An Enchanted Spring: Mists of Fate - Book Two (14 page)

When the two men finally paused for a water break, Emma decided it was time to stop ogling and get down to her reading.

The trouble was, history didn’t hold a candle to her present day.

• • •

“Ow!”

Emma shook her hand and glared at the fancy espresso/latte/coffee device in Colin’s kitchen. It had looked harmless when she first approached it, but the moment she touched the damn thing, it spit and hissed like a caged wild animal.

Because she was the first one up today, she thought it might be nice to make coffee. Colin always seemed to have some ready for her and anyone else who wanted it, so she padded down the gorgeous white-and-oak stairs, her steps muffled on the beautiful oriental stair treads. Her bare toes sank into the thick carpet in the main hallway on the way to the stunning chef’s kitchen, and she marveled at the house’s cleanliness.

Except the office
, she reminded herself with a chuckle.

She placed her hands on her hips and returned her attention to the problem at hand. She never actually saw Colin make the coffee; she wasn’t sure where to put the grounds.

She glanced at the maple cabinets above the caramel-colored granite counters and let out a sigh. She didn’t even know which one would contain coffee.

She spied a little red lever on the angry machine and the box of English Breakfast tea on the counter. After a quick search, she located the coffee mugs and placed a bag in one. She placed her cup under the spout and had her finger on the lever when a rumble of laughter from behind stopped her cold.

“I wouldn’t use that one, lass.” Aidan walked into the kitchen, dressed in a black tee and running shorts, a towel around his neck. “That starts the foamer.”

“Foamer?” she echoed, carefully removing her hand.

“Aye. I don’t know why he doesn’t have a normal pot, like the rest of mankind.”

She looked down at her cup. “Well, perhaps I won’t have any tea, either.”

“Either?”

She placed her cup back in the cabinet. “Well, at first I thought it would be nice if I made coffee for everyone, since Colin always has it made for everyone else. When I hit the on switch, it spit at me and burned my hand.”

“It spit at you,” Aidan repeated, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Yes,” she said firmly, “it spit at me. Then I realized that I didn’t know where the coffee was, so I gave up that plan. I saw the tea and thought I’d make a cup, but, well, you know how that went.” She glared at the machine. “I don’t like this thing.”

Aidan walked around the island between him and Emma slowly, and she suddenly felt like prey.

Was there a word for prey that wanted to be caught?

No, no, no. Stop it. He’s just going to show me how to—

He stopped directly in front of her, his body inches from hers, and slowly leaned in. Emma’s breath hitched, and her body went on full alert, her senses hyperaware of him. His clean scent filled her nose, and his nearness made her knees turn to jelly. When her eyes locked on his clean-shaven face, it took every fiber of her being not to rise up on her toes and run her tongue along his jawline.

His eyes met hers, and she saw it—raw hunger. As he raised his hand slowly, she parted her lips, hoping for a second taste of Aidan MacWilliam.

The sound of something rustling above her head forced her to look up.

Aidan brought a bag of coffee down to the counter and trapped her between his arms.

She couldn’t move. She didn’t
want
to move.

They stood like that for a long moment before he shook his head a little, as if questioning his sanity, before he placed his hand on her jaw, tugged it open, and melded his firm lips to hers. Her eyes fluttered closed of their own accord, and she was suddenly enveloped in his arms, his hand stroking her neck. He cradled her head and flicked his tongue to hers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brought them up to his neck, as he kissed her gently, carefully, as though she would break.

She sighed softly and leaned into him, and he growled into her mouth. Aidan kept one hand in her hair, his fingers gentle, and pressed his other hand into the small of her back, bringing her body flush with his. He deepened the kiss, devouring her in the best of ways. Emma felt cherished, branded, and hot all over.

She pressed into him harder, and he slid his hand up her spine, sending chills throughout her overheated body. She ran her fingers through his hair, surprised at its softness. He drew her attention away from wandering thoughts, though, when, without breaking the kiss, he grasped her waist and lifted her onto the counter. He angled her head and kissed her as though his life depended on it.

She lost all coherent thought.

His hands were on her back, her shoulders, her hair, her legs. She dragged her hands up his abs, feeling the ridges of muscles and flesh; she wanted to tear his shirt off and kiss him everywhere, all at once.

