by Donna Grant
“Ah … Rihanna,” she answered, still baffled that he had known she had her iPod on. She had turned it down low enough so that no one would hear, and the cords to her earplugs were hidden by her hair.
Tara’s heart began to pound as her mind raced. Had the Warriors found her again? She scooted her rolling chair back, prepared to grab her purse and keys and run.
Until she spotted the white cord against her black sweater.
She looked at Ramsey to find him staring at her. After a moment, he shrugged and turned his back to her.
Tara released a long sigh and put her elbow on the desk before she dropped her head into her hand. She was so paranoid. She hated living her life this way, but for her, there wasn’t another way.
Because she was a Druid. And not just any Druid.
She was a dangerous one.
Tara squeezed her eyes closed and thought over the past ten years of her life. It wasn’t that she’d had a good or bad childhood. It had been average, just like her grades in school.
Hell, she had been average. Average height, average looks, average clothes, average everything.
She had known since she was a small child that she had magic. It ran strong through her family, which never worried her. That is, until the day of her eighteenth birthday, when she learned far more about the Druids than she had ever been told before.
Her family had lied to her all those years before, telling her that all Druids were the same. Not only were there two different kinds of Druids—mies, the good Druids, and droughs, the ones who dabbled in black magic and gave their souls to the Devil—but her family were all droughs.
That wasn’t what bothered her. What made her begin to run was that they wanted her to become drough as well. They demanded she give her soul to Satan, condemning her to Hell when she died.
For some odd, inexplicable reason, that didn’t bother anyone in her family. Just her. And they didn’t understand her. Not that they ever had before.
Tara hadn’t wanted anything extraordinary out of life. She had just wanted a life. A husband who loved her, children surrounding her, and a house filled with lots of laughter.
Instead, she couldn’t stay anywhere too long before she had to leave again. Already she had spent ten years in Scotland, which was most likely ten years too long. She should have gone somewhere else when she ran away from her family, but she had always loved Scotland too much to leave.
However, she knew this was her last stop in her beloved land. She was going to have to leave. And it saddened her.
It was just five days until her birthday. She had always thought by the time she reached twenty-eight she’d have at least two children.
Instead, she was alone.
She didn’t even allow herself to make friends, because friends asked questions and became curious about her past. And she hated lying. So she kept to herself.
There had been one time she’d made the mistake of thinking someone was a friend. But Declan Wallace had been anything but.
To this day she didn’t know how he had found her in that pub in Aberdeen, but his good looks, charm, and silver tongue did the trick for a scared, confused eighteen-year-old who had run away from home.
Tara should have known what kind of man he was, but she blamed her emotional state for overlooking it. She had stayed at his mansion for a month before she’d learned he was a Druid.
When he didn’t push her to undergo the ceremony to become drough, she worked with him on strengthening her magic for several more months. Tara had been careful about how much she used her magic. No one, least of all her, had understood why her magic was so out of control.
But Declan had pressed her to use more of it, to learn to control it. He hadn’t understood her reluctance, and she hadn’t told him. Nothing had worked, yet he hadn’t been upset. He seemed to enjoy the fact that her magic was all over the place. If her emotions were high, she could blow up a light bulb without even trying.
Then one night, she hadn’t been able to sleep and she’d ventured downstairs to get something to eat when she’d overheard Declan’s plans for her.
Once again she was on the run.
She knew eventually she would be caught. Would it be by her family? The Warriors after her? Or Declan? Which would it be that ended her life? Would they come in the middle of the night, or in the light of day? Did it even matter anymore?
“Tara?”
She jerked at the feel of Ramsey’s hand on her arm. “Yes?” she asked as she tugged the bud out of her ear.
“Are you all right?” His brow was knitted, his gray eyes full of concern.
“Yes,” she lied.
He raised a thick black brow and flattened his lips. “I doona believe you’re telling me the truth, but I willna press you.”
The heat of his body seared her skin through her sweater where his hand was, but it didn’t hurt. What it did was cause her blood to heat and made her think of leaning close and pressing her lips against his.
She cleared her throat and looked away from his hypnotic eyes. “I’m fine. Really,” she said and plastered on a smile as she glanced at him.
He released her and stepped back. Instantly she missed his nearness, his touch, and his heat. How he could walk around in a short-sleeve tee in this frigid January weather where snow was several feet thick she didn’t know. But she wished she could do the same.
“How long have you been at Dunnoth Tower?” he asked as he once more knelt in front of the outlet on the opposite wall.
She hated when people asked her questions, but for some reason she wanted to answer Ramsey’s. Which wasn’t a good sign for her at all. “A few weeks.”
He pulled the outlet from the wall and inspected it before he twisted a few wires. “Hmm,” he responded.
“What brought you here?” She licked her lips, refusing to wonder what made her ask her own question. She never did this. It made it appear as if she were interested when she needed to keep her distance.
But there was something so alluring, so fascinating about Ramsey that she couldn’t help herself.
“Chance, maybe.” He shrugged and tightened a wire. “Who knows? How about you?”
“I was driving and the road took me here.”
He looked up and met her gaze. “Definitely chance on your part.”
She grinned as she leaned her forearms on her desk. She had no idea what had come over her asking and answering questions. And she had even left her answer open so Ramsey could ask something else.
But he didn’t.
The fact he didn’t gave her the insane urge to inquire about something else. Thankfully, the phone rang, saving her from making an utter fool of herself.
Tara kept glancing at Ramsey as she looked at the calendar for booking a company conference. She grew agitated at the woman on the other end of the line because Ramsey was finishing up with the outlet and she was still on the phone.
And then Ramsey closed his toolbox and stood. He gave her a smile and walked away.
Tara sighed. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. I didn’t hear that last bit. Could you repeat?”
As she wrote down the dates in the calendar and calculated the deposit, Tara told herself now wasn’t the time to find a man she was interested in.
The problem was there was never a good time for her to get involved with anyone.…
ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS TITLES BY
DONNA GRANT
THE DARK SWORD SERIES
Dangerous Highlander
Forbidden Highlander
Wicked Highlander
Untamed Highlander
Shadow Highlander
Darkest Highlander
THE DARK WARRIOR SERIES
Midnight’s Master
Midnight’s Lover
Midnight’s Seduction
Midnight’s Warrior
(coming in December)
THE DARK KING SERIES
(E-BOOK EDITIONS ONLY)
Dark Craving
Night’s Awakenin
g
Dawn’s Desire
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bestselling, award-winning author DONNA GRANT has been praised for her “totally addictive” and “unique and sensual” stories. She’s the author of more than twenty-five novels spanning multiple genres of romance. Her latest series, Dark Warriors, is the new spin-off of her bestselling Dark Sword series featuring a thrilling combination of Druids, primeval gods, and immortal Highlanders where ancient magic meets the modern world. She lives with her husband, two kids, a dog, and four cats in Texas.
You can find Donna at www.DonnaGrant.com.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
MIDNIGHT’S SEDUCTION
Copyright © 2012 by Donna Grant.
Excerpt from Midnight’s Warrior copyright © 2012 by Donna Grant.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
www.stmartins.com
eISBN: 9781466814875
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / November 2012
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
