Cup of Fate

CUP OF FATE “You’re dreaming again. All’s well. Breath slow and deep.” The voice was smooth as melted chocolate and reassuring. The farmhouse faded and a new dream took its place. The gentle scrape of an unshaven face on her shoulder finished the transition. But it was the warm male lips kissing the nape of her neck that made it seem all too real. A pair of strong arms snaked around her midriff and pulled her back against a taut, muscular chest. It seemed so long since anyone had held her close and offered comfort. Bryn gave herself up to this new dream and snuggled, loving the warmth of his body. That didn’t make sense. How could a dream lover give off heat? She decided not to examine it closer, just simply enjoy it while it lasted. The wet lap of a tongue licked her earlobe. She squirmed in his arms. “Does that tickle?” he asked, whispering against the curve of her jaw. “Yes…ahh,” she murmured as his lips kissed her throat and his hands began to wander. She gasped when his fingers tugged at her nipples, rolling them between thumb and forefinger. She closed her eyes, savoring all the sensations he was causing throughout her body. She felt his hand slide down her hip to her thigh. He grasped the hem of her silky nightgown and slowly pulled it up until it bunched above her waist. He placed hot kisses on her hipbone and all along her thigh, before moving her so she lay on her back…

CUP OF FATE BY CASSANDRA CURTIS

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

CUP OF FATE AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2006 by Cassandra Curtis ISBN 1-59279-558-7 Cover Art © 2006 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

My thanks to Kathy Petersen for inspiring the idea for this story with her fortune telling teacup, Eden Bradley and Vivienne King for their keen eyes and invaluable input, my editors at Amber Quill Press for holding my hand through the process, and finally, to Romance Divas, the best writing resource on the net. Viva la Divas!

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CUP OF FATE

The musty smell coming from the used paperbacks made her nose twitch. Even her eyes itched. She pulled a tissue from her pocket just as she sneezed. Maybe yard sale shopping with her new friend hadn’t been the best of choices. Sam showed no indication she was ready to leave the dingy stall, so Bryn walked outside to get fresh air. The late spring rain yesterday had left puddles in the potholes along the gravel drive. She stood over one, catching her reflection. Her dark auburn hair appeared almost black and her usual peaches-and-cream complexion seemed drab gray. She knew she’d changed this past year, but surely not this much? She decided to blame it on the muddy water. She looked up, past the dilapidated barn to the fields and rolling hills of tall bluegrass in need of a good mow. “Sinks into your blood, it does.” “Excuse me?” Startled, she turned to see an old woman sitting in a 1

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rocking chair near the barn’s double doors. She could have sworn that neither the chair nor the woman had been there a minute ago. “The land. I can tell you ain’t from these parts. Where ya from, child?” The old woman’s eyes gleamed. “Originally from Chicago by way of Indy. I moved to Kentucky six months ago.” Child? Bryn almost laughed. She felt tired—old beyond her twenty-nine years—thanks to her ex-boyfriend. Jason had drained more than her savings. The woman stood, reaching out a blue-veined, bony hand. “Here ’bouts I’m known as Old Maddie.” “Bryn Tuttle.” She clasped the outstretched hand, blinking at the firm grip. “We saw a yard sale sign about a mile back, but when we pulled up to your house, we didn’t see anything or anyone around. Thought we might be at the wrong place. Then my friend saw an arrow pointing to the barn and figured this had to be it.” She certainly hoped they weren’t mistaken and trespassing. “Yep. ’Course not everything’s in the barn. Got a few items in the house.” “Oh? Let me tell Sam. She might want to look, too.” “Y’all go ahead an’ take your time. I’ll be inside if ya need me.” The woman turned to walk back to the farmhouse, her gait uneven. “Hey! Mind giving me a hand?” Sam was standing next to her, holding an armload of yellow-edged books, her clothes covered in dust and cobwebs. “Sorry, didn’t see you, Sam. I was talking to…” Bryn caught two of the larger books before they fell to the ground. She turned to point to Old Maddie, but the woman was nowhere in sight. “She’s gone.” “Who? The owner?” “Yeah. She was standing right there a minute ago.” Bryn glanced at Sam, then back at the farmhouse. The elderly woman couldn’t have gotten that far, that fast. “You didn’t see her when you were coming out 2

