Shadow Dance (17 page)

J
ORDAN SAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BED
,
READING YET ANOTHER
chilling account of a terrible battle between the Buchanans and the MacKennas. Each clan had called up its allies and had gone to war in hopes of annihilating the other. She was so caught up in the story she didn’t notice Noah standing in the doorway watching.

Noah told himself to turn around and go back into his room, but he couldn’t make himself move. She drew him to her, and she didn’t realize it. He loved being near her, talking to her, listening to her crazy stories and theories, and he loved watching her smile. The most wondrous thing about her was her ability to make him laugh. No other woman made him feel the way she did.

She was damned pretty, he decided. Even when—like now—she was wearing glasses. He didn’t know why they were such a turn-on to him, but they were. If she had them on when he ran into her on Nathan’s Bay, he’d look over the top of her head so he wouldn’t be distracted. Once Dr. Morganstern had noticed what he was doing and had commented on it. Now Noah wondered if the doctor had known Noah was attracted to Jordan before he did.

When had she stopped being his partner’s kid sister and become the amazingly sexy woman he wanted to take to bed?

He knew what he was going to do before he took one step into her room. He didn’t give a damn about the repercussions. He barely made a sound as he walked to her bed, placed his gun and holster on the side table, and sat next to her.

Jordan glanced over and smiled. He looked relaxed in his worn-out Levi’s and pale gray T-shirt. She watched him get settled. He put both pillows behind his neck and gave them a couple of whacks to get them just so. Yawning loudly, he stacked his hands on his chest and closed his eyes.

“Comfy?” she asked.

He didn’t open his eyes. “Read me a bedtime story.”

“This story is pretty brutal.”

“I like brutal.”

“No surprise there,” she teased. “The date’s iffy, but this war supposedly took place sometime between 1300 and 1340. The MacKenna laird claimed the Buchanans had stolen another treasure from them. This treasure was a piece of land near the MacKenna holding that the laird believed should have been given to him.”

“Who gave the land to the Buchanans?”

Jordan shook her head. “It doesn’t say. The MacKenna laird stewed about this atrocity for months and months. Then, one afternoon in the early fall, a young Buchanan was captured on their land.

“The MacKenna laird decided to hold the boy for ransom. If the Buchanans gave up the slice of land, he’d return the boy. That was the plan, anyway, until some of the MacKenna warriors, in their enthusiasm, accidentally killed the boy. That’s how it was written,” she said. “They meant to torture him, but had wanted to keep him alive.”

“Did the Buchanans agree to give the land back before the boy was killed?”

“They didn’t have time to agree or disagree. When they heard one of their young was murdered, they gathered their forces and went to war. They were always fighting with the MacKennas, but this was different. The MacKenna laird knew he was in for it, and he called up all of his allies. It doesn’t give the number of clans, but three are named.”

“What about the Buchanans?”

She scanned down the page in front of her. “They called up one ally. I’m not sure if it was because they only had one ally or because they only needed the one. The MacHughs. The name alone sent terror through the MacKenna clan. The MacHughs were thought to be inhuman and indestructible. They were much more ruthless than the Buchanans, or so it says.

“The battle took place on a field near Hunter Point. The Buchanans and the MacHughs were hopelessly outnumbered, and the MacKennas foolishly believed they would make quick work of slaughtering the entire two clans.”

Jordan’s back ached. She fell back and rested on Noah’s shoulder. She held the paper up and continued on.

“The MacKennas and their allies were sadly mistaken about the odds being in their favor. The MacHugh clan didn’t believe in showing any mercy. After all, the MacKennas had butchered a child. Nor did the Buchanans show mercy,” she added. “When it was finished, there were body parts strewn over the field; the ground itself was covered in blood. To this day, the area is called Blood Field.”

“What happened to the MacKennas then?” he asked.

“What was left of the clan fled,” she said. “They returned to the field the next day to collect their dead and give them a proper warrior’s burial, but there weren’t any bodies to collect. They were all gone. And therefore there could be no sacred warrior burial ceremony.”

“Did they ever find them?”

“No,” she replied. She leaned up on an elbow and looked into his eyes. “And back then, if a warrior wasn’t given a proper send-off, he couldn’t go to the hereafter. He would be condemned to roam in the ‘other world’ for eternity, forever alone and forgotten.”

“How many were killed? Does it say?”

“No,” she answered. “But if any of this story is true, can you imagine what it would have been like to walk around the field…a field soaked with blood, picking up body parts? An arm here, a leg there…”

“A head…”

She grimaced. “I’m glad I didn’t live back then.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “There could be a couple of benefits. No reading scumbags their Miranda rights or having to watch a judge let them go on a technicality. Back then, if you knew someone was guilty, you got rid of them. Simple as that. You know what else? If the story has a thread of truth in it, I don’t care how many warriors were killed on that battlefield. There isn’t a number high enough to justify killing one child.”

His eyes were still closed, so it was okay for her to stare at him. He wouldn’t notice. He was so sexy, so rugged. She forced herself to look away. This could go nowhere, she told herself. But she wanted him. He’d break her heart and leave her devastated, she warned. No thank you.

She was no groupie. No, she absolutely was not. Truth was, she’d gone way past that stage. She was falling in love.

Suddenly in a panic, she quickly swung her legs over the side of the bed, gathered up the papers, and took them to the table. She stacked them next to her satchel and then walked back to the bed. “Noah?” she whispered as she poked him in the shoulder. “Don’t you fall asleep on me.” He didn’t respond. She poked him again. “I want to go to bed.”

She was about to give him a harder poke when he reached up and grabbed her wrist. Before she could respond, he pulled her down on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled her onto her back. His knee nudged her legs apart, and he stretched out between her thighs, bracing himself on his elbows as he looked down at her flushed face.

