Immortal Desires (Well of Souls) (5 page)

Deanna didn't think so but Robert's voice soothed her and she yawned, suddenly very tired. Maybe that wasn't aspirin.

"How did…" She meant to ask how he found her but the words disappeared. It didn't matter. The floating was nice—warm like a cocoon.

***

Deanna woke with light streaming in the window. She lay on the bed fully clothed with a blanket pulled over her. Had she stumbled in drunk last night? She could count the times on one hand that she'd done that. Besides, she left early, if she remembered correctly. Michael was a nice guy but he wouldn't take no for an answer, as if wearing her down with compliments would make her say yes to a date.

No…there was something about her car. An accident? Her hand flew to her cheek and found a rough scab. She'd cut herself.

Robert was there. No, he was here, in her bedroom. She shook her head. Nothing made sense. Her muscles protested as she got out of bed but a hot shower fixed the worst of it.

As she sat back down on the bed, a feeling of being watched came over her. Invisible fingers trailed over the cut on her cheek with a feathery touch, moving across her lips and then down to her neck. Deanna closed her eyes and gave herself over to the feeling. It was like a dream only she was sure she was awake—wasn't she?

The sensuous hand kept going, causing her nipples to harden as it reached inside of her robe. Her breath quickened and she arched back, glimpsing a muscled arm attached to the hand. A tattoo encircled his bicep and as he moved a little closer, she could see a broad chest.

Shadows still clung to his face and she shifted forward, trying to find the rest of him. He laughed softly, the low voice practically purring as he moved back. "No yet, mo chridhe."

The vision—or whatever—faded, leaving Deanna panting with desire. Such a deliciously slow tease… Was he even real?

She came back to her senses with a start. What was going on? "I'm really messed up," she muttered. "I'm either inventing my own dream hunk or I'm lusting after a sexy ghost." Either option didn't look very promising. What would have happened if she'd tried to touch him?

"Get real. And quit talking to yourself out loud. People will think you're crazy. Find some nice normal guy to date—like Michael." She winced as a primal scream battered her mind. Something didn't like that idea. Whether it was her subconscious or ghost-man was hard to tell.

"Ok, Michael's out." She listened but there was only silence. Laughing like a loon, she got dressed and went to find something to eat.

Chapter Nine

Three days later, the sensation of being watched happened again. This time she stayed perfectly still, as if she didn't notice. Slowly sifting through the stack of papers in front of her, Deanna turned her eyes to the left until the muscles strained in protest. A tall, muscular man in a well-cut suit stood watching her, his dark hair framing a chiseled face that threatened to steal her breath away. He was gorgeous. Why hadn't she noticed him in the building before?

She wanted to turn and look into his eyes but caught herself just in time. Her hands stilled, forgetting to turn the papers in front of her. The air lacked even a vibration of sound, as if she'd been transported to another place and time where only the two of them existed.

With a blur of motion, he disappeared from the edge of her vision. Deanna snapped her head around to see where he might have gone but her eyes roamed empty space. Sighing, she went back to work, wondering who he might be. There was something about him…

Deanna laughed quietly to herself. The first man she'd given any notice to since Nick left and she couldn't get more than a glimpse of him. Maybe she was crazy and he didn't exist. Wouldn't that be a hoot. First a ghost, now this.

***

That night she dreamed of him. He stood in the shadows of her bedroom, watching her sleep. The darkness stole his face again but she knew it was the same man she'd seen earlier that afternoon. His broad chest was bare and he wore the same tattoo around his bicep as her ghost-man. He spoke her name with a soft brogue, the lilt sending shivers down her body. As he stepped closer, she could see the kilt he wore slung low on his hips, the blue and black weave of tartan shimmering in the moonlight.

Deanna blinked her eyes open with a start and turned on the lamp next to her bed. No one was there, of course, just as there wasn't any moonlight in the room. The dream had felt so real…

She got up and turned on the bathroom light, leaving the door cracked open the way she did in hotel rooms. The experience spooked her. It was nothing like a normal dream. She trembled as she crawled back under the covers, drawing them up to her chin.

After fidgeting for a while, Deanna finally fell back to sleep in her lightened room, wondering if she'd dream of him again. When the alarm went off the next morning, she was somewhat disappointed to find that she hadn't.

***

Ian wrestled with his conscience for several hours before breaking down and allowing himself a glimpse of Deanna. He promised it would only be for a moment, just long enough to gaze at her without having to hide.

His eyes closed, searching for her essence in the next apartment. When he located her, he found her asleep. Her smooth skin begged for his touch and he was doubly glad he hadn't gone to her room in person. No amount of restraint could have kept him from moving to her side. The hollow of her creamy throat invited his touch; his fingers curled with longing to obey as her scent wove its spell upon his senses.

She mumbled something and pursed her lips—lips that he would give anything to taste. He groaned as heat coursed through his body and whispered her name, imagining the two of them lying in the heather of Scotland under the light of the moon.

Deanna jerked and sat up, fumbling for the lamp as he quickly faded out of there, coming back to his body with a snap of startled reality. Had she heard him speak? It shouldn't have been possible…unless soul mates transcended the barriers? He shook his head at his folly, remorse for spying on her still warring with his need to be close to her.

Ian closed his eyes, remembering her golden hair spread across the pillow, her moist lips waiting to be kissed. He stroked his cock, thinking of all the ways he'd like to take her and tried to dim the raging fire in the only way left to him.

***

The next morning Ian stormed into Robert's office. "You canna recycle her. 'Tis wrong." His brogue thickened with emotion. "Send her back to my mortal self—back where she was meant to be." At least he'd have those sweet memories to carry with him through the long centuries.

