Magical Memories

by Donna Fletcher

  “Surrender.”

  Her response echoed in his head. “No. No. No.”

  They climaxed together for what seemed like forever, her cries echoing in the night. Marcus threw back his head and looked to the heavens and at that moment a shocking thought hit him.

  Michael bolted up in bed, shaking. “Good God, Tempest,” he said on a whisper, looking down at her sleeping peacefully. “I loved you.”

  Tempest stirred from her slumber, her sleepy eyes fighting to open and not knowing why. A glance at the bedside clock told her it was three in the morning and the empty spot beside her in bed was the reason her sleep had been disturbed.

  Michael was in the room; she could feel his presence. It was strong and palpable. It took only seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and with a quick glance around the room she found him standing at the window. He was completely naked, his back to her, and she admired the strength of his body. He had broad shoulders she loved to wrap her arms around, a tapered waist and a firm buttocks that led to muscular legs.

  Her glance darted up to his head and its dark layered hair that never managed to look neat yet appealed to her anyway. He appeared to be deep in thought, his arms crossed in front of him. The rain continued pelting the window and a chill filled the air though a fire roared in the hearth.

  His disturbed mood had awakened her, penetrated her sleep, and called to her for solace.

  She slipped from the bed, her body bare, feeling perfectly comfortable with their shared nakedness. She approached almost in flight, her feet lifting slightly off the carpet. She thought to surprise him but just as she reached out to touch him he turned with a spin and locked her in his arms, her back pinned to the front of him.

  “Gotcha,” he whispered and kissed the side of her neck where he knew she was the most sensitive.

  She shivered in his arms, gooseflesh running over her, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. She rested her head back against his chest and placed her arms over his.

  “You couldn’t sleep?” she asked, concerned.

  “A dream,” he admitted.

  She felt his body tense against hers and she realized that the dream had disturbed him. “Want to talk about it?”

  He kissed her neck again. “I have something else in mind.”

  “You have much on your mind.”

  He nibbled all the way up to her ear. “A witch’s intuition?”

  “A lover’s familiarity.”

  He moved so suddenly she had no time but to respond to his demand. He spun her around, hoisted her up and insisted, “Wrap your legs around me.”

  She did so without thought.

  He clamped firm hands on her bottom and walked her to the bed, dropping down on it and easing himself into her. He was hard and thick, and he filled her with quickness that thrilled and excited. His thrusts were deep, hard and fast and she welcomed the repeated rhythm that raced her to the edge of complete surrender.

  She had been near the edge so many times before. She had almost toppled off it more than once but she had managed to hang on. She had always hung on and never let go... never surrendered completely.

  “Let go,” he ordered sharply.

  She shook her head.

  “Let go.” His voice was a deep growl. “Damn it. Let go.”

  “No. No. No.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Tempest. I’ve always loved you.” He shook his head, his rhythm remaining constant. “Michael, Marcus, me. Me. Me loves you always. Always. Always.”

  Could she trust him? God, she wanted to trust him. She wanted so badly to take a step off that edge and know he would catch her. But there was the spell. There was more yet for him to remember, and how then would he feel?

  “I love you, Michael. God, how I love you.”

  Her words did him in. He exploded in a flash, groaning until he thought his throat was raw and silently swearing over his power not being equal to hers.

  Her climax came after—he saw to that—but then she let him and the thought annoyed him.

  He would have her surrender.

  Damned if he wouldn’t.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “You have to see Dagon’s tower room,” Sebastian said, digging into the fat waffle on his plate.

  Ali disagreed, while reaching for the spiced apples to coat her second waffle. “I think he should visit with the fairies in the woods.”

  “The grounds may be wet after yesterday’s soaking, but they are magnificent,” Tempest offered, pouring another cup of English breakfast tea.

  “Or they could tour Edinburgh for the day,” Sarina suggested, helping herself to a second serving of scrambled eggs.

  Sydney spoke up. “I think Michael should be left to decide what he would like to do since Tempest will be busy visiting with the women.”

