Читать книгу The Celtic Knot - Shannon MacLeod - Страница 14

8

Ian had almost made it to the office door when a squat man stepped in front of him, blocking his path like a genial pickle barrel. An expensive camera dangled from a strap around his neck. “Lemme get a picture,” he said, grinning.

Ian smiled obligingly and paused for the man to take several shots. He spoke over his shoulder to his companions, a blond man and a small dark-haired woman. “Hey, this is the sword fighting guy,” he said, pointing to the blade at Ian’s side. “That was some fancy fighting y’all were doing. Missed the end, though. Did you win?”

“Aye, sir, I was fortunate. Sir Renaud is a very worthy opponent,” Ian said.

“Bet you didn’t learn how to do that around here. Where’re you from?” the man asked.

Ian beamed and gave them a short bow. “Ireland, sir, lately come to your beautiful shores.”

The second man said nothing, his lips pressed together into a firm line. Their gazes locked for the briefest moment and Ian was taken aback at the sudden blaze of hatred in the man’s eyes. Ian’s gaze darted to the woman in time to catch her staring back, but she looked away quickly. His sixth sense went into instant overdrive and the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Something is wrong here, he realized with a jolt.

The office door swung open and Dan stuck his head out. “Ian, can you come in for a minute?”

“I’m glad you enjoyed the show. Please excuse me,” Ian said, inclining his head politely. Scanning the woman again, he felt conflicting emotions of fear and anger rolling off her in waves. Forcing a smile, he turned away and followed Dan inside.

* * * *

The three park guests watched him disappear behind the closing door. “Ian. Foreign bastard,” Lucas said, spitting out the words as if they left a bitter taste in his mouth. They turned and walked quickly through the crowded street, heading for the parking lot. Once safely out of sight, their pace slowed. “I want everything you can get of the two of them together,” he said to the cameraman.

He snorted with disgust as Renaud strolled past with a giggling park visitor on each arm. “Wonder how much of that was real? Probably none of it.”

The woman glanced furtively over her shoulder, a gesture not lost on Lucas.

“Did you like watching him, honey?” he asked with deceptive calmness. “Did he make you all hot and wet?”

She waved the notion away with a nervous laugh. “No way, baby, not my type.”

“Good,” Lucas said, “because I’ve got something special I’ve been saving up just for you. C’mon, we’re out of here.”

* * * *

Once inside the office, Ian bolted to the window. “Those people I was talking to, Dan– something’s not right with them, least not with the woman, anyway.”

“Should we have security follow them?” Dan asked.

Ian searched the crowd again and shrugged. “They’re gone now. Maybe it was just my imagination.” Turning away from the window, he sprawled out on the leather couch, his long frame covering its length.

“What a great show. The crowd loved it. Although it would have been nice to have a bit of warning about the kiss,” Dan said, chuckling. “I’m rather surprised Lily agreed to that.” When there was no response to that observation, he turned to face the younger man lying there with a mischievous grin lighting his face. “You didn’t plan this with her? What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded. “What if she’d said no?”

The office was filled with Ian’s rolling laughter. “In front of all those cheering people?” he gasped, clutching his sides. “We went out to dinner last Thursday. I had a feeling she wouldn’t be too adverse to the idea.”

“Oh, she’s the one,” Dan said. “Should have put two and two together. Well, that’s what Meg is for. And speaking of my dearest wife…”

Meg stalked into the large room and stood in front of Ian, who was still giggling and more than a little pleased with himself over the evening’s events. She gave him a hard glare then aimed a vicious kick at his booted foot, smiling at the ensuing howl of pain.

“Christ Almighty, Meghan. What the feckin’ hell was that for?” Ian complained, rubbing his injury.

Meg shook a menacing finger. “Proud of yourself, are you? That poor girl could barely stand when you finished with her. And you,” she demanded, whirling on Dan, “you promise this rakehell I’ll cook dinner for him–Irish stew which takes all day to make properly, mind– without so much as a by your leave?”

Dan glanced at Ian, who looked as guilty as he felt, and lowered his head. Ian ducked his chin. “Sorry, Meg,” they mumbled in unison.

“That’s more like it, but I’m not after believing either of you. You’ll be bringing Lily, I expect?”

Ian sat up and scratched his head. “I hadn’t thought about it, I suppose I could ask…”

Meg dropped an affectionate kiss on top of Ian’s head. “Then it’s all settled. Let me know when. You, I’ll deal with later,” she purred to Dan, which brightened his spirits.

