Druid Surrender (A Druid Quest Novel Book 1) (25 page)

* * *

B
righid pushed
a sweaty strand of hair off her face and glared at the offending painting. After hours of search, she now knew the location of every painting, but no matter how fast she moved, she always remained one step behind the rascal.

Needing to get away from the insanity, she wandered out into the gardens.

She trailed her fingers over the leaves of a lilac bush and noticed a new bench in the place of the one she destroyed. Wyatt must have taken this seat from a different part of the garden. Brighid sat down gingerly, thankful when it didn’t fall prey to her rogue magic. She tilted her head back, lifted her face to the sun, and soaked up the heat. She allowed the smell of roses and lilacs to soothe her. Lost in thought, she heard no one approach until a light touch landed on her face.

Startled, she jumped and stood in surprise. Wyatt remained still, studying her from head to foot, as if he expected her to run. Uncomfortable under his intent stare, she backed away from him. “You surprised me.”

“I saw you from the study. You looked so beautiful, I had to come see if you were real.”

Her throat tightened at the blunt compliment. There was a hunger in his eyes that tempted her closer, telling her she could have anything she wanted if she but had the courage to reach out and take it. Only when a tree pressed against her spine did she became aware she’d been shuffling backwards. Her hair snagged on the bark, effectively trapping her in place.

Wyatt followed, not stopping until his body was flush against hers. He carefully untangled her hair, his concentration fully on his task. His muscles flexed and the heat of him encircled her, seeping through her clothes, invading her senses. She opened her mouth to speak when he traced her cheek with the back of his knuckle, following an invisible path down to her mouth. He ran his thumb back and forth across her bottom lip, hypnotizing her with the light seduction. He leaned in further, and Brighid inhaled his intoxicating sandalwood scent.

A small smile slanted across Wyatt’s mouth, as if he knew full well the effect he had on her. From under her lashes, she watched his lips part, and imagined his mouth on hers.

She shouldn’t want him, but her body rebelled at the thought of walking away again. She wanted the freedom to touch him, have him touch her without fear or doubt.

All thoughts stopped as his lips skimmed hers in a gentle caress.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she craved more.

More of his touch.

More of him.

She leaned forward to deepen the kiss when he pulled back.

Brighid groaned in complaint and opened her eyes.

He clasped his hands behind his back, giving her the opportunity to flee, but his warm green eyes begged her to stay. “Kiss me.”

She blinked at the husky invitation, his need echoing hers so perfectly she found herself swaying toward him. She closed her eyes and waited for him to take what she offered.

Nothing happened.

“Open your eyes.”

She obeyed the command immediately. He slipped a hand along her jaw, guiding her where she most wanted to be.

In his arms.

His mouth took hers softly at first, then with more insistence.

Hunger for more twined through her, and Brighid tipped her head back, inviting him to take more, enticing him closer. His musky scent sent a thrill of desire coursing along her skin.

She groaned when his lips trailed down to her throat. When her knees weakened at the sinful sensations, he caught her close, pinning her against the tree, every intimate detail of him pressed against her.

She allowed her hands to wander over his chest, thrilled when his muscles quivered under her bold touch. Kisses rained down on her, becoming more aggressive.

More addicting.

One hand trailed up from her side to cup her breast. Caught off guard, Brighid arched into him, desperate to ease the ache he built…and felt his arousal against her belly. One hand dropped to her hip, almost as if he was afraid she would escape, and a low growl rumbled in his chest. Her breasts tingled, her body aching for more, eager for his next move. When he retreated instead, the haze around her lifted.

A bitter chill snaked around her at his rejection.

He sat on the bench, dragging her to stand between his splayed knees. His eyes dropped to her bosom just inches from his face. Flustered by the attention, she crossed her arms. Instead of being deterred, he placed his hands on her hips, then slowly gathered the material of her skirts into his fists.

Her dress crept upwards, and he stared at her as if gauging how far he could push her. To his delight, Brighid lifted her brow as if daring him to go further. His hands skimmed down to cup the back of her knees, a thin stocking the only thing that separated his callused hands from her skin. A shiver went down her spine at the forbidden touch, and her hands dropped to his shoulders to brace herself.

Then he used those muscles she so admired by lifting and depositing her on his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, leaving her at his mercy.

“Wyatt?” The vulnerability of the position caused blood to rush to her face. “People will see.”

“The dress is draped over both of us. No one can see anything.” His hands slid farther up the outside of her legs, his fingers tracing the edge of her stockings lightly, trailing heat in a leisurely caress that bedeviled her thoughts.

She squirmed under his delicious touch, wanting more.

“Unbutton your dress.”

Brighid pulled back, and his hands tightened, preventing her from falling at his feet. “What?”

“Do you like having me touch you?”

She nodded.

“You’ll like this more. We can stop at any time. You’re in charge.”

