Dani Harper - Storm Bound

Her quarry was blissfully unaware of who she was of course. Aidan ap Llanfor had not been able to see past or sense her disguise. Of course, neither he nor the woman he was with had looked upon the mask of extraordinary human perfection she displayed so radiantly to George. No, no, she’d shown them a far more ordinary face and form, one less likely to draw suspicion.

She was very good at playing games .

Aidan ap Llanfor had paid little attention to Felicia at all, just enough to greet her politely as he stood back on the sidewalk. His companion, Brooke Halloran, was friendly enough, but she was a puzzle. Celynnen had sensed at once that she possessed a deep wellspring of magic within her, highly unusual for a human. While it was almost impossible that she’d been the cause of the silver collar’s failure, the little mortal was most definitely responsible for the protective warding that now surrounded the building. That it was able to repel even a member of the royal family was astonishing—and quite annoying.

But the woman wasn’t inside her bespelled building now, and neither was Aidan ap Llanfor. Celynnen could feel that they were both wearing charms, of a type she hadn’t encountered before, but she doubted the protective magic was potent enough to keep her from doing as she pleased. The most delightful part, however, was trying to choose what it was that pleased her most. How should she advance the game? Much could depend on what the woman meant to Aidan ap Llanfor. It was unlikely the witch was more than a simple acquaintance to him. He who had spurned the advances of a flawless tywysoges, a princess of the Fair Ones, surely could not prefer the company of a mere mortal. Although he had placed an unexpected amount of value on a lost love—

Ah.

That was why Brooke Halloran looked so familiar. She bore more than a passing resemblance to the much-mourned Annwyl. Perhaps there was more between her and the blacksmith than first appeared. Celynnen smiled with the sudden abundance of delicious possibilities. The game had just become much more interesting. Was there a way in which Aidan ap Llanfor might finally surrender to her? Of course she could threaten his little witch to win his cooperation, but where was the fun in that? He’d give in, no doubt, but she still wouldn’t have what she really wanted: Aidan ap Llanfor as a willing lover . She needed a strategy that would put his strong arms around her and his pulsing cock inside her because he found her irresistibly beautiful , because he worshipped her perfection as George Santiago-Callahan did. As if he’d sensed she was thinking about him, her newest pet looked over at her and grinned. He was very handsome for a human. For now, perhaps she would simply go along with him to the city of Seattle that he spoke so glowingly of. Why shouldn’t she have just a little more fun and enjoy what other novelties he could show her? There would be time enough later to pursue her agenda with the blacksmith. Right now, her agenda called for more sex with George Santiago-Callahan.

Immediately.

It wasn’t difficult to persuade George to elude his friends, who were following on the highway somewhere behind them, and drive onto a side road. As she left it to him to search out a suitable stand of trees in which to sequester themselves, she amused herself with thoughts of all the things she might do with Aidan ap Llanfor when she finally got him into her bed.

Morgan’s veterinary practice was in Spokane Valley, but she owned a farm several miles north of the city. It was a long daily commute to her clinic and back, but every time Brooke saw the countryside surrounding her friend’s home, she understood why Morgan lived there. She loved the dry grassy hills dotted with clusters of long-needled pines. Denser stands of trees surrounded farmyards and homes or gathered along riverbanks. There were vast orchards too, where apple trees appeared to march in tidy rows up and down the rises.

Aidan had been silent through most of the drive, appearing to be deep in thought. She knew he was tired. Perhaps he would sleep better at the farm? Brooke tried again at conversation. “I guess this landscape is a lot different from Wales.”

He nodded. “The land here is wide and open; the fields very large. Cymru is greener, though.”

“Kumree?”

“Very close. Cymru ,” he corrected. “The name of Wales to the Welsh in these times.”

“Do you miss it?”

“You ask hard questions, cariad .” He favored her with the first smile she’d seen in a couple of hours. “I’ve seen the country change and grow over ten centuries. What I remember from when I lived as a man there, that’s what I miss. Family and friends and neighbors—I miss them most, much more than the place. I do miss my forge. I like to be working with metal, making things with my hands. But the country itself—Wales, now? It’s not mine anymore, not the place and not the people.”

A man outside of time. Where had she heard that saying before? Perhaps a movie or something…

A series of crab-apple trees lined a mile of rail fence along the gravel road they were traveling, and Brooke knew they’d reached their destination. She turned her SUV into the long winding laneway of the Celtic Renaissance Training Center . Flanked by freshly planted catalpa trees, the large green sign on Morgan’s farm was brand new and cleverly framed in welded iron horseshoes.

Brooke sighed inwardly as she drew up to the house, however. There was no sign of George and Felicia—how had she managed to overtake the speedy Carmelita? Unless they stopped for a break…She realized with exasperation what the couple had probably stopped to do. For pity’s sake, G. Couldn’t you wait till you had a room? As if the Universe were chiding her, she suddenly recalled her vision of hot, wet sex in the rain with Aidan. It played in her head in vivid detail, and she could feel twin spots of heat glow high on her cheekbones. Heat was glowing between her legs too…

Thankfully, Morgan and Rhys came out to greet them, followed by their enormous mastiff, Fred, and she was distracted from her X-rated thoughts for the moment. Brooke ran to hug them all, and she noted that while Rhys and Aidan were close to the same height, Aidan was built differently, more powerfully, across the shoulders and chest. Probably from his years of hammering metal as a smith. Whatever the reason, she had to take a moment just to admire his masculine form—and the heat returned full force.

Meanwhile, the tall and handsome object of her oversexed mind greeted her friends pleasantly enough, paying particular attention to rubbing the ears of the big brindle dog. Then something curious happened—the moment Aidan clasped hands with Rhys, Brooke’s ears popped as if the air pressure had abruptly changed. There was, well, some kind of hiccup in reality, as if a few seconds of time had abruptly speeded up, then stopped. The two big men stared at each other in disbelief, then both began talking at once. Actually talking was too mild a term. It was more like a verbal avalanche of what Brooke could only assume was high-speed Welsh. Morgan stood close beside her, and she saw that her friend was as baffled as she was. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Morgan shook her head. “He’s been teaching me the language, but they’re going too fast. I’m only picking up a few odd words here and there.”

Eventually, Rhys stepped back and put his big arm around his wife and a reassuring hand on Brooke’s shoulder. “Not a thing is wrong, only strange beyond wondering. He’s a grim—or was one.”

Brooke goggled. “How the hell did you know that?”

“Because I’ve been one myself.”