Hot Blooded, page 12
He was ravenous for her, the hunger growing with every touch of her tongue against his.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Desire blazed, passion raged. Both reigned, controlling Iona as nothing and no one else had. This time she wanted … everything.
She shifted her feet to get closer, and a rock slipped beneath her foot, causing her to lose her balance. Since she was already leaning over Laith’s arm, she began to fall backward. In an instant, Laith lunged forward, his leg stopping their tumble. The kiss ended as they looked into each other’s eyes and began to laugh.
Iona had never gone from such scorching passion to laughter before, while still in a man’s arms. It was such a different experience that she wondered what else she had missed out on.
She wound the locks of his dark blond hair around her finger, trying to decide if she liked it better in the queue or not. Even with Laith holding most of her weight in their difficult position, his hold was steady, his gunmetal eyes watching her. In a blink, their laughter died as desire ensnared them once more.
Iona licked her lips, the taste of Laith still upon them. It scared her how much she needed to feel him, to touch him. If there were ever a man to make her consider the idea of love—it would be Laith.
She loosened her grip on his hair and lightly scraped her fingernails over his cheek to his incredible lips. “I could kiss you all day.”
Laith’s gaze intensified. “All right.”
His head lowered to hers. Iona lifted her face, anxious for more of his kisses when Laith suddenly looked to the waterfall, a sad, dejected expression falling over him. Laith set her on her feet and then took a step back.
“What’s wrong?” Iona had been in awkward situations before, but this was the first time she hadn’t wanted to just walk away and forget everything. “Is it something I did?”
“Nay,” he quickly answered. “It’s no’ you, Iona. It’s me. It’s memories, actually.”
He was staring at the top of the waterfall, his remorse visible for anyone to see. Iona saw nothing but beauty and wonder at the waterfall, but it obviously held something bad for Laith. Had she gone anywhere else but there, they would probably be kissing once more.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She glanced at him as she spoke.
He finally looked away from the waterfall to her. “I do, but I doona think you’re ready.”
“Me?” she asked, now thoroughly confused. “I thought this was about your past.”
“It is.” He paused, his lips flattening for a moment. “I’m mucking this up badly. You need to read your father’s letter.”
“I will.”
Iona didn’t want to think of the letter, her father, or anything other than Laith and the passion they shared. Just as she knew he didn’t want to remain at the waterfall. With reluctance, she started back to the cottage, and he fell in step beside her.
For several minutes, they walked in companionable silence with Iona aware of his every move. Twice their hands brushed, sending currents of longing snaking through her like lightning, building her longing, heating her blood.
“Are you still angry that I didna tell you I was part of Dreagan?” he asked.
She thought about that a moment, then gave a halfhearted shrug. “No one likes being lied to, even if that lie was by omission. I get the feeling there is more to Dreagan than you’re telling me. It doesn’t help with all the secrets and secrecy either.”
“I know. Read the letter John left you. I think that will help answer most of what you want to know.”
“And the rest?” She turned her head to him to see his reaction.
His gaze met hers. “I’ll fill in the rest.”
It was more than she had gotten before. Iona hadn’t cared about such things previously, but then again she hadn’t met a man like Laith or had someone close to her murdered.
“The enemies you spoke of, do you know who they are?” she asked.
Laith’s brow furrowed as he helped her navigate over an outcropping of large rocks. “We have our suspicions.”
“So no one knows who killed my father.”
He came to a stop and grasped her arm to turn her toward home. “No’ yet, but I give you my vow we’ll learn the truth.”
“Why do I get the feeling you won’t turn the information over to the authorities?”
“Because they wouldna be able to do anything.”
She frowned, worry filling her stomach. “Who are these people?”
“They’re dangerous. Just remember that. I want you safe. Unfortunately, just being here puts you in danger.”
“Because I’m the last Campbell?” Why hadn’t she put that together sooner?
Laith nodded solemnly.
“And since this land can never be sold since it has to remain in a Campbell’s hand, I’m screwed.”
“There could be another alternative.”
“How, if there isn’t another Campbell in this direct line?” she asked in confusion. His hesitation spoke volumes. “More secrets? Let me guess. My father had more children with another woman? Not that I would blame him.”
Laith moved his hand to her lower back and urged her onward. “No’ exactly. It’s difficult to explain.”
“Everything seems to be difficult to explain. It wouldn’t be if you just told me.”
“You’re frustrated.”
“Bingo, Sherlock. Why all the secrets? Why not just tell me?”
“There are reasons, Iona. We doona tell anyone.”
“Someone must know or you wouldn’t have enemies.”
All too soon the cottage came into sight. Iona wasn’t ready to face the letter from her father, not after all she had been through since learning how he died.
“Do you want me to stay?” Laith asked.
Iona blinked and looked up at him. When had she stopped walking, and when had he moved to stand in front of her? She did want him to stay. It was so unlike her that it took her aback. Independence was a virtue she’d cultivated early on in her childhood. She had faced all sorts of situations by herself and came through fine. Why would she want Laith to stay now?
