Colleen quailed at his apparent anger. “I told you I had to stop on the way home, and I…I…” Her eyes welled up with tears as her voice broke. Faolan immediately snatched the packages from her hands, dropped them onto the deacon’s bench next to the door and pulled her into his arms.
“I’m sorry, sweetling. I was afraid for ye. Hush now,” he soothed, wiping her tears away with his thumb. “I shouldna raised my voice to ye. I’ve no right to do so.”
* * * *
Colleen gave him a shaky smile. “I’m only about ten minutes later than usual, but–” Her sentence was cut short by his soft lips making contact with hers, making her forget everything she was just talking about. Wow. She relaxed against him, surrendering to his expert touch. When the warm feeling started to stray a bit lower, she gave herself a stern albeit reluctant reminder of just how short they have been acquainted.
With a sudden jerk, she shoved against his broad chest. He released her with a puzzled frown. “Have I overstepped myself, lady?” he asked. “I merely…I’m very happy ye have come home to me.”
She gazed into those deep blue eyes and saw only sincerity looking back at her. “You were worried? About me? You were afraid I wasn’t coming back?” she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Faolan looked disconcerted for a moment before a sheepish smile spread over his handsome face. “Aye, lass, I guess I was. I needed rescuin’ a full score of times today from yer modern wonders.”
Her heart warmed by his concern, she gave him a sweet smile. “I’m not going to leave you, Faolan,” she assured him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “Now c’mon, dinner’s getting cold.”
He picked up both of the flat cardboard boxes and followed close behind her. Giving the apartment a quick, surreptitious glance on her way to the kitchen, she was relieved to see nothing broken or out of place. Without being asked, he poured two glasses of iced tea for them while she grabbed the plates and napkins. She smiled at his willingness to help and directed him to his chair while she opened the boxes holding their feast.
“Pizza with everything but onions and anchovies,” Colleen explained, piling several large slices on his plate. After taking only one bite, he jumped up and kissed her full on the lips in sheer delight. Without a word, he sat back and devoted his full attention to devouring every olive, mushroom, pepperoni disc and string of greasy cheese on his plate. Colleen laughed. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you like it,” she teased.
His cheeks bulging, all he could manage was a vigorous nod before grabbing for another piece.
After dinner, they sat side by side on the couch to enjoy their coffee. “So what did you do today?” Colleen asked.
“I watched television,” he said, motioning to it. “I watched…” he referred to the notes he had made at her request, his elegant handwriting crabbed and slanted, “…C-N-N. Yer world is a frightening place,” he said under his breath. When she nodded her agreement, he looked down at his notes again. “Then I saw…weather the whole world over. That was fascinating. It rained in Alba today. Guess some things doona change after all,” he chuckled. “And the…History Channel…is a marvel. So many new wonders in the world.” Faolan captured her hand and lifted it to his lips for a warm kiss. “I read through some of yer tomes, and ‘twould seem time travel is common now.” He gave her a curious smile, “but why is it only we Scots that are able to do so?”
Confusion furrowed Colleen’s brow. “What have you been reading, exactly?” she questioned.
He pointed to the row of dog eared paperback books on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. “The ones with the pictures of Highlanders on the covers, although I doona know many of the plaids.”
Colleen blinked then clapped a hand over her mouth as she collapsed in a fit of laughter. “Those are romances,” she gasped once she was able to catch her breath. “They’re novels. Just made up stories.” She sat up again and reached for her coffee, cradling the full mug in both hands to blow a cooling breath over the surface.
Faolan’s own brows knit together and he shook his head. “I doona understand, lady,” he asked, his voice quiet. “Is romance so lacking in yer world that ye’ve got to make it up, then?”
That was a sobering thought. “I guess,” Colleen said after a long silence, “love just ain’t what it used to be.” Before he could comment, she lifted her cup to her lips and spoke over it before taking a sip. “We need to figure out what to do with you.”
His face was a study in blankness. “What mean ye? Ye called me, I answered, although ye have yet to tell me what it was ye wished for,” he said lightly, trying to lure the answer out of her.