* * * *

Ian had trouble sleeping that night but for a confirmed insomniac, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. This afternoon, watching Dan and Meg, who were a perfect match, he’d suddenly felt very alone for the first time in his life. Something had stirred inside him, something new and unfamiliar that now made him feel almost…restless, but the reason for his unease danced just at the edge of his consciousness. Holding his nose in deference to the pungent herb smell, he choked down a couple of valerian root capsules then lay in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying the night’s events. With Lily’s purloined scarf pressed to his face, he closed his eyes and inhaled the intoxicating scent of her lavender, remembering the softness of her skin, her lips. More, he thought when sleep finally overtook him, her scarf still entwined in his fingers.

* * * *

He stood in an open field, hanging heavy wet sheets on a clothesline with hands red and chapped. The long farm dress hung shapeless on his slight frame, patched and worn but clean. He glanced down into the metal wash tub–the unfamiliar face peering back was female and young, but aged beyond her years. Faded blond hair was pulled back into a tight bun, the tiny escaped wisps framing his own green eyes.

His scrutiny was broken by shouting in the distance. Two young boys looking to be no more than six or eight came running and clutched at his skirts. “Ma– soldiers!”

Following their wildly pointing fingers, he squinted into the distance. Wearing the drab gray uniform of the Confederacy, three men limped into the field, their bandages bloody and feet dragging with bone deep exhaustion. One man lifted his hand in an unsure wave. The subsequent blood rush was a dizzying combination of love, happiness and relief. “It’s your daddy come home,” he cried, lifting his skirt to run to him. They met midfield in a frantic embrace, but when the returning soldier bent his head to kiss his wife the only thing Ian saw were Lily’s beautiful blue gray eyes smiling back at him.

…do you remember me…

* * * *

Lily had her own restless troubles, tossing and turning, unable to get Ian and the amazing kiss out of her mind. “That’s it,” she said, rousting the grumpy cat out of a sound sleep. “I’m just not tired. I need…” Another kiss like that one, please. She shook her head to dispel the image. “Maybe a snack to help me sleep.” Padding barefoot to the kitchen, she grabbed a bagel and flopped down on the couch for some video valium. She absently ran through the channels, stopping on the local news headlines.

“…a body was recovered from the Alafia River early this morning,” the announcer intoned. “The unidentified victim is a young woman…”

What a terrible way to die, thought Lily. How many is that now, three, four? Surfing a little longer and finding nothing of interest, she turned off the TV and stared at the cat. “You know what I want to do, Bella, and I shouldn’t. It’s an invasion of privacy, you know.” Bella stretched and yawned as if she couldn’t care less. “You’re no help at all,” scolded Lily. “You’re supposed to talk me out of it. What kind of familiar are you, anyway?”

Bella jumped off the couch and meandered into the kitchen, pausing in front of the cabinets before making a beeline for her dish. Lily lifted her hand to her throat in feigned surprise. “Dare I take this to mean you’re giving me your approval?” Grinning, she pulled a saucepan out of the same cabinet then reached for the herb jars lining her counter.

…hibiscus blossoms, jasmine, rose petals, orange blossoms, mugwort…she mentally counted off the ingredients she needed. She put the herbs in the pan and covered them with water from the glass decanter on the windowsill, turning the heat on low. The mixture simmered as she shed her clothes on the way to run a hot bath.

Naked, she returned to the kitchen and took the fragrant mixture from the stove to the bathroom. Chanting under her breath, she poured the contents into the bathtub and lit the candles before easing into the steaming, perfumed water, then lay deep in silent concentration until the water cooled. After rising and drying off, she walked slowly back to the bedroom and fell back atop the sheets. She let her body relax, her eyes closing as she took a deep, cleansing breath. “Now,” Lily whispered, feeling her spirit lift, “take me to him.”

Her first impression was a dark and lush green forest, thick with trees. This can’t be right, she thought. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as a large bed with a lone, still figure lying on it swam into view. Lily moved closer for a better look, entranced by what she saw. Ian lay on his back, his long curls tangled in sensual disarray about his face and shoulders. His broad chest was bare, his lower body draped by the heavy cotton sheet. Awake, he was roguish in his charm, but asleep, his unlined face was almost boyish. Wide shoulders and long, muscular arms were bronzed from working outdoors. The slow rise and fall of his chest assured her he was sound asleep.

