Dani Harper - Storm Bound

Brooke pretended to look exasperated. “There’s that word, old , again—I keep telling you it doesn’t apply to you at all.” They hugged again, laughing. “Tell Lissy I’ll drop by and see her tomorrow night, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it is!” Olivia said. “Then two of my darling daughters will be at home.” She gathered up her purse and her bag to leave but paused in the doorway for a moment. “I fed your cats for you. The little things were absolutely starving . And we got a call asking for fresh-cut yarrow. I don’t remember if you have any left in your garden or not, but I took the number down and told them you’d call them in the morning.” She waved, and the shop bell rang as the door closed behind her.

Starving? Really? Brooke shook her head. Those conniving cats had Olivia wrapped around their sneaky little paws. She locked the store and went up to her apartment, but there were no purring felines to greet her when she came in. In fact, not one of the three cats moved from their sprawled position on the couch, although Rory did blink once in blissful satisfaction. They probably couldn’t move, since a formerly new box of Little Whiskers now sat half empty on the table.

Sighing, she decided to leave the comatose crew behind and head up to the roof to check the plot of yarrow. It was late in the season, and she wasn’t sure she had much that was worth cutting. She didn’t bother with a flashlight; the darkness was no hindrance to her. The moon was beginning to rise in a clear sky, plus the big red and gold sign for Mel’s Gas and Grocery would be coming on in a little while. Despite being down the block, it provided plenty of pleasant glowing light, so she should be able to examine her plants without any trouble.

Besides, she enjoyed being on the roof. Despite the missing skylight—which was finally going to be replaced—the place was still a sanctuary to her. With the starry sky above her, it was a perfect place to regroup and rethink, and sometimes gain a little peace. She might even stretch out in the greenhouse for the night.

The door to the roof had barely closed behind her when she saw it: the green futon in the middle of the garden. Her heart banged against the cage of her chest, hard, and she lost the fight to keep a lid on the hope that geysered up inside her.

Aidan.

He approached her from the direction of the evening star, slowly but purposefully, and she held both her ground and her breath. He was dressed in black on black, which made his gray eyes seem all the more intense. His riding leathers and tall boots were tailored perfectly to his muscled frame, sleek and powerful. The moment stretched out, agonizingly long, until he stood before her, scant inches away. Immediately, she felt tiny currents of energy flow freely between them and wondered if he sensed it as well. She didn’t care about that though, not right now. All she wanted was to throw her arms around his neck, but she couldn’t do that either, not yet. Not until she knew how things stood.

“You’ve been gone a long time,” she managed to say, pleased that her voice didn’t shake, although her knees threatened to. “I didn’t think I was going to see you again.”

“I promised you I’d come back, cariad . Did I not tell you I loved you?” He took a seat on the futon and put an inviting arm out to her. She sat beneath his shoulder, and it was the closest thing to bliss she’d known in a very long time. It felt safe and good and right, like she belonged there—but after six months without so much as a faery postcard, she damn well deserved some convincing.

“I didn’t hear a word from you. Not a word. How was I to know you hadn’t forgotten me? Or changed your mind about us?”

“I know my own mind, Brooke Halloran. And I knew it before I left you.” He cupped her face with his enormous hand, the same strong hand that wielded hammers and swords, now made gentle as if stroking a kitten. “There isn’t a wonder in the faery realm that holds a candle to you, that could entice me to stay a minute longer. Although Lurien surely tried to convince me to stay on.”

“He did not!” If the Lord of the Wild Hunt was present, she would so have words to say to him.

“Aye, he did. Offered me gold and silver, enough to live like ten lords all my days. But I knew what I wanted, and he sent me back here as he promised. Cygnus was returned to his home with Rhys and Morgan too—although I hope Lurien remembered to remove the glamor that made the good beast look like a fierce faery horse. I don’t know that they would appreciate the tusks and the horns.” He took her hand in both of his and kissed it slowly, softly. His mouth was hot and she jumped as a trail of sparks seemed to shoot through her bloodstream, a mad mix of magic and sexual desire. “I am so sorry I could not get a message to you. Cygnus was not the only one in disguise. I was spelled to appear to be Lurien and was watched at all times by his enemies. I understand better why he needed my help. If I had tried to contact you, bridged the two worlds, it would have been noticed at once and aroused suspicion. It may have endangered you as well, and that I would not do.”

“I guess that’s a pretty good explanation. But it was still damn hard not to hear from you.”

His mouth was on hers, and her arms wound around his neck as he pressed her tight against him. The kiss was long and sweet, but with an edge to it that expressed the sudden release from their fears for each other. She felt like she would never get enough, yet she was forced to come up for air at last. Her brain kicked in and she sat back a little.

“So, what is it that you want, cariad ?” His face gave nothing away, but she could sense that maybe she’d managed to rattle him a bit. Was it so wrong to enjoy that just a little?

Brooke knew her own mind too, and she knew exactly what she wanted. “All,” she said. “I have to have it all, or we have nothing.”

He nodded. “Aye, you deserve all, and nothing less. What is it that troubles you?”

“I need you to tell me that it’s me, really me, that you love. I had two weeks with you and six months without you. I’ve had plenty of time to come up with questions. Is it Brooke you love, or am I a stand-in for a ghost? I keep remembering your face when you first saw me. Can you ever look at me and not see Annwyl?”

That big hand tilted her face to his, and his voice was firm. “I stopped seeing her the minute you knocked me on my arse. And I’ve wanted you ever since.”

He kissed her again, his big hand cradling her face, Energies swirled through her system like an impending storm, hungry for the lightning to come.

“I wanted you then. Now. Always.” He punctuated the words with kisses to her brow, her eyes, her cheek. “You already possess all of me, cariad . Is it enough?”

“It’s plenty,” Brooke laughed and let go then; her worries, her concerns, her fears, just let them all go . She gave herself to this moment and this man.

She met him kiss for kiss now, a brush of lips, a tease of the tongue. The deliciously gentle scrape of his close-trimmed beard on her face made her eager to feel it against other parts of her body. But not yet. She drew him from the couch and her magic slowly unraveled the leather laces and intricate fastenings of his vest and shirt. She planned to enjoy every second of this. Her lips pressed each square inch of that powerful chest as she exposed it. Finally she pushed the black leather from his muscled shoulders, momentarily capturing his strong arms. He was hers to taste, to touch. The moon glinted in the blond hair across his chest and she nuzzled it, savoring the scent of him, memorizing it anew. Her fingers circled lightly through the fine dusting of hair that curled around his nipples, and a fine trail of magic followed, sensitizing them. She breathed on them, watching them contract and stand out. An experimental flick of the tongue on one delighted her when the nipple seemed to strain toward her for more. She lavished attention on them both then, sucking them as Aidan’s strong, certain hands slowly, painstakingly unfastened her silk blouse. It was like a dance. Kiss and touch, then angle to allow this button to be undone, that sleeve to be drawn away, only to kiss and touch again.