You’re so busted, her inner voice mocked. Go ahead, tell him you wished for your perfect man and poof, there he was. “I don’t remember exactly,” she lied, “but you can’t just stay with me. It’s not…” her voice trailed off without finishing her sentence.
“Ye would send me away? I am bound by the amulet, Princess. I will stay with ye. Perhaps ye can find some way in which I’ll be useful,” he insisted.
“It’s not as if you were my boyfriend or–”
“I know not that word. What does it mean?” Faolan interrupted.
“Boyfriend. You know, like we were a couple or…lovers,” Colleen said with a deepening blush. Danger, Will Robinson. Proceed with caution.
A short bark of laughter escaped his lips. “I am no boy and ye are a woman full grown,” he observed, “as I–and any other man who sees ye–canna help but notice by yer manner of dress. Perhaps if we–”
“I’m not looking to get involved in another relationship,” she snapped, “especially one that you’re being forced into. Remember the amulet? You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for that.” She took a long sip of her cooling coffee to buy her another moment or two to collect her thoughts. “Until we can figure out how send you back to where you came from, we’ve got to find something for you to do here. I guess you’re my new roommate.” He sat back on the couch and stared at her until she explained. “That means we’re just sharing living space.”
“I think,” Faolan said, taking the mug from her and setting it on the nearby end table, “ye doona value yerself highly enough. Amulet or no, there is something about ye that intrigues me.” Cupping her chin in his hand, he tilted his head from side to side to study her face. “I doona understand it. Ye live here alone day after day, filling yer nights with the lives and loves of make believe people, but asking none for yerself.” He ran his thumb over her lips and she fought the urge to kiss it as it brushed over. “There is passion in ye, Princess. I have tasted it.”
Colleen’s mouth formed a silent oh as his head dipped and his mouth claimed hers. He gathered her close, and to her amazement, she placed her own arms around his neck. He feathered soft kisses across her cheek and down her neck. She moaned softly in reply and reached up to stroke his hair, pulling it free from the leather thong holding it. He returned to her mouth and sucked sensually on her lower lip, then deepened the kiss until she heard bells ringing…
Faolan’s head shot up. “That’s yer talking device again,” he growled.
Colleen caught her breath and checked the caller ID. Museum. “It’s work, I should probably…”
“If ye must, lady. Just doona even think of moving,” he said, giving the sensitive spot just below her earlobe a playful nuzzle. She giggled and answered the phone.
“Colleen?” Marc’s voice asked. “You sound funny. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Aye,” Faolan grumbled into her neck.
Colleen waved for him to be quiet then took a deep breath to regain her composure. “What do you want, Marc?” she asked, her entire body tensing. “I’m very busy.” Faolan began to massage her back, his strong fingers kneading the tight muscles with smooth, gliding strokes. “Then just press pause and you can get back to your movie in a minute,” Marc snapped. “I found some of your old papers in my safe over the weekend, and I need to find out which ones you want.�
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“Just drop all of them by my office and I’ll go through them myself,” she gasped, struggling to breathe evenly while Faolan leaned close and traced the outer edge of her ear with the tip of his tongue. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
Marc ignored her dismissal. “So what are you doing home tonight? I would have thought you’d be out with your boyfriend,” he said, the smugness evident in his snarky tone. “Cut the shit, Colleen. You and I both know you don’t have–”
Colleen first gasped then giggled when Faolan’s big hands surrounded her waist and lifted her into his lap with little effort. “Marc, my personal life is so not your business,” she laughed when his long fingers tickled her sides.
“Aye, Marc, not yer business,” Faolan mimicked loud enough to be overheard.
There was a long silence before Marc finally spoke. “Who’s there with you?” he demanded.
The heavens opened and the Hallelujah Chorus came blazed through in a fanfare of angelic glory. “It’s Faolan…my boyfriend,” Colleen said, her smile lighting up the room. “And we’re busy. Good night, Marc.”
