Claire Delacroix (24 page)

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Authors: Once Upon A Kiss

BOOK: Claire Delacroix
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It hadn’t taken him long to unpack.

Baird had felt more than inadequate when his roommate arrived with a cheery support team of six and enough stuff to bury their shared room knee-deep. They had embraced him, this troupe of strangers, offered him snacks and startled Baird with their noisy camaraderie.

He remembered now that he had gone early to his Intro. Psych. class, ostensibly to give his new roommate some privacy.

But there had been no relief at class. At least a hundred people were already chattering in the hall, all of whom looked as though they came from secure, happy, middle-class households.

Baird sat straight in his chair, neither too close to the front or the back, sure that he stuck out like a sore thumb.

He didn’t need anyone, he reminded himself, he didn’t to make friends here, he didn’t need to count on anybody because everybody ultimately let him down. No one needed him, so he wasn’t going to need any of them. Baird Beauforte was here for an education and that was all.

But all the old anthems seemed a little thin in that moment. Baird fidgeted in his sleep, remembering the awkwardness of his younger self too easily and hating that his dreaming mind chose to dwell on old defeats.

Then Julian slid into the seat beside him. Baird looked up and felt a jolt of recognition that now he recalled feeling at the time, although he had quickly dismissed it.

How could he have known Julian?

In those days, Julian had been less flamboyant, though his jeans had been meticulously pressed, his collar buttoned down, his shoes buffed. His sandy ponytail defied anyone to call him a square.

“Hey, I’m Julian Preston,” he said with a smile. “Can you believe these people? I feel like I fell into a Wonder bread commercial.”

And Baird had chuckled despite himself. They had become friends, right then, right there, defying at least one of Baird’s axioms about life.

Julian talked a lot, he cared too much about his clothes, but his heart was pure gold.

 

* * *

 

Aurelia was pacing her room and she was mad enough to spit sparks. The dream was a lie, a crude sham to convince of something patently untrue.

It was Bard who had stolen her dreams. And he was trying to manipulate her in the most appalling way! He would have her believe that he was none other than the High King of Inverness’ son Bridei! He would have her believe that Julian was none other than her murdered brother Thord!

And that Bard and Thord were friends!

It was reprehensible. It was disgusting. It was lower than low. Bard had killed Thord. What kind of a man hid from the results of his own foul deeds?

A man who could not be trusted, regardless of his handsome visage, regardless of his charm.

This was an obvious ploy to win her sympathies. Bard and Julian were trying to steal her power for themselves and twisting the truth beyond recognition in the process.

Well, Aurelia was not anyone’s pawn! To her mind, this was no less than a declaration of war. Her Dreaming was sacred ground and no one - no one - had the right to meddle there.

Even if Julian did remind Aurelia of her brother Thord.

It was a trick! Obviously, the priest had discerned her thinking - Bard seemed to read her thoughts, after all! - and used that against her. Disgusting! Aurelia paced and thought furiously, dismayed at the extent of their success thus far.

How could she defeat Bard? How could she thwart his foul plan when her own flesh was on his side? How could she save her Dreaming from his foul interference.

She could kill him.

Aurelia stopped and stared at the floor, her throat tight with the realization. Julian’s magic was powerful, indeed, but Aurelia knew that Bard’s presence was key. Without an upstart king, there was no need to undermine any support for Hekod.

If they could affect her thinking so severely in merely two days, how much longer would Aurelia be able to keep events straight in her mind? Fear clenched her gut and Aurelia knew she had absolutely no choice.

The deed must be done. Bard must die.

Though how she could kill a trained warrior larger and stronger than she, let alone one who could read her very thoughts, Aurelia had no idea.

There had to be a way.

Well, there was one time when a man was vulnerable beyond all, Aurelia realized, and her heart began to pound at the boldness of her thoughts.

She would kill Bard in his own bed.

And if her chastity was the price she had to pay to ensure Bard slept in her presence, Aurelia would willingly count out the fee. It was a pittance compared to the sanctity of her Dreaming and the potential of being forced to betray her own blood.

