Claire Delacroix (9 page)

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Authors: The Moonstone

BOOK: Claire Delacroix
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“I have been thinking of you ever since that day,” Viviane confided with that smile that could warm him right to his toes. “Though I never imagined that I would see you again, and certainly not here!”

Ah, she did not expect a God-fearing mortal to be able to visit her dark domain. That was telling!

Yet instead of feeling triumphant at this hint of proof, Niall was disconcertingly aware of the fullness of Viviane’s breasts pressed against him. Her auburn hair was loose, obviously designed to ensnare a man in unruly desire within its tangles, yet her gaze was as clear and golden as he recalled.

And as trusting. Niall’s heart clenched.

“I
knew
you were a gallant man,” she breathed, “a true knight if ever there was!”

Viviane stretched to her toes and granted Niall his second kiss in quick succession. This one was markedly more pleasant, though her lips barely brushed across his own. He told himself sternly that it should
not
be welcome in the least.

’Twas only that ’twas from a woman that reassured him that matters were as they should be. Aye, that was the way of it.

And he must remain vigilant against temptation, lest he fail to complete his task once again. Niall thrust the witch a discreet distance from his side and resolved to keep his thoughts firmly fixed upon his responsibilities.

Sadly, his gaze strayed over the witch’s alluring legs, which he could not help but note were bare to mid-thigh and beguilingly curved. Her kirtle was craftily constructed to display her charms - which were copious - and indeed, there was markedly little of that garment. She wore some flimsy manner of footwear which left her feet nigh fully exposed to view, and her toenails were crimson.

Blood red.

Niall swallowed, certain he had never seen any feminine frippery as alluring as those crimson-tipped nails. He stubbornly lifted his gaze, only to note the wisp of naught that flowed around her hips. Her kirtle was not only short, but ’twas uncommonly thin. A man could tear that garment off with his teeth, of that Niall had no doubt, and he felt an unruly desire to volunteer.

Of course, that was
not
why he had come, regardless of how delightful the legs of his prey might be.

This time, he must keep his mind upon his task.

With an effort, Niall forced himself to consider the remainder of the company.

A man there was, besides the one who had kissed him so fully, and another small woman. Niall scanned his surroundings hastily - though he did not intend to linger long, he was curious as to where Viviane had fled.

But Niall could not name this place. Indeed, ’twas so perfectly wrought that it could not be real. It certainly was unlike any corner of England he had ever seen.

Niall’s eyes narrowed. The archbishop was right - Viviane had fled beyond the beyond. And this place could not be all that it pretended to be. Nay, this was but an alluring guise cast over a the darkness of the netherworld. ’Twas intended to deceive the unwary.

Just as Viviane’s beauty hid her traitorous heart.

Well, Niall was wary enough for two. He skeptically surveyed the sky of vivid blue, the water as radiant as a glinting sapphire. The land stretched in great curves around them, though Niall could not guess whether ’twas a morass of islands on all sides or some single jut of land that twisted like a serpent.

The trees that clung to the land were starkly drawn, their boughs drawn to grow in one direction by an evidently strong and prevailing wind. They gripped the veined grey of bare rock with great presence and no small measure of stamina. Seabirds cried overhead as the waves lapped at the sides of their craft.

For they five were aboard what was clearly a ship, though ’twas unlike any vessel Niall had yet seen. ’Twas all wrought of gleaming white, the glimmer of the sunlight upon it so bright as to make a man wince.

“You know him?” demanded that second man. He was as sparse and bedraggled as an unkept dog, his manner little better. Niall assumed him a servant or a beggar of some kind, though his tone was most haughty.

“Well, sort of,” Viviane acknowledged, with a sly smile to Niall. Her grip tightened on his arm and her eyes glowed. His heart skipped a beat, though Niall told himself ’twas only because it had been overlong since a woman regarded him with such welcome.

Save his sister.

And Viviane herself on that fateful morn.

Niall scowled, hoping the witch would be dissuaded by the fierce expression that had sent warriors fleeing from before him in the past.

But Viviane was unaffected.

“He
did
save my life,” she purred and nestled yet closer to Niall. “Just like Gawain, from King Arthur’s court, who so nobly saved the besieged lady in his adventures.”

