Midnight's Promise (15 page)

It wasn’t enough. His body wanted the Druid, needed her.

The Druid’s chamber was steps away. He could stand before her and have her against the wall as he plundered her mouth with a kiss as fiery as the blood that pumped in his veins.

The thought appealed to him so much that he took a step toward her before he realized it. He drew up short. With a growl, he straightened and turned away. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt such desire.

He’d been happy being dead inside. The … feelings … the Druid stirred only enraged him. If he let himself feel, if he gave in, he’d have to confront everything he’d done. And it would destroy him.

“Malcolm.”

He squeezed his eyes closed as he came to a halt. To stay so near her wasn’t smart, but he couldn’t seem to put any distance between them.

“Thank you,” she said. “I had a cup of coffee. I had no idea I needed the caffeine. I noticed you brought tea as well. Would you like a cup?”

Malcolm remained silent. It was the only choice he had if he wanted to stay in control of his body, even though his god, Daal, raged at him to take the Druid.

“I was getting ready to make a fried egg sandwich. Won’t you join me? Please.”

He opened his eyes as he shook his head.

“Are you angry that I was in your space yesterday? I thought you might like the opening larger. I’ll have the stones return it to the way it was if you’d prefer.”

Did she have to be so damned nice? Malcolm took a deep breath and slowly released it. “It’s fine.”

He hardly recognized his voice. It came out hoarse and croaky. Malcolm willed her to return to her chamber and leave him in peace. The irony didn’t go unnoticed by him. As long as he stayed in Cairn Toul, he’d never know peace from her—or the ghosts that remained.

He looked down at his hand. Twice he’d touched her, and twice she’d been branded upon him. Her softness, her femininity called to him. Her allure beckoned like a siren.

Malcolm lifted his gaze to find her standing in front of him. When had she moved? That’s when he discovered he’d been the one to turn and walk to her.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

He was famished, but it wasn’t food he wanted. It was her. Her lips soft and open beneath his, her hands clutching him. Her curves pressed against his body, her moans of pleasure filling his ears.

Her body cushioning him as he filled her again and again.

The images only made his desire ratchet up several notches until sweat popped out on his forehead. His gaze dropped to her mouth when her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips.

His muscles seized to keep him in place and not drag her against him.

“I’m going to start breakfast. You’re welcome to join me,” she said slowly before she walked back into her rooms.

Malcolm watched the sway of her hips in her jeans that clung to her legs. Unable to help himself, he followed. He stayed by the door as she listened to Linkin Park coming through her laptop.

She didn’t seem bothered by the lack of necessities most took for granted. He hated to admit it, but perhaps she did belong in Cairn Toul. There was no denying her connection to the stones.

His gaze never left her as she went about cracking the eggs on the electric skillet and began to fry them. She glanced up at him, a smile in her eyes.

Malcolm was too busy noticing how her black sweater dipped into a V, giving him just a glimpse of the swells of her breasts. She looked fresh as a summer’s rain and as innocent as the dawn.

She was temptation and excitement, enticement and seduction. She was beauty and pleasure.

And she could never be his.

“How does this generator work? I’ve never heard one so quiet.”

He shrugged. “It’s a new design.” She didn’t need to know that it was the power of his lightning that would keep it running for years before he had to zap it again.

“You’re an amazing man, Malcolm Munro,” she said as she glanced at him. “I’ve been thinking. Do you know who betrayed Deirdre? The stones know who it is, but they refuse to tell me.”

Malcolm found that curious. The stones hated him, so why not just tell the Druid he was to blame? “Does it matter?”

“Why won’t anyone tell me?” the Druid said with a roll of her blue eyes. “It’s not like I’m asking for the crown jewels.”

“Leave it, Druid.”

She threw down the plastic fork and faced him, anger sparking in her eyes. “Why? What’s the big deal? It’s just a name.”

“It’s more than that.”

“Bollocks.”

Malcolm wanted distance from her, and he now had the perfect reason. He took a step toward her. “You really want to know who betrayed that evil bitch? It was me, Druid.”

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

It was me, Druid.

