The Emerald Isle Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vincent, Renee

  “It’s all right,” he comforted, still cupping her cheek. “I want to. I want to try this again. Will you let me?”

  If not for the fact that he forewarned her about a kiss, she would have been freaking out about another ill-timed blackout. Secretly, she was grateful for the diversion, and with Leif as close as he was, asking for permission, there was no way she’d deny him.

  “You’ve not answered me, Rain.”

  ****

  “You have not answered me, princess,” Dægan teased, wrenching me closer to tuck his head in the crevice of my jaw.

  “H-how can I answer you?” I shuddered in response, feeling the slight tickle and warmth of his breath as he audaciously smelled the oils upon my skin.

  “Just open your mouth and speak.”

  Before I could even utter one word of resistance, he skimmed his lips over my chin and softly covered mine. I couldn’t move for it was the first kiss I had ever experienced in all my nineteen years, as well as the most pleasant of gestures received. My thoughts whirled around me so quickly. I felt the warm softness of his mouth, the heat that radiated from his skin, and the red-blooded strength of his arms holding me tightly to his chest as the world around me ceased to exist.

  My eyes rolled back and I fell limp in his arms, finding myself welcoming the gentle caresses of his tongue parting my mouth. He went deeper, tasting me, but never rough or demanding, just easing his tongue in as much as I would allow. He played with me, pulling away tenderly, then delving back in, taking every sweetened gasp from me like a thief.

  I was very responsive to his touch and he continued to kiss me intensely, letting my virgin tongue dare to return his kiss as well. He moaned softly in my mouth, a noise hardly to be heard, but it was enough to make me open my eyes and find his swirling in drunken lustfulness.

  His unashamed forwardness sent me fleeing, but his embrace enveloped me with a passion I had never felt before. There was a strange heat that burned low in my stomach and a cool rush of shivers from the top of my neck down my spine, his kiss feeding both of those glorious feelings at once.

  I stared at him, barely being able to breathe as he dwelled near my lips. He was a mountain of strength and an endless vision of beauty; two things that both scared me and kept me leeching for more. I was trapped in his eyes, caught in the very clutches of his hungry stare, and given the circumstances, it was hard to know if it was the pull of sheer attraction that held me motionless, or just blinding fear.

  ****

  “Are you all right?” Leif asked as he breathed against her lips, moistened with his mouth. “You look frightened.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lorraine blinked repeatedly. The momentous scene dissipated before her eyes. “I’m…I’m fine,” she lied.

  Leif smiled and leaned in close, a spent man savoring the moment. “I wish I could say the same. My heart is hammering in my chest.”

  Lorraine closed her eyes tight, trying to grasp it all. Through another crazy vision, she seemed to have experienced her first kiss with her imaginary Viking lover, only the Norse warrior wasn’t Leif. Or was it?

  “Did we kiss?”

  Leif drew back his face.

  Of course we kissed! Lorraine backpedaled. “I mean, was this kiss better?” She swallowed hard, hoping she had remedied her question enough so she didn’t look like a complete idiot.

  Leif laughed and pulled her into his arms. “Don’t be silly, love. Both kisses were amazing. I know I may have pulled away the first time, but it was because an uncanny emotion came over me…as if I’ve kissed you many times before.” She heard him scoff. “We both know that’s impossible.”

  Clinging to the security of his warmth and burrowing within the solid protective wall of his embrace, she tried to pull together her discombobulated brain. As far as she could gather, she saw things from a previous life—her previous life.

  As a princess in love with a Viking warrior?

  The thought sounded completely absurd. Utterly illogical.

  “So, what’s your take on it?” she asked, hoping Leif would have a scientifically sound explanation for what had come over him. Maybe it would shed light on what came over her.