She moved closer and inhaled deeply, reveling in the heady combination of herbal soap and virile man. A bud of heat formed in her chest and spread like wildfire, across her stomach then straight down to between her thighs. She gave a whimper at the unfamiliar pulsation and his head tilted slightly toward her as if in response. Teasing the dark curls on his chest, she allowed her fingertips to trace the trail of fine hair leading down to the thick nest of amber curls peeking from the top of the emerald sheets.

If he were to move, I don’t think I could stand it, Lily thought, rather hoping he would. She touched him lightly on the cheek then slowly ran her right hand down his neck. He sighed and that small sound encouraged her to be bolder, feather her fingertips along his shoulder, his chest. His skin rippled with gooseflesh when she ran her hand down the thick cords of his abdomen toward the lighter skin now visible low on his hips. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain it was going to wake him.

I sooo shouldn’t be doing this, she admonished herself, but her left hand had developed a mind of its own. It was busy running amok, gliding her fingers up the full length of his long leg, lingering on his muscular thigh.

“Lily…” Ian whispered and for the first time, Lily noticed the scarf he still held. She touched a fingertip to his lips and he gave it a soft kiss, melting her insides with his gentleness.

He’s dreaming of me, she realized, her hand continuing on its path and coming to rest–completely by accident, she later assured herself–on the marble hardness beneath the sheet. They both inhaled sharply and Ian’s eyes flew open, searching the room wildly. Lily was snatched back through space to her own room, and when she opened her eyes again, she shivered from the sudden cold. “He was dreaming of me.” She sighed and curling up under her covers, fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

* * * *

Ian awoke around ten the following morning and began making plans for a productive day, starting with clearing the pending correspondence gathering dust on his desk. He stood by the sink in his kitchen eating a piece of cold pizza but the thought of Lily’s hands on his body wouldn’t leave his mind. That was far too real to have been a dream, he mused, but what else could it have been? He found himself walking into his bedroom and falling back against the downy comforter. Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, he could still smell the faint, intoxicating blend of rose and hibiscus petals and…mugwort? Astral travel? Who in the feckin’ hell… He sniffed again and caught a hint of the familiar lavender. No…she couldn’t have…could she? I have to know, he decided.

It was only ten thirty but he called her anyway, his tone serious. “I have found I cannot wait until Wednesday to see you. I was thinking of taking a drive down to Sarasota for some art supplies and wondered if you’d like to keep me company.”

There wasn’t even a pretense of a pause. “Sounds like fun–what time?”

“One hour,” he said.

He arrived a few minutes early, comfortable in faded blue jeans and a dark gray knit pullover. Although the October sun was warm, the breeze was brisk. She opened the door, wearing snug stretch jeans and a fuzzy chenille sweater that matched the color of her eyes. Why this feeling of awkwardness, as he stood there staring at her? Color climbed her cheeks while she held his gaze, so she must have felt it too.

“Come in,” Lily said, inexplicably flustered. “I’m almost ready.”

“I’m early, I think,” he apologized, taking a seat on the couch. Having heard his voice, Bella came running and cannonballed into his lap.

Lily was ready to go in moments, and disentangling himself from the cat, Ian excused himself to the restroom before they left. Once inside, he leaned his back against the door and inhaled the heady scent of the herbal mixture from the night before, confirming his suspicions. Ah, pretty cailleach, there is much more to you than meets the eye. He chuckled. That’s one question answered. He scanned the bathroom vanity and spied Lily’s plastic package of birth control pills. And there’s another. He sighed with relief.

* * * *

It was a beautiful autumn day with fat white clouds chasing each other across the azure sky. The drive took just over an hour but lost in animated conversation with Ian, the time passed as if on wings. At the art store, she and Ian were greeted upon arrival by a distinguished gentleman with a British accent. “Mr. Kelly, always a delight, sir. We’ve gotten some new oils I think you might find interesting…” He set off at a trot toward the back of the store.

Entranced with the unfamiliar surroundings, Lily was already moving forward to browse a selection of unframed art. Ian glanced at the man then back to her, obviously torn. “Would you mind…” he asked.

“Go ahead, I’ll just look around,” she said, waving him on.

Ian tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in question. Lily laughed. “I’ll be fine unless…nothing here is dangerous, right?” she asked with a straight face.

“Shouldn’t be, but should you get cornered by some wild brushes, scream and I’ll come running.” With a snort of amusement, he turned and followed the older man down the aisle.

I should have paid more attention in art class, Lily realized as she wandered up and down the rows of pads, brushes and paints, I’m not even sure what half of this stuff is. She rounded a large display of charcoal pencils and gasped at the breathtaking mural of a seascape painted on the back wall of the store. Billowy clouds floated near the top, and the waves were dotted with bright sails of windsurfers. So realistic, she could almost hear the cries of the laughing gulls and the brown pelicans floating on the salty breeze of the Gulf.

