Beguiled (19 page)

He frowned. “Of course I have a first name. Doesn’t everyone?”

She’d always thought so, but in all the time they’d spent together, Maggie had never heard him called anything other than Culhane. “So what is it?”

“Unimportant,” he assured her, and dropped one hand to rub his thumb across one of her nipples.

“That’s cheating.” She sucked in a gulp of air, grabbed his hand and stilled it, despite the celebration going on down in her hoo-hah. Her hormones were already putting on their party hats for a second go-round and God knew, she hated to disappoint them, but . . . “Good distraction. Now, what’s your name?”

“I am Culhane.” He shrugged. “It has always been enough.”

“Uh-huh.” Wildly curious now, mostly because he was actually refusing to answer her, Maggie sat up straight, tossed her hair back from her face and folded her arms beneath her boobs. “Come on, let’s have it. Is it embarrassing or something? Howard? Dwayne?”

“There are other things we could be doing,” he muttered.

Oh yes, and she really wanted to. But first things first. “Come on now, tell the Queen. Please, God, your name’s not Lance. I knew a Lance once. A complete dweeb.”

He sighed. “It is not Lance.”

“Horace?”

“No.”

“Stanley?” Maggie was grinning now, enjoying watching Culhane squirm uncomfortably. Had she finally found a chink in the warrior’s armor? He was always so arrogant. So sure of himself. Yet ask him his name and he turned all sulky and crabby. Yep, she was enjoying herself.

“No. There are no Fae named Stanley.” Clearly irritated, Culhane pushed off the bed, waved one hand in the air and instantly, he was dressed in his usual clothes. Brown pants, green shirt, brown leather boots and a knee-length brown coat. Even his long, thick hair was neatly gathered at his neck. The image of a man completely at home with himself. Confident.

He looked, let’s face it, spectacular.

Maggie wanted him all over again. Her entire body quivered at the thought. But, she guessed, playtime was over. His features were implacable, his stance that of a hard, ruthless man ready to fight at a moment’s notice. Not a trace of tenderness could be found in his eyes. They were cool and steely as if he’d already separated himself from what had gone on before. Only moments ago, he’d been the kind of lover most women could only dream about. Now he was the warrior she knew him to be.

“Okay, you win this round,” she conceded. “I suppose we have bigger problems to deal with at the moment than your name—”

He inclined his head.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m forgetting about it,” she warned. “I will find out.”

“No,” he said, with the barest hint of a smile. “You won’t.”

“You’re a hard man, Culhane,” Maggie told him as she scooted off the bed and faced him. She didn’t miss the quick flick of his gaze as he took her in and she relished the flash of heat that look engendered. Still, if he was already dressed, party time was over for the moment. “So. Can you do me?”

His mouth quirked. “I believe I just have.”

“Not what I meant. Nobody likes a funny warrior.” Yet her mouth curved in amusement anyway. “Clothes. I meant can you dress me as quickly as you did you?”

He lifted his hand again and just like that, Maggie was wearing her favorite style of jeans, a dark blue sweater and a new pair of fabulous black boots.

“Excellent,” she said, and bounced experimentally on her toes. “They’re even comfortable. You’re a lot hand ier than the mall, Culhane.”

He smiled. “I live to serve, my Queen.”

“Cool.” She grinned. “Now, I think we should get back to my house and let everyone know about Mab.”

He shook his head firmly. “That is not wise. I will go and get your family. Bring them to the palace for safekeeping.”

Maggie laughed. “You can’t be serious. This is Mab’s old home. She knows her way around here way better than I do. Nora and Eileen wouldn’t be safe in the palace. They’re better off in the mortal world.”

He smiled at her.

“What?”

“That’s the first time you haven’t called the mortal world
your
world.”

“Huh.” She blinked, thought about that for a second or two and was surprised to realize he was right. For weeks now, Otherworld had been his, the mortal world, hers. She wasn’t sure when the shift had taken place, but it seemed that even her subconscious was recognizing the truth. She really had made her decision. This was home now. This world. This palace.

Him.

“You’re right.”

“I am pleased.”

