Beguiled (16 page)

Culhane grabbed Maggie as she raced into the throne room. He wrapped his arms around her and for one brief, tantalizing moment, buried his face in the curve of her neck. For one spectacular second, she allowed herself to relax in his arms and savor the feel of his solid strength surrounding her.

She felt his breath on her skin, the hard, broad expanse of his chest pressed to hers and the still-harder portion of his body pressing lower against hers. She held on to him, and just for that brief space of time, forgot that she was angry at him for going to war without even mentioning it to her. For not coming to see her in days. Even for deserting her dreams and leaving her body aching—though that last one wasn’t really his fault, she reminded herself.

Everything else was, though, and so she let go of him and stepped away from his embrace.

“That’s not what I came here for,” she said, ignoring the shrieking inside her mind. The tiny voices calling out,
Are you crazy? He’s right in front of you! Go get him! We want some Fae sex, okay?
Stupid mind. “Culhane, there’s something I have to tell you and then we need to figure out what to do about it.”

“I already know.” He scowled at her, braced his long legs in a wide stance and folded his arms over his chest. “You’ve come to tell me about Mab.”

“You know? How do you know? It just happened like thirty seconds ago, for God’s sake!” She goggled at him, eyes wide, mouth open. “How the hell does word spread so fast?”

He shrugged. “There was a momentary hesitation in the flow of time. We all felt it. It was Mab, reentering this dimension. It could have been nothing else.”

Fabulous. There was a Fae Spidey-sense network she knew nothing about. So fine. He knew about Mab’s escape and Maggie’s imminent danger. Yet he was still here. In the palace. Why hadn’t he come to her? Why wasn’t he in Maggie’s house in the real world searching for her right this minute? Was he just planning on cooling his heels at the palace and letting Maggie sink or swim on her own?

“Were you planning on coming to me about it?”

“I didn’t have to,” he pointed out all too reasonably. “You came to me.”

“Not the question,” she told him. Temper began to spike inside her as she walked a slow, tight circle around the great Fenian Warrior. Now that she was here, with him, she felt better about Mab and worse about Culhane. If everyone knew Mab was out, the chances of her springing a surprise attack were pretty slim. But her very own protective warrior hadn’t bothered to budge himself enough to leave Otherworld on her behalf. “You’re here. Why aren’t you at my house looking to protect me?”

He shook his head and his long, silky hair lifted from his shoulders. “You are
here
, Maggie.”

“Yeah, okay.” She could give him that much at least. “But you didn’t know I’d come here. You should have been looking for me. To warn me. To I don’t know . . . give a crap?”

Culhane turned in a circle, following her movements, keeping his gaze fixed with hers. “I already ‘give a crap,’ as you put it. I have for a long time. Do you forget that I have watched over you your whole life? That I am the one who sought to train you? To protect you? And for my efforts, I receive your disdain.”

“Disdain?” She pulled her head back and stared at him in surprise. “Why would you think that?”

He laughed shortly, fisted his hands at his hips and gave her a slow, thorough glance up and down her body before fixing his gaze on hers. “What would you have me think? You don’t trust me to teach you. You avoid your duties here in Otherworld. You avoid
me
.”

“You’re part of Otherworld,” Maggie said, feeling some truth in his words, whether she wanted to admit it or not. “So the avoiding just . . . happened.”

Maybe he was right about all of it, but who could really blame her? She had known, almost from the first moment when he’d popped into her kitchen and she’d knocked him out with a jug of milk, that he was a man a woman wouldn’t be able to flirt with and then step away from. That the moment she surrendered to her feelings for him, she would be lost. She wouldn’t be able to withstand what he could make her feel. Want. And once she gave in to her need for him, she would have to accept not only the warrior’s presence in her life, but the duties and responsibilities waiting for her here. In Otherworld.

Talk about terrifying.

“And it wasn’t you specifically I was trying to steer clear of. I just wasn’t ready for all of this—” She waved her hands high, encompassing the throne room, the crystal palace and Otherworld beyond the open windows. “It’s a big deal, you know. Not something you take on lightly. I’ve got a family and a house—”

“And a people expecting you to lead,” he added, interrupting her rant neatly.

