The tour was over just after one o’clock. Waving a last goodbye at the kids, Colleen just walked into the gift shop when the phone rang. As she darted behind the counter she called out to the clerk on duty, a young woman rearranging books at the rear of the shop. “I got it, Sonya,” and answered with a cheerful “Thank you for calling the Tampa Museum of Art Gift Shop. How may I help you?”
The voice at the other end was deep, masculine and official. “I need to speak to Colleen O’Brien, please.”
The hair on the back of her neck prickled with apprehension. “This is she. Who is this?”
“This is Sergeant Buckner with the Brandon police department. We’re holding a man here at the station. He requested that we call you. Big fellow, no ID, says his name is…”
There was a soft thump when her forehead hit the counter. “I’ll be right there.”
* * * *
“He’s in here, Miss. I’ll be right outside the door if you need anything.” The uniformed officer escorted Colleen into the small interrogation room furnished only by two folding chairs and a gray metal table. She gave him a grateful smile when he closed the door behind her then turned her full attention to the room’s only occupant. Faolan was looking entirely too cheerful given his current position of being seated in one of those chairs and handcuffed, his long legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. “Good day, Princess,” he said with a grin. “Yer home early.”
Dropping into the seat opposite him she demanded in a low voice, “Faolan, what the hell did you do?”
“‘Twas all a simple misunderstanding, I’m thinking…” he began. “I was at the market…”
Colleen’s eyes widened and she gasped in disbelief. “Grocery store? What on earth were you doing there?”
“Shopping,” he drawled, like it should have been completely obvious. “Had ye been listening this morning instead of tearing about like a wee mad thing, ye might have remembered me mentioning we were out of–”
She waved her hand impatiently to stop him. “Wait. How did you get there?”
His smile was dazzling. “I drove yer car,” he said proudly.
Thump. She closed her eyes as her forehead hit the tabletop. “Faolan, you can’t do that,” she mumbled. “Let me guess. You learned to drive like you learned to make coffee, by watching, right?”
At the soft sound of movement she cracked open one eye to see his concerned face level with hers on the table. “Please doona do that, Princess,” he said, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “It pains me to see ye so distressed over such a trifling matter as this.”
She gave him a sour look and sat upright. “Trifling matter,” she mimicked then frowned when she realized what else was wrong with his admission. “My car wouldn’t start this morning. How did you manage that? Been watching mechanic shows on A&E?”
He cocked an eyebrow, an enigmatic smile playing about his lips. “Magic, Princess. A wee incantation ‘twas all it took and–”
Thump.
“Yer really going to have to not do that,” Faolan admonished, giving her a stern glare.
She sat up again, took a deep breath and plunged in. “Okay, tell me what happened.”
With a casual shrug of one shoulder he began to explain. “Och, aye. Well, being as ye were too busy this morning, I drove meself to the market and the officer was behind me in a car that had bright blue lights upon it. It made a hell of a racket too, a loud screaming sound the likes of which I doona ever wish to hear again. Does yer car make that noise?”
When her lips tightened in irritation, he hurried on without waiting for an answer. “Those spinning lights came on as I was turning into the parking area. I dinna know he wanted me to stop. He approached me when I got out of the car and asked me for…something…some sort of papers. I dinna have any papers other than my list and I told him so. He insisted I come with him. I insisted he call to tell ye where I was so ye wouldna worry. He told me I couldna give him orders, and I told the clot heided buffoon if he intended on taking me anywhere he’d do as I say because I’ll not have ye worrying.” He indicated his handcuffed wrists and gave her a bright smile. “And so here’s me and here’s ye. Gaols are much cleaner now, ‘twould seem,” he observed, looking around the room, his gaze returning to rest on her. “Will ye be off the rest of the day, then? We could–”
“Focus,” Colleen hissed. She yanked opened her purse and dug around for her wallet. “I’ve got to get you out of here. There should be money left to bail you out.” She stared up at the ceiling. “How in the world–”
“Calm yerself, lass,” he soothed, “I’m going to get myself out of here and all will be well. What I need for ye to do is keep those beautiful lips of yers closed and let me do that. And no questions until we’re home,” he added when she opened her mouth to speak. “Do ye know the papers he was asking for? Give me yers, please.”
