Daring The Moon. Sherrill Quinn

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СКАЧАТЬ jeans led down to slender, booted feet, one of which tapped against the ground.

      His gaze swept back up and lingered on her face. Even from here he could see the tilt at the end of her pert nose and full lips made for kissing. He had a sudden vision of those sensuous lips wrapped around his cock, her hot, wet mouth sliding up and down his shaft, taking him deep. A growl crept from his chest and he trapped it in his throat.

      “That’d make a nice change, darlin’,” Declan responded, his grin widening when she made a low, rumbling noise deep in her throat. Setting down one of the suitcases he carried, he laughed and threw an arm around her shoulders, drawing her to his side with a quick squeeze, making Ryder stiffen.

      He was outraged Declan had disregarded his wishes, that was it. It wasn’t that he was jealous over a woman he didn’t even know, no matter how much her scent seemed to meld with his until he had a hard time separating one from the other.

      A woman he’d thought was a man, which he knew was what Declan had intended. His former good friend had known Ryder—who lived like a monk, and Declan couldn’t understand why—would never have agreed to have a woman on the island.

      Not that he’d agreed that Declan could be here, either.

      With a stealthy movement, Ryder pulled the French doors closed and leaned against the wall, out of sight, and continued to listen to their conversation.

      “Well, just tell me what we’re going to do when he leaves us standing on his doorstep, Einstein.” Footsteps crunched up the walk. “In the dark.” Her voice wavered a bit, and she cleared her throat.

      “He’s not goin’ to just leave us out in the cold, lass.” Declan’s deep voice was still cool and calm, amused.

      “Well, it’s hardly that cold,” she said. “Although I’d thought this time of year it would be.”

      “It’s the Gulf Stream,” Declan said. “It keeps the climate here fairly temperate. Except during these short late fall and winter months, when some fairly nasty gales can come in off the Atlantic. Which is why Ry won’t leave us stranded.”

      Ryder shook his head, knowing before it even began that he’d lost this battle. Declan was right. He wouldn’t deny them, not now that they were here.

      “Oh, my God. Look at this place.” The woman’s voice softened with awe. “It looks like something out of Wuthering Heights.”

      Declan laughed. “Aye. Ry’s great-grandfather Phelan built the place, hence the name Phelan’s Keep. Look over there.” Gravel crunched as they backed up a few steps. “That’s an honest-to-God tower. Used for storage now, but at one time there was a bedroom at the top.”

      “Wow.” A shadow passed by the window, and Ryder saw her walk by, her head thrown back as she looked up at the house. “Just how many rooms are there?”

      “Seven bedrooms, five and a half baths. Old Phelan was ahead of his time and gave nearly all the bedrooms their own separate bathroom. All of the stone used to build the house was quarried from the island.” Declan snorted. “Jaysus, Taite. I’m not a flippin’ realtor. It’ll be dark in another hour or so. Let’s get inside.”

      She walked back toward the front door, then the door knocker creaked as it was lifted. The clunk of brass on brass reverberated through the foyer and filtered into the study. Ryder listened for Cobb’s footsteps, frowning when they didn’t sound.

      “You were saying?” The woman’s voice held a note of wry humor.

      The knocker clanked again, and after another minute, Declan muttered, “Son of a…You wait here, Taite. I’ll walk ’round to the other side of the house and see if they’re in the kitchen. Be right back.”

      Declan walked past the study, pausing to jiggle the handle and peer through the doors. Ryder, needing a bit of time to come to grips with the emotions stirring within him, stayed in the corner, careful not to draw his friend’s keen gaze in his direction. When Declan was apparently satisfied the study was empty, he went on around the side of the house.

      Something thumped against the front door. Ryder grinned at the picture in his mind of Taite slamming her balled-up fist against the unforgiving wood. Another thump and a pithy comment. Then more thumping.

      Cobb’s footsteps sounded in the foyer, and the front door squeaked open. “Yes?” his employee asked in a bored, unwelcoming tone.

      “Hi.” Taite’s voice was bright and friendly, in direct contrast to the dark comments muttered at his door mere moments before. “My name’s Taite Gibson. I’m here with Declan—”

      “Mr. Merrick is not at home to visitors, miss, which I believe he made very clear to Mr. O’Connell when he called.” The door squeaked again, and Ryder knew Cobb was about to close it in the woman’s face.

      He sighed at Cobb’s stubborn insistence on maintaining their privacy, even after Ryder had told him not to. When he heard a thud, he cracked open the door of the study to see Taite standing with one hand planted palm-down on the front door.

      “Wait a minute. Please,” she said, her smile still in place. “We’ve traveled all day.”

      “I’m sorry, miss. But if you leave now you’ll reach St. Mary’s before dark. It’s not convenient for Mr. Merrick to have visitors at this time.” Cobb’s voice was cool and polite, but Ryder heard the underlying thread of steel. The little man didn’t look like it, but he was quite the watchdog.

      Even now, he chose to disobey Ryder’s instructions in an effort to protect him. Cobb went on, “As I have said, Mr. Merrick is not available.”

      “But we’ve come all the way from the United States to talk to—”

      Without a word or even a change of expression, the short, balding man closed the door. Ryder fully opened the study door and leaned one shoulder against the sturdy frame.

      When Cobb turned, he caught sight of Ryder standing in the doorway of the study. At Ryder’s raised eyebrow, Cobb said, “This isn’t a good time, you said so yourself.”

      “I also said they’d have to at least stay the night. The sun will be fully set in another hour—I don’t want them trying to get back to St. Mary’s in the dark.”

      He wasn’t sure why but, even knowing he couldn’t have her, he needed to meet this woman. Nodding toward the front door, he said, “We’ll just have to be sure the basement door stays locked at all times to avoid awkward questions. Let her in.”

      The older man sighed and turned back to the door. Pursing his lips, he swung open the door and stepped back as Taite’s raised fist nearly caught him on the nose. “Come in, miss,” he said in a long-suffering tone. He waited until she’d picked up her suitcases and walked into the house, then he went out and collected the other two suitcases Declan had left on the small portico.

      Coming back inside, Cobb set the suitcases down and closed the door, shutting out the cool November wind.

      Ryder could see the flecks of gold in her dark eyes, could smell her beguiling scent so much more clearly. Her lips were slightly parted, showing small, white teeth, and he clenched his fists against the desire that slammed into him with the force of a gale.

      God, СКАЧАТЬ