Before she could change her mind, Aurelia donned the blue robe and knotted the belt about her waist. Elizabeth had a small but wicked knife in her kitchen. She would fetch that first, then do what she had to do.

It was only fear of discovery that had her heart pounding, Aurelia knew without doubt. It was no small risk she undertook.

She certainly could not be anticipating the heat of Bard’s touch.

 

* * *

 

Baird stared at the canopy over his bed and puzzled over his strange dream. The juxtaposition of the two incidents obviously was supposed to mean something.

Could he and Julian have known each other before? A part of him was sure they had, another part of him insisted that it was all nonsense.

Was he just tossing together bits and ends from his day to fill in the gaps of his dream? The question about Micklegarth was a direct echo of Aurelia’s comments in town. Even though she hadn’t been in this dream, her presence had been almost tangible. Thord had talked about her or at least, talked about his sister who shared the same name.

The sister he thought Baird should marry. Baird swung out of bed and hauled on his resort robe, certain he wouldn’t sleep for a while. He paced, unable to imagine how easily he had taken to the idea of marriage, even in a dream.

What was it about Aurelia that got under his skin?

Was it just the power of desire at work?

Yet Baird knew that it was not something as ignoble as lust that fired through him at just the sight of Aurelia.

She was unlike any woman he had ever met.

Baird liked the way Aurelia’s eyes flashed with spirit, he liked how passionately she argued, he liked that she grabbed onto life with both hands and didn’t let go.

Baird admired that her thinking proceeded logically from whatever premise she took. She was clever and defiant, opinionated and passionate. He was intrigued that she could be both delicate and resolute, that she refused to back down from any challenge and that she spoke her mind in no uncertain terms.

Aurelia invaded his dreams and stole into his thoughts. And Baird wanted to know her in every way, he wanted to see her in every light, he wanted to hear her thoughts on every matter and watch her confront every wonder of the world. Baird wanted to solve all the puzzles about her that he had only glimpsed.

But most of all, he wanted to mend the gaping hole her father’s loss had left in her life. Not having a father had scarred Baird, but he knew that losing a father would have been far, far worse.

And Aurelia had endured exactly that.

Baird couldn’t explain why he felt so protective of a stranger. Unless it was because Aurelia had had the kind of father that Baird had always longed to have himself. He ached now with the dream’s unwelcome reminder of his own loneliness.

Baird had never had anyone he could rely on. He rubbed his temples just as a quiet rap sounded at the door.

Aurelia stood on the threshold of his room, a resort robe that matched his own tossed over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, she looked young and vulnerable.

And there was a heat in her gaze that echoed Baird’s own. His heart thumped and his mouth went dry with the certainty of why she had come.

She wanted him.

Just as he wanted her.

There was no need for words. Aurelia’s eyes darkened to indigo as she stepped forward and slipped her hands around the back of his neck. Baird didn’t fight the way she urged him closer, his heart hammering with anticipation.

A thousand denials crowded into his mind. He shouldn’t.

They shouldn’t.

But Aurelia did. The sweet seduction of her lips closed over his and swept his rationalizations away.

Again, Baird had that sense of rightness.

He couldn’t shut out intuition any more - it took the keys and locked logic securely in the trunk. For the first time that he could recall, Baird Beauforte didn’t want to think about anything.

He just wanted to feel.

Aurelia was so welcoming, so familiar yet tantalizingly unknown, and the spell she wove about Baird left no chance of escape. He didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

There was nowhere else in the world.

Baird lifted Aurelia against him, savoring the crush of her breasts against his chest. She was all curves and softness, completely different from him, yet they fit together as though they were each made for the other.

He felt complete in a way he never had before, as though some missing piece had quietly slid into place to complete a jigsaw. It seemed that all his life he had been seeking this elusive feeling. Now he had found it, and in the most unlikely of places.

Aurelia was what Baird had always been searching for. And now that he had found her, there was nothing else that mattered, nothing other than the magic they would make between them.

And that magic would be theirs to remember for all time.