Beautiful lips, her heart fluttered at the words. Giving herself a mental shake, Colleen steeled herself against melting into a gooey puddle at his flattery and focused on the immediate problem. “Most likely he wanted your license and registration,” she nodded. She handed both to him and sat back in the hard plastic chair, waiting to see what happened next.
With a strange glint in his eyes, Faolan leaned forward. “Ready to see a wee bit of real magic, Colleen?” he whispered.
Funny how she kept forgetting he was insane. She favored him with an indulgent smile and folded her arms across her chest. “Sure. Dazzle me.”
Faolan stared down at the metal handcuffs and whispered something in a foreign tongue. Both cuffs popped open with a small click and fell to the tabletop with a sharp clatter.
Not possible. She did not just see that. Colleen’s mind reeled, struggling to hold her own face neutral while the impossible played out in front of her very eyes.
“But wait…there’s more. If ye act now, we’ll throw in a free constable with yer paid order,” he said in his best announcer voice. Rubbing his wrists, he called out for the deputy standing outside. When the door opened, Faolan rose to his feet. “Come inside and hold,” he ordered in a strange, multilayered voice. The deputy obeyed immediately then froze.
“Oh my God, Faolan. How–” Colleen began, jumping up in alarm.
Shooting a quelling glare in her direction, Faolan pushed the door until the lock clicked into place. “What is yer name?” he asked, handing the handcuffs over to the immobilized officer. He held out his hand to Colleen and pulled her close to his side.
“Officer Buckner,” the expressionless deputy answered, clipping the cuffs back on his belt like it was business as usual for suspects to release themselves.
“Here are my papers, Officer Buckner,” Faolan said, handing Colleen’s license and registration to the policeman. “This was all a misunderstanding. Ye will let us leave now.”
The officer gave her credentials a perfunctory glance and nodded as he handed them back. “Everything’s in order here. Sorry to trouble you folks; you’re free to go,” he said, his voice mild, almost dreamy.
“Thank ye,” Faolan inclined his head. “Where is my car?”
“My car,” Colleen muttered under her breath. Without hesitation Faolan gave her a warning elbow to be quiet, and she oofed in response, glaring up at him.
“Still in the grocery store parking lot, couldn’t get it to start,” the officer said, staring up at Faolan with a vacant, benign expression.
“Ye will take us there now,” Faolan ordered, giving Colleen a self satisfied sidelong glance.
“Why don’t I give you folks a lift over there now?” Officer Buckner offered, opening the door for them.
At Faolan’s nod, Colleen walked past the officer and into the hallway. Over her shoulder she mouthed, “Security cameras?”
“…canna see us,” he finished for her. “Hush, now.”
“Been watching Law and Order too?” she snapped.
“CSI.” He made a face at her, crossing his eyes. “And for the
love of all that’s holy, Princess, yer mouth. See to it.”
The unlikely threesome proceeded at a deliberate trot toward the entrance of the building. Faolan spoke in that weird voice to everyone they encountered, “Ye doona see us, we are not here.” Colleen divided her attention between the blank looks of the building’s occupants and Faolan’s unwavering, intense gaze. “How are you–”
“Sssh,” he said through clenched teeth, smiling when the officer opened the patrol car door for them. It was only moments before the three of them were standing beside Colleen’s car in the grocery store parking lot. “We stopped ye to ask directions to the mall,” Faolan leaned in close to remind Sergeant Buckner.
“Just asking for directions,” the officer echoed, getting back into the squad car
Faolan nodded his approval, stepped away and took Colleen by the hand. “Thank ye again, sir,” he smiled, speaking again in his normal voice.
Officer Buckner shook his head as if jolted out of a daydream. “No problem, you folks drive safely now,” he said with a happy smile, waving as he drove away.
