Powerful Magic (36 page)

her.

          
Why had this happened and what could she do about it?
 
She didn't belong here, though she'd thought to stay until she... she what?
 
What exactly had she thought?
 
That this was infatuation, or lust?
 
That Kenric would be a casual affair, the kind her North Dallas friends giggled and gossiped about so easily?
 
But Megan had never been that kind of woman, never been able to pretend or lie, which was why she'd been breaking it off with Roger in the first place.
 

          
She loved Kenric
.
 
She loved a man from nine hundred years in the past.
 
God help her.
 
Rhiannon, with her faerie magic had been right.
 
Megan now knew Rhiannon's words had been true.
 
Kenric was her soul mate, the other half of her heart.
 
How on earth did she think she could live without him?

          
Something must have shown in her face.

          
"What is it?"
 
Low voiced, he cradled her chin in his other hand, his silver eyes searching her face.
 
"Are you all right?"

          
Numb, she nodded, though she wasn't all right.
 
Not by a long shot.
 
Pushing away her rioting emotions, she focused on the problem at hand - getting him off the drawbridge.

          
He pulled her close, letting her pillow her head on his broad chest.
 
Closing her eyes, she let herself pretend for a moment that everything was normal, that everything would be all right.

          
"Megan."
 
He muttered her name, one hand smoothing down the back of her hair.
 
It was a gesture of love, of need, even as she felt his body thicken against her.
 
"Do not forget that you are mine."

          
It came to her then, with this declaration, spoken so boldly without heed of the consequences.
 
She knew how to get him through the magical barrier.
 
He might not know it yet, or admit it, but she believed he loved her as deeply as she loved him.
 
And she'd always heard that love was the most powerful magic of all.
 
Though she had no knowledge of magic, no idea where even this thought had come from, she knew it to be true.
 
After all, it had brought her to this place, this man.

          
She raised her head to look at him.
 
"Hold me close."
 
She whispered.
 

          
Since he was already doing so, he merely smiled, the smile so full of masculine arrogance that it took her breath away.

          
"Walk with me, this way, to the end of the bridge."
 

          
He merely lifted a brow and did as she requested.

          
They moved like they were slow-dancing, stopping and embracing and gazing deep into each other’s eyes.
 
She felt a slow heat begin inside her, making her languid and feverish, desire for him strong and fierce.
 
She forgot about spells or castles or old wizards.
 
She forgot about everything but the ruggedly beautiful warrior who held her in his arms, the man that she loved.

          
It was only when they bumped into Lancelot that she realized they had made it across the drawbridge.
 

          
Kenric released her when he realized it.
 
"You did it."
 
He told her, the heat in his silver eyes becoming wariness.
 
"Yet you claim you have no magic."

          
Both statement and question.
 
She knew he required an answer.
 
"I did not do it alone," she told him, finding herself suddenly unable to look at him.
 
What if he didn't feel the same as she, what if lust alone drove him, or some other masculine emotion for which she had no name.
 

          
"Explain."

          
She decided to take a chance.
 
After all, he had told her that she belonged to him.
 
For now, that would have to be enough.
 

          
"Love did it, Kenric.
 
Love is more powerful than any magic."

          
He was silent for so long that she had to raise her head and look at him.
 
Instead of outright shock, or horror, or any of the expressions she might have expected, he merely looked thoughtful.
 

          
"I--"

          
Whatever he'd been about to say was cut off.
 
Shouting, Lord Brighton galloped towards the drawbridge.
 
Moving at a more sedate pace, Edmyg followed close behind.

          
 
"How did you do it?"
 
Lord Brighton asked excitedly.
  
From the speed of his pace, Megan saw that he expected to find the barrier dissipated.
 
She was afraid that he was about to be sadly mistaken.
 

          
Behind him, Edmyg struggled to keep up.
 
For an old man, Edmyg could move fast.

          
Lips drawn back from his prominent teeth in a triumphant grin that was nearly a grimace, Lord Brighton crashed into the barrier at full speed.
 
The impact was enough to toss him back on to his ample rear end.

          
Edmyg screeched to a halt before running into him.

          
Megan couldn't help it; she started laughing.
 
From the corner of her eye, she saw Kenric turn away to hid his own grin.

          
Plainly shocked, a red-faced Lord Brighton picked himself up.
 
