Mindy smiled and rubbed her hands together.
But Aisley said, “It’s a bad idea.”
“Did I no’ just go over this with you?” Jason ground out angrily.
Aisley rolled her eyes. “Think. You’re the mastermind. Warriors can feel Druid magic. He’ll be able to tell the difference between a
mie
and
drough
. Do you really want this Warrior to know there are two
droughs
there?”
“Ugh. As much as I hate to say it, she’s got a point,” Mindy said with a pout of her red lips.
Jason hated when he made a mistake. He hated it even more when it was pointed out to him. Despite that, Aisley had helped him from alerting the MacLeods.
“Fine.” He turned to the two Warriors. “Go. Watch the Warrior, but doona let him know you’re there. Stay hidden and out of sight.”
With a jerk of his head, he sent everyone out. As Aisley began to walk past him, he grasped her arm.
“Oh, no. No’ you.”
When the door shut behind the last Druid, Aisley jerked her arm out of his hold, her lip peeled back in a sneer. “Aye, I know. I spoke out of turn.”
“You wanted this, remember? You wanted control of your life. I gave it to you!”
“Oh, yes, you’ve given me a fine life!” Her chest heaved and her eyes glared daggers.
Jason smiled as his anger evaporated. “Everything has a price. You know that better than most.”
“I don’t need to be reminded of what I’ve done, Jason. I’m here. I do what you ask, and I’ve saved your ass more times than I can remember. I don’t need you breathing down my neck and trying to put me in my place.”
“But that’s exactly what you need.” He took a step toward her, backing her against the wall. “You never knew your place, no’ before. You will by the time I’m done with you.”
Aisley watched him walk out of the basement. How she hated him. If she could get away with it, she’d plunge a knife through his heart.
She closed her eyes and gripped the wall. The scar on her left side was six months old, but it still hurt. Just as she could still feel the blade slicing into her skin slowly, relentlessly.
That had been Jason’s response when she’d tried to leave. He’d told her it was just a taste of what he’d do to her if she even thought of leaving him again.
Aisley held out her hand in front of her. The black magic within her was like another entity. She could sense it flowing through her and gradually taking her soul.
This was her life. It was the one she had chosen. For better or worse, she needed to make the most of it.
“Before Hell claims me.”
CHAPTER
NINE
Two days later, and Arran traded in his shovel and put his strength to use. The digging now consisted of small spades and other tools he couldn’t care less about.
He and a few others carted the extra dirt away from the site. It wasn’t exactly a fun job, but it continued to maintain his activity as well as keep him near Ronnie.
Which in itself was torture.
She had no idea of her allure. The way her jeans molded to her ass, the way her shirt stretched across her breasts as she reached for something. Or the way she would smile in abandon and happiness as she dug in the earth.
All of it was pure, exquisite, amazing agony. He couldn’t look his fill of her. And at night when he tried to sleep, all he saw was her. Her smile, her hazel eyes, her wheat-colored hair that teased him with its length.
He dreamed of the different ways he would make love to her, teasing her body until she screamed his name as she peaked, her hands clutching him, urging him over her.
What was worse was that he had no effect on her. It would have helped his ego had he caught her staring at him a few times, but as he’d been warned—she had one love, and that was archeology.
Thankfully, Pete had left the day before to finalize something in Edinburgh. He’d told Arran about it, but Arran hadn’t been listening. He’d caught a glimpse of Ronnie through the tent flap and had been watching her.
He was always watching her.
Watching and wanting. He’d never felt such suffering before. His body blazed with need, and the only way he could keep himself from finding Ronnie and claiming her lips was to work himself as hard as he could. And even that was never enough.
Not after touching her, holding her … feeling her feminine curves and beckoning softness.
He put to memory every little move, laugh, and smile she had. Every time she smoothed back a strand of hair behind her ear, every time she bent to look at Andy’s clipboard, every time she searched the site, eagerly hoping to find something. She was an astonishing woman.