“I know that.” Guilt, fresh and pure, rose up inside her. She’d turned her back on what this world offered because she hadn’t been able to let go of her own world. And in turning away from Otherworld, she’d kept Culhane at a distance. For her own peace of mind, she’d tried to ignore her feelings for him, but that wasn’t working anymore. She thought about him all the damn time. She dreamed of him. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything, so when was she going to just admit the truth?

She stopped, her back to the windows, her gaze fixed on the warrior in front of her. Through these last few weeks, Culhane had been her strength. He had defended her against enemies, stood with her against a raging, crazy-ass queen and protected her from demons. He had tried to show her that she was ready for her future, and all she’d been able to do was hide from it. She’d buried herself in her own world because the familiarity of it was a balm in some truly weird times.

But hiding wasn’t a damn answer, she reminded herself. It was just another problem.

And speaking of problems, there was one question she needed answered before she said anything else. “Do we know where Mab is?”

“I have an idea, yes.”

“Where?”

“Casia,” he said, his gaze still locked with hers.

She knew that name. She’d heard about it only a short while ago, from Finn. “You mean where you had the battle with the dolphins you didn’t tell me about.”

“Dol—” His mouth quirked slightly as he nodded. “Dullahan, you mean.”

“Whatever. You didn’t tell me, Culhane. You went out with the warriors and didn’t even bother to run it past your Queen.”

“My Queen hasn’t seen fit to rule yet,” he told her, and when she would have stepped back, he moved toward her, closing the distance separating them, and Maggie could almost feel frustration ebbing from him in a thick wave.

“And these Dulla-things were so dangerous, you couldn’t wait to talk to me
first
?”

“No.”

He looked like a statue of an avenging angel. He didn’t move. His features were tight and stiff and unrepentant. If she was waiting for him to apologize for doing what he thought necessary, Maggie knew she’d be waiting forever. “Fine. Just what the hell are they?”

“Rogue Fae.” He sneered. “The darkest kind.”

Maggie took a shallow breath and felt a chill as Culhane went on.

“They were quiet enough under Mab’s reign because as mad as she was, they’d no wish to challenge her,” he told her.

“There’s a
but
coming, Culhane,” she said, taking a breath to brace herself. “So just spit it out and get it over with.”

“
But
, they don’t fear a half-Fae Queen who spends so little time on the throne.”

Guilt. That nasty, ugly, impossible-to-ignore feeling rose up in her chest again and fisted tight around her lungs. She took a shallow breath and forced herself to ask, “What would have happened if they had gone into my world?”

“Destruction.”

One word, but said with such a deep bitterness, Maggie felt the absoluteness in his tone. She knew then without a doubt that Culhane had done the right thing. It was her own fault that her warriors made decisions without coming to her. Her own fault that she didn’t feel as if she had a place in this castle or in this world. She’d neglected a duty she hadn’t wanted to assume and she was just now beginning to realize how dangerous that decision had been.

“Allowing their rebellion to escalate was risking the greatest dangers,” he said quietly. “My Queen wasn’t here when the uprising began. We couldn’t wait.”

“I’m here now,” she said, lifting her chin and facing him with as much pride as a former wiener-dog could muster. She was through hiding. She was finished pretending that this world wasn’t as much hers as the human world.

Maggie might be a reluctant queen, but she
was
Queen, and it was high time she accepted it. She’d take her place on the throne and dare Mab to pry her off it. She’d listen to her warriors and make the best decisions she could. She’d stand up for the female warriors and make sure the male Fae weren’t treated like second-class citizens anymore. She’d be the damn George Washington of Otherworld if she had to be and by damn, she was going to have Culhane. Over her. Under her.

However she could get him.

Right now.

“I am the Queen, Culhane,” she said thoughtfully, drawing her words out, making sure he listened not only to what she was saying, but to the feeling behind the words as well. “
Your
Queen. I’m ready to do what I have to do. To learn what I need to learn. But I’m going to need
you
.”

