Highland Shift (Highland Destiny: 1) Read online

  Back in the Rover, Elena looked at Faolan and asked, “What was that all about?”

  Faolan didn’t answer her; he seemed lost in thought. Elena kept the rest of her questions to herself, and they drove home in a companionable silence. The house was dark and the yard empty when they arrived, and Faolan swore lightly under his breath.

  “Och, lass, I am sorry, I was supposed to bring home something for your dinner tonight; Red and Lilly will be out for the evening. Let me take you back to town.”

  “Nay, lad,” Elena said seriously in her best imitation of a Scottish brogue. “I’ll be makin’ us omelets and such for dinner then.” Her attempt was so poor that Faolan just looked at her for a second before he roared with laughter, his eyes sparkling. Elena started laughing too, and they just barely contained themselves, avoiding breaking into that near hysteria that had consumed them previously.

  As Elena thought of that night, she thought about what had followed their laughter. She turned away, simultaneously embarrassed by her behavior and saddened at her loss. Faolan seemed to know what she was thinking. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He kissed the top of her head and then stepped away, saying, “I’ll get the fires going.”

  Elena wasn’t offended when he stepped away so quickly. She’d felt his reaction to her as he’d held her close. After dinner, they started on the books together, and he’d shown her how to distinguish between the different languages. Once she’d looked at a few examples, she was accurate with her sorting. The evening passed companionably, if quietly; they were both preoccupied. He’d been distracted ever since their visit to Brigid. Elena was thinking about his reaction to her, knowing that no matter what he said to her, he wasn’t indifferent. She worried about the complicated situation.

  Elena yawned and stretched. It was time for bed, but she hesitated, knowing that as soon as she left the room, Faolan would go into the night. He stood with her.

  “Elena, let me hold you,” he asked in a pleading voice. His face was bleak, as if there was no hope left in the world.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close, savoring his spicy male scent, yearning to feel his skin against hers.

  “You know I canna be with you the way you want, but ‘tis not in my power to be away from you. You have captured my heart. You are the keeper of my soul. Whatever is mine is yours, but for the one thing for which you have asked. I canna live with myself and I canna live without you.” He reached for her plait of hair and loosened it, letting cascades of black curls spill over his hands and her shoulders.

  Elena looked up into his eyes and saw a tormented man. “Come lay with me, Faolan. I won’t ask for more. Come lay beside me and hold me. Let me fall asleep in your arms.” He swept her up into his arms and carried her to her room. Elena laughed and told him she needed a few personal moments, and suggested he pour drinks and stir the fire.

  She went into the bathroom and prepared for bed as usual. She wore her soft flannel drawstring pajama bottoms and a loose sleep t-shirt. She was determined she would not try to tempt him in any way tonight. He truly was a man torn between desire and duty. She would not torment him further.

  Once she was washed and pajama’d, she came back out with her brush. She always brushed her hair each night before bed or else she would never get it untangled in the morning. She sat on the bed and began brushing while Faolan stared into the fire. He came to sit beside her and took the brush from her hand. Lifting her heavy hair in his hand, he brushed back from her face, and then he swept it up from underneath. She let him brush far longer than she would have herself, just to enjoy the intimacy. Heavenly.

  When he finished, he kissed her softly on the top of her head. She got under the covers and slid over to the opposite side of the big bed, giving him all the space he needed. Elena longed to hold him, kiss him, and tell him everything was going to be all right. Instead, she curled onto her side, facing away from him, and waited to follow his lead. Faolan sighed deeply and lay down beside her, on top of the covers. He buried his face in her hair, his hand rested lightly on her hip, and he whispered, “Sleep well, my love.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Elena woke the next morning, Faolan was still asleep, still holding her, only now he was holding her in a much more possessive and intimate position. The covers were kicked off, and there was nothing between them except their pajamas. They were spooned together; his chest was hard against her back, his erection pressed between the cheeks of her bottom, knees tucked tightly against the backs of her legs. With his arm draped over her waist and his big hand inside her shirt cupping her breast, Elena never wanted to move again.

  Of course, her body immediately betrayed her. Her breathing quickened, and her nipples budded. Her hips relaxed, pressing his erection even harder against her backside. Faolan began to move, too. His hand massaged her breast. His fingers found her nipple, and he rolled and pinched it. Faolan pressed his lips to her neck, and she knew for certain he was no longer sleeping.

  Elena wanted to be good and help him keep his promise; she knew how much his honor meant to him. She might believe his sense of chivalry was misguided, but she didn’t want him to do something he would regret. Even if it was something her body craved as much as breathing. She wanted him to choose to be with her and not just out of convenience.

  Elena rolled onto her back, and hoping talk would distract him, whispered, “Good morning.”

  His hand found her other breast under her shirt. Faolan leaned up on one elbow, “You are so beautiful when you sleep, I love waking this way, with the scent of you in my nose. The feel of you pressing agin’ me is more than any man can take.” He covered her mouth with his. Hungry and demanding. She answered with a hunger of her own, reaching up weaving her fingers into his hair and pulling his head even closer.

