Midnight's Kiss (6 page)

He made two rounds of the entire dig site, making sure no one saw him. With the storm, it was easy, since everyone stayed in their tents or caravans.

With his patrol over, Arran slowly headed back to his tent. He couldn’t help but glance over at Ronnie’s. She was alone now, and for a second, Arran thought about going back to her to see if he could get the name of the old man.

Or a kiss.

But Ronnie would want to know why he needed the name. Arran couldn’t exactly tell her the truth, though she’d nearly pieced it all together.

It was necessary for him to stay at the dig, and if she delved into the old man’s story and discovered Arran was a Warrior, he doubted she’d allow him to remain at the site.

Arran kept walking until he was in his own tent. He straightened and shook his head vigorously to rid himself of the water.

“I think I should’ve stayed outside. I’d be drier.”

Arran jerked his gaze up to find Pete sitting on his cot and covered in droplets of water. “Apologies. I didna know you’d returned.”

“I’d thought to have dinner with Ronnie, but her mind is elsewhere.”

Arran removed his shirt and dug into his bag for a fresh pair of jeans. Once he’d changed and laid out his sodden clothes and boots to dry, he sank onto his bed and bent a knee to put his bare foot on the cot.

He let an arm rest across his knee as he studied Pete, who was busy flipping through a book by the light of the lantern on the table between them. His male vanity was glad to hear his near kiss with Ronnie had addled her as it had him.

“Ronnie is a determined woman,” Pete said into the silence. He looked up from his book, his eyes pinning Arran.

“I’ve noticed.”

“This is her life, and she doesn’t let anything interfere with it. If you have any ideas of seducing her—”

“That’s no’ why I’m here,” Arran interrupted him before Pete could continue. “I’m here for the dig, no’ to find a woman.”

Pete grunted and flipped a few more pages. “Just keep what I said in mind. Ronnie is capable of taking care of herself.”

“Yet you feel the need to protect her.”

“Yes. Ronnie is … special,” Pete said. He closed the book and set it beside him as he turned to sit on the side of the cot. Then he rested his forearms on his legs and clasped his hands together. “I like you, Arran, and I saw the way you looked at her before you knew who she was.”

“She’s a verra beautiful woman. I’m a man who appreciates such beauty.”

Pete smiled and looked out of the tent. “She has no idea of her attractiveness, which is part of her allure. Men mistake her noninterest as being coy.”

Arran wasn’t sure why Pete was telling him all this. To warn him off, yes, but there was something else there as well.

“Do you often help her on her digs?”

Pete chuckled and looked at him. “No. Ronnie has long since been on her own. She likes having me drop by, but it’s just as a friend not a professor. She’s the one teaching me now.”

“But you help her,” Arran urged.

“In a way. I help set up the parties to maintain the donations so she can continue her work. Archeology is an expensive business.”

Arran nodded. “Which is why Ronnie is friends with Saffron.”

“Ah, yes, Miss Fletcher who has become Mrs. MacKenna. Saffron’s company has been a supporter, beginning with donations by her father. Even when Saffron seemed to disappear, the money was still sent to Ronnie to continue her digs.”

“With Saffron’s donations, why do you need more?”

Pete threw back his head and let out a full-bodied laugh. He ran a hand down his face before he reached beneath his cot to a bag and pulled out a flask. He unscrewed the lid and tilted back the flask for a hearty drink.

“No thanks,” Arran said when Pete offered him a drink.

Pete took another drink, then screwed the cap back on. “Saffron’s donations are large, but it doesn’t cover everything. It does allow us not to have to ask for quite so much from others, however.”

“I see.” And Arran did see. Pete had moved on from the actual digging to keeping Ronnie digging.

“I think you’ll fit in nicely here.” Pete turned and lay back on the bed. He threw an arm over his eyes and grunted. “If only this damned place would get dark when it was supposed to.”

“Where will Ronnie go after this dig?”

Pete shrugged. “This is her third year in Britain, and it looks like she has no intentions of leaving. I keep trying to get her back to Egypt, but she’s determined to remain here. I have no idea what it is about this land that keeps her finding things.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing.” Pete lifted his arm and looked at Arran a moment. “There is more history in Egypt is all I’m saying.”

