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Authors: Kathy Morgan

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BOOK: Dark Enchantment
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Irritation narrowed her eyes, making it increasingly obvious that she had imagined the whole dark angel thing. Crossing her own arms in mimicry, she raised her brows. “Take a picture, why don’t you.”

He frowned, blinked once. “Sorry?”

Just one word. And a shiver of recognition slid through her. Impossible, she knew. But even the hot Irish whiskey voice sounded the same, full-flavored and intoxicating, with a twist of danger.

She swallowed. “You
should
be.” Her head motioned toward the car. “Mind telling me just what the devil that was all about?”

His mouth set in a thin line. “You tell me. Then we’ll both know, won’t we.”

His arrogance fanned the flickering flames of her temper. “Well, I
will
tell you one thing, buddy boy. You’ve got some colossal nerve putting your hands on me like that.” Bad-tempered, tired and reckless, Arianna leaned in closer. “You know, a stupid stunt like that could get a man hurt.”

And a woman couldn’t help but be intrigued by the flash of fire in those strange feline eyes, a burst of heat turning the golden flecks into molten metal.

Pushing off the car, he took a step toward her. “‘Twould be yourself then, would it? The one inflicting this
pain
you’re just after mentioning?” His voice pitched low, seductive. A beat of arousal pulsed into the deepest heart of her.

He moved to tower over her, an intentional invasion of her personal space. Intimidation, it was meant to make her feel small and insignificant.
Mastered.

Silly man.
A cynical grin lifted the corners of her mouth; obstinacy stiffened her spine. And yet, with all her bravado, she knew wisdom dictated she keep one important fact in mind. That, notwithstanding his insane resemblance to someone who, in reality,
didn’t even exist
, the big man with the bad attitude was a complete and total stranger.

Problem. She just wasn’t feeling very wise. So, instead of retreating, she stepped boldly into the man, leaving no more than a hairsbreadth of space between them. Big mistake. Because just one whiff of his wild and woodsy scent elicited more dream-clouded memories. A visceral reaction she attributed to simple chemistry.
Pheromones.

Because there was nothing familiar about his masculine scent. Nothing at all.

Oh, Arianna, you are such a liar.

Ordering herself to focus, she tipped her head back. Like a cat playing with her meal, she licked her lips as her fingers began a leisurely stroll up the man’s chest. The ploy, which brought confusion to his eyes, backfired, however, when an unexpected rush of take-me-now sizzled through her veins. Not that he remained unaffected by her touch, she noted, as something hot and smoky incinerated the perplexity in his eyes.

Trapped in that fiery gaze, Arianna was becoming entangled in her own web of deception. Her breath caught at the sensation of an ephemeral caress, the back of fingers skimming one cheek. It was a lover’s touch. Slow and intimate.
And familiar.

Yes, God help her, she recognized that touch.

Suddenly the cool night air began to warm and thicken, her body growing slow and fluid. The hungry look in his eyes effectively erased any thought of self-preservation.

She moistened her lips, then shuddered as his heated gaze lowered to follow the movement. Her eyes drifted shut and she breathed him in. Yes, blindfolded, she would have known him, would have recognized him anywhere by his scent alone. Mountain air and rainwater clean, his was the fragrance of a night creature. Wild and free, he was a man who wouldn’t be ensnared by the rules of polite society.

Arianna let her head fall back. Her hands trailed upward, mapping incredibly broad shoulders. His too-long hair tickled her wrists as she overlapped them behind his neck. What was happening here, she didn’t know, nor, frankly, did she care. She had longed for this encounter, for this impossible moment, for far too long. Forever it seemed. And now she had only to pull his mouth down to hers, to reacquaint herself with his minty flavor, with the heady taste of the one and only man she had ever loved.

But as she tugged, she felt resistance. Her eyes drifted open—and met the amused male triumph in his gaze. Confused for a moment, then mortification seeped in, painting her cheeks with a flush of embarrassment.

“Jerk,” she whispered, trying to control the breathless quality of her voice.

She failed miserably. Either that or he had read the humiliation flaming her face. Either way, his head tipped to the side, his eyes softened.

Oh, man, now he was feeling
sorry
for her. Could this thing get any worse?

“Hey,” he murmured.

Arianna pushed at his chest. “No, just let me go.” She went to step backward and stumbled. His arms slid around her waist to steady her. Trapped against his chest, she dropped her head forward onto her hands. She would die, literally
die
, if he were ever to learn how much that small embrace had touched her.