She bit her lip, beguiled by his raspy voice and the heat in his eyes. Needing to please him, she tugged down the sleeves until her dress and chemise rested precariously low on her bosom.

He grunted as if she’d struck him. His hands slid around her bottom, and he pulled her closer, his face inches away from her breasts. He nibbled along her neck, slipping lower until his teeth nipped the sensitive crook of her shoulder that made her wiggle on his lap.

A groan tore from him, and he pulled her tight against him.

The hard ridge of his arousal pressed intimately against her, and they both froze.

She held her breath as pleasure swirled in her blood.

His mouth lowered, nudging aside the top of her dress until her breast slipped free. Before she could protest, he sucked the tip of it into his mouth.

It was her turn to groan as he ravished her. She cradled his head close, raking her nails through his hair.

It wasn’t enough.

Frustrated by the tangle of clothes, she wrestled with the buttons of her dress, nearly unseating herself. Wyatt pulled her flush against him, the surprising action nudging her intimately against his shaft. Lost in a haze of pleasure, needing more, she rocked her hips.

Wyatt lifted his head, his eyes drunk on pleasure. “Do that again.”

Brighid was helpless to disobey.

One of his hands molded her breast, while the other disappeared beneath her skirts. Her stomach clenched as his fingers feathered against the insides of her thighs, leaving behind a flurry of desperate need. He traced the edge of her stocking, then moved higher…and finally brushed against her bare skin.

Everywhere he touched became sensitive, and she had no voice to protest when his callused fingers moved between her thighs. She squirmed against him, trying to close her legs on instinct, but found herself trapped.

She grabbed his wrist when his fingers touched her intimately.

Shocked pleasure held her still. Then his fingers moved and her eyes slid shut, the outside world forgotten as he deepened the caress. She arched into his hand, and a gasp of surprise escaped when the pleasure increased.

She shifted her hips again, wanting more, whimpering when he removed his magical touch.

“Tell me to stop.” He rested his forehead against hers, his hands tightening on her hips as if to prevent her from leaving. The hunger in his expression shot a thrill down her spine.

She ran her hand down the nape of his neck, leaned forward and nuzzled the delicate skin under his ear. A shudder went through him, his hips flexing slightly before he took back control by pulling away. His chest heaved as he struggled for breath. Then she whispered in his ear the only answer she could give him. “Don’t you dare.”

He growled low in his throat.

He leaned back, his eyes on hers, and reached for the closure of his trousers, the slight tremble in his hands easing any lingering doubts.

Then his cock sprang free.

Brighid couldn’t help but stare. Wyatt didn’t move, didn’t rush her, and she found herself curious. She reached out and touched him, trailing a finger down the length of his member, amazed at the heat and silky texture.

He hissed between his teeth, and she jerked away. Instead of letting her escape, he quickly grabbed her wrists. “Do that again.”

Pure lust darkened his eyes to a warm gray. Emboldened by his request, she wrapped her hand around his cock, marveling at the smooth hardness. She watched his reaction, noticing him tense in pleasure when she tightened her hold. Then she did it again.

He grabbed her wrist to halt her. “Enough. You can explore me later to your heart’s content…when I have more control. Right now, I want you too much.”

Her stomach pitched wildly at his confession. She gave him one more caress that made him inhale sharply before she relented.

Wyatt lifted her and pulled her close. The tip of him nudged her intimately, and she arched as wicked sensations bombarded her. The movement sent him deeper into her core, and her breath caught at the fullness. He flexed inside her, slowly letting her adjust. Brighid didn’t want slow, she wanted his out-of-control passion. She rocked against him until he was fully seated, ignoring his hiss of protest. The invasion was uncomfortable for a few seconds, and he distracted her by taking the tip of her breast into his mouth.

She gasped as desire thickened in her veins. Each time he flexed his hips, pleasure shot higher and higher. He was relentless, pushed her higher, until she went soaring. He grabbed her hips, moving in her so deeply she felt him swell and shout his release.

For the first time since he backed her against the tree, the fragrances of the greenery and flowers flowed over her, the scurrying and twitters of spring brought her back to her surrounds.

Wyatt kissed her temple, shocked by his actions. When he first saw her sitting on the bench, he was lured by her beauty. Dark red hair cascaded about her, a slight breeze tugging at the curls as if inviting him closer. He had to touch her. But one touch had led to another. Before he understood it, he was under her skirts.

He should feel ashamed for taking advantage and stealing her virginity in such a way, but all he felt was contentment.

She was his wife, and no one could refute it now.

And she had not objected.

Not once.

A fierce satisfaction surged through him.

It erased the last bit of guilt he harbored for taking her choices away, and he hugged her close, startled to feel himself harden inside her.

He wanted her again.