Arran didn’t respond as Pete’s arm once more covered his eyes.

“The National Trust of Britain is sure happy to have her, though.”

“Meaning?” Arran asked with a frown.

“Meaning that she gives all her finds to them.”

“All?”

“Oh, she’ll keep something small every now and again, like the necklace she wears.”

“I thought part of being an archeologist is giving the finds to the government.”

“It is.”

But there was something in Pete’s voice that made Arran wary. “I suspect the government demands the finds in exchange for digging on their land.”

“Yep. It’s the way it’s always been. Archeologists do all the work, and get a little of the praise. Long after the artifacts are placed in a museum, the ones who found them are forgotten.”

Arran relaxed at his words. He’d thought for a moment that Pete had been motivated by money, but now Arran understood the tone that had been in his voice.

“How does Ronnie feel about it?” Arran asked.

“She doesn’t seem to care. For her, it’s just part of who she is.”

Arran let the silence grow after Pete finished talking. There was much about Ronnie that Arran had learned, and he’d yet to find anything he didn’t like.

An image of her tall, lithe body standing in her tent with her shirts soaked and clinging to her skin flashed in Arran’s mind. His damned cock began to harden when he remembered holding her.

He tried to push it aside, but it was too late. His body heated, instantly ready and needy. If he felt such an overwhelming need for her now, what would it be like if he ever kissed her?

It can no’ happen.

But he wanted it to. Desperately.

All it took to wash away those thoughts was Fallon and Larena, and the other couples at MacLeod Castle who wanted to bind the gods and have a normal life.

As if they could live normally. They’d spent hundreds of years as immortals, as Warriors who had powers of their own. For Arran, he was able to control ice and snow.

It came second nature to him. Did he want to live where he couldn’t use that power? Did he want a life where he couldn’t see in the dark as a Warrior did, or hear as a Warrior did?

To have the speed and strength of his god taken away from him?

He didn’t, but this wasn’t about him. This was about his friends.

Arran told himself he didn’t have to have his god bound, but in the back of his mind he worried that once that spell was out there, anyone could bind his god.

Anyone.

Was that a chance he wanted to take?

What if evil returned? Because it would. Eventually. What would happen to the world if the Warriors weren’t there to stop the evil?

Arran didn’t want to find out.

CHAPTER

FIVE

Ronnie sighed as she sat up from her cot and yawned. She hadn’t been able to sleep last night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw golden ones staring back at her.

Even awake Arran haunted her mind. She couldn’t stop thinking of how at ease he’d been. Until she’d mentioned the old Celtic story.

The predator she sensed in him had woken at that moment. It was such a part of him that he probably hadn’t even realized he’d leaned toward her, his body seeming to bow up as if waiting for a fight.

And for just an instant, she could have sworn his eyes flashed … white.

It proved how exhausted she was that her mind played tricks on her.

“Eyes flashing white. Yeah. Like that actually happens,” Ronnie mumbled as she swung her legs over the side of the cot and rose.

The storm had stopped only a few hours before, but that wasn’t going to halt the dig. She splashed water on her face and dressed in another pair of jeans and a thicker button-down. She was brushing out her hair when she heard Arran’s voice.

That deep, smooth voice sent chills racing over her skin. He laughed, and she wondered who he was talking to. And then, his voice faded away. She hated that she was disappointed in not hearing more of him.

“Get a grip,” she said as she glared at her reflection in the small mirror. “He’s a guy. There’s no time for that.”

Not that there ever was time.

Ronnie pulled her hair back into a ponytail, then twisted the long strands around and around before wrapping the hair into a bun. She stuck three bobby pins in her hair to hold it and then reached for her jacket as she rose.

As soon as she walked out of her tent, Andy was waiting for her.

“Hey, Ronnie,” he said, and looked at his clipboard. “I’m happy to say that all the tarps held last night through the storm. Looks like we had very little damage. A little rain got in some sites, but not all.”

