Defending Destiny (The Warrior Chronicles) (8 page)

Just what he needed. More sensuality surrounding him while Daisy’s hand caressed his.

Daisy pulled him to a curved concrete bench. It had been built for two, but he was a big man and she was forced to touch her leg to his if she didn’t want to fall off. She didn’t fall. She pressed against him instead, looking up into his eyes with laughter and a conspiratorial gleam. She was more open with him now than she’d been in years, and he didn’t want to ruin the moment for either of them with thoughts of ripping her shorts off and playing statue games.

“Have you ever seen anything like that?” Daisy laughed, just like she used to, open and free, like it began in her toes and worked its way all the way up and out. When she wasn’t hiding how she felt, anyone with eyes could see she felt with every molecule of her, body and spirit. Magnus pushed thoughts of her stripping her bare away and smiled back.

“I’ve never seen Lauren react like that. Plenty of other men, but not MacBain. I think Merry Peacock cast a spell on him.”

Magnus watched as Daisy caught her breath. His eyes traveled from her heaving chest to her face, focusing on the way she was biting her lip while still trying to smile. How did she do that? When he looked again into her clover-honey eyes, she was looking at him like he was somebody else. Was he ever going to figure out how to act around her again? She was still holding onto his hand. He guessed that was a good sign.

Her voice was quiet and quivering slightly when she spoke. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Her gaze slid from his to his mouth, then back again. He lost his smile.

“Like you want this.”

Suddenly his hand was free and both of hers were in his hair, massaging his nape as she pulled his lips to hers. Her full pink lips were parted slightly, her eyes mere slits, her hands, surprisingly strong, were relentless in the pressure she was exerting. When he didn’t respond quickly enough, she maneuvered her way onto his lap.

He pulled his head back and watched her face, trying to decipher exactly what she wanted from him. Magnus wasn’t sure she shared the same idea of an ideal outcome of this that he did. Until he knew what she was thinking about where this was headed he needed to slow things down. This cold, hot, friendly, not-so-friendly thing they had going was tying him in knots and he was too bloody old to feel this off-kilter.

Perhaps he should have seen it coming, but nothing Daisy had done or said since he dragged her half naked from the pool and out of
Gerry’s
arms had prepared him for the reality of her straddling him with that come-hither Mona Lisa smile on her lovely face. She was taking the lead with him, and it was obvious this was not a new thing for her. That fact irritated him, since he’d deluded himself that she’d been chastely waiting for him all these years.

He wanted her, no doubt about that. But when he sank inside her, he planned on being the last one there. The only one, from that day forward. That’s it. That’s all. He simply wanted all of her. Heart, body, mind and soul. Forever. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.

He scowled, knowing for her it probably was.

Daisy gave a small laugh at his expression. She was rubbing her thumbs down the sensitive spot just behind his ears, making him shiver. “I’m going to kiss you now, Gus.” Her smile widened. “Resistance is futile.”

Then her lips were on his, parting, nipping, seeking entrance. He let her in, and the second her tongue touched his he was lost. He took over, he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to help it. Cupping the back of her head in one hand and her bum in the other, he stood. He held her to him, allowing her to wrap her legs around him before he put her where he’d wanted her since he pulled her from the pool. Flat on her back, knees high, with his pelvis crashing into hers.

She gave a low groan as he took her down, although he’d done so with as much gentleness as he was capable of, ensuring that he sheltered her from most of his weight. He deepened the kiss and she matched his need, gripping him with strong fingers, pulling him closer.

Magnus pulled away to run his lips across her face, to the shell of her ear, down her neck where she smelled of lavender and herbs and woman, back to her lips. Now that he had her where he wanted her, he took his time, learning the feel of her face, the curve of her cheek the sweetness of her lips all over again.

She whispered her name for him in his ear,
Gus.
It was like coming home. He never wanted to stop touching and tasting her.

He also wanted to fuck her senseless.

She reached for his belt when he dropped his forehead to hers and willed his heart to slow down. Daisy opened her chocolate-colored eyes, almost black now with enlarged pupils, as he stilled her determined hand. “This is going to happen again, Daisy.”

She made an
umm
sound in the back of her throat and lifted her hips, rubbing against his erection. “I sure hope so.” Her tone and her smile were light and teasing.

He felt heavy as a stone.

“Daisy, look at me.” Her smile dimmed a bit as she looked into his eyes. “I’m not going to stop touching you. I want you. No doubt about that.”

She started to speak. Magnus cut her off. “I won’t let you burn hot then turn ice cold with me. I’m not a toy you can play with when the mood strikes you and put away when you’ve had enough. I won’t let you shut me out. What we have is real. This”—he rolled his lower body over her, pushing her deeper into the soft grass—“is real. It’s happening and it will continue happening as long as we breathe the same air.”

Her eyes lost some of their shimmer at his seriousness. As much as he was sorry to see her lightheartedness flee, this was too important for there to be any misunderstandings between them.

Daisy pushed against his chest and he rolled to the side to let her up. He stood as quickly as she did. Suddenly the sun wasn’t shining quite as brightly as it was seconds before. Daisy gestured toward his erection straining against his jeans. “This won’t change anything between us, Magnus.”

Gus is still here, Daisy. Say you understand and little Gus can come out and play.

Magnus pulled her to him again, holding her as she squirmed to get away. “Don’t kid yourself, lass. This changes everything.” Then he kissed her again, softly, persuasively. All tact, no force. She went absolutely stick-like in his arms. Magnus let her go, angry with her lack of response and his inability to make her want him the way he wanted her.

“You will make love to me again.”
You will love me again.
“I care too much about this, about
you
,
to be your fuck buddy.”