“Ahem.”

Dimly, she registered that someone was standing on the other side of the island, and she tried to disengage from Aidan.

“Kitchen’s closed,” Aidan said, his voice rough. He rested his forehead against Emma’s.

“Let me know when it’s open, all right? I need some coffee before I start working,” Colin replied, the grin in his voice unmistakable. A few seconds later, a door opened and closed.

They looked at each other for a moment, breathing hard, and didn’t say anything. Aidan flicked his gaze to her lips, and kissed her hard and deep before pulling away. “I won’t apologize for that.”

More confused than ever, she glared at him. “I don’t know whether to slap you or…or…”

His green gaze locked on her for another moment, and he let out a sudden chuckle. “Christ, Emma, what you reduce me to. Kissing you in my cousin’s kitchen.”

“That felt more like ravishing,” she snapped before she could stop herself. She slid off the counter.

He brought his body against hers once more, and she cursed herself for freezing in place. He leaned down, his mouth on her ear, and ran his tongue along it. “Then you’ve never been properly ravished,” he whispered. He wagged his eyebrows at her, and she pushed away from him. He chuckled.

“I hate it when I miss a good joke,” Reilly said, walking in. He was dressed similarly to Aidan, in shorts and a tee, holding a towel and a water bottle. His jaw hardened when he saw the two of them together. “You look like you’re ready for our exercise this morning, MacWilliam. And your lady friend looks like she may be in need of a guardian.”

“Give it a rest, O’Malley.”

“I’m a Protector,” Reilly said, as though that were some sort of explanation.

Emma wrinkled her brow. “What do you protect?” she asked.

“All sorts of things,” he replied. “Lasses, mostly.”

She arched a brow at him.

“Wolf in sheep’s clothing, lass.” He threw a nod toward Aidan, who gave her a quick grin and headed out the back door.

“Is it safe to enter?” Colin asked, poking his head in the kitchen. He gave her a dazzling smile and noticed the bag behind her. “Ah. I see you found the coffee.”

She threw up her hands and stomped toward the stairs, leaving Colin scratching his chin in the kitchen.

Aidan ran along the street, barely breaking a sweat. Reilly kept pace easily and, perhaps more importantly, silently. Aidan did not want to discuss the events of his morning, and certainly not with Reilly.

They made their way through the streets of Boston’s Back Bay, and Aidan couldn’t help but notice the signs of spring. The trees showed their green, and some residents had already filled their flower boxes with colorful tulips, daffodils, and peonies. It was pleasantly cool.

And still, Aidan couldn’t shake the tension from his body.

“Were you able to find anything out?” he finally asked.

Reilly slowed. “Aye.”

Aidan matched his pace. Reilly had contacts in places Aidan couldn’t reach; his network was vast. And despite their contentious relationship, Aidan would always fight to the death for Reilly, and the feeling was mutual. They’d been through so much together that they couldn’t not have genuine respect for each other, despite the constant needling.

Reilly avoided a large crack in the concrete. “We were followed here. He hasn’t figured out where we’re staying, I don’t believe. I’ve not yet determined how desperate he is to get to your Emma.”

“I wonder what he thinks she can give him?” Aidan slowed his pace further.

“Money?”

“I believe he drained her account.”

“So he took her money and destroyed her apartment,” Reilly mused, then stopped to take a drink. He swallowed and continued, “And, of course, the bastard threatened her. Do you think he laid a hand on her?”

“She didn’t say,” Aidan replied, the hair on the back of his neck rising. “If he did, he’ll pay for it.”

Reilly slanted a glance at Aidan, and they both realized at the same time that the feeling on their necks hadn’t anything to do with the thought of Emma being manhandled.

The weak morning sunlight glinted off a sharp switchblade, aimed point-blank at Aidan’s throat.

“Where’s my fiancée?” the knife-wielder demanded, his voice low.

Aidan gave Reilly a look, as though to say
Is this lad serious?
, and that was enough to set the man off. He rushed Aidan at the same time another man came at Reilly from behind.

Aidan caught Ben MacDermott by the wrist and wrestled him to the ground. He sucked in a breath when the man’s foot connected with his shin. He felt the knife tip graze his chest, and his anger flared. Aidan slammed MacDermott’s wrist against the hard concrete and felt the satisfying crunch of bone. MacDermott’s knee came up, and Aidan easily deflected it, clucking his tongue.