Robert motioned for him to shut the door and eased into a comfortable chair. "You don't know the risk you're asking me to take. What if the Conrí tainted her soul?"

"They didna. I can tell." Ian took a deep breath, worried about Robert's reaction. "I connected with her last night. There's nothing of the Conrí there."

"You did what?" Robert got to his feet and strode over to the window, balling his hands into a knot behind his back.

"'Twas an accident, I assure you. I hadna thought it possible. She was dreaming and somehow I stepped into her thoughts."

Robert spun around to face him, his face an unreadable mask. "You shouldn't have tried to make any contact with her. You've put me in a difficult position."

"I ken that and I'm sorry." Ian walked over to his friend, coming to stand beside him. "But dinna you see? I'm already in love with her. Do you wish me to beg on behalf of my mortal self and my clan?"

Robert's face softened. "I know a thing or two about love. I also know it can end badly. What makes you think he'll accept her, showing up without a past or family?"

Ian snorted. "What is there to think on? We belong together. Of course I'll accept her."

Robert put a hand on his shoulder, compassion plain on his face. "My friend, you are not the person you once were. You understand much that he did not. It might not go as well as you think."

He was right, of course. Ian struggled with the concept, suddenly realizing he could be sending Deanna to a horrible fate. Might his former self reject her…or worse? His throat thickened as he recalled the turbulent times.

What of her? Would she risk everything for the chance at real love? "I already told you she's no tainted. What if you give her the chance to decide for herself?"

Robert gave him an exasperated look. "Once she's there we're merely bystanders to fate. We can't help either of you in that timeframe."

"I ken that." Ian hoped they were doing the right thing—hoped she would forgive him for the shock about to befall her and the many lonely years she might face as a result.

"Give me your brooch." Robert held out his hand, a slight smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

Mystified, Ian unclasped it from his lapel and handed the heirloom over to him. "Will I get it back?"

"I'm not sure," Robert replied absentmindedly. He held the Celtic knot up to the light, its silver framework a thing of beauty. A large sapphire sat in the middle, surrounded by ten smaller rubies. "Deanna will need it to get where she's going."

Robert chanted over it, melodious words that Ian didn't understand. He realized it must be in the ancient tongue of the Immortals. The brooch disappeared from Robert's hand.

"Where'd it go?"

"Back to Scotland," Robert said. His eyes sparkled with an inner light. "Promise me you'll stay away from her."

"Aye, you have my word." It might kill him to keep it but somehow he'd honor his promise.

Chapter Ten

Deanna studied the brochure for Mackay Castle Resort carefully. Their main recreations boasted of outdoor adventures—trout and salmon fishing along the River Naver, hiking along trails, climbing—that sort of thing. They also had an indoor pool and spa, yoga classes and massage amenities.

Their main claim to fame though, was the ghost sightings—supposedly from inhabitants dating back to the 1500's. That was the reason for inclusion in the fall issue of the magazine. Deanna hadn't ever been much for believing in ghosts before she came to work for Light Street. Now she wasn't so sure after her own recent visitations.

Robert knocked on the doorframe and swept into her office, gracefully sinking into the chair in front of the desk. "What do you think of the property?"

"It sounds awesome. I know I'd love to stay at a place like that."

"Now's your chance." His smile beguiled her for a second and Deanna lost her train of thought. "I have plane tickets for you if you'd like to investigate the property yourself for the article."

"Really?" Deanna managed to restrain herself from jumping over the desk and giving Robert a hug. Very unprofessional. "I'd love to. When? I was planning on going back to San Diego next week and packing my things—"

He waved her off. "You can do that when you get back. There's no hurry, is there? The company can pay another month's rent if it's due."

She gulped in some air, sternly reminding herself not to squeak out her answer. "I was concerned about that, but if you need me to go to Scotland right away, that's fine."

"Right now is the best time, really. The summer season hasn't started yet so you'll practically have the place all to yourself." Robert stood back up and dropped a packet on her desk. "You'll leave Denver at 7:00 am on the 29
^th
and arrive in Inverness at 1:00pm on the 30
^th
. It's a two-hour drive from there to the castle, which is located near Syre. We'll have someone waiting to escort you. Oh, and make sure you visit the cemetery on property while you're there. It has its own history to tell."

He gave her a little bow and walked out, leaving Deanna with her head spinning. She fingered the packet, then tore it open. Inside were plane tickets, confirmation of a week's stay at the castle, a company credit card with her name on it, and a stack of British pound notes. Deanna tilted her head toward the ceiling, waiting for confetti to rain down on her or something equally over the top. This company didn't do anything by half.

Stuffing it all back into the envelope, Deanna left the office and skipped to the elevator, tapping her foot when it didn't rise fast enough. She had to get to her apartment before she broke into a victory dance. Dashing through the door, she slammed it shut and let out a yell that hopefully nobody heard.

Two days and she'd be on her way to Scotland! Deanna pulled her meager belongings out of the drawers and tossed them onto the bed. Maybe she should go shopping for a few more outfits. Had Robert really asked her to visit a graveyard? She needed to pack her camera too. Luckily, she'd brought it with her.

Deanna collapsed in a chair, her mind whirling with things to take care of before she left. Too many things.
Slow down!
She took a deep breath and jumped back up again.

***

Robert touched the excitement in Deanna's mind, his heart tinged with sadness that he couldn't make the transition easier for her. She was a strong-willed girl, though. In time, she'd be the perfect candidate, provided the ordeal led her in the right direction and didn't break her spirit. So many possibilities—for both of them.

He smiled to himself. Ian had a few things to learn as well. The man thought he knew his younger self but mortals had a way of surprising you, something the five-hundred-year-old Ian had forgotten over time.