  “There’s only one explanation. We’re connected. In here.” He pressed his palm to her chest. “I felt its hold on me when I first saw you at Dún Aonghasa. You looked strangely familiar, almost smelled familiar. I swear I should’ve known you. After kissing you, I feel it stronger than ever—and I think you do too. Maybe I’m fundamentally deranged in saying all of this, but I’ve got a gut feeling about us, and I’m running with it. I’m running on many gut feelings lately and it’s proved to be—”

  He looked away, hiding something.

  Lorraine reached up to his face and pulled him back. “What? It’s proved to be what, Leif?”

  He peered into her eyes, hesitating. Fissures of cobalt and cerulean swarmed and twisted in his irises. His hands had a firm grip on both her arms and she could sense a slight vulnerability in his gaze as if he wanted to say more, but shouldn’t.

  All of a sudden, as if pulled from a deep train of thought, Leif glanced down at his hands. “You’re trembling. You must be cold,” he said, changing the subject. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

  ****

  Leif couldn’t believe how close he’d come to slipping. He almost told her about the impulsive intuition that led him to dig and find the chest. The chest that he swore he’d never tell a soul about. The chest that he made his brother swear on in secrecy. But there was something about Lorraine that made him want to tell her everything, to divulge every little secret he ever had. He trusted her that much.

  Being in her company also did unusual things to his libido. He was normally a man of control, a man who was not easily aroused or tempted. With Lorraine, he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of her. In the long six mile trek back to his cottage, he had all kinds of time to admire her, but could do nothing about it since they were confined to a saddle.

  It was torturous to have felt Lorraine’s kiss and not the bounty of pleasures that come with the flesh. Right now, as his hips rocked rhythmically with the gate of his horse, all he could think of was how similar this movement was to having sex.

  It had been months since he’d felt the caress of a woman, the softness of a feminine body beneath him. After sampling the sweetness of Lorraine’s mouth, there was nothing on his mind but stripping her bare and ravishing her.

  He tightened his grip on the reins, inwardly talking himself down. Ravishing her was out of the question. They weren’t at the point in their relationship where anything remotely close to ravishing was appropriate.

  Taking in a deep breath, he looked up into the near-midnight sky. He tried to think of other things. Like how he could barely see the stars on account of the cloud cover. How he needed to shoe his horses again soon. How he could care less about either topics.

  It was useless.

  Lorraine was under his skin, imbedded in his soul, and bound to his heart like no other. Images of her dark auburn hair, draping down around his shoulders as she straddled him, taunted him no matter how hard he tried to block it out. He even had visions of her dainty body taking in his rock-hard erection, an inch at a time, playing about in his head—in every position imaginable.

  He groaned aloud before he realized he’d been heard.

  “Everything all right?”

  Leif cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, which gave him the perfect idea for fabricating an excuse. “Yeah, I think I might need a new saddle. This one isn’t as comfortable as it used to be.”

  Lorraine hung her head in guilt. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that it got ruined last night would it?”

  “Not at all,” he reassured. “This saddle used to be my grandfather’s before he gave it to my father, and so on. So, it’s bound to have lost its comfort by now.”

  “Aren’t saddles supposed to get better with age?”

  “To an
extent. But everything has a breaking point. Nothing lasts forever.”

  “Some things do.”

  There was a peculiar tone in her voice when she said that, and Leif couldn’t let it go by unnoticed. “Like what?”

  She regarded him curiously. “Like…love.”

  “Love…like the love you felt for Jack?” He was cruel to have asked her with such condescension, but he wanted to know.

  A few seconds of silence cut into their conversation. “What I felt for Jack wasn’t love.”

  She sounded convincing, but it hardly clarified anything. “So, let me get this straight. You were going to marry someone you didn’t love?”

  “I was going to marry someone I thought I loved. And I thought he loved me.”

  Leif was more careful about his choice of words. “Did he tell you he loved you?”

  “Many times,” she replied in shame. “I should’ve known it wasn’t sincere. Everyone else knew. I don’t know why I couldn’t see it.”

  “Perhaps, you didn’t want to see it.”

  Her eyes darkened. “I prefer to think I was blind.”