  They kissed for what felt like forever. She sucked greedily at his tongue, and he pulled it back then slid into her mouth ounce more. He traced her lips with his tongue, and then bit her lower lip. Holy smokes, this was one seriously sensual man. She needed to stop this before it went too far.

  “Faolan?”

  “Mmmm,” he murmured as he lifted her shirt to expose her breasts. He began flicking her nipple with his tongue.

  “Faolan?” she tried again. He sucked her nipple into his mouth and squeezed her breast, his other hand wrapped into her hair. Oh God! Her legs fell back of their own accord, opening wider, inviting him in. She was on fire with her need for him. Her body demanded she surrender, give in to the physical connection they shared. She craved him with an all-consuming desire. But she knew she must try one more time.

  “Faolan, please look at me,” Elena asked with her very last bit of self-restraint.

  Faolan shivered, pulled his hand and mouth from her breasts, and leaned on his arm to look at her. “Elena, love. What did I do? Och, Elena, I am so sorry. You are my temptress. I have told you before, you enchant me.”

  “Waking next to you is a dream come true, Faolan. You don’t need to apologize. However, I don’t want this to be about lust in the morning. If you want to make love with me, I need it to be because you’ve decided that’s what you want to do. No regrets.”

  He brushed her hair back and stroked her face. “Twas almost the most beautiful of mornings.” He bent to kiss her, slow and sweet, once, twice, then a third time with more heat. Then he pulled her shirt down over her breasts, smiled, and said, “Let’s go get breakfast.”

  ****

  Elena curled up on one end of the couch, and Faolan sat at the other. There were two stacks of books on the floor near her, and a small pile on the couch between them. Elena briefly scanned each one, looking for references to anything on her keyword list. Faolan had looked at her list, mostly without comment, although he corrected her spelling, explaining, “magic” was a trick, whereas, “magick” altered reality. Elena put that thought away to contemplate later and continued her search. If a book looked promising, it went on the couch between t
hem; otherwise, she put it in the stack to return to the shelves. They had been at it all day, and her eyes were getting tired.

  The room glowed brightly with every lamp lighted and a roaring fire in the hearth. Through the window, the scene was surreal. The wind whipped, snow swirled, and it felt as if the house was inside a cocoon. Nothing existed beyond the close confines of their walls. Red and Lilly had decided to wait out the weather at the flat in Beauly.

  Shadow was in her lap, and a visiting Rascal stalked the perimeter of the room before climbing onto the bookshelves in search of danger. It made her think of what Brigid had told Faolan about knowing the nature, know the name. It was certainly how she had chosen names for her cats. She wondered idly at the meaning of Faolan’s name.

  She snuck another peek at him. In profile, he was magnificent. His eyes were hidden from her as he read, his nose straight, jaw strong, and his hair was pulled back in its usual fashion. He wore a brown long sleeved V-neck sweater that emphasized his broad shoulders and sculpted chest. With a small sigh, Elena shifted the cat on her lap so she could stretch her legs out on the couch and went back to work.

  Several of the books had some information about the history of Druids or stories of legend and the supernatural, but so far, none of the English language books had any actual spells, curses, or magick. Neither of them really expected they would find the exact spell they were looking for in these particular books, but Elena hoped that having the background would help.

  Faolan put his hand on her leg and was absently rubbing, sending bolts of electricity straight up her thighs. She tried to keep her breathing normal. Her hormones had been in overdrive since waking that morning. She thought of the way he had kissed her and how easy it would have been to let nature take her course. Stopping him had been the better part of valor, definitely in his best interest, not mine.

  Elena placed the book she was reviewing on the stack to return and grabbed another, displacing Shadow from her lap in the process. “Finally, my turn,” Faolan said, as he put one hand on each of her outstretched legs, his thumbs pressed firmly on her inner thighs as he slid his hands slowly up.

  She thought he intended to slide his hands to her waist, to lean over and give her a kiss. Instead, when his hands reached the junction between her legs, his thumbs rubbed over her inseam, pressing against her nub.

  “Faolan,” she cried as her hips bucked in an instantaneous, shuddering orgasm. Faolan quickly pressed his face to her crotch, rubbing his mouth against the seam of her jeans, increasing the pressure against her most sensitive spot, wringing every last spasm from her. Elena moaned, her breath coming in short gasps. Faolan laid his head in her lap and put his hands under her bottom, holding her close against his face.

  Elena covered her face with her arms, trying to figure out how to disappear. Tears welled up and spilled over, running into her hair as she leaned back against the couch. She needed to get away.

  Faolan raised his head to look at her, but she kept her face hidden under her arms. “Elena,” he whispered. He lifted himself off her, and she jumped up and ran from the room. He caught her before she had taken three steps. “Elena, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

  “Oh God, Faolan, I’m so sorry.” She kept her tear-streaked face down, letting her hair hide her face, not meeting his eyes. Wrenching herself free from his grip, she ran to her room, closed the door, fell on her bed, and cried.

  Elena felt sick to her stomach over what just happened. She’d been wound up tight ever since she wakened with his erection pressed against her backside. She knew it was dangerous to tempt fate again. It had felt so good to be close, to feel his hand on her leg. She’d just wanted the comfort of his touch. God help her, she’d not been strong enough to keep the distance between them that she knew he needed. That they both needed.

