A quick grin curved his lips before he composed himself and whirled around. “Which of ye imps threw that?” he roared, a fierce scowl darkening his face. “War it is, then.” With that challenge issued, he took up a defensive position behind a pile of split firewood stacked near the bailey wall. The snowballs came fast and furious with both sides sustaining numerous hits. When there was a lull in the frozen missiles, Faolan cautiously peered out from behind the stacked wood and received a face full of snow for his trouble.
Two childish voices shrieked in high spirits when he sputtered his indignation, but it was the feminine giggle that caught his attention. Leaping to his feet, he brushed the snow from his eyes and gazed down into the shining face of his wife. “Maggie,” he breathed.
“John, me darlin’,” she whispered, raising an affectionate hand to stroke his cheek. “As bonny as ever, ye are.”
Capturing and threading her slender fingers in his, he blinked back stinging tears. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I,” he murmured.
“Aye, ye are,” she agreed, turning and waving to the two boys now busy repairing their snow fort. “Just a memory ye’ve clung to for too many years, wishin’ ye could change something meant to be.” She smiled and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Ye’ve mourned us long enough, John. ’Tis time to let go, love. Think of yer future.”
“I have no future.” His entire body shook with the silent sobs he could no longer contain. “Ye canna know what’s it’s been like, Maggie,” he choked out, falling to his knees beside her. “All these years…so angry with losing ye and the babe, my sons gone…I missed ye so…I should have died too,” his voice faded to a broken whisper and his head fell forward in a slump. “God, how I wanted to.”
Maggie laughed then, a warm, rich sound. “Here’s a secret for ye, mo chridhe,” she smiled, smoothing his hair back from his forehead, “nothing ever dies. The gift stays the same, no matter the wrapping.” Grabbing his hands, she struggled to tug him to his feet before bursting into laughter again. “Get up off yer arse ‘afore it freezes solid, man.”
Even as he watched, her face shifted and began to change. Gray eyes became eyes of green, nutmeg brown locks turned to tousled waves of chestnut. Small flakes of snow dotted her auburn lashes, and her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. Without hesitation, he dropped his mouth to hers and placed a gentle kiss on her lips then ran his thumb over her eyelashes. “Yer cold,” he said gruffly.
“Then warm me,” Colleen said with a saucy tilt of her head. Faolan grinned and bent to kiss her again, but to his utter shock and disbelief his wee hoyden scooped up a handful of fresh snow and shoved it down the front of his belted surcoat. “Guess ye need the warming now,” she called back, sprinting off with Faolan in intent pursuit.
Without warning, the scene changed. He stood alone in the midst of a massive group of standing stones. Just after the gloaming, the midsummer evening was warm with a brisk wind blowing in from the nearby ocean. Faolan lifted his head and inhaled deeply of the familiar salt tang carried aloft by the breeze.
A pebble skittering along the ground behind him alerted him to the presence of another. “Who’s there?” he called, knowing the answer. “Show yerself lest I draw my sword and do ye a mischief.”
The husky feminine chuckle behind the stone sent the blood rushing straight to his cock and his balls tightened pleasurably in anticipation. “Draw yer sword, milord. What is it yer thinking I came fer?”
Faolan ducked behind the nearest monolith, but her laughter caught on the wind, letting him know his quarry was on the move. “Ye’ve no chance of hiding from me, Blossom,” he whispered. “I’ll hunt ‘til I catch ye and when I catch ye I’m never letting ye go.”
Her teasing voice tinkled from further away. “But first ye have to catch me.”
They played under the rising moonlight like children, dodging and hiding from each other until one wrong step sent Colleen tumbling backward into Faolan’s waiting arms. He caught her easily, lowering her to the ground and pressing his body against hers. “Consider yerself well and truly caught, my love,” he said triumphantly, his lips buried at her throat while he fumbled with the ties of her bodice.
“As well ye already knew,” Colleen said with a moan of desire, pulling his shirt free from his loosened trews and slipping her hand inside.