His words echoed over and over in Evie’s mind long after he left. She could only stare at the doorway in shock. Everything began to make sense now.

Why he’d been so adamant about her leaving the mountain, why he hadn’t wanted to share the story of what happened to Deirdre, and why he hated the stones so much.

But most especially why he feared she would turn
drough
.

It was the burning smell that reminded her of the eggs. Evie quickly saved as much of them as she could before putting them on a piece of bread she’d toasted on the same skillet.

She ate her breakfast without tasting it. Her mind was too full of Malcolm. As usual his face had been barren of any emotion. His voice, however, conveyed what his face could not—satisfaction and anger.

After the meal, Evie busied herself with cleaning. It didn’t take long, and before she knew it, she stood in front of Deirdre’s wardrobe.

Evie flung open the doors and began to yank down the clothes that hung there. She gathered them in a pile and walked out of her rooms into another one farther down the hall. Evie used her magic to build a fire and tossed Deirdre’s clothes on the flames.

She watched them burn down to ash. She returned to her room and hung up her clothes. There was no need to live out of a suitcase anymore.

A scant fifteen minutes later, and she was done. Evie let out a long breath. She’d been so wound up when she woke that she had dared to try the spell J sent her.

It was a simple spell to clear her mind, but it hadn’t worked. All she could think about was Cairn Toul. Images of a woman of uncommon beauty with eerie white eyes and white hair that hung to the ground filled her mind. Evil laughter had then reverberated in her mind.

That’s when she stopped the spell and decided to go for a walk. Only to find Malcolm in the corridor. He’d looked to be in pain.

Evie needed to lose herself for a while. Anything to get Malcolm out of her mind as well as the woman she’d seen from the spell. She opened her laptop and pulled up the code for a new software idea she had.

Within minutes she was focused solely on the coding.

*   *   *

Malcolm shed his shirt and ran through the opening of his chamber outside the mountain. He jumped, the air whooshing around him as he fell. When he landed, he immediately jumped across the valley onto the opposite mountain.

He pushed his body hard, running faster, climbing higher, jumping longer. The more distance he put between himself and the Druid didn’t ease his jumbled mind. If anything, it made it worse.

After hours of punishing himself, Malcolm turned back to Cairn Toul. He stared at the imposing mountain for several minutes. If anyone had told him he’d want to return there one day he’d have called them a liar.

But the truth was he wanted to return. For the Druid. She needed protecting from herself. Her curiosity was going to get her killed, especially in that mountain.

His gaze then turned east toward MacLeod Castle and Larena. Some emotion he couldn’t quite name niggled at him. He pushed back his wet hair and blinked through the rain. It was then he realized what that emotion was—guilt.

A memory of him and Larena hundreds of years before sitting in the forest after he watched her train suddenly sprung up. He’d been but a lad of twelve and he’d known the importance of a vow. He made Larena a promise that day to always watch over her. She’d smiled, her smoky blue eyes filling with tears as she thanked him.

He broke that vow when he walked away from MacLeod Castle. Each time he left Larena, he broke it. Malcolm could just imagine the stern look of disapproval his father would give him if he were standing there.

Malcolm faced Cairn Toul. He’d made another promise to a Druid. Larena was a Warrior. She could take care of herself. Not to mention she had Fallon.

The Druid had only him.

His decision made, Malcolm started back to the mountain. The sun couldn’t break through the dense clouds, which bathed the land in a wet, gloomy atmosphere that fit his mood.

By the time he stood in the entrance of his chamber, over half a day had passed. He sought out the Druid’s magic to make sure she wasn’t hurt. Then he breathed a sigh when he realized she was in her room.

He tried to sit in the dark, but memories he hoped never to revisit wouldn’t leave him. Over and over he saw Logan’s face flash surprise when Deirdre ordered Malcolm to take Duncan’s head. Worse was Duncan’s fury over Malcolm’s betrayal right before he killed Duncan.

Betrayer.

Murderer.

That’s what he was. He’d betrayed those at the castle, regardless of his reasons. Then he’d deceived Deidre.