  Michael was quick to decide. “I want to tour the castle from top to bottom.”

  “Bottom to top,” Sebastian said. “We end with the tower room.”

  Ali shook her head and reached for a fat sausage. “I still think the fairies are the better choice. He’d love meeting Beatrice.”

  “He knocked Beatrice out cold,” Tempest said, and all eyes turned on Michael.

  “Then it was a fairy I knocked out,” Michael said with relief. “I thought I was going—” He turned an accusing glare on Tempest. “You put a spell on me.”

  She had no time to defend her actions, because Ali interrupted with, “Explain, buddy.”

  Michael obliged her, her tone too sharp to be ignored. “I didn’t know she was a fairy when I swatted at her.”

  They all waited for further details.

  Tempest explained. “A misunderstanding that was cleared up quickly.”

  “Is Beatrice upset?” Dagon asked with concern.

  “No, quite the opposite, but I’m sure she’ll explain herself when you see her. You know how she loves to tell a tale.”

  “You’re forgiven,” Ali said, pointing her fork at Michael.

  “He didn’t mean it,” Sarina said in his defense.

  “You’re too empathetic,” Ali accused, turning her fork on Sarina.

  “And you’re too judgmental,” Sarina snapped.

  Tempest was surprised by their bickering.

  “Time for that tour,” Dagon said and stood.

  “Not going to defend your wife?” Ali asked with an attitude.

  Dagon bent over and kissed Sarina’s cheek. “I’ve made that mistake on several occasions since your arrival. I don’t intend to make it again.”

  Sebastian also stood, depositing a hasty kiss on his wife’s cheek.

  “Call that a kiss, buddy,” Ali said, her fork giving him a quick but harmless poke in the arm.

  “Don’t poke your husband, he’s a good man,” Sarina said with a shake of her finger at Ali.

  “He’s my husband and I’ll do as I please to him,” Ali said, “and watch that finger.”

  “You’re a shrew,” Sarina accused.

  “And you whine,” Ali shot back.

  “Come on, Michael, hurry,” Dagon said, walking briskly toward the door with Sebastian in quick pursuit. “The tears are going to start any minute.”

  Michael rushed out of his chair and stopped to give Tempest a sound kiss.

  “Now that’s a kiss,” Ali said. “Can you teach my husband how to do that, Michael?”

  That stopped Sebastian in his tracks and he turned, ready to pounce on his wife.

  Dagon grabbed his arm and smiled at Ali. “I’m sure Michael will be only too happy.”

  “Sure I will,” Michael said with a grin that faded fast when Ali started at him.

  “My husband is the best kisser in the whole world. He doesn’t need lessons from you.”

  Michael looked stunned, as did Tempest.

  “Hormones,” Sydney mouthed to Tempest and she smiled and nodded in understanding.

  “He is not, Dagon is,” Sarina said, her finger up and shaking
.

  “Run,” Sydney warned with a laugh, and the men beat a hasty retreat.

  o0o

  It was late afternoon by the time the three men entered the tower room. Michael was awed by the collection of historical artifacts displayed so artfully in the cylindrical room. He took his time examining piece after piece, a glass of Scots whisky in his hand that got refilled every time it was near to empty.

  Dagon and Sebastian relaxed in the circle of chairs in the center of the room talking and drinking, their glasses being refilled frequently with a snap of the fingers.

  “I’m telling you, this magic stuff isn’t easy,” Sebastian said.

  The word “magic” had Michael fast joining them. “I agree,” he said, taking the chair between the two.

  “At least you’ve always been a witch,” Sebastian said with envy.

  “It doesn’t do me much good when I haven’t got the slightest idea how to use my skills, and besides—”

  “You’re still having trouble believing in magic,” Dagon finished.

  Sebastian nodded. “I agree with you there. I still pinch myself at times just to remind myself that I’m in the real world.”

  “And I always thought that I was in the real world,” Michael said.