“Good night, Marc,” Faolan echoed with a chuckle.
She pressed end on the cell then threw her arms around Faolan’s neck in a grateful hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Faolan smiled into her hair. “Guess that means yer keeping me, then.”
Colleen had hundreds of questions about Faolan’s life and spent the remainder of the evening asking them. He had many questions too, so in the spirit of fairness they took turns. By midnight, both sets of eyelids were struggling to stay open and Colleen gave him a sweet goodnight kiss on the cheek before heading off to bed.
She slipped into another new gown, enjoying the feel of the expensive silk slithering over her skin. Locking the door behind her, she eased into bed, trying hard to ignore the ominous rumble of thunder in the distance. I hope I’m asleep before it gets here, she yawned. To distract herself from the impending storm, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine the look on Marc’s face when he heard Faolan’s deep voice. Bet he never saw that one coming. She smiled, drifting off to sleep before she could indulge in any more delightful fantasies.
It was an hour or two later when a large rumble of thunder jolted her awake, but oddly enough she didn’t feel afraid like she normally did during the fierce Florida storms. Fat raindrops pelted against the window in a soothing staccato, the wide bed was soft, and she felt so warm and safe with Faolan’s muscular arm holding her tightly against his bare chest…Colleen drew in a deep breath and screamed.
5
Colleen’s scream jolted Faolan into immediate awareness. He threw himself on top of her to shield her from the imminent and certain danger. Head whipping from side to side, he scanned the dark room for the threat while Colleen thrashed beneath him, howling with righteous indignation. When it became apparent there was neither threat nor danger, he glared down at her. “Yer going to have to not do that, Princess,” Faolan chided, sliding over and falling back onto the pillow with an aggrieved grunt.
“What the hell are you doing in my bed?” Colleen shrieked, drawing the covers up to her neck like someone’s maiden aunt, desperately hoping he was buying her I’m-so-completely-outraged act and trying not to think about what he was–or wasn’t– wearing underneath the sheet. She was glad the room was dark so he couldn’t see the flush of excitement on her face.
“Ye cried out in yer sleep and I came to see to ye,” he explained matter of factly, brushing his fingertips across her cheek. “Ye were frightened, so I gave ye comfort.”
“By getting in bed with me?” she asked.
“Aye. Were I trying to seduce ye, lady, we’d be naked by now,” he said with a wide grin, his white teeth flashing in the darkened room. “But if ye’ll notice, we’re still in possession of our clothing. Although now that ye mention it, the idea of seducing ye holds great merit….” His hand slipped under the comforter and caressed the silky fabric draping the curve of her waist.
“Now hold on just a damn minute. I didn’t–”
“Is this not what boyfriends do, Colleen? They protect and comfort their…girlfriend?” Faolan asked innocently. She could just hear the triumph ringing in his voice.
“You’re…that’s not….but you…” she sputtered.
“Whisht, lass,” he said, his voice tired. “’Tis late. Yer weary, as am I. Turn around now and be still.” With a gentle push he rolled her to her side, facing away from him and curved his big body around hers, anchoring her firmly to his chest again. “Let me keep ye safe this night.”
Another loud clap of thunder shook the building. She gave a heavy sigh even as she snuggled in next to him. “I’m going to argue with you in the morning about this,” she yawned. “I may even use bad language.”
Faolan chuckled. “Then I’ll have that to look forward to,” he said. He began singing softly, his lips close to her ear, his voice low and lyrical. The unfamiliar words were hypnotic, and within minutes she found herself struggling to stay awake, finally succumbing to a deep, restful sleep.
* * * *
Faolan lay awake long after he was certain she was asleep, adrift in a turbulent sea of thought. After the anger at losing his wife and children was assuaged by the dark years of wandering and war, he had thrown himself back into the studies his mother encouraged in his youth. The years spent studying with the Irish Druids proved most useful. The sleeping draíocht was only one of over two score spells he was still proficient at. The song worked particularly well with overtired bairns and he had a vague memory of walking the floor with a fretful one, singing quietly to get the babe to sleep. He sighed. Took many had passed to remember whose child or what lifetime they had shared.