Malcolm walked to the opening and out onto the ledge to let the rain fall upon him. He hung his head, shame and remorse making it difficult for him to breathe his chest was so tight.

Duncan had been a friend. He’d been there when Malcolm needed him, and in return Malcolm killed him. Then there was Ian, Duncan’s twin. Ian had forgiven him because Malcolm had done it to protect Larena.

That wasn’t an excuse. Ian should’ve exacted his revenge and taken his head, not called him friend.

Malcolm had disgraced his family, his clan, and himself. He’d done the very thing his father had told him never to do.
Never betray a friend, my son.

The scenery blurred, and Malcolm blinked. That was when he felt something besides the rain drop onto his cheek.

*   *   *

Evie was going to regret it, she knew, but she had to see Malcolm. She wanted him to know she didn’t care that he’d betrayed Deirdre. From all he’d told her, Deirdre deserved what she’d gotten.

She slowly walked into the darkened room with a torch in her hand and waited for Malcolm’s bellow for her to leave. When that didn’t come, she continued onward until she came to the opening.

Very little light came through with the low-hanging clouds and the rain, but it was enough for her to see the silhouette of a man.

Malcolm.

She stood looking at him for a moment before she crept closer. His head hung down to his chest, his blond hair hiding his face.

The glow of the torch cast his skin in a golden flush. She set the torch on a rock and took in the scars on Malcolm’s right shoulder and down his back and side.

Scar tissue so thick it appeared mangled met her gaze. It looked as if someone had taken a blade and cut strips from his neck, down his back, and onto his side.

She couldn’t imagine the pain he’d suffered. Without thinking, she reached out and touched him.

He moved so quickly that it took her a second to realize he had her wrist in an iron grip while droplets of cool rain fell upon her from his hair and body.

“Doona,” he ground out.

Evie swallowed and lifted her chin. She met his blue gaze, surprised to find they no longer looked at her dispassionately. There was anger there now.

For reasons she’d probably never understand, she wanted to touch his scars. She wanted him to know they only enhanced the man he was. Evie had never been able to say what people needed to hear. But in this, she could show Malcolm.

She tried to lift her hand to his face, but he held her fast, almost daring her to try again. She did. And this time he allowed it.

Slowly, she traced the pad of her finger down a scar that went the length of his cheek to his bearded jaw and then to his neck.

All the while, she kept her gaze locked with his. The anger faded, replaced with … desire.

Her heart began a slow steady drumming as his head gradually lowered. The rain that covered him was at odds with the heat coming off him.

She swept her fingers along his beard when one of his hands came to rest at her waist. His eyes lowered as he pulled her hips against him. Her lungs seized when his lips met hers.

The kiss was fleeting, but heady. Before she could open her eyes, his mouth was on hers again. A low moan rumbled in his chest before she found herself between a wall and Malcolm.

He kissed as he did everything—full throttle. He plundered her mouth, his tongue dueling with hers. He stole her breath and made her ache for more. She shook from the impact of his kiss, of the passion he allowed her to see.

With just a kiss he took, he claimed.

He conquered.

A moan left her when he deepened the kiss until she didn’t know where he ended and she began. Heat infused her when his hips rocked against her and she felt his arousal.

Evie lifted a leg and wrapped it around his. Malcolm’s large hand grabbed her thigh and lifted her leg higher at the same time he rocked his hard length into her sex.

She clutched his thick shoulders as hunger nestled low in her belly. His beard scraped her face as he kissed her harder, but she didn’t care. Evie wound her arms around his neck trying to get as close to him as she could.

The kiss had begun fiery. It had gone beyond that to sizzling. And she never wanted it to end.

His hand tightened on her leg as his hips continued to tease her with his large cock. When his hips rotated against her, Evie felt a rush of moisture between her legs.

She’d never been so close to orgasm from a simple kiss before. And if she were like this with a kiss, what would it be like to make love to Malcolm?

The kiss ended as suddenly as it began. Evie blinked up at Malcolm. His breathing was as ragged as her own, his eyes burning with a longing that made her heart miss a beat.