He lifted her off his lap and closed his trousers. He wouldn’t rut on her like a beast. She needed rest, she had to be sore. All he wanted to do was strip her bare, take her to bed and show her all the ways a man could love a woman.

The near irresistible impulse shocked him. He’d never reacted so quickly or so completely to anyone else. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, wanting to speak but was afraid to ruin the accord between them.

“Wyatt? Brighid?” Beth’s voice carried in the garden.

Brighid jumped like a scalded cat, scrambling to button her dress, and Wyatt waved her off. “Go. I’ll distract her.”

Her eyes softened, as if she would speak, and he felt his heart thump in anticipation, sure she was about to tell him that she loved him. The click of the cane stopped her short, and she fled with a small, pleased smile that made him harden all over again. Wyatt stifled his disappointment and inhaled deeply, willing his arousal away, thanking God his mother hadn’t appeared even a minute earlier.

B
righid dashed
into the house without a backward glance, her face hot at the thought of being caught making love in public. She fled down the hall as if the Inquisition chased her, the warm glow of their lovemaking bringing a blush to her face, and she couldn’t help smiling at the way he lost control.

Over her.

A loud crash echoed in the house.

She recognized the sound of trouble, she’d caused enough of it in her life to know firsthand. Turning the corner, she saw pieces of what was once a full suit of armor littering the hallway, the trail ending in a large pile with Paul in the middle.

A smile tugged at her heart, and she leaned over to tweak his nose. “Couldn’t resist peeking inside, could you?”

He scrubbed the tears on his cheek and pointed at her.

“You want me to fix it with magic?” Brighid swallowed hard and struggled against the impulse to run.

He nodded enthusiastically and clapped. Hundreds of pieces seemed to multiply even as she watched. She would never be able to put it together by hand.

Indecision made her stomach churn. She couldn’t pretend her magic wasn’t an important part of her life anymore.

It was time to stop hiding.

She drew Paul a few feet away. “You cannot move from this spot. Do you understand?”

He nodded enthusiastically, and Brighid ruffled his hair. The power answered eagerly, as if waiting for her summons. Heat prickled along her feet as her gifts swelled. Every hair on her body stood to attention.

Wind burst through the corridor. The pieces vibrated and clanked while they began to re-form. She closed her eyes to focus on the picture in her mind. In less than a minute, the world fell silent as her power left her.

She cracked opened her eyes, afraid to find out what new disaster would strike.

The suit of armor stood at attention.

Brighid studied each detail, searched every angle.

Everything seemed…perfect.

“It worked.” She couldn’t prevent a large, pleased smile from forming. She flexed her hands to remove the lingering ache, and grunted when she felt a pinch of pain. A glance at her palm made her gasp. Seared in the center was her own personal rune.

She touched the Celtic knot in awe, lightly tracing the ridged lines.

It signaled her training was complete.

She was now a full Druid master.

She curled her fingers over the symbol in a protective gesture, finally understanding what her mother had been trying to teach her. Her gifts were a part of her, not something she could hide or separate herself from. She had always assumed her powers refused to accept her completely and had searched in vain for answers, when she had them all along.

“We should leave before the noise draws anyone’s attention.”

Paul nodded as the magic lady walked away but continued to stare at the suit of armor.

Metal screeched when the helmet turned, following the lady as she disappeared around the corner. Paul jumped and sprinted after her as fast as his legs could carry him.

* * *

B
righid opened
the door to her room, more than ready to rest, a blush stealing into her cheeks as she recalled her wanton behavior with Wyatt. A shiver skated down her spine, tearing her away from her pleasant thoughts. It was a familiar sensation she had many times in the past. She released the knob and turned, looking both ways in the hall but saw nothing.

The feeling continued to grow.

Someone was watching her.

Then she understood.

She whirled. In two large steps, she stood before a scenic picture of Scotland that hung across from her very own room. Smoke curled out from the chimney’s cottage.

She leaned closer and felt a bit foolish as she whispered to the painting. “Wyatt?”

A curtain fluttered in the window, then the door opened, and a miniature Wyatt strode out onto the stoop.

“You have to go back to your own painting.” She infused power into her words, trying to make it a command.

Wyatt shook his head and rocked back on his heels. He blew her a kiss, waved and sauntered back inside, shutting the door behind him.

She snorted in exasperation.

Some master.

Tracking the miniature Wyatt was a complete nuisance, but she couldn’t help being charmed by his antics. She glanced both ways down the hall, then unhooked the paining and hurried to her room. She couldn’t afford questions. It was crucial that she be allowed to stay and protect Wyatt and his family.

She placed it next to the other two paintings he’d been known to inhabit when raised voices caught her attention.

Wyatt.

She gave a guilty start, convinced she’d been caught in the act. When she peered out the door, the hall was empty.

Curiosity drew her down the stairs, and she found herself hovering outside the study, uncertain whether she was ready to see Wyatt again so soon. Not until she could sort out her feelings. She almost turned away when the argument grew heated. Unable to help herself, she crept forward and pressed her ear against the door.