“Playing dirty, Benjamin?”

“She belongs to me,” he grunted as cradled his wrist. “Wherever you take her, wherever you hide her, I will find her.” He spat in Aidan’s face.

Aidan wiped the spit from his eyes and realized too late he’d given Ben an opening—he received a swift and painful head-butt to the nose. Blood spurted immediately, and Aidan’s patience snapped.

“Not likely, Romeo. She’s under my protection now.”

He gave a swift jab to the man’s Adam’s apple, making him choke for breath, then flipped him onto his stomach and pried the knife from his hand. Quickly, he slammed the hilt of the knife against Ben’s cranium, knocking him out.

Reilly sat on the bench, brushing the dirt from his hands as his assailant lay blissfully unconscious and sported a nasty bruise and broken nose. Reilly gave a jerk of his head at Ben. “Kill him?”

“I wanted to,” Aidan growled, slowly standing and shaking out his wrists.

“Why didn’t you?”

Sirens sounded nearby, and Aidan clenched his jaw. “He’s not worth the punishment here. In my time, a sword to the stomach would end this, and that would be that.”

“You know how I loathe agreeing with you, but in this case, you’re correct. Let’s go, before the cops get here. I have no desire to spend my morning filling out endless paperwork.”

Aidan took one last look at the sorry excuse for a man Emma had almost married. His skin was sallow, his frame thin. “I want to haul this lout over my shoulder, toss him in a dungeon, then force the answers out of him. Does he work alone? Are there others who will go after her if he dies?”

“Careful,” Reilly murmured, steering Aidan away from the unconscious man. “Your medieval is showing.”

• • •

Lying on the couch in the front living room, Emma was so absorbed in the romance novel she’d found in Colin’s office (which he swore up and down belonged to his late cousin), she almost didn’t hear Aidan and Reilly come in the front door. The soft click brought her awareness to the present and she marked her page before sitting up.

She let out a strangled scream.

Aidan was covered in blood, and his shirt was ripped across his chest. Reilly looked…well, he looked as though he’d just gone for a run. Not even a hair out of place.

“What happened?” she cried, scrambling off the couch and racing to them. She glared at Reilly. “I think your ridiculous fighting crossed a line here, don’t you?” She frantically ran her fingers over Aidan’s chest and arms, checking for wounds.

He caught her hands in his own. “Emmaline.” He repeated her name again, and she looked at him. “I’m fine. We were attacked, but it was nothing. The bugger just happened to hit me in the right spot.”

“What about your shirt?” she asked. The tear was long and neatly done, as though someone had taken scissors to it and cut a long line.

“You know, I was hurt too,” Reilly interjected.

“I don’t see you covered in blood,” Emma said in disbelief.

“I’ll go have a shower, then,” Aidan said, gently disentangling his fingers from hers. “Perhaps when I get out, you can check me for injury.”

Emma’s face flamed.

She threw her hands on her hips and gave Reilly a quick once-over. “What happened? Random attack?”

Reilly waved her in front of him and she led him into the guest bathroom. He pulled down a first-aid kit from behind the mirror and handed it to her. “I’ll let Aidan have the glory of telling you. Go tend to him, but be careful, lass.”

“Why do you say that?” she wondered aloud, holding his gaze.

“Because he can’t say it himself.”

She blinked. “How long have you known Aidan?” she asked.

He answered without hesitation. “Many years.”

“And in those many years, how many women have you warned off him?”

He leveled a stare at her. “Not a one.”

Her mouth dropped, and she clutched the kit against her chest as he gave her a swift nod and brushed by her.

Talk about mixed signals
, she thought as he headed upstairs. She flicked the bathroom light off and glanced up the stairs after him. He warned her to stay away from Aidan, but handed her a first-aid kit, which he himself clearly didn’t need.

Aidan, however…

Her brows knit, and she wondered if she would ever understand men.

She wasn’t sure she
could
stay away from him. Each time his lips touched hers, an explosion went off inside her brain, and she was powerless against it. Their attraction seemed quite mutual, but he was her boss. She wouldn’t lower herself to fooling around with him.