Dark Enchantment (20 page)

At that precise moment, one of the logs in the grate snapped in half, the resounding crack shattering the intimate exchange. Caleb reached for the coffeepot and warmed her cup.

“You needn’t look so distressed,
a ghrá
. Meself and me father were after sorting things out between ourselves in later years. Now, enough about that. For what’s the point in opening up old wounds? Dredging up things best left buried in the past?”

Her response was soft, but firm. “First, because an old wound has a tendency to fester if it’s not opened, cleaned and allowed to heal. And, second,” she said, with a gentle smile. “A burden too heavy for one becomes easily manageable when borne by two.”

The sage advice elicited a pensive pause on Caleb’s part. “Fair enough. But now that we’ve opened and cleaned and healed and shared, what else will you be having to eat?”

Arianna pushed her plate away with an exaggerated groan. “Absolutely nothing. I don’t usually do breakfast and I’m absolutely stuffed to the gills.”

“Grand. Now, I’ve to be off to the bank in a wee while. If you fancy coming with me into town, we can call over to the cottage afterward. Check to see there’ve been no further problems.”

“Sounds like a plan. Do I have time to dash back to my room for a quick shower?”

“No worries. I still have to shave.” Caleb stood and held the back of her chair as she got up. “I’ll meet you in the foyer at, say…half-eight. Oh, and I’ve some contacts with glaziers and handymen. I’ll organize someone to meet us there today to bid on the job.”

“That would be superb.” At the door, she gave him a peck on the cheek.

After she’d gone, Caleb scooped his mobile off the table beside the recliner. When his call was answered, he gave a quick explanation about the break-in. “Just mind you bid low enough so she won’t be tempted to ring anyone else. ‘Twill be herself paying you for the labor and supplies. But sure I’ll be hiring you, as well…for an additional service. Call it body guard duty. I want you minding her, staying with her whenever she’s there. Never leave her alone, mate.
Never.
And our arrangement’s to remain confidential, just between ourselves.”

Caleb ended the conversation with a self-satisfied sigh.

Chapter Twenty-one

T
hey spent the better part of the day at the cottage, sifting through rubble. A contractor showed up to bid on the job and Caleb advised she wouldn’t get a better price. As he knew the local market a whole lot better than she did, Arianna hired the man on the spot.

They arrived back at the keep shortly before dinner. Arianna dashed upstairs to shower off the smell of smoke and grime. As planned, she joined Caleb in the courtyard for a pre-dinner walk to the stables and found him standing beside an Irish wolfhound as tall as a Shetland pony.

Leaning down, she gave his ruff a good, hard scratch with both hands. “Aren’t you handsome?” The animal lifted a giant paw to shake her hand, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth like a puppy.
Love at first sight.

“I can’t believe you’ve no fear of the great, black beast,” Caleb commented. “Or the way he’s taking to you. Our
Torann
isn’t one to suffer fools gladly.”

“Hey, wait a minute! Did you just call me a fool?” Grinning up at Caleb, she gave the massive canine a final scrub. “What did you say his name is?”

“
Torann
.” At her quizzical look, he explained, “Gaelic for ‘thunder’.”

With the dog loping alongside them, they ambled down the curving drive, making small talk as a watery sun played hide-and-seek with purple clouds. The November wind was sharp and brisk and stirred the scent of pine into the salty air. Arianna zipped up her hooded jacket as they veered off the main path not far from the keep. “A short cut,” Caleb told her, holding back some willow branches for her to duck beneath. The serpentine trail they were on twisted through a dense thicket of centuries-old trees and evergreens threaded with tender plants, saplings and seedlings.

In great form, Arianna’s comedic repertoire first included tripping over the swollen root system of an ancient oak. Then, for an encore, her foot sank to the ankle in some unexpectedly loamy soil, causing her to stumble again—this time right into Caleb’s arms.

“Walk much?” he chuckled as he hooked an arm through hers.

“Shut up,” she said playfully. “Oh yeah, any word yet on when Granny’s coming home? I’d like to drop over to her place to see her.”

Arianna watched his jaw twitch. A tell, the muscle contraction so miniscule she would have missed it if she hadn’t come to know him so well. “What? Is that a problem?”

“Course it isn’t,” he protested, then hedged. “It’s just that she’ll be fretting about your safety if she finds out about the break-in.”

“Didn’t plan to tell her.” Arianna heard a faint neighing, caught a whiff of horseflesh. “Mmm… Stables must be near.”

“Just around the bend.”

The trail curved, then opened into a clearing at the center of a copse of primordial Scots pines. Large tree rhododendrons were scattered amongst them. The two of them tramped past a vine-covered stable behind a paddock constructed of rough-hewn logs. A boy of about sixteen, mucking out one of the stalls, raised a hand in greeting.