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of the barn?” “I haven’t seen anyone but you. She’s probably inside the house.” “Well, she did say she had more items inside.” “Great, I need to pay for these anyway. Let’s go see what else she’s got.” Sam walked ahead of her and set the books on the house’s back porch near the screen door. She knocked, calling out, “Ma’am, okay if we come in for a look?” Bryn placed the other two books on the stack and leaned over her friend’s shoulder. “Maddie, we’d like to look at those other items you mentioned.” “Y’all come on in! Be with ya in a minute.” The voice was faint, as if coming from far away. Both women stepped across the threshold and were soon marveling at the décor. The walls were a cheerful lemon-yellow pattern, interspersed with tiny recessed openings. A miniature bottle or jar sat on each shelf. Bryn unstopped a Delft blue jar and peered at the contents. The sharp tang of fresh lemons hit her nose. She handed the jar to Sam, who took a sniff before replacing the stopper, returning it to the shelf. As they moved farther inside the large kitchen, the unique furnishings caught their eyes. Sam whispered, “This stove is early twentieth century, if I had to make a guess. I bet she’s got tons of antiques.” “Don’t get too fond of anything until you know what’s for sale and at what price.” Bryn traced her fingers along the polished surface of an oak table, then did a double take. “Sam, you see what I see?” She pointed to the underside. Instead of four legs, a tree trunk rose from an opening in the floorboards to support the surface’s weight. The two seats were formed from thick branches that had been smoothed on one side. “I’d be afraid of critters having easy access to my kitchen,” Sam 3

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joked. The women walked into the dining room. Immediately, a cold rush of air moved past Bryn. These old farmhouses were naturally drafty. And probably cost a small fortune to keep warm in the winter. She thought of Maddie’s slight, bent frame and knotted arthritic fingers. She’d learned that Kentucky could get almost as cold as Illinois in winter. Bryn moved farther into the room. A large woodcarving hung against one of the walls. It was a man’s smiling face, encircled by row after row of carved oak leaves. “Look at the china cabinet. It’s breathtaking!” Sam practically squealed with excitement. “I’m going to go look for Maddie, okay Sam? Sam?” “It’s a walnut Louis XV style cupboard. See the carved bonnet top and cabriolet legs? I’d say this is early 1880s.” Her friend cast her a glance. “Look at this black marble, absolutely gorgeous!” “I’m not into antiques like you. Go ahead and enjoy, I’m going to find Maddie.” Sam whispered something that sounded like “stunning,” and Bryn smiled to herself. Today she’d learned how passionate Sam was about yard sales. Her friend was already lost in her new find. As Bryn walked past the carved wall plaque, she felt a chill creep down her spine, almost as if someone were hidden, yet watching. “Maddie? Which items are you selling? Nothing is marked, so we…” Bryn said as she turned a corner and walked into the old woman. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” “My fault. Sorry I took so long, honey. Now, have any of my treasures grabbed your fancy?” “I haven’t really seen anything yet, but I was wondering about the plaque on the wall in your dining room.” “Ah, figured that rascal would catch your eye!” Maddie said as she 4

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walked down the hallway and back into the dining room. “I was merely curious. To be honest, it creeps me out.” Bryn shivered as Maddie reached up to stroke one of the wooden leaves. “Oh…well, he’s a wild one, sure ’nough, but he grows on ya.” “You talk as if it’s a person.” The old woman winked at her. “Feels like it sometimes. Well, if he ain’t your cup o’ tea, maybe I have something else that is.” She turned to look at Sam, who had opened the cabinet’s beveled glass doors and was now inspecting the china and glassware. “Pardon me, but am I correct in thinking that’s Paragon china?” Sam pointed to a set of gold, printed art deco plates. “My, you have a good eye for antiques! Perhaps you know what this is?” Maddie took out a cup and saucer that had been on a bottom shelf below the gold plates. Both items were bone china, white with strange rose-colored symbols decorating the inside of the cup. The outside of the cup was plain, as was the saucer. Bryn had never seen anything like it before. She raised her eyebrows at Sam, who shrugged her ignorance. Maddie carried it into the kitchen and placed it gingerly onto the table. Her friend lifted the cup and inspected both pieces. “What’s this?” Sam turned the cup upside down. The stamped word was faded, but she could just make it out—DESTINEE. “That there is a fortune telling cup, for doing tasseomancy, tea leaf reading. We would read the position of the tea leaves to foretell someone’s future. ’Course, this particular cup is special. Not many like it left in this world. We used plain old white cups without any symbols on them. The leaves themselves formed the pictures.” Bryn gave her a skeptical look, but she could tell Sam was eating up this nonsense. “Modern girls like the two of you probably don’t believe in that kind of thing—do you?” 5