* * * *
Faolan felt the dream beginning to slip away and struggled to stay asleep. He gradually became aware of his surroundings and the raging hard on the dream had inspired. Without opening his eyes, he slipped his hand under the covers and took himself in hand, trying to reenter the dream and find the completion his body craved. His hand moved up and down on his swollen cock while he called forth the image of Colleen’s soft lips pleasuring him, and the rush of pleasure was so intense he was nearly undone by it.
…Faolan…
The soft murmur coming from the next room jolted him wide awake, triggering his soldier’s inner alarm. The dream forgotten, he slid soundlessly from the bed. From its hiding place between the mattresses, he pulled out the sgian dubh, flicking it to remove the sheath and bare the deadly blade. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he eased toward the living room, pressing himself against the wall. “Colleen?” he called from inside the bedroom doorway. “Is that ye, lass?”
He wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself. The delicate fragrance of jasmine and spice assailed his nostrils and he knew without a doubt his worst fears had been realized.
“Not quite,” a feminine voice purred. “Hello, Faolan…my dearest love.”
A wave of nausea washed over Faolan as he slipped into his pajama bottoms, tiny beads of sweat dotting his forehead in spite of the bone deep chill coursing throughout his body. Realizing the futility, he dropped the knife, took a steadying breath and prepared to face his own personal nightmare, currently reclining on the couch with a shapely bare leg thrown carelessly over the arm. He took one long stride into the living room but froze at the doorway. “What do ye want, Aobhnait?” he asked, refusing to look directly at her.
Tall and slender as a blond willow, Aobhnait was beauty personified, if one didn’t look too closely at the soulless eyes her flawless face held. Cold laughter tinkled like little shards of glass on ice. “What I’ve always wanted …you.” Patting the couch next to her, she gave him a winsome smile. “Come sit with me, lover. I miss the feel of your body next to mine. On mine.” Her gaze dropped from his face and flickered over his chest and lower abdomen. “In mine,” she added, flicking the tip of her tongue over her lips in heated anticipation.
With an involuntary shudder, Faolan folded his arms across his chest. “Nay.”
Aobhnait’s eyebrows arched in question. “No? You wound me so with your callous words, Celt,” she mocked. “What if I said pretty please?”
“I willna sit or anything else with ye for that matter,” he snapped. “In fact, I would prefer it did ye leave altogether.” His eyes darted surreptitiously in the direction of the wall clock before returning to glare at his unwelcome visitor.
The faery’s mouth tightened in obvious annoyance. “Your plain little cailín won’t be back for a while yet, so we have plenty of time. Now…” She patted the couch again, “…attend me.”
He ignored the taunt and shook his head again. “I told ye I won’t and I meant it. Speak yer piece and go.”
“Now is that any way to address me?” Aobhnait tsked, her voice both amused and aggravated. “I would have thought you’d be a bit more…respectful…given your tenuous position.”
Faolan’s mouth quirked up at the corners. “Then kindly allow me to rephrase my answer,” he said with a curt bow. “Speak yer piece and go…bitch.”
The guttural sound that came out of Aobhnait’s mouth chilled him to the marrow of his bones. “You dare,” she hissed. She flung out a delicate hand and Faolan crumpled to his knees, a sharp cry escaping his lips as he rolled into a fetal position clutching his stomach against the sudden wall of excruciating p
ain.
With superhuman effort Faolan raised one hand, singing softly under his breath as his fingers traced a symbol in the air. Aobhnait waved again and he crashed into the wall behind him, falling into a groaning heap. “We gave you that magic, Druid. Do not think to use it against me.” Once again composed, she pointed to the floor next to her bare feet. “Cease this foolishness and bring yourself here to me, pet.”
After a moment, he struggled to rise on hands and knees. Unwilling but powerless to refuse, he crawled over to the sofa and collapsed at her feet with a growl of impotent rage. “Aobhnait ,” he managed to rasp out with a forced laugh, “why doona ye just kill me an’ be done wi’ it? This is becoming tiresome.”