Caleb acknowledged him with a pleasant nod. “The office is over there.” He gestured at a small wooden hut. “You’ll be meeting my stud master.” Eyes alight with mischief, he added, “You know, yer man I was speaking with the night I kidnapped you.”

Arianna landed a playful punch on his right biceps. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?” He looped an arm around her neck, feigning a chokehold.

A wrinkled little man, about a hundred and fifty years old, appeared in the open door of the office. An amused twinkle lit his eyes at their antics. “Hiya, Caleb. How’s things?”

“Grand, grand. Arianna meet Colm.”

She smiled. “Hey.”

“I’m here to sign those papers you have for me.”

“Waiting for you on the desk,” the older gentleman replied.

Telling Arianna he’d be right back, Caleb disappeared into the office.

“What a lovely setting,” she said, to fill the awkward silence. “Like parkland.”

“Aye, some of the trees are centuries old.” The man wore a wooly hat, a faded brown denim jacket, dirty beige work pants, and mud-encrusted boots. Resembling some poor unfortunate one might find in a soup line, he scratched his bearded chin. “Microclimate here’s congruous to such growth. Now, if ye return to the keep in that direction,” he said, indicating toward the west, “you’ll find a pair of four-hundred-year-old yews standing guard at the entrance of the walled formal garden.” He went on to explain the garden had been planted in the
jardin potager
style, in specially designed rows, as opposed to the informal landscaping everywhere else.
Never judge a book
.

As Caleb re-joined them, she thanked the man for the expert lesson in horticulture. “Colm told me about the ancient yews,” she said to Caleb. “Can we go back that way?”

“Absolutely.”

As they continued along the scraggly path, Arianna looked to the sky, where pewter-colored clouds sketched the evening to come. “I love the musky smells of a forest.” She took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh scents of flowers, leaves and green plants layered amongst the more fecund smells of rich, dark earth and the underlying essence of decay. Through the leafless branches, she could see that the sun hung low in the western sky. “I’d love to watch the sun set. Do we have time to make it to that place overlooking the sea, where I saw you that day?”

Arianna didn’t mention the lightning. For some reason, ever since that night at the restaurant, just the thought of it gripped her throat in a chokehold.

Caleb grew quiet. She remembered the strange dream she had had of his mother’s funeral. The young boy she had encountered standing alone amongst the brambles, staring forlornly over that same rocky ledge at the sea below. Suddenly she perceived the enormity of her request—that he share with her his private sanctuary. A refuge that had been his alone, since he had been that small neglected child.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked. That’s been your personal space since you were a boy.”

He turned, and considered her. “How is it you know that?”

She looked down for a moment, then just shook her head.

Brows drawn together, he continued to stare at her for several moments. Then, as if he had made a decision, he nodded. “We’ll go there now.”

An overwhelming rush of compassion filled her heart. Oh, God, how she longed to take him in her arms, hold him, love him, rescue that sad and lonely little boy hiding deep within the man. That one she had watched from a castle window walking along the desolate shore late at night. His inclusion of her, his invitation to join him at his sacred place, felt like she had crossed some great divide. Scaled the lofty heights of a mountain peak.

Caleb threaded his fingers through hers and led her due west, toward the setting sun. Just past the ancient yews and formal walled garden they were passing on the way, her eyes lighted upon an extraordinary Gothic-styled edifice, the size of a small castle. “The mausoleum,” she said softly, looking up at him. “The one your father had constructed in your mother’s memory.”

At his brief nod, a shiver traveled the length of her spine. She began speaking quietly, describing to him every square inch of the small chapel housed within, including how the sun’s rays filtered through the stained glass windows and splashed a spray of rainbow colors onto the polished oak of the pews.

He grew silent, reflective. ‘Another vision?” She nodded and gave his hand a subtle squeeze, which he returned.

When they reached the western border of the property, where she had seen Caleb from the coast below, he ordered Torann to stay. Though the great beast yipped and whined in protest, he sat obediently beside the crumbling wall. Caleb climbed out onto a wide section of the lichen-patterned outer bawn, then reached out and pulled Arianna over beside him. They sat side-by-side, feet dangling over the edge, a wild and majestic view stretching out for miles in front of them. He scooted back against the curtain wall and urged her to move between his thighs. Then he tugged her against his chest, forearms crossed over her shoulders, and hugged her in a warm embrace.

“Like eagles in a medieval aerie,” she said, hardly able to hear her own words for the deafening rush of wind in her ears. It was as if the two of them were perched at the very apex of creation. With her fear of heights, Arianna knew she should have been terrified, sitting balanced precariously on a crumbling stone wall at the edge of a precipice, the strong winds tugging at her insistently, trying to pull her over the ledge. And yet, snuggled against Caleb’s strong body, she felt as safe as a child in its mother’s arms.