“Happy to help,” she said, then added quickly, “I’m not giving up the mortal world entirely though, okay? I want to keep my house there and spend time there as well. This will be home base, but that world still has a part of me, too.”

“I understand.”

“You know,” Maggie told him softly, “I think you really do. Which just makes this whole thing much easier.”

She gave a quick look around the throne room. The bed was gone, thanks no doubt to more of Culhane’s magic. But it would be back if they needed it—not that she needed a bed in the throne room. But some chairs, maybe a few of her paintings on the walls, a couch or two and some brightly colored rugs. And a fireplace in here and in her bedroom.

“Hey,” she said, “do I even
have
a bedroom here?”

“Several,” he said, smiling at her again as if he were really enjoying her getting into the whole queen thing. Well, good. He could enjoy. She’d be nervous.

“Good. Okay.” She nodded to herself. “We’ll get around to redecorating later. Maybe Claire can help. Not Nora, though. She’d hang wind chimes and mac ramé pot holders all over the place.”

She was really going to do this, Maggie thought. Be a queen. Live in a palace. As those thoughts rolled through her mind, she waited for an internal shriek of panic to erupt. But it didn’t. A good sign? Or was she just too crazy to realize the enormity of what she was doing?

From outside the palace came the sounds of music. Pipes, fiddles, drums. It was a lively tune, bright, upbeat, optimistic. Maggie was glad for it and took it as a good sign. She would soon be facing plenty of problems and she liked hearing something that sounded so stubbornly cheerful.

“This is going to work,” she murmured, more to herself than Culhane. She could do this. She would do this. Her grandfather had always told her that the key to getting anything done was to just do it. Stop standing around. Jump in with both feet and get it done.

If you screwed it all up, you could always fix it.

“We should speak to the warriors before we go to your sister,” Culhane was saying. “They may have further word of Mab.”

“No.” Maggie looked right at him and silently dared him to argue with her. If she was going to be Queen, then she should practice putting her foot down occasionally. Could you take queen lessons, she wondered, then dismissed the notion. The only queen she was vaguely aware of was Elizabeth, and what could a woman who carried an empty purse teach her?

“We’ll go to my house first. I need to warn Nora now. Get her and Eileen to leave the guesthouse and move into my place. If we’re all in one spot, we’ll be safer.”

“But you’re staying here,” he reminded her.

“Soon,” she told him, and saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. Well, she couldn’t help that. He’d find out soon enough that she meant what she’d said. The palace would be home for her, but at the moment, other things had priority. “For right now, I need to be with my family.”

“Maggie . . .”

“Just draw the portal, okay? We’ll see Nora, then the warriors. . . .”

He did as she asked, though she could tell he was irritated. Ooh. News flash.

A golden circle opened up in front of her. Familiar scents of home blew in from the center of that circle and Maggie moved toward it; then she remembered something, stopped and said over her shoulder, “We also need to talk about the female guards. I want them to be warriors, too.”

“You
what
?”

“I spoke to Ailish about this. Flying warriors.
Big
advantage. Huge.” She stepped through the portal, still talking, and so didn’t hear Culhane’s shout of outrage until they were standing in her kitchen.

“Ooh, cookies.” Maggie walked straight for the cooling rack on the counter. She hadn’t even realized just how famished she was. Great sex really could make you hungry. Good thing she had that superfast Fae metabolism thing going for her now, because the way she was feeling, she could inhale the whole kitchen.

“Hello to you, too,” Nora said as she tucked another full cookie sheet into the oven.

“Hi, Nora. Good cookies.” Maggie took a big bite and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.” She chewed, then swallowed and reached for another still-warm cookie. “We need to talk about something.”

“Aunt Maggie, hi,” Eileen said. “Finn told Mom and Quinn about how I accidentally let Mab out of her painting.”

“I can’t believe they had her in a painting where anyone could have touched her,” Nora said with a shake of her head. “You’d think a wizard would have been smarter.”

“Good point,” Maggie told her, grateful that Finn had already broken the news. Looked like Nora was taking it all right. Of course, when Maggie’s sister was nervous or worried, or for that matter happy or excited, she liked to bake. Kept her mind off things and kept her busy. Which worked well for Maggie, because in times of stress or joy, Maggie liked to eat.