  Dagon grinned and raised his glass in a salute. “The world of magic is much better.”

  “Because it’s always been a part of you,” Sebastian said, refilling all their glasses.

  “It’s a part of both of you now,” Dagon explained. “And it’s a craft that can be learned and perfected to the highest level if you so choose.”

  “I don’t know,” Sebastian said doubtfully. “I watch you and Ali and then there are Sydney’s skills.” He shook his head. “And then there’s Tempest. Wow. She’s remarkable.”

  Dagon shot him a warning look but it was too late.

  “Why is she so remarkable?” Michael asked.

  Dagon answered. “She’s worked on her skills.”

  Michael asked a question that surprised him. “Can you match her powers?”

  “No.”

  “Can Sydney?”

  Dagon shook his head.

  Michael paused in thought a moment then asked, “Is there any witch that can match her skills?”

  “More whisky?” Sebastian asked and reached for the crystal decanter, but Michael shook his head.

  He was insistent. “Is there?”

  Sebastian looked to Dagon and he reluctantly answered. “None that I know of.”

  Michael reached for the decanter of whisky. “She must be quite old.”

  “Ancient,” Sebastian said and regretted his remark as soon as he heard it slip from his mouth.

  Michael appeared not to have heard, he was so lost in his thoughts, and Dagon breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

  Dagon attempted a bit of levity. “Magic is much like a woman.”

  Both men’s eyes widened at his remark.

  “Just when you think you begin to fully comprehend magic, you realize you haven’t understood it at all.”

  “That’s the truth.” Sebastian nodded.

  Michael agreed with his own nod. “You can never really understand a woman.”

  “Amen,” Sebastian said with a salute of his glass.

  Dagon threw in another opinion. “I think the trick is not to.”

  Michael added his own bit of wisdom. “I think you need to believe.”

  “Believe what?” Sebastian asked.

  “Believe in love,” he explained. “If you love a woman, I think that makes a difference. I think love opens a door between her and you and allows you to understand, if only a little.”

  “You may be right,” Sebastian said. “Realizing how much I loved Ali opened up a flood of emotions I never expected and helped me to truly understand how I felt and how she felt.”

  Dagon agreed. “That’s true. When I admitted to myself that I loved Sarina, something changed, and I understood what had to be done to make certain that I never lost her love.”

  “But love can be damn painful,” Sebastian said. “When I thought that I had lost Ali I thought my heart was literally breaking, and I got this twisting knot in my gut that wouldn’t go away. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t do my work. I felt as if I was going insane.”

  “Join the club,” Dagon said. “I was damned frightened that I didn’t possess the power to save Sarina from that damned spell. And I hate that gut-wrenching feeling that won’t go away and won’t let you eat and make you totally senseless.”

  The two men looked to Michael.

  “Okay, so I’ve experienced the same thing. Only I didn’t think I had a chance in hell with Tempest. I was out of work and out of money, and her telling me she’s wealthy—” He took a gulp of whisky. “What chance did I have? And yet my heat ached and yes, my gut wrenched until I realized I had no choice but to leave. Thing was, though, I admitted to myself I loved her but never told her of my feelings. She confessed her love when I told her of my intentions to leave. I was so damned relieved when she told me.” He shook his head. “But now it’s become more complicated.”

  “Not if you believe,” Sebastian reminded him.

  Dagon also spoke up. “If your love is strong, it will survive chaos.”

  Michael thought that a strange remark, and yet somehow appropriate. “I can’t imagine life without her.”

  “I know, I feel the same way,” Sebastian agreed. “Ali is so much a part of me, I miss her when I’m at work and I can’t wait to get home to her.”

  Dagon laughed. “I’m surprised Sarina isn’t tired of my constant presence. I hunt her down throughout the day and yet she never seems to mind.”

  “I miss being alone at the cottage with Tempest. It was like no one else in the world existed but the two of us and that was just fine with me.”

  “Damn, look at what love does to you,” Sebastian said with a grin and raised his glass.