Baird slanted his mouth over hers and their tongues danced together, his blood heating as Aurelia matched him touch for touch. Her cheeks were flushed with passion and when Baird trailed a line of kisses along her jaw, she moaned aloud. Her small fingers clenched in his hair and Baird loved how she gasped when he rolled his tongue in her ear.

Then Aurelia did the same to him and Baird thought he would explode. He scooped her up in his arms, kicked the door closed and carried her to the bed. The moonlight slanted through the windows, painting the room in shades of silver and toying with the luster of Aurelia’s hair.

She lay back against the rumpled duvet and smiled welcomingly.

Baird slid open the knotted belt of her robe and Aurelia’s gaze fixed on him. He stared into the sapphire majesty of her eyes, then lifted the robe away to reveal the perfection of her breasts.

She was so tiny, yet beautiful in every way. Baird slid tentative fingertips over her smooth curves, hip to breast to shoulder, his hand pausing against her jaw in wonder. The moonlight made her look ethereal and unreal. He was half afraid that she was too fragile to touch, that she was an illusion that would disappear if he reached out to her.

Then Aurelia’s eyes twinkled with mischief, she turned her head and gave his finger a nibble that was very real. They smiled at each other and Baird, encouraged, couldn’t resist that luscious breast any longer.

He bent and licked the nipple leisurely, coaxing it to attention as Aurelia gasped. Baird drew her closer, lifting her from the bed, cupping her breast in one hand, then eased the robe over her shoulders.

It tumbled to the bed with an odd thump, but Baird had only a fleeting chance to notice. Aurelia suddenly locked her arms around his neck and kissed him as though the world was ending.

Her embrace left Baird dizzy and uncaring about anything in any robe anywhere. He scooped her close and rolled across the bed, nuzzling her neck as he went.

When they came to a stop, Aurelia stretched one hand tentatively towards him, but Baird was determined to set that cascade of hair free. He worked the braid loose carefully, then spread the gleaming mass of her hair over her shoulders. It shone in the moonlight like silvered silk and seemed to have a life of its own.

Baird had never seen hair so long, let alone so thick and bouncy. It was nearly straight, heavy in his hand, but silky smooth. He fingered it with wonder. “Have you ever cut it?”

Aurelia shook her head. “It was forbidden.”

Baird frowned at the odd confession, then Aurelia’s fingers closed over his and the heat fired between them once more. They kissed with fingers entangled, a greedy sampling of each other that left them both gasping for breath.

Aurelia touched his nipple with an exploratory finger. It tightened and Baird caught his breath when she leaned closer to touch her lips to the same spot. Her fingers outspread, she slid her hand down his ribs, across his pelvis and closed her hand over him.

Baird nearly exploded on the spot.

He caught up Aurelia’s hand and rolled her to her back on the bed, leaning over her with purpose.

Aurelia blinked. “You do not like to be touched?”

“I love to be touched,” Baird assured her, brushing his lips across her brow, the pert curve of her nose and finally her lips. He lingered there, unable to stop himself, then lifted his head and stared into her eyes for a long moment. Aurelia looked as amazed as he felt at the passion burning between them.

Baird quirked his brow. “I like it so much that we’d be done very quickly if you hadn’t stopped.”

Aurelia giggled and squirmed beneath him. Baird rolled his hips and let her feel the size of him. She started to smile a very feminine smile of satisfaction, then he captured her breast once more and dragged his thumb slowly across the nipple.

Aurelia inhaled sharply and the nipple stood at attention. She melted as Baird bent and kissed the taut bead with slow deliberation.

Aurelia sighed and arched languorously beneath his caress. Baird suckled first one breast and the other, loving how she moved beneath him. In this as everything else, Aurelia was honest about her feelings - and she welcomed every nuance of the experience.

Her obvious pleasure brought Baird’s own desire to a fever pitch, and he was determined to see that the magic they made surpassed any other Aurelia had ever known.

He wondered if he would ever get enough of her, if she would want more of him. Baird kissed her ears, her jaw, her throat, the underside of her breasts and her navel, and watched a flush slide over her flesh.

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