“Oh,” Eileen said with excitement, “also, Mom says I can be a Fae if I want to. And Quinn says you know how to make me one, so I’m like completely ready to—”

“No, you’re not.” Nora gave her “the look.” Maggie was pretty sure they taught that move to new mothers right after giving birth.

“Anyway”—Maggie shifted a look at Quinn, who stood close to Nora—“I need to talk to you, too.”

“No,” Culhane told her as he stepped through the portal right behind her, “
we
need to talk.”

“Trouble in Torea,” Bezel muttered.

“Huh?” Eileen whispered.

“Think heaven but better,” the pixie told her.

“Fine, but I want to talk about becoming a Fae. Mom said I could and—”

Maggie ignored Eileen’s complaint along with everyone else, turned around to look at Culhane and saw that he was practically vibrating with banked fury. It was written all over his features. His pale eyes were flashing and his jaw was tight as he gritted his teeth.

Damn. What could have gone so wrong in one short portal jaunt?

“What’s wrong with you?”

He glared at her as if she were crazy. “You want the female guard to join the warriors?”

“
Impossible!
” Quinn bellowed.

“What a great idea,” Nora said, and dropped more cookie dough onto an aluminum sheet.

“According to my research, female Fae are just as mean in a fight as men, and they can fly,” Eileen reminded them all. “I mean, remember how tough Mab was?” She frowned. “Um, let’s not talk about Mab.”

“Knock it off, kid,” Bezel muttered, his gaze flicking from Maggie to Culhane and back again. “This is one fight we don’t want a part of. Trust me on this.”

Quinn crossed his arms over his enormous chest, scowled at Maggie and declared, “The females cannot be warriors.”

“Why the hell not?” Nora demanded, then caught herself, glanced at Eileen and said, “Heck. I meant, heck.”

“It is not possible.” Quinn ground out the words.

Then Nora turned on Quinn even while Maggie faced off with Culhane.

Culhane stared in disbelief at the woman who only an hour ago had cradled his body inside hers. They’d connected on a level he’d never before reached with a woman. Their minds, souls and hearts had touched. Bonded.
How
could she possibly think he would go along with this foolish plan?

“You do not know what you’re asking,” he said as calmly and patiently as he could manage.

“Not asking,” Maggie told him. She was responding to his ferocity by letting her own temper rise. “Telling. I’ve already decided this, Culhane. I talked to Ailish and she and the other females are ready and eager to fight. You can use them, so hey, makes sense all the way around.”

“You cannot do this.”

“Just back up a step or two, Mr. Warrior. I’m the Queen here. Remember?”

“Good point, Mags!” Nora cheered for her sister, and glared at her warrior.

Fine
, Culhane admitted silently. He’d handled that badly. He shouldn’t have corrected her in front of her family and Quinn—not to mention, Bezel. When his Queen was in error, Culhane should calmly and quietly take her aside and show her the correct way of things. It is how he had always planned on her reign progressing. This was just going to take some time. After all, the greatest hurdle had been met. She had decided to accept her duty. Move to the palace. Rule Otherworld.

Now all they needed was for her to learn
how
to rule. So he tried again. More calmly this time. Though it was difficult.

“My Queen, I meant no disrespect, of course—”

“You’re insane, too! You can’t think to allow this, Culhane! The warriors will not stand for it!” Quinn shouted, and Culhane spared him one long, fulminating look.

“You’re a genderist,” Nora accused, a horrified look on her face.

“A what?”

“You’re discriminating against the women because of their gender. Okay, there’s probably a better word for it, but you know what I mean.”

“Love,” Quinn said, “I am not angry with you. . . .”

“Lame,” Bezel muttered.

“Maggie,” Culhane continued in a voice loud enough to drown out everyone else’s so that he might regain her attention, “surely you see that to bring females into the Warrior clan could not possibly work.”

“Nope,” she said, grabbing up another cookie and taking a bite. “Don’t see that at all.”

Culhane took a slow, deep breath and
willed
himself to calm. She was doing this on purpose. There were too many people in this room; that was all. She felt backed into a corner because he had handled her badly. All he had to do was take her aside, explain the way of things and then she would do the right thing and agree with him.