She walked toward him and saw the flash of something dark and dangerous in his eyes. A jolt of heat shot through her like a lightning bolt, leaving sizzling and burning sensations in its wake. Her knees shook and her insides went warm and gooey. She knew what she wanted now.

Culhane might have his faults, but he’d been there when she needed him. And would be there again. She knew it. And she was willing to take the risk of caring for him.

“So,” he said warily, “you will listen to me? As your adviser?”

“I will,” she told him, coming even closer. God. She could feel the heat of his body snaking out for her. Everything in her trembled. “But you’ll have to listen to me, too, Culhane,” she warned, wanting to make sure he understood going in that she expected a full partnership here. “No more secret wars. From now on, you tell me what’s going on, even if I won’t like it—no,
especially
if I won’t like it.”

One corner of his mouth tipped up. “I will.”

“And,” Maggie added as heat pooled in her middle and drifted lower, deeper, “we’re going to have to do something about this palace, too. If I’m going to be spending lots of time here, I want a few comfortable things, you know?”

He reached out quickly, and pulled her close; she gasped as the hard, solid length of him pressed into her abdomen. Maggie’s eyes slid half shut and she took in a slow, deep breath even as she wiggled closer to him, wanting, needing what only he could provide for her.

He dropped one hand to the curve of her behind, stroking her until she wanted to purr. Maggie’s breasts ached for his touch, her nipples were hard and sensitive and she wanted to rub her body against his just to ease that ache.

“Comfortable things?” he whispered, dipping his head to nibble at her throat.

“Right. Yes.” She sighed and shifted into his touch. “Um. You know. Soft chairs. Maybe a”—she sucked in air—“bed.”

“Your wish,” he murmured, and waved one hand idly in the air; then, still keeping her pressed tightly to him, he turned her slightly to show her what he’d done.

“Oh . . . my . . . goodness.”

The bed was massive.

Four heavy posts, one at each corner, the bed itself was big enough to sleep six people. Several down mattresses were stacked atop one another, making it high enough that she’d need a ladder to climb aboard. There were a dozen or more pillows stacked against the intricately carved headboard and luxurious quilts in all the colors of the rainbow spilled from the bed to lie across the sparkling white floor.

“Do you approve?” he whispered, this time nibbling at her earlobe.

“I . . . um . . . well . . . it looks, yes . . .”

“Good. I have waited long enough to taste you, Maggie Donovan, Queen of the Fae. This night, I will explore your body and learn its every secret.” He waved his hand again and the wide double doors behind them slammed closed and locked.

Maggie sucked in another breath and tossed a glance at the open windows, through which a starry sky stretched out toward eternity. “What about . . .”

“The window arches are warded. No one gets into the Queen’s throne room uninvited.”

Good to know. “But anyone flying by, and I can’t believe I’m saying ‘flying by,’ could look in and—”

“No. The wards protect those within from being seen. We are alone, Maggie. You and I.”

“We are, aren’t we?” She looked up at him again and licked her bottom lip.

“Will you run?” he asked, studying her, waiting to see acceptance in her eyes. “Will you change your mind now? Turn aside from what burns between us? Or will you accept this new life? And me?”

Maggie reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and stared into his pale green eyes as emotions, so varied and rich she couldn’t identify them all, flashed across their surfaces. His mouth was tight, his body hard and he held perfectly still as he waited for her to make her final decision.

Still watching his eyes, Maggie slid her fingers through his hair and said, “I just accepted it, Culhane. This life. And you.” Then, tired of talking, of reasoning, of thinking, she put an end to the conversation the surest way she knew how.

She kissed him. Slanting her mouth over his, Maggie poured everything she was into the act. Her lips parted, her tongue slid into his mouth and instantly, her entire body lit up like a giant Christmas tree. She sparkled; she shone, inside and out. She felt the magic pooling between them and gave herself up to it completely.

Culhane groaned in response, tightened his arms around her middle and held her so she could hardly breathe. But then, she thought wildly, who needed air? His tongue delved into her mouth, dueling with hers in an ancient dance of want and need. His grip on her relaxed only enough to allow him to stroke his hands up and down her spine, along her sides, to her breasts.