His kisses. That was definitely one possibility, but she suspected it had more to do with how protected and secure she felt when he was near.
“No,” she finally answered. “I need to read the letter by myself.”
If she let him stay, it would be a step she hadn’t ever taken before. He could get close, leaving her vulnerable. She refused to allow that to happen.
He gave a nod and walked her to the back door. Even as Iona was unlocking the door, her mind screamed for her to invite him in. Iona fought against the urge, and somehow succeeded.
“You know how to find me if you need anything,” Laith said and gave a gentle tug of her hair.
Iona watched him walk around the house. She hurried inside and ran to the front to look out the window for a glimpse of him. With her arms wrapped around herself, she stared after him, loving the predatory way he moved.
When he reached his black Audi, he opened the door, but paused before he got inside. His head lifted so that he looked right at her through the window. Laith gave her a reassuring smile.
Oddly enough, Iona found it easy to return the smile. Then he got in the car and drove away. Once more leaving Iona by herself. She used to love the solitude, but she was beginning to hate it.
She turned from the window to look at her purse that sat on the end table next to the couch. Iona walked to her purse and found the envelope inside. She tucked a leg beneath her and sat on the couch, staring at the white envelope with her name written in her father’s neat script.
During her years with him, she recalled him saying that handwriting was a lost art, one that he loved as much as writing his books. Iona smoothed her hands over the envelope, and then turned it over. On the back was a globe of red wax with the Campbell coat of arms imprinted in the wax. Iona broke the seal and opened the envelope.
She unfolded the pages to see more of her father’s handwriting. Then she began to read.
My dearest Iona,
I hope that we’ve reconciled, and I’ve already explained some things to you, but just in case that doesn’t happen, I’ve written down what I could.
This piece of land is always to remain with the Campbells. It can never be sold or given to anyone but a direct descendant of our line. I’m sure you’re wondering why. There’s no easy explanation. It goes back thousands of years. We Campbells were lucky to have found such friends as those at Dreagan. They are good people. Trust them, because they have been trusting us for generations.
I really hope I get to tell you this in person instead of just in this letter, because there’s no easy way to explain who those at Dreagan are. They are different than us, lass. They are protectors, guardians if you will. The longer you remain on the land, the more you’ll come to understand. You might even get a glimpse of something if you look to the night skies hard enough.
As with everything, those at Dreagan have enemies. During my time it’s been relatively quiet, but I sense a change coming. There will be people who want on your land. You can’t allow them access, because if you do, the consequences could be catastrophic.
That’s all I can say in the letter in case it falls into the wrong hands. I’m praying that I get to explain everything in detail in person, because there is so much I’m having to leave out.
Be safe, be vigilant, and above all else, trust only those at Dreagan.
Your loving father.
Iona read the letter twice more before she set it aside. If only she had come to see him sooner, if only she had set aside her resentment and visited earlier she might have learned who he was. She might have seen the man beloved by everyone, and she would have learned what Laith was hesitant to tell her.
Her father was adamant that she only trust those at Dreagan. That wasn’t difficult after knowing Laith, but she needed more. Her father spoke of dangers and enemies, which meant he had seen things that worried him. Had he seen his murderers?
Now Iona really wished Laith was there. Perhaps then he could tell her what he’d refused to earlier. How was she supposed to keep a secret confidential when she didn’t even know what the secret was?
Look to the night skies, her father had written. What could possibly be in the sky besides stars and the occasional airplane or helicopter?
She would have all day to think about that. Iona folded up the letter and put it back in the envelope. She set it down beside her, and then changed her mind and returned it to her purse.
If she didn’t get her thoughts off of the contents of the letter, she would go insane. She wanted to jump in her car and find Laith, and that made her remain where she was. She was getting too close to Laith, her desire too profound to be controlled. Even with the worry over whatever secret her father kept, she knew she had to have some time alone to think and digest everything—including her yearning for Laith.
Iona got her camera and laptop and plugged in the camera to start uploading all the pictures she had taken.
* * *
A chime sounded from his computer, alerting him that Iona Campbell was uploading more pictures. He clicked on the folder labeled with her name and scrolled through each picture as it came through.
The silly chit had no idea she was doing exactly as he wanted. Of course she also had no idea that her photos were sent directly to him. She had been one of his best acquisitions since he put together the Commune, but her usefulness was coming to an end. She was now in possession of the plot of land that had been in her family for untold generations.
Iona wasn’t as vigilant as her father. It was going to be easy to get on the land and find the doorway onto Dreagan. And he knew exactly where to start looking—the waterfall.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Laith ran through the motions of pouring one drink after another, but his mind wasn’t in it. No, he was squarely, firmly thinking about Iona.
Leaving her the day before had been difficult after their kisses. Staying away had been nearly impossible. Laith filled yesterday and today with anything he could think of that might take his mind off of her—to no avail.