  Dagon and Michael raised theirs.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Dagon said.

  “Damn right,” Michael said, and they toasted their words with a clink of glasses.

  “What do you suppose our women are up to?” Dagon asked.

  “Probably in the kitchen talking like we are,” Sebastian said and stood quickly. “Maybe we better check with them.”

  Dagon stood with haste. “Definitely.”

  “What’s wrong?” Michael asked, standing along with them.

  “Ali in the kitchen can only mean trouble,” Sebastian said.

  Michael laughed. “How much trouble could she possibly get into?”

  “Don’t ask,” the two men said in unison and shoved Michael in front of them to be the first out the door, and the first one to enter the kitchen just in case Ali was at the electric mixer again and they required a shield.

  o0o

  “I’m sorry, Sarina,” Ali apologized, setting the teapot on the hot pad in the center of the kitchen table and sitting in the chair beside Tempest. “No one warned me about hormones raging out of control during pregnancy.”

  “I do whine lately,” Sarina admitted.

  Sydney poured the tea, her pointing finger doing the work. “A woman’s body changes; it can’t be helped.”

  Sarina sighed dramatically and ran a loving hand over her rounded stomach. “I enjoy carrying our son.”

  “I bet Dagon enjoys the improved size of your breasts,” Ali said with a squirt of lemon into her tea. The squirt missed and almost caught Tempest in the eye, but she was quick enough to deflect the juice with her finger and send it back to the cup.

  Sydney shook her head slowly.

  Sarina giggled. “Actually, he does.” A frown replaced her faded giggle. “I worry though that my increased sexuality might be too much for him to handle.”

  Ali almost spit her tea out. “Oh, I can’t wait for Dagon to hear that one.”

  “Your desire for sex hasn’t increased?” Sarina asked curiously.

  Tem
pest listened with acute interest while sipping her tea.

  “Of course it has, and Sebastian handles it without a problem,” Ali said proudly and turned to Tempest. “So how is Michael in bed?”

  “Ali,” Sydney scolded. “Apologize. Do you forget who you speak to?”

  Ali ran her glance up and down Tempest. “Looks like I’m talking to a woman.”

  “Alisande Wainwright—”

  Tempest interrupted. “Ali’s right, Sydney, I am a woman, a woman who enjoys being part of this conversation.”

  “So the answer is?” Ali asked, reaching for a shortbread cookie.

  Tempest beamed. “Fantastic.”

  “Nothing like a man who knows what he’s doing in bed,” Ali said.

  “Yes,” Sarina agreed, “too many of them don’t know how to use their equipment.”

  Ali laughed. “You have a way with words, Sarina. I would have been blunter.”

  “I was being polite.” Sarina smiled.

  Ali turned to Sydney. “Your turn, dear Aunt. Which man fine-tuned your fiddle the best?”

  “There’s only one man who can fine-tune a woman’s fiddle the best, dear heart,” Sydney said. “And he’s the man that woman loves. Without love, it’s merely sex.”

  The three women nodded in agreement.

  “Love takes sex to a different level,” Tempest said. “It defines the depth and consciousness of the act. It joins souls.”

  Ali looked at Tempest, impressed. “You make it sound magical.”

  “It is magical,” Tempest said, “magical to all those who open their hearts and souls to it.”

  “And you don’t need to be a witch to perform the magic of love,” Sarina added.

  “But you need to believe in magic,” Sydney said.

  “To believe is magic,” Tempest corrected gently as only a wise teacher could.

  Sarina sighed like a lovesick girl. “Dagon and I believe.”

  Ali even sighed, though it was more sensual. “Sebastian and I certainly believe.”

  They both looked to Tempest.

  She held her tongue. Did Michael truly believe? And what of Marcus? Did he ever believe? She spoke from her heart. “I believe in Michael.”

  Tears clouded Sarina’s eyes and Ali sniffed to keep hers from falling. Sydney laid a comforting hand over Tempest’s.