Still locked against his body, she could feel herself melting into his embrace. She was losing it here, needed to put some space between them, get her head straight. Desperate to break free of the mesmeric hold he seemed to have on her, she tried to pull away, but again, he resisted the movement.

Being restrained set off an alarm that blew the cobwebs from her brain.

Her reaction was automatic, not thought out at all, as she gathered fistfuls of leather from either side of his jacket. And she watched his stormy gaze transform into one of stunned disbelief, as she brought up her knee….

Chapter Four

T
here was a harsh, guttural spit of something muttered in Gaelic. Crystalline eyes flashed hard and dark with the threat of murder as the Irishman evaded her assault with the grace of a dancer. In a single, fluid move, he spun her in a perfect pirouette and cuffed both of her hands behind her in one of his. His right arm banded across her chest and he hauled her against him.
Hard.
An apt description, she noted, for every blatantly male inch of the body now imprinted indelibly against her spine.

Holy crap.
“Let go of me!” No slacker in the dance of defense herself, Arianna proceeded to move like the mythical Whirling Dervish, delivering a back-kick, a sweep, a chop and an elbow jab in quick succession. All close-range karate blows that her opponent managed to sidestep as lithely as if their movements had been choreographed.

But did she use good judgement now and throw in the towel? Oh, no, not with her endorphins spiking and the rush of battle firing her blood. Later…if she managed to live that long…she would undoubtedly plead temporary insanity. Because what other than a serious mental lapse would account for her continued provocation of a martial artist so decidedly superior?

Even now, caged in his steel-banded arms, she could feel claustrophobia closing in on her. Desperate to escape his suffocating grip, she feinted an overhead blow to his neck, while simultaneously stomping down on his foot. The satisfying crunch of the wooden heel glancing off his instep told her she hit the mark.

“Bitseach damanta!

“Yeah, same to you, bud,” Arianna muttered. She didn’t need a dictionary to translate the sentiment.

He shifted his body. Suddenly her hands were held captive in front of her, arms crossed so that she was hugging herself. His own strong arms securing hers like a strait jacket, he moved into a partial squat, knees pushing into the back of hers and causing them to collapse. He straightened then, lifting her off the ground so that her feet dangled in front of her. He leaned slightly backward, enough to avoid her peddling feet, and began to inch toward her car. His butt made contact with the back door and he braced against it, one muscular leg levered over both of hers like a human crow bar.

Trapped like a rat,
she thought, and the infuriating man wasn’t even winded. Boy was he was pissed, the fury radiating off him in waves. Probably battling the urge to strangle the life out of her.

Okay, so they had reached an impasse. And now, with her all but lying on top of him, her backside molded indecently to the front of his jeans, he would be forced to make a decision. Whether to finish this, or let her go.

Squirming in his lap, Arianna was trying to regain her balance when she heard an animal-like rumble through the walls of his chest.
Did he just growl?
Before the implications of that scenario could send her imagination winging down a path of werewolves and other shape-shifting creatures, she felt his arms lock down even tighter. The vice-like pressure against her diaphragm now prevented it from expanding at all. She was in trouble.

Officially freaked out now, she was afraid to move—hell, she was terrified even to blink—lest the action be misconstrued as a further attack.

With her constricted lungs growing increasingly oxygen-starved, she could only suck in raw, tiny gasps of air. Panic clawed its way up her throat.

Asphyxiation was making her drowsy, disoriented. Suddenly, death was a very real and frightening possibility. With the gray dots swimming in front of her eyes beginning to connect, to create a dark and murky pool, Arianna expelled her last reserve of oxygen in a frantic bid for mercy. “Please, I-I can’t breathe,” she rasped. “You’re suffocating me.”

The rigidity of his hold slackened instantly. Although only marginally, it was sufficient for her to fill her lungs with a greedy gulp of the cool, damp air. Head reeling from the sudden influx of oxygen, she collapsed back against his chest.

“Thank you,” she breathed, sucking in huge gasps of air. But each longed-for breath stirred a torment of dream-misted memories brought on by the familiar scent of him, of rainwater and damp leather, of sandalwood soap and…something else.

Something raw and wild. Elemental.

Arianna swallowed hard and twisted uncomfortably in his lap.