“How about the newest one?”

“Nope. All clean,” he answered with a smile.

She nodded and made her way to the tent that was set up with food. “Just what I wanted to hear. What other news?”

“I’ve sent our newest volunteer to help dig today. Since he’s rather strong, he’ll be doing some heavy lifting.”

Ronnie paused in pouring her coffee and looked at Andy. “You put him with me?”

“You said yesterday you wanted to concentrate on this new section, and that means getting deeper than the four inches we got yesterday.”

“He could destroy any finds.”

Andy shook his head. “I don’t think so. He seems capable, and I’ve got others watching to make sure he doesn’t.”

“Fine,” Ronnie said with a sigh. She grabbed a croissant and a few strawberries and headed out of the tent.

Andy was right on her heels. “I thought you liked Arran. If it’s an issue, I’ll move him somewhere else.”

“No, it’s fine.” It wasn’t, but if she had Andy move Arran, then it would alert Pete and Arran that she had an issue with him.

That she wanted to avoid.

When she reached the site, the tarp had been removed and Arran stood leaning on a shovel, laughing at something one of the other guys said.

He’d taken off his shirt, revealing an amazing amount of exposed muscle all the way to the very low waist of his dark jeans. Dirt and sweat already coated his chest.

He was raw masculinity, dominant and commanding. Compelling. Without even trying, he drew every eye to him—including her own.

Her breathing grew erratic, her blood heating until her skin was damp from the visceral, innate desire just being near him brought her.

Even his smile, which he directed at someone else, caused her stomach to flutter. She licked her lips and let her gaze slide slowly down his wide chest, seeing the power and strength in every corded muscle.

Her eyes paused when she reached the waist of his low-hung jeans, just giving her a glimpse of that sexy V of sinew that disappeared into his pants.

She knew the feel of his arousal, the hardness, the length. Her mouth went dry as she thought of it against her. It had haunted her dreams. But in those dreams, she had rocked against him, not stood there like an idiot, waiting for him to do something.

Ronnie swallowed and mentally shook herself. She had to stay away from Arran. He was temptation in its purest form.

“I thought he just got here. What did he do, fall in the dirt?” she asked, not trying to hide her irritation.

Andy chuckled and tucked his pencil behind his ear. “Actually, he’s been working for about two hours now.”

She turned her surprised gaze from Arran to Andy. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. He was awake when I got up, and then he helped me remove all the tarps. He wanted to get to work right away. The next thing I knew, everyone else was getting up.”

Ronnie looked back at Arran to find his gaze on her. He gave a slight nod of his head as if he knew she was talking about him, and then turned his attention to his new friends.

Damn, but she didn’t want to notice him.

A look around showed she wasn’t the only one. All the women were ogling him, which she couldn’t blame them for. A hunk of a man like Arran couldn’t—
wouldn’t
—be ignored.

Just when she thought she was going to have to tell him to put on his shirt and go somewhere else, he said something to the men and began digging again.

A second later, everyone else got back to work as well. Even the women gawking at him.

“I’ve always heard there were people who were natural leaders,” Andy leaned close and whispered. “I’d never seen it before today. Arran doesn’t even have to say anything. They just follow him.”

“They’re working, that’s what matters.” But Ronnie was just as amazed—and awed—as Andy.

She’d never seen someone command attention the way Arran did. It wasn’t just his good looks and muscles, it was his manners and demeanor.

It was as if everyone recognized him as a leader and gave him the position.

Ronnie walked around the section they were digging, inspecting things as she did. She could feel the artifacts below the dirt. Their song was only one she could hear. It led her to them each and every time. This time, the song was stronger, more urgent. Ronnie had never felt such urgency from an artifact before, and it made her wonder what could be hidden beneath all the tons of dirt and rock.

She was so deep in thought, listening to the song from the artifact that she didn’t realize she had stopped behind Arran until he turned to her.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Actually, no,” she said, and turned her mind from the sweet song. “I hear you’ve been working for a few hours.”

He shrugged and leaned a hand on the shovel. “I was awake and eager to get started.”