Above them were the vast and changing skies. Below, the barren hillside sloped dramatically toward the sea. The boundless landscape of the distant valley would be glorious in the spring, she mused, when the hills were awash with color, when the rust-colored heather and fuchsia hedges burst into flame. The dappled green of the clover fields would become a lush blanket beneath the leafy canopies of the birch, the white-flowered mountain ash, the large-leafed elm and the yew.

“God, I could sit here like this forever,” she sighed.

Caleb rested his chin on the crown of her head and tightened his arms around her. Her heart filled, overflowed with emotion. Gentle as a prayer, it came to her. The quiet knowledge that she loved this man.
This
one. Not the perfect man of dreams and illusion. But this one, with his quiet, brooding ways, his annoying macho tendencies.

In this small tucked-away spot peace was to be found. Serenity in the matchless splendor of the rivers and lakes, the mountains, heath and bogs. The special way the sun set the heavens ablaze with its glory, fiery coppers tempered with molten gold. Arianna understood now why Caleb would hold this place sacrosanct.

She understood other things now, as well. Like why her father had come to her after his death. Caleb was the reason he had sent her home to Ireland. Hadn’t he told her it was here that she would meet her destiny? This man…the man of her dreams.

And if Da hadn’t passed away, what then? Would she never have known Caleb? Or had their encounter been predestined? The uncanny intertwining of their lives preordained?

Sliding Doors.
She had found the movie based on the premise of the road not taken thought provoking. The questions it asked profound. Were the alternate realities of a person’s life the result of choices made or simple happenstance?

If she hadn’t come here to Ireland, would she have moved on with her life, convinced that her dream lover was only a figment of her imagination? Would she and Damien have been intimate by now? Very likely, given how close they were growing before she had left. And if so, would their relationship have taken a predictable course? Would she have agreed to live with him? Eventually, to marry him?

A shattering thought. What if Da had died a year from now? Five years? And, God forbid, she had returned to Ireland then, another man’s wife. Perhaps, having borne another man’s child. Arianna hastily banished the thought, refusing to dwell on something that felt too much like grief. A sick, interminable heartache…the tragic notion of not being free to love the man whose arms surrounded her now in a protective circle.

She shivered, and Caleb brushed his lips against the back of neck. “Come, we’ll go now,
a ghrá
. Sure, supper’s waiting.”

* * *

After dinner, which was a smaller production tonight without the addition of special guests at the head table, Caleb invited her on a grand tour of the main library. It was a vast room teeming with book-lined shelves. Knowing her love of old tomes, he directed her attention to several glass-encased volumes.

“Incunabula,” she exclaimed, correctly identifying the rare texts printed in Europe before the year 1501. “These are museum pieces.”

Together they moved along the floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall bookshelves, perusing the thousands of titles on display. “Pick something to take upstairs with you,” he suggested. He felt strangely contented to see her pluck a leather-bound copy of Romeo and Juliet off the shelf and squint at the original script. By the time they left the room, she had several selections tucked in the crook of her arm.

At the door to her suite, he bent his head and kissed her goodnight. Her lips trembled beneath his, and just that moist, velvety touch set his body on fire.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, attempting to battle the erotic surge arcing between them. ‘Twas a fight the wee woman seemed intent on seeing him lose. She stepped boldly into his arms, all lean, toned muscle and feminine curves. Hers was the body of an athlete, no fat, no unwanted padding, but plush and pliant in all the right places.

“I don’t understand what’s been between us all these years, Caleb. But I’ve lo— I’ve cared about you forever. And I want you to kiss me now, hold me, touch me like before.”

He could smell the enchantment of her arousal intermingled with the tangy spice of her fear of the unknown. Fear that would be abject terror if she had any concept of what manner of being she was enticing with her bold words. Sliding his hands through her hair, he held her head in place, forcing her to look up at him. “Have you any idea of the risk you’re taking?” he asked quietly.

“I know there’s…something…about you that I don’t understand. But I don’t care. I know all I need to know about you. I want to experience here, now, what we had before.”

He might not be
only
a man, Caleb thought, but sure a man he was. And, God forgive him, he would test himself this night, partake of what she was offering. To an extent.

Still holding her face gently between his hands, as if she were one of his priceless museum treasures, he bent to nibble her lips, once, twice. Then he traced the seam of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. She sighed into the kiss and his tongue slid inside her mouth, to explore the moist, warm depths welcoming him home.

“Mmm, you taste just as I remember?” he whispered, his hands caressing her shoulders, her back. Cupping the rounded cheeks of her womanly bottom, he bent his knees slightly, then lifted her. She whimpered into his mouth as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing herself against the hot, hard length of what she tempted. What she dared.