“We will only get one chance to do this right.”

“You’re right.” Aaron kept his voice calm but firm. “Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to punish you. He’s determined to destroy what you hold most dear. Dangling yourself out there will gain us nothing. There is only one person he will go after, and you know it.”

“I won’t allow Brighid to be used as bait.”

Little cracks spread over her heart when things clicked into place.

The ball wasn’t for the purpose of proudly introducing her as his wife, it was to set a trap. Proof that though he might want to protect her, he didn’t love her. Raw hurt tightened her throat. While the logical side of her applauded the plan, a little bit of her heart crumbled at the deception.

And be damned if she still didn’t want to protect him.

Not willing to examine her feelings further, she straightened, pushed open the door and strode into the room. Everyone fell silent and turned toward her. She met Wyatt’s gaze squarely and lifted her chin. “I volunteer.”

“Volunteer for what, love?” Wyatt smiled and walked toward her, his arms outstretched as if to gather her close.

Brighid quickly sidestepped. One touch and she would forget everything but the way he made her feel. She needed a clear head if she wanted to discover what she actually meant to him.

“I’ll be your bait.”

His face hardened, and his arm dropped to his side. “No. Absolutely not. I forbid it.”

A small muscle twitched in his jaw, and her heart lurched in hope that she meant more to him than a helpless female he felt obligated to protect.

Aaron sensibly kept quiet and settled himself next to Beth to watch the show. Brighid studied Wyatt as his gray-green eyes changed to pure, icy gray as he gazed at her, turning him into the cold and impersonal lord of the manor. She swallowed hard, imagining everything that had happened between them had been a cruel act, and she lashed out, wanting him to react in some way. “It makes sense. The man wants revenge against you. Isn’t the whole point for the fair to draw him out? Who better than your wife?”

“No.” Wyatt marched forward until they stood nose to nose. “I will not put you in danger.”

Another sting of hurt slashed through her. He didn’t even bother to deny that the ball had been a sham.

He must have sensed her slipping away and grabbed her arms as if to shake her. “Don’t you understand? This is our best chance to catch him. You’ll finally be safe.”

“The best chance?” Her smile wasn’t at all nice, but she was too shattered to care. “No, the best chance is to use me. Isn’t that what you want? For your life to go back to normal, the way it was before you ever met me? I’m already a target. It makes more sense that I play the part.”

“No. You are
my wife
.
Mine
to protect.” He emphasized each word by crowding closer until he loomed over her.

She searched for even the smallest sign that he cared, but she couldn’t penetrate the wall he’d erected between them. “Fine,” she said. “Set your trap. Let’s see if he goes after me while you’re busy elsewhere.”

Wyatt dropped his hands away, as if he couldn’t bear to touch her any longer, roughly raking the fingers of both hands through his hair. If she had to sacrifice herself to save him, she would do it in a heartbeat. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. Sensing him cracking, Brighid ruthlessly shoved home her point. “Wouldn’t you be able to keep me safe better with a plan in place and you there to protect me?”

Wyatt clenched his jaw and refused to speak.

Beth broke the stalemate. “I don’t want her in danger any more than you, but she has a point.”

“It could work.” Aaron spoke blandly and took a sip of his drink.

Wyatt growled and advanced on his friend, looking ready to trounce him. “She’s my wife. You’re asking me to risk her life.”

“It’s the last thing I would suggest…normally, but she’s a target whether you want to admit it or not.” Aaron stood and didn’t back down. “It’s our best chance to keep her safe and catch the killer before he actually makes good his threat.”

Wyatt clenched his fists, not even bothering to acknowledge her as he stormed out of the room. The dismissal smarted, but his violent reaction to putting her at risk told her one thing.

He cared.

At least a little.

It gave her an opening.

If she wanted a life with him, if she wanted his love, she’d have to fight for it.

Silence lengthened until Beth spoke. “That went well.”

Aaron snorted. “He’s angry because he knows we’re right. I don’t envy him his choices. I’d best go after him and keep him out of trouble.” With a nod, Aaron left at a more relaxed pace.

“Did you find Wyatt’s double?”

Completely exasperated, Brighid flopped down in the vacated chair. “Yes, but he refused to leave. He is living in the cottage…ah, the painting in the hall opposite my room.”

“It seems neither version of my son can stay away from you.”

Brighid blushed and traced the partially healed burn on her palm. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Why don’t you ring for tea while we wait for the men to return? We can finish discussing the plans for the fair.” Her voice gentled. “He’ll come to see reason. He cares for you.”

Brighid didn’t know what to think anymore. Everything had become so muddled since Wyatt forced himself into her life.

Despite her best intentions, she was falling in love with her husband.

What would happen when he discovered the whole truth about her past?