What Deirdre had done to him when she unbound his god had been horrifying. But what Ronnie was doing to him, unintentional though it was, cut him even deeper.
Arran didn’t want to desire her. He didn’t want to feel the unquenchable hunger when she was near.
But damned if he knew how to stop it.
There were other, willing, women, but he’d given his word to Ronnie not to distract the others. If only he’d known what he’d be going through now, he would’ve reconsidered that promise.
Arran stood in his tent after another long day and groaned as he heard Ronnie’s sweet voice. His control was holding on by a thread, a very thin thread that was about to snap.
He grabbed a change of clothes and exited the tent. He’d barely reached the parked vehicles when Andy ran up to him.
“Arran? Dude, you’re not, like, leaving or anything? Are you? We need you.”
“Nay.”
Andy’s tall body tripped and ran to catch back up with Arran’s long strides. Arran knew he was being rude, but he had to get away, to get a better leash on the desire and the hunger hounding him.
He’d never experienced anything so clear or intense before. The yearning, the need continued to grow, never abating. It was driving him mad. If he didn’t get away now, he’d find Ronnie and kiss her.
And then God help them both. One taste, and he knew he’d be done for.
“Where are you going?” Andy asked breathlessly as he jogged to keep up.
“For a swim.”
“A swim? The closest loch is a mile away.”
“I’ll be here in the morn.”
Thankfully, Andy drew to a halt and let Arran continue on his own. When he was far enough away from camp so the others wouldn’t see him, he broke into a run.
If he wanted, he could use the speed his god gave him and be at the loch in a matter of seconds, but Arran was content to continue to exert his body.
He slowed to a walk when the loch came into view. Arran drew in a breath and simply stared at the sight before him. When he reached the loch, he squatted at the water’s edge. Many had built homes around the water. It seemed like only yesterday that this loch had been largely left alone. There hadn’t been any docks or boats tied up, bobbing languidly.
There hadn’t been restaurants and homes lining the coast centuries ago. Or roads where the sound of cars could be heard even through the line of trees. It wasn’t that he hated this modern time, just that he missed how things once were.
Arran kicked off his boots and shed his pants before he dived into the water. The cove was secluded, affording him the privacy he desperately needed at the moment.
Anything was likely to set him off, he was in such a state. One wrong look, one wrong word, and his desire could turn into a rage. He was that close to the edge.
Arran couldn’t remember being so torn since his god was first unbound. The fury and anger simmered the longer his passion went unquenched.
He surfaced and shook his head. The water was cool and dark in the evening sky. The sky was still light, giving off a golden hue upon the clouds.
It could be a magical night. He could picture Ronnie in the water with him. He could even picture her smiling before he pulled her into his arms for a kiss.
“Shite,” he grumbled at his fantasy.
Arran dived under again and swam beneath the surface, hoping his need would ease even a little.
* * *
Ronnie shut off her car and got out. She leaned against the door and looked across the clear, smooth water of the loch. When Andy told her where Arran had gone, she hadn’t believed it.
She still didn’t believe it, but at least Arran’s Range Rover was still parked at the site.
A local told her of this isolated cove in the loch, and Ronnie thought it was where Arran might have gone. But it looked like she’d guessed wrong.
She was getting back in her car when she noticed the discarded boots and jeans in a pile by the shore. Ronnie softly closed her car door and walked to the clothes.
They were definitely Arran’s. She’d been trying to ignore those jeans that had conformed to his ass all day. And had failed. Miserably.
Ignoring Arran proved impossible. He was everywhere. Always willing to help, always there when she needed someone. And everyone liked him. The women, of course, but even the men wanted to be his friend.
People were continually calling out his name. She could hear his voice no matter where she was on the site, and it had come to a point that when she didn’t hear him, she searched for him.
Now, she’d come out to the loch. Why? She knew better than to be alone with him. She tended to forget everything when he was near, and she was definitely tempting herself this night.
Particularly when he put her so off-kilter. He made her think of long, hot nights, of pleasure, and of passion so intense, she’d never forget a moment in his arms.