  Leif laughed. “We’re weaving through all kinds of clichés tonight, aren’t we? Love is forever, love is blind. Next, you’ll be telling me that love and hate are two horns on the same goat.”

  “You don’t believe in love?”

  He studied her, unable to tear his eyes from hers. “I believe in small blessings. Good fortune that happens to come our way or we’re fortunate enough to cross its path.”

  “You mean like fate?”

  “No, I mean like luck. If you happen to find love…or it happens to find you…”

  “So, all that talk about being connected was bullshit?”

  Leif sensed the bitterness in her tone. He wasn’t about to thwart the small blessing he’d been given by letting her twist his words. He trotted up close to her, stole her reins, and halted their horses. “I meant what I said about having a connection with you. It’s there, I know it’s there, but I can’t give you a rational explanation for it. Like I said at the fort, I’m running on gut instinct here. Nothing more. So, if you wish to call my gut instinct fate or destiny or even doom for that matter, so be it. But know this…I don’t need a technical term to say I’ve met the woman I’ve always wanted.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lorraine had no idea what time it was. They’d finally made it back to Leif’s barn before the rain came down in sheets, sparing the leather and saddle pads from a watery demise. She’d ridden enough times with Patrick to know that waterlogged blankets, infused with horse sweat, did not emit a pleasant smell.

  As they removed the tack from each of the horses, the rhythm of rain outside did little to drown out the sound of her thumping heart. Although Leif was in the next stall, she could feel a sense of heavy unrest between them. Because of the surprising nature of Leif’s last comment, the subject had been left to hang. She hadn’t the ability to process it all. Within a few spoken words, he had sent her world into a virtual tailspin. I don’t need a technical term to say I’ve met the woman I’ve always wanted.

  Did he really mean that? How could he decide something so definite after only knowing her for a little over twenty-four hours?

  She didn’t have to pose those questions to know he’d probably counter with the same, ever-familiar “gut feeling” excuse. While that may be enough for Leif, it wasn’t enough for her. If she truly was the woman he always wanted, she expected more than just a hunch. She deserved it.

  On the other hand, she adored Leif’s spontaneity, his blunt openness, and his bold charm. He was calm and collected one moment, and then raging with passion the next. Fire and ice.

  The thought of acting upon Leif’s words had her on pins and needles. All her life, she had been waiting for someone like him; someone who was assertive enough to show her what she needed in life and strong enough to provide them for her. But was getting seriously involved with a relative stranger something she should be plunging into right now?

  Though she hated to admit it, it had been less than a week since she’d dumped her fiancé. Leif was worth so much more to her than a rebound guy. He deserved more from her than just spontaneous therapeutic ‘help-me-recover-from-the ex’ sex.

  She carried the heavy saddle into the tack room and placed it on the home-made wooden rack, purposefully avoiding Leif’s gaze. Despite her desire to be near him, she knew she’d be better off parting ways—at least for the night.

  She needed time to think. She needed a breather from him so she could make certain her head was screwed on tight. As difficult as separating from him sounded, she knew it was the right thing to do.

  After draping the damp saddle pad upside down on top of the saddle, she turned to fetch the bridle and reins she left hanging over the stall gate. Just as she exited the tack room, Leif was entering and they collided.

  He smiled. “In a hurry to go somewhere?”

  Backing up, she collected her thoughts. “Yeah, I should go. To my B&B, I mean.” A nervous laugh staggered out. “I haven’t even slept in the bed I’ve paid for.”

  He stepped forward, blocking her only means of escape. “Whether you sleep there or not, it’s the same price.”

  “I know, but I need a shower and—”

  “I’ve got a shower.” He took another step toward her until he had her backed against the barn wall. He braced his arm above her head and leaned casually on one hip. “A shower large enough for two.”

  Tilting her head to look him in the eye, she gave him no argument. His shower was big enough for two bodies—two soapy, naked, entangled bodies beneath a showerhead of steaming hot water. “But I don’t have any clean clothes.”