She froze as the man grunted and dipped his head, his nose nudging her hair aside. At the warmth of his breath on her neck, goose bumps sprang up all over her body.

“You think you might stop wriggling your arse in my lap that kind o’way?” he murmured in her ear, his deep voice strained and testy. “Unless, o’ course, you fancy the two of us becoming even better acquainted than we are at present.”

Aware that he was referencing his growing arousal, Arianna winced in embarrassment. “Please, won’t you just let me go now?” she asked in a small, quiet voice.

She heard him inhale, felt the slow rise and fall of his chest. Silence. A thousand one. A thousand two…

“Would you be finished then?”

“F-finished?”

“Done. With trying to unman me, cripple me like.” This said with a hint of dry irony. And, was it possible? A reluctant measure of respect?

“Yes, of course. I mean...absolutely.”

He hesitated again, no doubt suspicious of her prompt and unconditional surrender. “Sure of that, are you now?” His tone was level, conversational. “Because you to have understand,
cailín,
that should you try such a thing again, you’ll be leaving me no choice but to deal with you like a man.”

“Eeeyeah. Got that.”

Their truce agreed, the imposing male settled her onto her feet and uncoiled himself from around her, like a giant anaconda that had just decided it wasn’t hungry.

If Arianna thought he was through with her, she would have been wrong. No sooner than he had set her on her feet, he reversed their positions, spinning her around and pressing her back against the door of the car. And then his mouth was on hers. She gasped and his tongue invaded, stroking, suckling, teeth nibbling. Not a tentative first kiss, but one of the practiced lover in her dreams. A lover who knew how she wanted to be kissed, to be held. She strained against him, swallowing his groan as he devoured her
. Yes, devoured.
Because no other word could adequately describe the feral essence of that kiss.

And then, just like that, it was over. He tore his mouth from hers. Pupils so dilated they almost obscured his irises he stared down at her with a look she couldn’t comprehend. She waited. Surely he would say something now, make some mention of recognizing her. Some reference to the dreams.

Disappointment tasted bitter in her mouth when, with a slight shake of his head, he pulled away.

“Wait here. I’ll send help,” he muttered hoarsely, then turned abruptly and stalked toward the SUV parked behind them.

Left panting and weak-kneed from their erotic encounter, Arianna watched incredulously as he walked away. Surely, he didn’t intend to leave her here, stranded on a dark country road at this hour of the night. “Um, hey, wait a minute.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he glared at her. Glared. With a narrow-eyed scrutiny that made her feel like a specimen squirming in a petri dish. “Would you please
stop
that?” she said, still breathless. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s impolite to stare?” For a fleeting moment, a black shadow slid over his face and darkened his features. “And while we’re on the subject of manners, I believe you owe me an apology.”

“For what? Stealin’ a kiss?”

Arianna’s cheeks burst into flames. “I wasn’t talking about the stupid kiss, okay? I was referring to the way you manhandled me, dragged me out of my car.”


Me
manhandle
you
?” His low chuckle sent a ripple of awareness zinging along her nerve endings. “I did nothing but defend myself, sure.” He paused then, eyes growing thoughtful. “Though, now that I think about it, I believe I am willing to admit to being sorry.”

“You are?”

“I am, yes. For I can say, in all sincerity, that I’ve never been more sorry for anything in me life than I am for pulling
you
from that car tonight.”

Great. A freaking wise guy.

“I’d not have stopped a’tall had your car not been the same make and model as one belonging to a mate of mine. Thinking he may be broken down and in need of a lift, I knocked on the window. But then you went to wailing like a bleedin’ banshee. Like someone after being murdered or worse.”

“Oh.” Suddenly, Arianna felt like a slug. “I-I didn’t realize—”

“But then aren’t we men the great eejits?” he interrupted with a scornful snort. “Ourselves fancying the female weaker and in need of our protection. But haven’t you proved you’re quite
man
enough to fend for yourself? That being the case, I’ll be off then, will I?”

As he turned to leave, Arianna’s jaw unhinged. “Un-freaking-believable,” she said under her breath. “Well, if that...that
creep
thinks for a single minute that I’m chasing after him, he’s got another— What the heck is that?”

Arianna’s attention had been diverted to the hillside, where a strange evanescent glow was fluttering through the glistening shrubs and wind-torn trees. As the light danced in and out of a circle of standing stones, she murmured, “A-will-o’-the-wisp,” in awe of being a personal witness to the legendary faerie lights.

