Sea's Sorceress (5 page)

He had only been gone a few minutes before coming back and laying her keys on the table. Skye tilted her chin with a finger to inspect the damage and brushed a kiss across her cheek.

Her heart slammed in her chest. “You never answered my question. Why did you tell her you were in love with me?” Something was different about him. He was smiling at her, but it wasn’t a comforting, easygoing, friendly sort of smile, or even a playful one. Skye was a predatory cat sizing up his prey.

“I’m tired of hiding my feelings for you.”

Her breath caught. “You’re in love with me? Me?”

His fingers began loosening the pins holding her hair in place. “Mmm. Yes I am. I’ve wondered how many of these it took to hold back all that fire.”

“Seven of them.” Rhiannon watched as he pocketed the pins. “You’re taking my hairpins? Have you lost your mind?” Or maybe she had lost hers, because she was leaning into him, giving in to the sensations of Skye’s fingers threading through her hair, trailing down it until his hands met the curve of her back and she was pressed against him.

“Maybe I have. You drive me crazy.”

“Skye.” She tried to block them, but the images flooded through her mind as familiar as memories.
She could smell the wet grass, and peat fire of the cottage where Etain tended to a sick child. She felt the kick of the babe she carried and the roundness of her stomach, his arms around her with so much love for the child they had made. Daemon drawing her close and leaning down to press his lips to hers.
The memory shimmered into the present and it was Skye who held her.

* * * *

He shifted, leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a gentle, testing kiss. Just the barest touch had the magic humming through him roaring to life. Could she sense it?
Give her time to accept or deny the touch.
Shock rippled through her, along with a desire so strong it whiplashed into him through his empathic gift and broke any control he might have had left.

“I love you, Rhiannon.”

Normally she would have shied away from his touch, instead Rhia linked her arms around his neck and he took the kiss deeper, feeling the heat of her body. She tasted honey-sweet and achingly familiar, as if he’d held her like this a thousand times.

His hands found the hem of her blouse and slid under the soft material just enough so he could skim his fingertips over the smooth warm skin of her back. He pulled back and drew in ragged breaths.

Her face was flushed, and when she fluttered open her eyes, they were dazed. She sighed his name.

“I want you so much, I can’t breathe,” he said. This time when his mouth met hers, Skye gave her no choice but to ride the torrent with him.

“That’s latent magic talking. I can feel it rippling through you. It’s intoxicating.” But she had slipped the leather tie out of his hair and threaded her fingers through it.

“Not only magic. This is more, so much more, Rhia. It’s the first day I saw you bundled in Maggie’s arms. The day I found you asleep on the grass outside the dance. You were five and a handful. It’s every second in between then and now.”

She smiled. “I remember that. Da was so worried. I had wanted to see the stones for myself but couldn’t find my way back. You came for me. Knew where to find me. You should go.” Still she held on tight.

“Come home with me,” he whispered.

“We can’t. I can’t. Not yet.” But she pulled him in for another kiss. One more.

“Mmm. I’m only kissing you, Rhia, but no, I’m not leaving yet.”

“I need to write the payroll for tomorrow.” She laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“You need time to think.”

“You’re my best friend. I don’t want that part of us to change. I don’t want to lose you to a failed romance.”

“You won’t lose me. I’ve always been here for you. That will never change.”

“I’m going to hold you to that promise. Remember.”

“Let me stay while you work on the books. I worry about you being here alone late at night.”

She eyed him dubiously, but one corner of her mouth titled into a smile. “I have the feeling I won’t get much work done if you stay.”

“I’ll go then, but be careful.”

“I keep a pistol in my office under the desk. Anybody who tries to break in won’t leave happy. Go.”

“Kiss me good night.”

Her fingers linked around his neck, pulling him closer. She whispered, “I’ve loved you all my life. What took you so long to catch on? Goodnight.” Then she pressed her lips to his.

How had he missed this? How could he have been this close to her for so long, only to realize now that he loved her? What a fool he’d been.

“Goodnight, Rhiannon.”

She stepped back and headed out into the dining room, to her office.

Skye watched her leave and then locked the back door behind him on his way out.

* * * *

Skye eased the lorry onto the patch of gravel serving as the driveway outside his cliffside home. His watch said almost midnight, but he still wasn’t tired. Residual magic rippled on the edge of his skin. Longing rolled through him as he thought of Rhiannon. With it came the vision. He got out, slammed the door and unlocked the house, flipping on lights as he made his way to his studio.

He needed to work, to paint.

And the idea swirled through his head. Rain and wet stones, velvet. He knew he could capture that moment on canvas. So focused on the task, he left the keys hanging in the door. With mad purpose, he mixed paints into shades he only imagined.

He’d sketch it out first. The line of her neck, the arch of his shoulder. Soft here. Dark there. Until the witch and healer took shape on the bitter field of white. Brush in hand, he began to fill in the shades of night, the grays of weathered stone.

Stroke. Smudge. Sweep.

At two, he was still working at a fevered pace, anxious to get the details down before they fled his vision. At three he put the brush in cleaning solution, left the finished painting on his easel and crashed on the cot in his studio.