Glaring at Kenric, he advanced as far as the barrier would allow, Edmyg trailing along after him.

          
"How did you do it?"
 
Lord Brighton demanded again, his hands clenched into fists, his face mottled with impotent rage.

          
"Love."
 
Kenric replied.
 
"She has told me that is the manner in which she broke through the spell."

          
"There is no such thing!"
 
Lord Brighton roared.
 
"Only warbling bards and simpering women believe in that nonsense!"

          
With those words Megan knew that Lord Brighton might not ever be able to leave his enchanted keep.
 

          
Edmyg moved forward, stretching out one hand towards them.
 
"I knew such a love, once."
 
He said, his voice quavering.
 
"But it has gone now, never to return except in my dreams."

          
"Only love is strong enough to conquer this kind of

magic."
 
Megan spoke quietly, when Kenric held his silence.
 
          

          
All three men looked at her, bewilderment and shock plain on Lord Brighton and Edmyg's, a stony stubbornness on Kenrics.

          
"We ride now."
 
Kenric pronounced, tight lipped.
 
Then, helping her up on to Lancelot's broad back, he swung up after her.

          
Heart sinking, she wondered if he was as stunned by what had happened as she.
 
As to the depths of her feelings, love was an emotion she'd never before believed she would feel for any man.
 
Until this man, now.

          
With Lord Brighton gaping after them, and Edmyg sadly shaking his gray head, Kenric urged Lancelot forward.
 
Gladly, the war horse stepped out, tossing his head and looking for all the world like a proud papa carrying his two children on his shining white back.
 

          
Before too long Lord Brighton's keep had faded in the distance.
 
Once again the fertile land began to show signs of human activity, the occasional crofters huts and plowed fields welcome sight.

          
They rode in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

 
         
Then, reining the horse to a stop, Kenric turned in the saddle, capturing Megan's mouth with a hard kiss.
 
His lips moved over hers, slow, drugging, possessive, until she grew breathless, until her head swam and she could no longer think straight.
 
When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, he grinned broadly.

          
"What was that for?"
 
She whispered, wishing she were bold enough to pull him back and make him kiss her some more.

          
"For the gift you have given me."
 
He told her cryptically, turning and urging Lancelot on once more.
 

          
Did he speak of love?
 
More than anything she wanted him to say the words, to tell her that he felt the same as she.
 
She thought of demanding, but fear held her back, fear and the knowledge that she had bound him to her with a lie.
 
Until she was truthful with him, she had no right to want more.
 
So she held her tongue, pushing away the guilt and the longing, so raw, so new.
 
         

#

          
For the first time in his life, Kenric knew uncertainty.
 
Always before, he'd been able to fixate on a goal and stay with it.
 
Up until he had made love to Megan's sweet body, he had actually believed he would be able to find her Roger, relinquish her to his care, claim his land, and continue on with his life.

          
Now he knew that to be a lie.
 
He wanted Megan more than he'd ever wanted anything or anyone.
 
He would have to find this Roger and see if the other man would relinquish his claim on her.
 
He, Kenric, would of course relinquish his reward - the land.

          
The land.
 
Briefly, he closed his eyes.
 
He hungered for Megan, yet still he yearned for the land.
 
He could not help it - it was what he was.
 

          
Though greed had never been one of his faults, he wanted both - Megan and the land. God help him.
 
One would be meaningless without the other.
 
He needed land to build his keep, to raise his family.
 
He needed Megan to keep him sane.
 
And, he concluded smiling to himself, be his helpmate and bear their children.

          
But love?
 
Despite her claims of its power, he was not certain he believed in such a thing.
 
Respect, admiration, even fondness he could well understand, having shared such a thing with his human father.
 
But love?
 
Nay - it had to be--

          
Only love could save the land of Faerie.
 

          
The thought came out of nowhere, blindsiding him. Gritting his teeth, he shook his head, willing the thought away.
 
Rhiannon again, with her faerie trickery and her misguided claims that Rune needed him.
 
No, best he concentrate on what was real, in the here and now.
 
Best he focus on how he could get Megan's intended to break his betrothal.

          
By now he calculated this Lord Roger should have given up the search.
 
Though, were Kenric of Blackstone the one who searched, he would never rest until she was found.
 
But in all their time together, not once had he seen a single sign that this Roger even sought her.
 
Perhaps Megan did not matter to him.