Arm in arm, they watched him pull out of the parking lot, onto the highway and disappear into traffic. Faolan exhaled a sigh of relief and reached for the driver’s door. Colleen sprang to life, giving his hand a light smack.
“Not on your life, sport,” she snapped and unless her eyes were deceiving her the big Highlands badass was almost sulky as he stalked around to the passenger side, got in and slammed the door behind him. “Wait, the car wouldn’t start this morning. How did you…”
Faolan made an irritated face and muttered a few choice words under his breath. The engine roared to life before she had a chance to grasp the spare key still in the ignition. She gave a soft shriek and turned an exasperated glance to him. He stared straight ahead, but she was certain the corner of his mouth twitched before he turned and looked out the passenger window.
“We’re going to have a long talk about this when we get home,” she said in a pretty good Ricky Ricardo accent. “You’ve got some serious ‘splaining to do, Lucy.”
“It’s Faolan, and I’ve no doubts about that,” he snapped, then softened his words with an irrepressible grin. “But being as we’re here, can we do the shopping first? I’m near starved and we’re out of peanut butter. As ye may recall, I have a list.”
* * * *
Faolan’s raging hunger was appeased by a plateful of sandwiches, a full bag of plantain chips and a quart of milk–just a wee bite to hold him over ‘til the evening meal, he promised. By the end of his snack, Colleen’s paradigm had taken yet another shift.
He demonstrated a few of his unusual skills, levitating small objects, lighting the long taper candles on the kitchen table without using matches. She hid his sunglasses several times while he covered his eyes and using a location charm he found them over and over without hesitation.
“I studied with the Druids for quite a while, lass,” Faolan explained, scouring the empty bag for any remaining chips. Finding none, he crumpled the bag into a tight ball. With the slightest movement of his fingers, the cabinet door under the sink flew open and he threw a perfect shot into the waiting trash can underneath.
Colleen’s eyes widened. “Druids? They were real?” she asked in astonishment. “I remember reading about them, but I always thought they were just stories, like Merlin the Magician in the King Arthur legends.”
“Merlin, as ye call him, was not a story. The Merlin was a title. His given name was Taliesin and he was the greatest Bard the world has ever known,” Faolan said, his voice quiet and respectful.
Colleen drew in a sharp breath. “You knew him, didn’t you,” she whispered. When he feigned interest in something floating in his glass and didn’t answer, she didn’t press the issue. “Did they really do human sacrifices like you read about?”
Faolan made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. “That was the Roman propaganda,” he snorted. “Using fear to drive out the old religion so the new one could take over. To answer yer question, no, no human sacrifices, ever. Life is too sacred a thing to waste.”
“Did you get your magic bag from the Druids too?”
“Nay, Princess, I won that fair and square in a…” he paused, “…a pook…em…a…horse race against…” he paused again then blew out a loud breath and quit trying to explain altogether. “It’s a long story. Anyway, it’s mine, I canna lose it; it’ll always come back to me, and it gives me what I ask it for. Within reason, of course. I’ve never tried to pull a long sword out of it or anything such as that. I doona know if that would work, but…” his voice trailed off as he sat back in his chair deep in contemplation. “Nay, twouldn’t work,” he decided after a moment. “The item requested would have to be able to fit within the parameters of the original dimensions of the bag in order to…”
She patted his hand to bring him back to the present. “You could have gotten yourself out of those ropes the night you landed on my coffee table,” she said, her voice a mixture of exasperation and gentle teasing.
“Aye, I could have,” Faolan admitted, “but I wanted to see if ye would be willing to help me. And ye were.” His was a warm smile, remembering that first evening. “I wanted ye to know ye could trust me.” His gaze shifted away, a strange look flickering briefly across his features.
“And you’ve been unlocking the bedroom and bathroom doors,” Colleen said.
He grinned. “Guilty as charged, milady.”
She paused to think. “Can you make yourself invisible?”