The original plan had been to slip into her room after she retired and coax her into a bit of sleepy dalliance, mayhap more if she proved willing. He passed the time reading, waiting to be certain she was asleep before he made his move when he heard her cry out. He was up and racing toward her room within the space of a heartbeat, the door swinging open for him before he reached it. Skidding to a stop to assess the situation, he realized after a moment that ‘twas only the storm that plagued her. Standing as a silent sentry by her bed, he watched her shake and quiver, curled up in a ball like a frightened bairn to escape the loud tempest outside the window.
All plans for seduction fled as his first reaction was to comfort, not caress her. He started at his sudden attack of tenderness, knowing her comfort wouldn’t further his cause. He deliberated briefly then putting aside his own agenda for the moment eased carefully into the bed beside her and gathered her into his arms. Like a skittish mare she gentled beneath his hands almost immediately and mayhap would have slept through the night had the thunder not awakened her. Her allowing him into her bed was a good enough beginning, he reasoned. He dropped a soft kiss on the crown of her head, making a concerted effort not to think about how good and right her body felt next to his. Tomorrow’s soon enough to start, Princess, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. Tonight we’ll take our rest together, and I’ll pretend things were different between us.
* * * *
The following morning, Colleen was first to stir. She gaped at the large man sprawled asleep on his back, his steel banded arm holding her protectively to his side. In slow, measured movements she eased over inch by inch. When she realized she hadn’t woken him, she seized the opportunity to take a good look at her bedmate, covered up to his shoulders by the voluminous comforter. “Jaysus, Mary and Holy Saint Joseph. Now there’s a right winning lad” was what Moire O’Brien would have said. Although in her nineties when she died, her feisty grandmother had still appreciated a fine looking man when she saw one.
Upon further inspection, Colleen admitted those few words said it all. His face was smooth with just the hint of laugh lines creasing the corners of his mouth and eyes. The stubborn jaw was covered by a light dusting of blue black stubble, his skin tanned golden from repeated exposure to sun a
nd wind. Long ebony hair tangled around his face in sensual disarray. The aristocratic nose hinted of noble ancestry, and soft, full lips curved into a gentle smile as he slept. She resisted the urge to run her fingertips down his muscled neck and across his collarbone. It’s just wrong the man had eyelashes like that, she thought in pure envy of the thick lashes sweeping his cheeks. Even as that thought filtered through, those heavy fringed eyes fluttered opened to catch her appraising him.
“Good morrow, Beauty,” he said, pulling her back over to him in a sleep warmed embrace. “’Tis happy I am to see ye weathered the storm.”
Despite her adamant declaration the night before she allowed herself to be enfolded in his arms, wanting to curl up and purr like a kitten over the amount of delicious heat he was generating. Her leg rubbed against him and she was both relived and disappointed to feel the silk of his pajama bottoms covering his thigh, answering her previously unspoken question. “I’m going to make the coffee, and then we’re going to have the personal space talk.” She raised her head and sniffed. “Did you already make it? How did you…”
Faolan gave her an easy smile and shrugged. “I watched ye then duplicated yer movements. ‘Twas easy enough.”
Colleen snorted, her common sense once again rearing its ugly head. She disentangled herself from his arms and scooted off the bed. “I’m going to take my shower,” she announced, slipping into her robe and pulling it tight around her. She turned an irritated glare back at Faolan. “And you.” She stabbed her finger at his chest, “need to vacate my bed. Now.”
“As ye wish,” he smiled. He slowly pulled himself to a sitting position, the comforter sliding down his chest to pool at his waist. With a slow rumbling groan of sheer pleasure, Faolan stretched like a big black and gold cat. “Would milady require assistance with her bath? I’d be delighted to offer ye my services as lady’s maid. Or in any other capacity, for that matter,” he asked with a mischievous grin, stripping her naked with his eyes.
Rogue on the Rollaway Page 8