Her gaze scanned the water. The only movement was the water itself. She couldn’t help her disappointment. Though she knew she needed to keep her distance, she wanted to see him.
Ronnie put her hands on her hips and sighed. “Timing, as they say, is everything. Maybe it’s for the better. I just might give in to him.”
She was about to return to her car when a head broke the surface. Her lungs seized as she recognized Arran’s long, dark hair slicked to his head. He laughed, the sound carrying over the water and slamming against her.
Ronnie’s feet were glued to the ground as she watched him tread water. His long, muscular arms spread the water as he turned and began to swim toward her.
She knew the moment he saw her because his easy stroke faltered. He dived beneath the water again, and she looked around with her heart hammering in her chest. Did she leave? Or did she tempt herself and stay?
Stay.
She dropped her hands from her hips and bit her lip as indecision warred. Before she could make a choice, Arran broke the water again, this time close enough she could see his golden eyes.
“How did you find me?”
Ronnie shrugged, hating the nervousness that ran rampant through her. “I asked a local if there was a spot on the loch nearby that was private. He sent me here.”
“Why did you come?”
She swallowed and looked away. There was a hard edge to his voice she wasn’t used to. It should’ve given her pause, but all she could think about was that the only thing stopping her from seeing him in all his wonderful glory was the water. “Andy thought you might be leaving.”
“I told him I was no’.”
“Yeah. Look, I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You obviously want to be alone. I’ll see you back at the site.”
She turned and had taken two steps to the car when he said, “Ronnie.”
She kept her back to him and licked her lips. His voice had been rough, clipped. It was a side of Arran she hadn’t seen before. What else did he keep hidden?
“I doona mean to sound so … harsh. I just … it’s just that … I needed a cold swim.”
“Like I said, it’s all right.” She wanted to turn and look at him, wanted to gaze into his golden eyes. She wanted to see every wonderful muscle. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didna.”
She knew that for the lie it was, but she was happy he’d said it anyway. “I’m glad you’re okay. You’ve become quite the asset at the site. I don’t want to lose you.”
“The water feels good. Join me.”
Ronnie was so surprised at the change of topic that she turned around. His hair was slicked back away from his face. He stood still in the shallow water where it covered him from the waist down.
He appeared like a statue, but she could feel the heat of his gaze as it held her.
“The last thing I thought to bring with me to Scotland was a swimsuit.”
“Who said anything about wearing a swimsuit?”
The deep resonance of his voice sent a tremor through her, firing her blood until she had to clench her legs together. And just like that, the fire took her. A fire that only he seemed able to enflame.
He was offering her the very thing she’d only imagined in her fantasies. No sane woman would turn away a man like Arran.
“The water will soothe you,” he urged.
She shifted weight from one foot to the other as her gaze took in the beads of water dotting his shoulders and abdomen. Her hands itched to run over all his muscles, down his chest and over his washboard abs.
Her legs grew weak just thinking about it. She moved so that she was leaning back against the hood of her car. It wasn’t wise for her to be so taken with a guy. She had to keep her head, to stay in charge. Of everything.
It scared her how much she wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted to know the sensation of his lips moving over hers. It’s as if Max had never happened, that she hadn’t learned a valuable lesson.
Arran erased the pain of the past. He promised new memories, pleasure and ecstasy for as long as she wanted them. And did she ever want them.
He was right there before her, waiting.
“What are you doing out here? Really.”
His brow furrowed at her question, but his gaze never left hers. “I’m no’ sure you’d like the truth.”
“I want the truth.”
“You.”
Her stomach fluttered. When she was able to pull in a breath, it was uneven and her chest was heaving. Her breasts swelled, her nipples ached. A hunger, deep and insistent, rose within her. A hunger for Arran MacCarrick that she knew would never leave.
All she wanted was Arran. His hands, his mouth, his body. There wasn’t a part of him she didn’t want to touch and kiss and put to memory.