Spellbound, she watched the iridescent anomaly begin to stretch and rise, until it seemed to take on human form. As icy fingers of fear trailed along the back of her neck, a swirling gust of wind dispersed the eerie band of fog.

Arianna took off after the man in black. “Hey! Hold up a minute.”

“Yes?” Grasping the door handle of his vehicle, he spoke the word with a sigh.

“I need a ride.”

She watched as his talented mouth twisted into a cynical smirk, but no response was forthcoming.

“Look, I’m sorry for attacking you, okay?”

His dark head slanted. “So,
you’re
apologizing now?”

Ignore the sarcasm, Arianna.
“I overreacted, and you have every right to be upset—”


Go raibh mile maith agat
.”

“What?”

“Thanks a million,” he interpreted in a dry tone.

“Oh, yeah, well…Listen, I just got in from the airport, my cell phone doesn’t work here, and I have no other way to get help.” Her voice was pitching higher and higher, in direct relation to the building hysteria. With a calming breath, she willed it down several octaves. “Look, you can’t just go and leave me here like this.”

Oops.
Wrong thing to say. She saw it right away in his unyielding expression, in the resolute set of his jaw. And in the tight smile hovering over those oh-so-kissable lips, without ever quite alighting. “Oh? Can I not?”

“Well...of course you
can
,” she smoothly acquiesced. “But what gentleman would leave a lady stranded, cold and alone, on the side of the road in the middle of the night?”

“True, true,” he murmured, his agreement surprising her as he took a step backward and cast a searching glance, first over one shoulder, then the other.

Arianna followed the motion in both directions. “What...what are you looking for?”

Green eyes settled on her blandly. “Why, the
lady
you’re just after mentioning, o’ course.”

Hmmph. Funny man.

Without another word, he yanked his door open and vaulted behind the steering wheel. The door slammed with an ominous note of finality and the engine roared to life.

As if that weren’t disheartening enough, the rain chose that moment to begin to fall again in a cold, steady drizzle.

The driver-side window lowered with a mechanical hum. “Go on now.
Ta se ag cuir baisteach
.” At Arianna’s blank stare, the man translated impatiently. “It’s raining! Go get in the car, for feck’s sake! I’ll ring the gardai on my mobile, let them know where to find you.”

The discussion apparently over as far as he was concerned, he shifted into gear. But before the SUV’s big wheels could make a single revolution, Arianna’s hand shot through the open window. Abandoning pride, she clutched at the sleeve of his jacket, her hand so numb from the cold that she could barely feel the supple leather beneath her fingers. “Just get me to the next town,” she pleaded. “I’ll get a cab from there.” He frowned, looked down at the steering wheel. “
Please.
You know how the cops are. I could end up waiting here for hours.”

Arianna detested the note of desperation in her voice. More, that she had been reduced to begging. But the fact remained that never in her life had she ever been so utterly exhausted, felt so unspeakably alone. “Or so hellishly cold,” she muttered under her breath, her teeth clacking like castanets, lips quivering with the violent shivers wracking her body.

When she felt him dragging his arm out from beneath her icy fingertips, her heart dropped to her knees. Clearly, he was determined to leave her here.

And she was just too damned tired and miserable to fight him on it anymore.

Her head dropped in resignation. About to turn away, she felt a finger slip beneath her chattering chin. With the gentle pressure of his thumb, the Irishman tipped her face up and silently searched her eyes. His touch, coupled with that provocative gaze, sent rivers of warmth rippling through her frozen body.

A sign you’re lapsing into the final stages of hypothermia
, she told herself grimly.

Now, what miracle of God triggered the man’s sudden change of heart would have been anybody’s guess. Maybe it was her violent shivering, or the utter hopelessness he had to have seen in her eyes. Whatever it was, Arianna knew she had won the battle of wills the moment his hand dropped into his lap. His head fell back defeatedly against the headrest.

He turned to look at her. “Best mind who you raise that knee of yours against in future,” he threatened, with a menacing glare. “Now, go on, go on, get in.”

Resurrected by the unexpected reprieve, Arianna bounded around the back of the SUV. Head dipping animatedly from side to side, she mimicked him under her breath. Still, she was careful to cut short the tirade before clambering into the passenger seat. She would bet a million bucks to a penny that he was just looking for an excuse to change his mind.

BOOK: Dark Enchantment
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