A murmur of appreciation echoed across the deck. The drenched man nodded and the other woman smiled. The bedraggled man folded his arms across his chest and looked displeased.

Niall felt the back of his neck heat beneath their admiration and felt the need to correct the witch’s false conclusion. “’Twas naught...” he began to protest, but the witch interrupted him.

“You see, he’s so wonderfully modest.” Viviane sighed and treated him to a smile so warm it could nigh melt the bones of a man unprepared against her allure. Even Niall’s resistance wavered. “He
did
save my life, he did!”

“And now you’ve saved his,” the tiny dark-haired woman declared with approval. She clasped her hands together and sighed rapturously. “Perfectly closing the circle and sealing your entwined fates. How wonderfully romantic!”

The man who had hauled Niall from the ocean cleared his throat pointedly. “
Some
others were involved,” he commented with a sharp glance to that woman.

They were a pair, Niall immediately concluded, for the woman’s eyes widened and she scampered to the man’s side to make amends. “Oh, of course! You were
heroic
, Derek, just the way you dove over the rail...” She sighed as though much enamored of the man’s deeds and Derek exchanged an amused glance with Niall.

He winked and Niall knew not what to do.

In ordinary circumstance, Niall would have assumed they shared a manly jest over a woman’s approval, but still he could feel the imprint of this Derek’s kiss.

’Twas a situation rather outside of his experience.

And one of little import. Niall had a mission to fulfill. As Matthew insisted, ’twould be prudent to see matters resolved with all haste. Sooner begun, sooner finished.

Niall caught Viviane tightly around the waist, refusing to consider the price she would pay upon their return. ’Twas sympathy for her that had led him awry in the beginning and Niall was not a man to make the same error twice.

Niall closed his free hand around the moonstone pendant and took a deep breath, trying to compose a verse to wish them back where they belonged.

“Oooh, you’re soaked and cold,” Viviane complained as she pulled away from him with a shiver. Niall was temporarily disconcerted by the bold display of her nipples, taut beneath the thin and now wet cloth of her chemise.

Nay! He would not be tempted! Niall gritted his teeth and made to wish.

But the witch crowed with delight before he could summon a verse to his lips.

“You brought it!” She pried the moonstone free from a startled Niall’s fingers as her eyes widened in awe. “Oh, you wonderful man! I just knew that you had a good heart, I just knew that you were a true hero.”

She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek yet again. Niall caught a disconcerting whiff of the scent of her skin, more feminine than anything he had smelled in years. The wind and sun had filled her hair with the smell of outdoors, yet a perfume reminiscent of the finest flowers teased his nostrils. His eyes closed, his hands fell of their own accord to the neat indent of her waist.

How long had it been since he tasted a woman fully?

Niall inclined his head to kiss her fully, his eyes drifted closed before he consider the wisdom of his impulse. But Viviane lifted the chain of the pendant over his head with nimble fingers and proudly dropped it over her own.

Niall gasped but she had turned away to show the others.

“You see? Isn’t this just perfect? First, he saved my life, then he returned my pendant, then, oh -” she turned a shining glance upon Niall “- you show up just when I’m thinking about you and wondering about you, almost as though you heard my thoughts!” Viviane rewarded him with yet another dizzying kiss.

Clearly she had discerned that he could be twisted to her will in this way, for this kiss fell leisurely upon his mouth. Niall tried to fight his response, knowing ’twas no coincidence that her soft lips so adeptly coaxed his response, that her tongue nudged against his own lips.

But he lost. His fingers tightened, gathering a fistful of that bewitchingly sheer cloth and brushing against the ripe curve of her buttocks.

She fit perfectly against him, her lips soft and alluring beneath his own. Aye, his blood was roaring, though he fought to remind himself that she sought only to manipulate him.

Charm or nay, he
wanted
. Niall might have tightened his grip upon the temptress’s waist, slanted his mouth possessively across hers, intent on thoroughly sampled all she offered.

But Viviane danced suddenly out of his grip, taking her talisman distinctly out of his reach. Niall instinctively snatched after her and the pendant, and she laughed.

Zounds, she was more unpredictable than Majella!