  “Seriously? That’s what you’re going with?”

  She took in a huge gulp of air, feeling like the oxygen around her was all but depleted. “Yes, I am. I need clean clothes—my own clothes,” she amended before he could offer, “and a good night’s sleep.”

  He cupped her cheek and wet his lips with his tongue before speaking. “If you stay with me tonight, you’ll get everything you want…that shower you needed, a comfortable bed, and a good night’s sleep. You just have to cut your losses with the change of clothes, ‘cause for what I have planned, you won’t need them anyway.”

  Leif lifted her chin with a hooked finger and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. The heat in his eyes and his touch was more than she could bear. He was well-skilled in the ways of charm and temptation, knowing just how much to dangle in front of her. It was useless to fight him.

  “Stay with me, Rain,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”

  His lips touched hers. The smell of him tempted her to give in. The taste of him suppressed any shred of will power she had for rejecting his plea. And the feel of his hand snaking around her waist and cupping her bottom until she was pressed firmly against him sealed the deal. All hope of resisting him vanished.

  She could no longer restrain her hands as they slid up his muscle-bound chest and around the back of his neck, interlocking behind his head. As if a burdensome barrier had been lifted, their feral hunger for each other finally sprang loose. In a no-holds-barred kiss of ragged breaths, stuttering hearts, and searching hands, Lorraine tasted the fruits of a deep-seated love. She was completely virgin to the feel of Leif’s foreplay, her body trembling beneath the pleasures of his hands, yet so attuned to his touch that she could almost predict his next move.

  In a sudden heave, he lifted her and compressed her against the wall, wrapping her legs around his back. She was so lost in the feel of his hardened body crushing her that the jagged wood of the barn hardly fazed her.

  “I should stop,” he said, breathless. “I’m probably hurting you.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I bet the skin on your back begs to differ.”

  Lorraine closed her eyes, feeling the first tinge of pain between her shoulder blades. “Okay, maybe you’re right.”

  Leif smiled. “I don�
�t want to do this here anyway. Still up for that shower?”

  Knowing they’d have to sprint through one cold shower to get to the hot one, she fast forwarded to the moment they’d burst into his home and make haste toward getting out of their wet clothes. She imagined Leif removing his shirt and revealing a gorgeous sight of broad shoulders, bare chest, and sculpted abs. “I’m up for it.”

  Leif pushed away from the wall and hugged her body close, preparing to jet across the field through the onslaught of rain. “You say that now…”

  ****

  “I warned you the rain would be cold.” Leif barreled through the front entrance with Lorraine’s face buried in his neck.

  With his foot, he closed the door behind them and flipped on the light.

  “Was it that cold the other night when you trotted across the island with me?”

  He set her to her feet and began unbuttoning his shirt and kicking off his shoes, his eyes fixed on her. “I don’t mind the temperature of the rain. You forget, I’m from Norway. The water’s always ice cold there. It’s the feel of drenched fabric clinging to my body I despise.”

  There was a mischievous tone in his voice and a wicked sparkle in his eyes as he ushered her backwards, through the living room and down the hall. She glanced at the hint of bare skin peaking through his shirt as he made short work of the last few buttons. Her instincts told her to turn and run, avoid him at all costs, but she ignored them. The alluring strip of rippling skin was too tempting to resist.

  In a flash, he peeled the shirt away and chucked it over his shoulder. His brawny physique sprouting out of his snug-in-all-the-right-places jeans was better than she ever imagined. His chest was tan with hardly a dusting of hair, except for the spellbinding strip of dark blond curls at his navel that ran beyond the obscurity of his waistband. Male perfection if she’d ever seen it.

  He grabbed her wrist and placed her hand on his chest, while he pulled her close. “Don’t tell me you’re backpedaling on that shower.”

  She wanted to laugh. With the feel of his smooth naked skin and bulging muscles beneath her palm, she’d be crazy to back out now. “No.”