Her heart raced. She went completely still and waited to see what he’d do. Don’t let go, she frantically thought. “Don’t let go.”

“I won’t, Sugar.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

He gently removed her glasses, and his hard chest rubbed against her breasts as he leaned over to put them on the table next to his gun. When he began to nuzzle the side of her neck, shivers cascaded down her arms and legs. His breath was sweet and warm against her skin, and when he tugged on her earlobe, she felt a jolt of longing all the way down to her toes.

“This is a bad idea,” she whispered as she tilted her head so he could have better access. She reached up, caressed the back of his neck, and tugged on his hair. She wanted him to kiss her on her mouth.

He lifted up. “Want me to stop?”

She pretended to give the matter her utmost attention. “No.” Jordan reached up and kissed his chin. “I was just saying it’s a bad idea.”

She was sorry she’d said anything because now she worried he would come to his senses and stop touching her. She desperately wanted and needed him to hold her and make love to her.

“Jordan?” His voice was a rough whisper.

Oh, God, he was going to stop. She swallowed. “Yes?”

“Open your mouth for me.”

He didn’t move. He waited for her to make up her mind.

Any guilt or worry about the consequences of her actions flew from her thoughts. There was only room for Noah. She stared into his beautiful blue eyes and slowly pulled him toward her.

It was all the encouragement he needed. His mouth settled on hers in a kiss that was warm and soft and undemanding. And wonderful. But soon it wasn’t enough for him. One taste of her sweet mouth made him crave more. His tongue swept inside and rubbed against hers. He took his time leisurely exploring her mouth until even that wasn’t enough. He tightened his hold on her and the kiss deepened.

He was voracious, and he believed he was the aggressor until he felt her pulling on his T-shirt. Did she want him to stop? With a groan he lifted his head. “Tell me what you want.” His voice was raspy.

“Everything,” she whispered. “Off. Everything off.”

The warm glint in his eyes made her shiver. His thumb swept across her lower lip. “You taste good, you know that?”

“Like sugar?”

“Even better,” he growled.

He tugged her shirt up over her breasts and pulled his own T-shirt at the same time, but elbows and hands got in the way. He was suddenly eager and hot, as though it were his first time. He knew how to please a woman—God knows he’d perfected his technique over the years—but this was different. Jordan was different. The need to be with her made him ache. He’d never felt this way before.

His shirt came off first, but hers quickly followed. She wasn’t shy with him or hesitant. She stroked his back, his shoulders, his arms. He could feel her heart pounding, and when he touched her breast, she arched against him and moaned softly.

Her legs moved restlessly against his. He kissed the side of her neck and slowly moved lower, taking his time, teasing, tormenting. His tongue gently tickled her collarbone, and when at last he reached her breast, he felt her tighten around him.

He began to slowly drive her out of her mind. She had no idea her breasts were so sensitive, but with each stroke of his tongue, she lost a bit more control.

He was losing his control as well. He took a deep, shuddering breath and passionately kissed her. His hands actually trembled. He kissed her again—hard, quick—and then pulled away.

“Be right back…” A quick kiss, and he rolled over. “I want to protect you.”

Her heart was racing now. As soon as he got up, she wrapped the pillow in her arms and hugged it to her chest. One kiss, she thought, and she had melted. She sighed. Noah certainly knew how to kiss. No other man had ever made her feel the way he did.

The bed sagged when he returned to her. He tugged the pillow away, and she didn’t resist. She rolled onto her back, her gaze locked on his. His hands moved to her waist and slowly pushed her shorts down. He threw them off the bed. He’d already removed his pants, and as he moved between her thighs and stretched on top of her, the feel of him made her forget to breathe.

Her hands caressed his back, her touch feather light, until his mouth settled on hers again. Her touch quickly became more frantic. She clutched his shoulders, demanding that he stop tormenting her.

“Noah.” She didn’t know if she’d shouted his name or sighed it. His hand had moved between her thighs, and he was driving her out of her mind. He knew just where to touch, exactly how much pressure to exert. She writhed in his arms, pleading with him to come to her.

She was desperate to feel every inch of him, to wrap herself in his warmth. His breathing became more labored, and that excited her even more. She would die if he continued to torment her.

Noah delayed as long as he could, to give her as much pleasure as she was giving him. Her response made it impossible to wait any longer. He knew she was ready. Her nails scored his shoulders, and she arched against him. His mouth covered hers and he moved between her thighs and slowly sank into her liquid heat. She was so tight, so hot, he groaned from the sheer bliss. He stayed completely still inside her, panting as he whispered her name.

When he came to her, she cried out. The ecstasy was overwhelming.

“Ah, Jordan.” He breathed her name. “Damn.”

She wasn’t content to let him catch his breath. Every nerve in her body was clambering for release. She lifted her knees to take him deeper and began to move.

Oh, how she wanted to please him, to make him as crazed as she was. She bit his shoulder, kissed him on the mouth, and moved to his neck. She was panting now. He pulled back and thrust deep again, and tears came to her eyes, she was staggered by the intensity of the feelings gathering inside her. His movements became more powerful, more all-consuming, more demanding. It was exquisite.

Even in the throes of raw passion Noah had always been able to control his reactions, to set his pace. But he couldn’t control what was happening to him now. He thrust into her again and again, powerless to slow down.

She was every bit as passionate as he. Tension built within her, ready to burst with the need for release.

Wave after wave of sensation poured over her. She’d never experienced anything like it. She let it sweep her away, like a roller coaster plunging to the ground and jolting every nerve, the waves of pleasure coursing through her.