She was resolutely a part of him now whether he wanted it or not, and frankly he didn’t want it. That wasn’t entirely true. He wanted her, craved her as he ached to see his Blacks again, pined to see the dragons they had sent away.
Laith took the money from a customer and put it in the register, but he wasn’t seeing the currency, he was thinking of Iona’s yielding lips, her honeyed taste. He could spend eternity kissing her, and he wanted to do much more than that.
Had they been anywhere else, Laith knew he would have made love to her. But they hadn’t been anywhere else, they had been at the waterfall. It was a spectacularly beautiful place that was scarred by what they had done there.
“Laith?”
He blinked and came back to the present to see Rhys standing across the bar. “Aye?”
“I was beginning to wonder if you could hear me. I’ve been calling your name for a while.”
Laith grabbed a towel and wiped down the bar around him. It had been a long day, and he suspected another long night awaited him. “I was thinking.”
“I doona have to use magic to know your thoughts center on one mortal.”
Laith glanced around quickly to make sure none of the humans had heard Rhys. He speared Rhys with a glower. “Lower your voice,” he said through clenched teeth.
Rhys raised a dark brow. “You sound just like Con.”
“I doona,” he mumbled grumpily.
“Con disappears and everyone takes over his … attitude.”
“You doona.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Thank goodness.”
Laith frowned as he leaned his arms on the bar. “Con still hasna returned?”
“You’d know that had you come to the manor this morning or even at lunch.”
“I had things to do.”
Rhys smirked. “Right.”
Laith whistled and tossed the towel to Sammi when she turned to him. She caught it easily, her usual bright smile in place.
“You leaving?” she asked as she joined them.
Rhys gave a grunt as he pushed away from the bar. “I’m attempting to get his arse moving.”
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Laith said as he threw up his hands.
Rhys paused and turned back to Sammi. “By the way, Tristan said to remind you that he’d meet you when your shift was over. He’ll be in his usual place.”
Laith watched Sammi’s smile broaden, if that was even possible. Tristan’s usual spot was out back in the woods where he waited for her in dragon form. Sammi would then climb onto Tristan and he would fly them back to Dreagan.
The only way they were able to do that was because the pub was so far from town, otherwise people might see them. Since Sammi usually closed up, all the customers were long gone by the time she met Tristan.
Sammi gave them a wave before she filled another glass of ale. Laith walked to the back of the pub and past his office and the kitchen to the back door. He drew in a deep breath when he stepped into the night, Rhys on his heels.
“She’s fine,” Rhys said. “We’ve been keeping an eye out.”
Laith knew that, but it wasn’t the same as seeing her himself. “I want to see her.”
“Then go to her.”
“I’m giving her time. She’s got a lot to deal with.”
Rhys grunted as he walked past him farther into the woods. “That’s a load of shite, and you know it. If you want her, go to her.”
Laith narrowed his gaze on his friend. “Where is your usual horde of women, Rhys? You’ve only been out twice in the last month.”
“Keeping tabs on me now, aye?” Rhys asked and glanced over his shoulder.
The smile was forced, and it concerned Laith more. Rhys had always had women, flocks of women. He flew from one bird to another, and yet they kept rushing to him. Rhys was one of the few who loved to flaunt his wealth and his charm, which worked well with his love of women.
Things had changed ever since he was injured in Ireland. Rhys had been telling everyone he felt fine, but actions spoke louder than words—especially when it came to Rhys.
“What’s changed with you?” Laith asked.
Rhys stopped and faced him. “Everything. You didna see what I have in the times I’ve gone after our brethren in the pits of the Dark Fae burrows.”
“Nor was I recently struck with a blast of dragon magic,” Laith added.
Rhys looked to the sky and sighed. Laith stood beside him and followed his gaze. The Kings had gone thousands of eons with no one coming close to hurting them. They were the most powerful beings on Earth, but they did have weaknesses.
A blast of Dark Fae magic while they were in dragon form could revert them back to human, unable to shift again for a short time. But the only thing that could kill a Dragon King was another Dragon King. Not only was their dragon magic some of the most powerful in the universe, but they couldn’t be killed.
“I almost forgot how painful it was,” Rhys said into the quiet. “The last time I was wounded by another King was in the war with the humans when we were split for a time.”
Laith crossed his arms over his chest. “I had a glancing blow, but nothing serious. Hurt like the devil though.”
“We got too complacent. We’re no’ prepared for a battle of that magnitude, Laith. That small skirmish in Ireland proved that.”
“The Dark were defeated,” Laith said, confused.
Rhys made a sound at the back of his throat. “If they were truly defeated, they would no longer be a threat. We know they’re most definitely a threat. They want something Con has hidden, and they willna stop until they have it.”
“I’ve no idea what it is they search for, do you?”
“Nay, but no’ for lack of trying.” Rhys shrugged and pulled off his shirt. “I can no’ shake the feeling that our time here is coming to an end.”
Laith took off his boots and set them next to a tree. “We’ve been here since the dawn of time. We’re no’ going anywhere, Rhys. We’re supposed to be protecting the humans, remember?”