“Can I help you find something?” asked a young woman wearing a name tag and apron.

“Just looking, thanks.” She smiled and indicated the mural. “This is magnificent. Local artist?”

The clerk pointed two aisles down where Ian stood deep in conversation with the owner. “That’s him right there, miss, the man in the gray shirt.”

Ian’s face brightened when he turned and saw her. “Ready?” he asked, tucking his new package under his arm. Outside in the parking lot, Lily commented on the seascape. “You are so talented,” she said. “Have you ever thought about seriously pursuing–”

He whipped his phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen and looked horror stricken.. “No wonder I’m near starved. It’s the afternoon already. Hungry?”

Ian just happened to know of a wonderful little outdoor cafe in the historic district near the beach. She spent the next several hours there talking and laughing with him over steaming cups of cafe con leche and pressed Cuban sandwiches. “I do love these,” he sighed happily after finishing his second one. He wiped a spot of mustard from his mouth then crumpled the napkin on his plate. “There are some interesting little shops nearby. Would milady care for a stroll in the market?” he teased.

Lily giggled. “Only if you don’t end up dueling for my honor,” she said. Ian reached for her hand and helped her up, then gave it a little squeeze as if to say May I? She gave a little squeeze back to say yes, you may.

Hand-in-hand with him, she strolled by the shops. He didn’t seem to mind when she stopped to look in the windows, and laughed at her comment about Bella not being seen dead in a frilly Halloween costume for cats a pet store had on display. If she’d been with Lucas, he would have tugged her back to the car after the art store. As if she’d drunk wine at lunch she felt giddy when Ian smiled at her, and by the way his eyes gleamed he felt the same way. She was delighted when he presented her with a fragrant nosegay from a street vendor, and when she rose up on tiptoe to give him a shy kiss on the cheek in thanks, he turned to the smiling florist and asked how much for the whole cart.

When the sun began to sink on the horizon and the air turned cooler, he slipped an arm around her. Happy for both the closeness and the warmth, she leaned into him as they made their way back to the car. Well after dark, they returned to Lily’s apartment and this time Ian accepted her offer to come inside for coffee. “Only for a moment,” he warned, “you have to go to work in the morning.”

As soon as Ian sat on the couch, Bella deposited herself on his lap and butted his hand with her head. “You shameless hussy,” Lily scolded the cat, whose adoring look announced she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed at being so forward.

Ian chuckled and obliged the purring feline. “Most men don’t seem to like cats, I’ve heard,” he said. “I think it’s because they can’t control them. I rather like that quality.” He smiled, tickling Bella under her chin. They chatted for another hour and after finishing his second cup of coffee, he gently relocated the dozing cat and stood. “It’s getting late, I should go,” he said, the reluctance apparent in his voice. He took Lily’s hands in his and kissed them one at a time.

“I enjoyed today,” she said, “you have no idea how much.”

“I know how much I enjoyed spending it with you,” he replied, pulling her gently forward and lowering his head to hers. Softly at first, one kiss, two, a dozen kisses, each one more intense than the last. Ian moved along her cheek and down to the pulse point at the hollow of her neck. She swooned from the intimate contact and when she slipped her arms around his neck to pull him closer, a blaze of electricity enveloped them. Her lips parted in a soft sigh, allowing his tongue to explore her mouth more fully, and she felt the familiar heat spreading all over her body.

…I remember…

His body vibrating like a live wire, Ian curled his fingers under her chin, forcing her eyes up to meet his. “This is not the night, mo chuisle, but you do tempt me beyond reason.”

“What does that word mean?” Lily asked in a shaky whisper.

He placed her hand in the center of his chest so she could feel the rhythmic pounding. “It means my pulse, my heartbeat,” he explained. “It’s Gaelic, or Irish as we call it. I grew up speaking it.”

“It’s beautiful. Mo chuisle,” she repeated. He blinked in surprise then deepened the kiss, crushing her to his chest and fisting his hand in her silky tresses. She moaned low in her throat, and with reluctance he pulled himself away from her again.

“You’re getting up early for work in the morning, and here’s me being selfish again,” Ian said. She walked him to the door and with one last, lingering kiss, closed it behind him. On impulse, she rose on tiptoes and watched him through the peephole. He paused and waited. When the lock clicked, he blew a kiss toward the door and walked away with a slight spring in his step.