She smoothed her hand over his head much as one would pet a beloved dog. “It is not my wish to cause you pain.” She smiled. “So a little more obedience on your part would not go amiss.” Grasping a handful of hair, she gave it a cruel tug. “Your indomitable spirit is one of the things I adore most about you. Don’t make me break it.”
His only response was another growl. She regarded him with a look not unlike a scientist observing something unexpected in a petri dish. Flinching imperceptibly when she waved her hand again, he inhaled sharply then groaned and sagged against the couch when the pain began to ebb.
“Ah, well, no matter.” She shrugged dispassionately. “We lose sight of what’s important here. A human woman has finally called you forth and is willing to break your curse. You must be quite pleased with yourself. I wondered if she was aware of your duplicitous nature, but here I find you’ve fallen in love yourself for the first time in many centuries. Well played, my darling.”
His cheeks flushed with hot color. “I’m not yer–”
Her long robe rustled when she stretched her arms and propped her chin up with dainty hands. She made a little moue of her mouth. “And even better,” Aobhnait continued on, ignoring his outburst, “she’s fallen in love with you. So much so, I think she’ll make you a gift of your little amulet to break your curse. So that the two of you can be together forever, of course.” She made a disgusted noise and wrinkled her perfect button nose in distaste.
“I won’t allow it,” Faolan said, and with a sigh of resignation looked into the face that had haunted his dreams for centuries. “I’m askin’, nay, I’m beggin’ ye. Please, Aobhnait, wrong ye I did, and for that I am sorry. Doona ye take out yer anger on Colleen. She’s an innocent in all this. I deserve yer wrath, not her.”
“Ah, so noble of you to sacrifice yourself for your lady love, but I’d expect no less of you. Might I offer you an alternative?” the faery suggested. “Instead of her soul–”
He shot to his feet with a foul curse on his lips. “I willna let ye harm her,” Faolan snarled, his hands curling into claws
Aobhnait smiled but the effect was chilling instead of comforting. “I would not dream of it, my darling,” she assured him. “If you will but renounce Colleen and swear your love only for me, I give you my promise I will leave her unharmed.”
Faolan’s blood went cold. “And if I don’t?”
“Then her soul will take the place of yours when she gives you the necklace,” Aobhnait said. “’Tis quite simple, really. Do you love her enough to break her heart? I’ll let you think about that.” The air around her shimmered as she faded from sight. “And Faolan,” her disembodied voice called out, “if you even attempt to warn her, I will kill her.”
Faolan stood rooted to the spot long after the light fragrance of jasmine dissipated then crumpled to his knees. One of them would be sacrificed. He had no doubt Aobhnait meant every word, and there was no choice to be made. Realizing how the cruel words from his lips were going to destroy the woman he loved more than life itself, the great warrior hung his head in shame, wishing he had died centuries ago.
* * * *
Colleen was finishing up on the inventory forms at her desk when Sonya stuck her head in the door. “I’m feeling a little sick,” she said, “would you mind watching the front while I–”
She clapped a hand over her mouth, turned and bolted for the tiny employee restroom in the back of the storeroom.
“I got it. Go,” Colleen urged. She swore softly when a thick metal staple scraped across her wrist, drawing a spidery trail of blood on the thin skin underneath. Grabbing the tube of antiseptic ointment she kept for her medical emergencies, she dabbed a bit on as she rose and headed up the darkened hall to the gift shop.
From behind the counter, Colleen surveyed her domain. Empty. She shoved the medicine in the back pocket of her jeans and busied herself by straightening up. When the bell chimed to let her know she had a customer, she turned with an easy smile on her lips. “Let me know if I can help you find anything,” she offered.
A tall woman dressed in khakis and a pink t-shirt came into the shop, her blond hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. Without removing her dark sunglasses, she glanced around the store. She gave an engaging smile when her gaze settled on Colleen. “I was looking for children’s books,” she said in a slight Southern drawl. “My children just love the old stories–fairy tales, Arabian nights, things like that.”