Viviane’s cheeks flushed prettily as she shook a finger at him, clearly savoring his frustration. “Not in front of everyone!” she chided, mischief in her eyes. Her kirtle lifted in the breeze, as though ’twould tease him with a greater glimpse of her slender thighs. Their gazes locked and a heat rose between them, a heat that Niall longed to turn to his own advantage.

How he wished he could show this sorceress the fire she awakened!

And how he wished he yet had a grip upon that talisman. He took a deep breath. Somehow Niall must win it back from her, and with all haste. ’Twas clear enough that he could not trust even his own response in this woman’s presence.

But Viviane seemed intent on reminding him that ’twas she who would call the tune. She held the pendant out for the perusal of the others, the chain dangling from her fingertips, the stone winking in the sunlight.

“Look? You see?” She was as delighted as a child with an unexpected sweet. “My mother gave this to me, it was a token from my father, but I lost it on the way here. I was so disappointed.” Viviane turned a dewy smile upon Niall. “But my very own knight brought it back to me. Just like an old tale of lovers true.”

It seemed that ’twould be churlish to snatch at the woman in this particular moment and be gone. Niall folded his arms across his chest and resolved to await his chance.

“What a guy,” the disreputable-looking one said sourly. “You should have told me you’d lost it - I would have found you another one.”

“But not
this
one, Monty,” Viviane insisted. “You couldn’t have brought this one. He had it, he kept it safe for me. There’s a special bond between us...”

Monty of the poor grooming grimaced. “So, does
he
have a name?”

Viviane blushed so demurely that Niall felt his own flesh heat.

A maidenly temptress. ’Twas an intoxicating combination. He resolved in that moment that he would have one thorough kiss from this woman before he returned her to the archbishop.

’Twas only fair, after she had kindled such a flame within him.

One kiss. Just the prospect tightened his chausses.

“Well, I…” Viviane hesitated, casting a glance Niall’s way through her lashes.

“I am Sir Niall of Malloy,” he declared with resolve, “and I am pledged to the service of the archbishop of Cantlecroft.”

“Niall!” Viviane echoed with a smile that made Niall’s belly warm. “The champion of champions. You see, it suits him perfectly. My champion, too.”

But Monty rolled his eyes. “And who is this archbishop? And where is
Cantlecroft
? I’ve never heard of it! And where the hell did you even come from?” He snapped his fingers. “People don’t just like pop out of thin air, you know.”

The other couple eyed him with undeniable curiosity and Niall knew none would let him evade this question. “The witch brought me to her side with the power of her magic,” he said slowly, feeling the explanation was hopelessly inane, but not wanting to reveal the truth of her token when it was out of his own grip.

“Magic! What a bunch of crap!” Derek flung out his hands in obvious exasperation and Niall warmed to the man immediately. The world could not have enough men of good sense! “Witches! Circles closing and entwined fates.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Jesus! Spare me the rest of this. It’s all a little too familiar for my comfort level.”

“But Derek…” the tiny woman protested.

“But
nothing
, Paula. I tell you, when the talk turns to magic, angels and horoscopes and who knows what kind of garbage can’t be far behind.” He made a sweeping gesture with one hand and glared at the small woman. “I’m over my threshold for this stuff for the year, maybe for the decade.”

He wrung out his sodden chemise as he strode to an opening that Niall had not noticed. There were stairs leading below the deck and he halted there to shake a finger at his woman. “Didn’t we make a deal for this trip? No mumbo jumbo?”

She shuffled her feet. “Oh, but Derek, this just
happened
…”

Derek arched a skeptical brow. “You mean you’re not going to insist that it’s fate or something similar?”

The little woman flushed guiltily and Niall suspected these two knew each other too well to be fooled. “Well…” she began tentatively, flicking a glance to her man.

“Fate!” Viviane breathed and danced toward Niall again, her eyes shining. “That’s exactly what it is! You followed me here because we’re destined to be together. In all the old tales, it’s exactly that way – the people who are destined to be together forever find each other over and over again, despite the odds against them.” She smiled in a way that truly did make Niall feel like a champion. “Oh, Paula, isn’t this just perfect?”

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