Daisy jerked back at his vulgarity. Magnus squared his shoulders. All he’d done was called a spade a spade. She looked like she wanted to say something before she slammed her mouth shut. Her gaze bored into him, burning a hole through his heart. By the time his heart started beating again, she was gone.

Magnus looked up into the robin’s-egg-blue sky dotted with white fluffy clouds and contemplated how he could have said all that without pissing her off. The day held so much promise seconds ago. He shook his head at his own folly. Looking down at his still-throbbing erection, he wondered if he should just go behind a tree and see to himself. He wasn’t likely to get Daisy naked anytime soon.

He decided against it. Repositioning himself so it wasn’t so bloody painful, he addressed little Gus. “Well, laddie, I think it’s my head and not yours that got us in the muck this time. One of these days we’re going to have to get on the same page and see the thing done properly.”

His cock didn’t respond.

CHAPTER TEN

Top 10 Reasons to Join a Monastery:

1. I won’t run into Magnus. He’s no monk.

2. My ability to jump virile giant Highlanders will be severely limited.

3. I won’t have to beat myself up after trying to jump said unsuspecting male giant’s bones.

4. Since I’m not interested in jumping any male bones, besides Magnus’, refer back to number 1.

“So really, I have one reason to join a monastery, and that’s not going to help me since I have no intention of remaining celibate one day longer than I have to.”

Daisy didn’t mind talking to herself when no one else was around to hear her. Most of the time it made her feel better. She’d perfected the fine art of conversing with herself as a toddler. It was a family trait. Aside from her mother, she was the best multi-role debater in her extended family. No one she knew thought in opposing syllogisms like she did. The best thing about pretending to play her mother in her head was that Reed was more than three thousand miles away.

“Thank the Lord and Lady for that. How would that exercise in self-flagellation start?”

Daisy thought for a moment, then continued in her most logical, debate voice. “Hey Mom, I’d like to get laid and the object of my desire, the man I left at the altar, and your best friend’s son, doesn’t want me unless I give him my heart, oh, and yeah, and the better part of my soul.”

She paused for effect. “I’d rather walk over burning coals than open up to Magnus like that again. Since I only want him for his body, he turned me away. Oh, and this bit you’ll love, that was after I jumped into his lap and stuck my tongue down his throat. So, Mom, options?”

Daisy shook her head at her own perfidy. At least saying that to her mom wouldn’t be as embarrassing as getting skewered by Magnus’ gray gaze in quite that holier-than-thou way again.

She responded in her mother’s slightly higher-pitched voice, “Why Daisy, I applaud your inner sensualist. It’s beyond time for you to take control of your sexuality and go after what you want. I’m so proud of you, darling, but could you possibly jump in some other man’s lap? Preferably after you’ve received his clean blood test and sexual history questionnaire? It’s a big world out there, and you can’t be too careful.”

“Yes, Mom,” Daisy responded in her own voice. “I’ll get on that as soon as I feel the need to jump on some random stranger.”

The conversation went slightly differently when she imagined having it with her father. It had a more…
homicidal
outcome.

“I’m so screwed.” Daisy sighed heavily, feeling her shoulders drop.

She heard the distinctive click of a camera shutter. Then ten or more in rapid succession as Gerry Butler stepped out from behind a large Celtic cross gravestone about twenty feet in front of her.

“Apparently not,” he said. “But I’m more than happy to take care of that for you.” He put a hand to his chest and said seriously, “I’m only interested in your body. Honest, I swear”.

Then he grinned at her, letting the camera dangle from the strap around his neck as he reached for his back pocket. “As it happens, I carry my sexual history questionnaire with me.”

Daisy was startled for a split second, then so relieved to see a friendly face she didn’t have to be self-conscious around, she laughed. Crossing to him, she looped her arm in his and rose up onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I needed that.” And she did. Thoughts of Magnus had a way of turning her inside out.

They walked side by side through the churchyard. Gerry shot pictures of gravestones as the mood struck him. It was a beautifully bright day and there was a pleasant feeling to the place, Daisy thought. Gerry leaned over and showed her some of what he’d just taken, surprising her with the tangible magic and mystery he was able to capture through his lens. When it came to his art, Gerry Butler had no peer.

Gerry was as comfortable shooting stills of bikini-clad women for
Sports Illustrated
as he was shooting mothers cradling their bullet-ravaged children in war-torn areas of Bosnia, Afghanistan, or tribal Africa. His work was so raw, so haunting and in some cases so elementally beautiful, it graced museums all over the world. To see one of Gerry’s photos was to be drawn into the story it told. Lauren had several of Gerry’s photos in every one of his museums and galleries.

Daisy marveled at how different the man was from his work. Gerry seemed to pour every ounce of true emotion into his work. All that he let the world see of him was the devil-may-care man who took little seriously, even his own safety. On the outside, Gerry appeared to have the sincerity of a gnat.

Yet, when she needed a friend, he’d appeared, saying exactly the right thing to make her laugh at herself. He was very welcome indeed.

…

Magnus saw Daisy’s easy camaraderie with
Gerry the naked cameraman,
through the second-story window of what he’d staked out as Daisy’s bedroom in Kilmartin House. The man was about as welcome as a plague of locusts or an infestation of killer bees.

Magnus heard Lauren come up behind him, but he didn’t turn. “She needs someone to laugh with,” Lauren said.

Magnus grunted.

“You’re not going to get her to open up to you playing the surly, put-upon neanderthal. You’re acting like it’s her job to woo you,” Lauren said, sounded vaguely disappointed in him.

“You should be taking every opportunity she gives you to be close to her. You’re the one who has something to prove here. Daisy lives with more passion than any woman I know. You made her heart hurt. It’s up to you to heal it. Step up to the plate, man, or get off the field.”