Colleen’s brows knit together. “I don’t know if we have fairy tales, but I can show you what we do have.” She motioned for the woman to follow her and stopped in front of a tall bookshelf full of brightly colored volumes. “Right here,” she said, indicating the children’s literature.
The woman leaned in close to view the display of books, running a delicate finger along the spines. “Thank you,” she said, “but I think they’ve already read most of those. We read a wonderful one last week about a little boy who found a magic lamp. A genie was imprisoned inside, of course, but when the boy gave the genie the lamp as a gift, it broke the curse and set him free.” She sighed blissfully. “There’s so much sadness in the world already. Isn’t it so nice to have happy endings like that?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Colleen said, the mental wheels turning and gaining momentum. What if… “I’d be happy to check the catalog to see what’s availa–”
“I must be off,” the woman suddenly blurted. Without another word, she turned and headed for the entrance, her ponytail bouncing with each long stride.
The exotic fragrance of jasmine and spice tickled her nose and Colleen called to the odd visitor over the tinkle of the bell. “Excuse me, what is that perfume you’re wearing? It’s very nice.”
“I’m not wearing any,” the woman replied, not looking back.
* * * *
By the time Colleen arrived at home, she was so excited she could scarcely contain herself. “I’m home,” she called out, locking the door behind her. There was no answer. “Faolan?” She ran to the kitchen to find it empty, peeked into the guest bedroom, both bathrooms and finally the master bedroom. “Where are you?”
She found him sitting on the balcony with his back against the wall, one arm draped around a raised knee. He stared out over the lake behind her condo with unseeing eyes. “Hello, Blossom,” he said, his voice quiet.
“Hello, yourself,” she said, plopping down in his lap. “Whatcha doing?”
“Just…thinking,” Faolan said, stroking her cheek as he gave her a soft kiss on the temple. He wrapped both arms around her waist and held her close, burying his face in the hollow of her neck.
“About what?” she teased, “Dinner?”
When he didn’t respond, Colleen cupped her hand under his chin and tilted his face to meet her gaze. Her happy smile faded when she realized something was very, very wrong.
Faolan rose abruptly, cradling her in his arms. “About ye,” he said, yanking open the sliding glass door and striding toward the bedroom. “Only ye.” He laid her down gently on the bed and began to tug the t-shirt from the waistband of her jeans.
“Wait, I want to talk to you,” she said, sitting up.
“No, talk later. I need ye now,” he rasped, his fingers fumbling in their attempt to unzip her jeans. “Please, Colleen.”
His only response was to hold her close and kiss her like the world was going to come crashing to an end at any minute. She could almost taste the desperation on his lips. “Talk to me,” she whispered. “Please, Faolan. Let me help you. I love–”
“Doona say it,” he hissed, crushing his mouth against hers. “Please, Princess…if ye do love me, hold yer tongue.”
“Why won’t you let me tell you how I feel about you?” she demanded, pushing against his chest. “You never let me finish.” She twisted out of his embrace and scooted to the edge of the bed. “I have something exciting to tell you, an idea I got while I was at work.” Colleen bounced off the bed and over to the dresser, oblivious to the stricken look on his face. With a grin, she picked up the amulet and swung it like a hypnotist’s medallion. “I got an idea about how to break your curse from a story I heard today…”
“Don’t say it,” he said in a cracked whisper. “Please, Colleen…”
Holding the necklace, she plopped down next to him on the bed. “Faolan…I love you,” she blurted out before he could stop her, “and I’m giving you the amulet to break your curse.”
“No,” Faolan roared and with a choking sound knocked the necklace out of her hand. It fell to the floor, and Colleen looked up into his face in astonishment.
“What the hell–” she began, but before she could finish her thought the sound of slow applause coming from the doorway made them both whirl around to face the source.
Rogue on the Rollaway Page 15