He gave her a roguish smirk. “The feth fiada was one spell I never did quite get the hang of, but tell the truth now, doona ye think me just too handsome to be invisible?” Visibly biting the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face he turned his head so that she could admire his profile. but unable to keep up the conceited façade dissolved into self deprecating laughter.
Colleen deftly avoided the sudden subject change and stared at him through narrowed eyes. “Can you see through things, like clothes or doors? Fly? Spider senses tingling, anything like that?”
Faolan gave her a dubious look. “Nay, but I can do this,” he said, wiggling his fingers at her.
Colleen sat stock still. “Nothing happened,” she complained, disappointed.
“Did it no’?” he grinned.
She shook her head and rose to clear the table then gasped, her hand shooting up to clutch at the front of her shirt. “You unfastened my bra,” she squealed.
Faolan’s warm laughter was intoxicating. “Come to me, sweetling, I’ll put ye to rights,” he said, opening his arms and beckoning her forward.
“Don’t you do any of that funny voice stuff with me.” She pushed her bottom lip out in a playful pout even as she moved toward him. “That’s like…cheating.”
“Sssh, lass. I wouldna dream of it,” he said, pulling her down astride his knees. He slid his warm hands under her blouse in the back and refastened the bra strap, caressing her bare skin underneath. “Yer skin is so soft. Smooth as warm satin, it is.”
Colleen gave a contented sigh and laid her head against his shoulder. “What in the world am I going to do with you?” she whispered, enjoying the feel of his callused palms rubbing her back under her blouse.
He placed a soft kiss on her temple. “Anything ye like.” Her arms wrapped around his waist and tightened. Slipping one hand from behind her back, he cupped her jaw and tilted her face up to meet the light. “Ye have faery marks,” he smiled.
“I have what?” she asked, lifting a hand to her cheek self consciously
He went on to explain, tracing a long finger along her face. “The small brown dots across yer nose and cheeks. The fae only gift those to the most beautiful bairns. Ah, now there’s the smile I was looking for.” He lowered his head to slant his mouth hungrily over hers. Her hands rose of their own accord to thread themselves through his unbound hair, holding his head captive. To her utter surprise, her tongue tentatively requested entrance into his mouth
and he opened wider to allow her to plunder at will.
Colleen’s body trembled like a leaf in a windstorm. She was nearly past the point of rational thought when he pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips, “We need to seek yer bed, Colleen. Let me make ye mine in truth.”
“Wait,” she said, but her voice lacked any believable conviction. “I don’t know–”
“Aye, ye do,” Faolan assured her, his voice roughed by desire. “Night after night I lay with ye curled by my side, and all I can think of is sinking myself into ye so deep I’ll be lost inside ye. Let me love ye, Princess, as a man loves a woman.” He gripped the sides of her hips and pulled her body tight against his. “Yield to me, beloved. I am a man wandering lost in the desert of my desire for ye. ’Tis dying of thirst I am, and ye are the only oasis that can save me, my sweet Colleen.”
Colleen gave a loud gasp when the throbbing spot at the apex of her legs made contact with the hard ridge held captive by his faded jeans and just like that, her feeble resistance crumbled into dust. “Yes.” She sighed as his lips closed over hers.
He rose to his feet, lifting her with him as if she were light as thistledown. “Hold onto me,” he whispered against her mouth, and she locked her ankles behind his back. Without breaking the kiss, he walked to the bedroom, yanked back the covers then laid her down gently in the middle of the bed.
“I’m not on the Pill,” she blurted out. He regarded her with an uncertain look and she lowered her lashes in embarrassment. “To keep me from getting pregnant,” she explained.
“I’m immortal,” Faolan said quietly. “I canna get ye with child.”
Colleen’s mind was racing. I’m going to do this; I’m really going to do this, she thought. There had been no one since Marc–or before Marc either for that matter, but he didn’t need to know that. Deciding to make up for her lack of experience with enthusiasm, she sat up and began unbuttoning her blouse with a shy smile.
Rogue on the Rollaway Page 12