  Faolan needed her to help him find the spell that would free him and his family from the curse of the wolf. He was struggling to remain true to his purpose, and lives depended on him lifting the curse. It was his destiny to be with his true heart, and it was her destiny to love him, and let him go.

  With a deep shuddering breath, she pulled herself together and went to wash her face and brush her hair. Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, she took a good look at the red-rimmed and tear-swollen eyes of her reflection. Elena sighed. She needed to get back to the research, not lay around feeling sorry for herself. With one final talking to about proper decorum, she went back to work.

  When Elena entered the library, Faolan was staring out into the darkness of the late afternoon. He shifted to look at her in the reflection before he turned around. “Elena?”

  “I think we’re nearly finished with all the books in that stack,” she said brightly. “The ones on the couch and in this stack are the last of the English language books. I’ll try to do some research on the Internet while you look at the Gaelic ones.” She was busy picking up books and placing them on the shelves, refusing to meet his gaze. “What time are you going to pick up Brigid tomorrow?”

  Faolan looked at her for a long minute before slowly answering, “I will be leaving at nine if the roads are clear.”

  “I’ll put some food on plates in the refrigerator in case she stays for lunch. Do you know why she’s coming?”

  “She said she needed to talk with Red, Lilly, and me, but she wouldna tell me why, other than to say ‘twas time. I expect she will also have your rugs ready,” he grinned mischievously.

  “Rugs? I didn’t even have a chance to look at them, I didn’t pick any out!”

  “Aye, lass, that’s the way it is with Brigid. She will bring them, and you will put them where she tells you.”

  “Oh really? And will I like them, too?” Elena asked, light sarcasm hidden in a smile.

  “Undoubtedly,” he laughed.

  She laughed, too. Somehow, it wasn’t hard to imagine such outrageous behavior from Brigid; she was of an age that she could get away with just about anything.

  They smiled at each other, and he tried again, “Elena?”

  She shook her head and asked if he was ready to keep working on the books. He sighed and started on his pile, while she finished putting the rest of the books away that they had already reviewed.

  When Elena finally sat back down, she sat in a chair opposite Faolan, rather than next to him, and began on the final small stack of books to review. Near the bottom of her stack, she found one scholarly-looking book that explained Druidism in great detail. It was fascinating.

  Druids had been around since at least 3500, B.C. although there were tales they went back even further. The Druids had served many roles in their time, scholars and judges, healers and bards. They were pioneers in astronomy, cosmology, physics, and theology. Some believed they had the powers of time travel through the ancient standing stones, like Stonehenge.

  Rumors regarding the source of Druid knowledge surrounded an ancient race called the Tuatha Dé Danann, and many believed the Druids served as gatekeepers between the Fae realm and humans. Flipping back to the glossary, Elena learned that the Tuatha Dé Danann were the Fae, also known as fairies. Fairies? Would any of this ever make sense? She needed to come back to that idea later.

  Few scholars believe that written examples of any original Druid practices still existed. It was the author’s opinion, that if there were detailed records, it was likely they would exist in private, personal collections, and be recorded by hand, since they would predate the printing press by hundreds of years. Modern sects of Druids might exist, but again it was unclear what, if any, relation these modern-day versions had to their ancient ancestors.

  Elena tried not to let her disappointment show, and she slid the book into the pile to put away. She needed to think about this before she shared it with Faolan. What if he could never be released from this curse? Would it change how she felt about him? No, I love him the way he is. Would he change how he felt about her? Would he be willing to someday stop looking for a cure and grow old with her? She didn’t kno
w, but she’d be willing to wait.

  Before they could think about a possible future, they needed to make every effort to find a way to break the curse. Assuming the author was correct, they wouldn’t be finding a cure in a mainstream published book. They needed to look for a less traditional source of spells and magick. She might be able to locate alternate sources on the Internet. What else could she try?

  Elena looked around the room, and wondered exactly where all the books had come from? She’d found them in the north wing of the steading, in boxes stacked in the piles of junk. The house had belonged to Worthington. What did he know about spells and curses? Were these his books? Or had they belonged to Faolan’s father?

  Mental smack to the forehead. This is where I should have started, not with a generic search, but with one based on the known evidence. The key wasn’t Worthington or even Faolan, but Faolan’s father. He was the one with the spells. He knew the secrets. He was the caretaker of something sacred, something that an older Worthington wanted so badly he would kill for it. He had revealed a secret to his murderer, causing Faolan to become a shape shifter, a wolf. Yet, he held something back, and a Worthington continued to search for it to this day. Worthington was willing to kill for it. Whatever the secret, it had something to do with this farm and the MacGailtry line. It was valuable enough for the search to carry on for at least two generations.

  Elena would have to speculate a little here, so she could formulate a theory. Faolan’s father was a Druid or sorcerer of some type. He was responsible for caring for something, but she didn’t know exactly what. He must have had artifacts, a place to perform his ceremonies, and possibly hand written books or records.

  Elena had seen evidence that such books and records existed. She believed she knew where some of those ceremonies and training sessions must have occurred. The secret chamber in the north wing of the steading!