Chapter 4

The tinkling sound of her mother’s wind chimes hanging on the front porch kept Rhiannon company while she used her key and slipped into the dark house. She had lost count of the nights spent working late at the pub. Tonight she’d stayed ’til nearly one making up for lost time, working on the books, writing this week’s payroll. So many little details, as soon as she finished dealing with them, it was time to start again.

Feeling like a thief in her own home, she snuck around in the dark. The lamp on the hall table had been turned off–her mother’s signal that daddy was sleeping, but the light over the sink was still on in the kitchen. Maybe a cup of tea would soothe her frazzled nerves enough to sleep.

Conscious of her parents resting in the other room, she used a pot to boil the water instead of the kettle that would have whistled, and then grabbed her favorite cup out of the dish drainer.

Slippered footsteps shifted down the hall. Mama was still awake.

Rhiannon lifted a second mug out of the cupboard. Looked like she’d have company after all.

She turned and leaned against the counter as her mother walked into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, Mama. Did I wake you? I thought I’d have some tea before going to bed.”

“No, I was listening for you. Busy night?” The steady touch of her mother’s hand brushed her shoulder before Maggie moved to take a seat at the table. Unlike Rhia’s long, curly locks, Mama’s red hair was cut short to accentuate the same heart shaped face she’d passed to her daughter.

“Very. One of the barmaids quit. Had to fire one, Maegan, so we’re two hands down.”

“Nasty girl, that one. Can’t understand what Skye sees in her. I can come in if you need me.”

“They aren’t together anymore. I’m glad to be rid of her, to tell the truth. What a drama queen. No. I feel better knowing you’re taking care of Daddy. I’ll manage. How is he tonight?” Rhia reached across and patted her hand.

“Not good, baby. They tried to bring in a hospital bed today. He’s not having any of it. Said by God if he was going to die, he’d do it in his bed. His pain is so severe I can’t even sit on the bed without hurting him. He’s fading so fast…”

“Oh, Mama. I know. I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do. Taking care of what’s his is all I can do. But it’s not enough. Where have you been sleeping?” Rhia took a pot holder off the hook above the counter, turned off the eye and lifted the pot off the stove. After setting the sugar bowl and a small pitcher of milk on the table in front of her mother, she added tea bags to the empty mugs and filled them with the hot water.

“The recliner. As hard as this is, I know it’s worse on you. You never rest. What time do you have to get up?”

Why hadn’t she realized that? Because her parents had always been so close and openly loving to each other. She couldn’t imagine them sleeping in separate beds.

“Seven. You should have just taken my bed. I can sleep on the couch. I want to talk to you about the apartment over the pub. I know we were planning on renting it, but–”

“You want to use it.” Mama rubbed her bad shoulder unconsciously. The rain would have it aching again.

“It makes sense. I have to be at work early, and when I have to work late I’d only need to go upstairs.”

“I feel like we’re kicking you out of the house.”

“And I feel like I’m leaving you alone with a heavy burden, but something has to give or I’m afraid it’s going to be me.”

“When do you plan to move your things?”

“We’re closed until one tomorrow for Sunday service, so I guess I’ll start loading up the lorry in the morning. It may take several trips to move everything and then set up. Maybe God will forgive the lapse.”

“Wake me and I’ll help you.”

* * * *

Even after the tea, Rhia didn’t rest easy. The memory of Skye’s touch, his unexpected kiss burned through her mind, leaving her aching to explore the newfound attraction. She’d known him most of her life, though he was five years older. Her mama had been Molly’s first friend when Skye’s mother had elected to stay in Ireland and marry Michael Corrigan. Skye’s older brother Ryan had been a teenager by the time she was old enough to remember playing with her dolls on Molly’s kitchen floor while her mother visited over a cup of tea and sugar cookies.

Skye and Liv would have been about ten or eleven and allowed to explore the beach and the dance. Kate was always there, running tame in the Corrigan’s house. The three were like peas in a pod, always together. Rhia had been the baby. Always too young. Never allowed to go with them.

With the power of Skye’s kiss still tingling on her lips, she fell asleep thinking of a young boy with ancient eyes.

Dark as night, just as dangerous, and ten times more deadly, Daemon possessed a great power within gifted from his heritage. The child of a nixie and a Scottish highlander with psychic talents, his name meant demon, abomination, cursed into the pits of hell, but for her he was husband, lover, hope, light. Many feared him, as they should. Distrusted the good he did with his devilish power. So, he became protector of those who shunned him, because he loved her. Her people accepted his help because Briella was their healer, and she loved him.

Waiting within the circle of ancient stones, she looked up at the full white moon and pulled her heavy cloak tighter around her shoulders against the chill. He would meet her here at midnight as always. Daemon would take of her, both body and magic. She would give freely and take the same. Tonight a child would be made, a magical child who would change everything. The future was never clear and always changing. Still, she knew and already ached to hold his child in her arms. Would she have a daughter? A son?

Briella felt his power first as he ascended the hill where the dance stood, and heard her own breath hitch with anticipation. As always Daemon waited just outside the dance, for magic rules must be observed. For the demon to enter her circle of power, she must invite him in. Crossing to him, she linked hand and mind, welcoming him into the ring of stones.

“Brie, love. My eyes ache for the sight of you, darling. Kiss me, love.”

“I missed you.”

Daemon kissed her as though she were a wine of which he could never drink his fill.