Rogue on the Rollaway. Shannon MacLeod

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СКАЧАТЬ I found out she was no woman at all, but one of the sidhe, the Tuatha De Danann. Hell hath no fury like a scorned fae,” he laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “She placed an enchantment upon me.”

      Colleen sat up. “Fairies? You were enchanted…by fairies?” She shook her head in disbelief and laughed. “Are you on medication for this?” When she saw the raw hurt from her ill-timed laughter flicker in his eyes, she was immediately ashamed of herself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” she mumbled. “Please…go on.”

      “Her name was Aobhnait,” Faolan said, his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. “She told me if I couldna find love with her, I’d find it with no one. What ye carry around yer neck, Princess, is nothing less than a piece of my immortal soul. In the attempt to bind me to her, she stole it from me while I slept and imprisoned it within that stone. Without it, I canna die. I’ve lived for hundreds of years, and watched everyone I ever cared about grow old and die. I canna even remember the faces of my wife and children.” His face contorted in anger. “She took everything from me to force me to return to her, and I refused. So now I am bound to the necklace, and therefore to ye, Princess.” He lifted his glass in toast. “It’s been missing for more years than I can recall. Truly, I thought never to see it again. How did yer grandmother come to have it in her possession?”

      “I have no idea,” Colleen confessed. “She passed away six months ago, and asked that it be sent to me.” She watched her own hand in amazement as it reached out and gripped his larger one all by itself. “How can the curse be broken?”

      His lips pressed together in a firm line, his face grew shuttered. Abruptly he pulled his hand away, pushed back from the table and stood. “The hour is late and I grow weary. Where may I take my rest?”

      “Uh…yes,” Colleen said, rising in response. Waving for him to follow her, she led him across the living room and into the guest bedroom. “In here,” she called. Tugging the louver closet doors open, she dragged out the folded rollaway she used for company–or would have, if she had ever had company. Her hands flew as she made up the makeshift bed with floral cotton sheets and a down comforter. “It’s not fancy, but it will give you some privacy until we can figure out what to do with you,” she said, more to herself than to him.

      Faolan stood in the doorway behind her and glanced around, his gaze landing on the narrow cot. He sighed. “And here’s me thinkin’ I’d be sharing that grand, inviting bed with ye.”

      She whirled to face him, and he treated her to a devilish wink and grin.

      “Out of the question,” she replied tartly. “I’m sure my husband wouldn’t appreciate that.”

      Faolan tsked at her. “There’s no man living here with ye, Princess,” he said, his voice gently reproving. When she opened her mouth to protest, he gestured to the front door. “There are five locks on yer door and ye carry a club. Had ye a man, ye’d have no need of such protection. A woman as beautiful as ye alone. The men of yer time must be clot heided fools.” He pressed his hand down on the rollaway to test the softness. “This will do me just fine, Colleen O’Brien.”

      She shivered at the way her name rolled off his tongue. Offering him a shy smile she said, “There are more blankets in the closet if you get cold.”

      Faolan bowed graciously. “Thank ye, milady, and I bid ye a good night.”

      “And just help yourself if you get thirsty; there are glasses in the cabinet right next to the fridge, and there’s water and ice in the door dispenser. Do you remember how it works?”

      “Aye. Yer very kind, thank ye.”

      Nervously twisting a strand of hair, Colleen knew inane babbling was imminent but to her complete mortification was powerless to stop it. She pointed to the wall switch and said, “You turn the lights on and off here and if you can’t sleep and want something to read there are books in the living room…” her voice broke off. “Wait. Can you read?”

      His chin took a slight tilt upward. “Aye,” Faolan replied, his voice cool, “in English, Gaelic, Latin, or French. My Welsh is a bit rusty, and I doona remember any of the Greek I was taught except for words not fit for a lady’s ears. I can also count all the way up to…” He looked down and wiggled his large bare toes, “…twenty.”

      Colleen was mortified at speaking her thoughts aloud. From his tone, she suspected that he may have been a teensy bit offended by the unkind assumption. Her heart sank again at her unintentional rudeness. “I’m…sorry. I didn’t mean…”

      The twinkle in his eyes told her he was teasing. “Doona fash yerself; ’twas a fair enough question. I’ll be fine, Princess,” he smiled, giving her a charming tilt of his head. “I have to say, yer taking my arrival more calmly than most lasses. In all the times I’ve been summoned, I think this was the first time I’ve landed on my…backside.” He grimaced and rubbed his butt. “Made a hell of a mess of yer table, too. I’m sorry for that.”

      She watched his hand with something akin to envy as it massaged that perfect, muscled…stop it… “Don’t worry about it. I hated that table,” she assured him between clenched teeth, “but it’ll be back by morning anyway.”

      Faolan’s dark eyebrows flew up in surprise then dropped into a frown of unmasked suspicion. “And how will that come to pass, mistress? Have ye magic of yer own, then?”

      She beamed, waving a hand nonchalantly. “I’m dreaming, of course. And in the morning when I get up, I’m going to write all this down so I can remember it. This is one of the best dreams I’ve ever had. Just call me Alice and you’re my white rabbit,” she said, ending with a high pitched giggle.

      His look clearly said he questioned her sanity. “Ye said yer name was Colleen,” he reminded her, “and I wouldna have thought I resembled a rabbit at all, much less a white one.”

      “My name is Colleen,” she laughed. “Alice is a character from a book by…” she paused, then waved her hand in dismissal. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You’re just a dream.”

      “I’m no dream, Colleen,” Faolan said. Like a stalking animal, he closed the distance between them with fluid, purposeful grace. She took one step backward then another and another until the wall against her back prevented further retreat. He braced his hands against the wall palm down on either side of her, fencing her in with his body. His darkening eyes locked on hers, he whispered, “Ye called to me and I answered, lady. I’m here to fulfill yer slightest whim, give ye yer heart’s desires, satisfy yer…” His gaze dropped to her mouth, “…every need. Ye need only tell me what ye wish of me.”

      Her face flaming bright red, she ducked under his arm. “Good to know, thanks. Okay, then…umm…good night.” Giving him a quick smile she backed out of the room fast enough to leave skid marks on the carpet, fumbling for the knob and slamming the door closed behind her.

      * * * *

      “Going to ground like a frightened cony,” Faolan whispered with a grin, “but it’ll do ye nae good, my lass.” He stretched out on the padded cot just barely big enough to accommodate his bulk. Crossing his long legs at the ankles, he laid his head down, luxuriating in the softness of the sweet smelling down pillow. With one dangling hand, he felt around on the floor under the makeshift bed until he found his boots. She had cleaned them, he noted. Feeling around a little more, his hand came to rest on the empty sporran, which–heaven be praised–Colleen didn’t notice had СКАЧАТЬ