared by a kiss.
Reese’s fingertips glided down the leng
th of his back. The gentle caress served to soothe him somewhat, and he eased his hold on her head. She turned her cheek, dusted her lips against his neck, and let out a soft sigh that contented him even more.
But he couldn’t linger in her embrace without returning to that place of passion that frankly disturbed him. He had no business becoming caught up in Reese. Beyond the curse, beyond the obvious risk of what might happen if she managed to tap into his heart, there was the matter of Tom.
Tom who would run their names through the mud just to protect his fabricated reputation. While Dáire didn’t particularly give a damn what Tom said about him, he absolutely couldn’t bear the thought of Reese suffering slander because they’d given in to the sexual undercurrent that had always lingered between them.
Disentangling himself from her arms, he eased from the bed and went to stoke the fire. The link he shared with her subconscious dimmed, telling him that she was losing her battle with sleep. He’d work on that enormous task of acquiring the scroll tomorrow. Right now, he needed to stay as far away from Reese as these four walls would let him until he could manage to convince other, more insolent parts of his body, that sex with Reese was a very bad idea.
He was also in desperate need of a smoke. Even that he couldn’t resolve. The crumpled pack on the table was empty.
Chapter Five
A blue-jay’s shrill cry broke through Reese’s dreams, shattering the splendid way her breast fit perfectly into Dáire’s palm and the utter rightness of the feel of his body pressing into hers. She fought wakefulness, longing to stay in the warmth of his enveloping presence. He wanted her. She wanted him. Here, there were no complications.
But fighting accomplished nothing; her body recognized morning, despite her orders for it not to. She opened her eyes as regret pulled through her, only to realize the warmth that seeped into her skin wasn’t the product of mere dreams. Somehow, during the night, she’d gravitated toward Dáire. Now, she lay in the crook of his arm, his hand resting just beneath her ribs, with her head tucked comfortably atop his shoulder.
Fated for Sacrifice Page 3