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Sam laughed. “It’s sort of fun anyway. So, what do all the symbols mean?” “Lots of things. Each pattern represents a different future.” Maddie looked deeply into Sam’s light green eyes. “See this picture here?” She pointed to a tiny rose baby carriage. “Does that mean you’re going to get pregnant?” Bryn smiled, looking over at Sam. Although the two hadn’t known each other long, she already suspected Sam’s desire for children. “Yes, and the number of wee ones depends on the amount of leaves that end up on the symbol.” Old Maddie told them. She stood slowly and walked over to the stove. The shrill whistle of a boiling kettle surprised Bryn and Sam. They looked at each other, Sam nodding her head toward the stove. Bryn leaned forward, voice just above a whisper. “She never left my sight, Sam. Did you see her go turn on a burner?” Sam shook her head. “She must have put it on while we were still outside.” “No, think. You were admiring the stove when we came in. Was the burner on?” she asked, her voice low. “It had to be, Bryn. I mean, what are you suggesting?” “I don’t know what I’m suggesting. Never mind.” “I’d love to know more about your teacup, Maddie. Is it for sale?” Sam asked, an edge of excitement in her voice. “Why, yes, it is. But only to the right person.” “Am I the right person, Ms. Maddie?” Sam smiled at the older woman. Her friend could be a real charmer when she tried. Bryn tried to shake the weird churning in her gut. She felt like a dog pacing and howling before the earthquake hit. The animal senses it coming, but is unable to stop it from happening. “Actually, I think both of you could be right for the cup.” Maddie reached between the friends and sprinkled loose tea into the fortune 6

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cup, pouring a small amount of hot water from the kettle over the tea. “Thought it would be more interesting to show y’all than tell ya how it works. Now—who would like to get their fortune told?” “I’ll go first. What do I do?” Sam asked, leaning forward. “Take three sips of the tea.” Sam focused on the dark amber liquid. Her lips parted as she followed Maddie’s directions. The old woman’s smile grew with each sip her friend took. “Hold the cup in both hands, slightly tilted and swirl the tea around in a circle clockwise three times. Notice there is only a little water in the cup, just enough for each leaf to move freely.” Old Maddie’s voice was smooth and hypnotic, without hint of a southern lilt. “Now, tip the cup upside down onto the saucer. Wait a few seconds, and then right-side up again.” “But there’s still some liquid in the bottom,” Sam said, hesitating. “Yes, that represents the flow of time, the flow of infinite choice. It will be fine in the saucer, honey.” “Oh. Well, here goes nothing.” Sam upended the cup onto the saucer and waited the briefest of moments before turning the cup again, with the handle pointed at Maddie. Droplets of amber brown liquid ran down the side. About a quarter of an inch of tea filled the saucer along with a few tea leaves. “Hmm…what have we here?” Maddie fingered a wet brown leaf tip to see the symbol underneath. “What is it Maddie? What do you see?” Sam leaned across the table. “An eye—caution is needed. This symbol is near the rim, so it is in the near future.” Maddie peered once again into the cup and pointed to another symbol covered with leaves. “A fence—broken to be mended, minor setbacks.” She nudged more clumps of wet leaves away. “A gate—opportunities, future 7

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success. A kite—wishes coming true.” Maddie stopped for a minute, lifting her head to look at both women. “Finally, one last symbol to uncover. Are you ready?” “Yes. I want to know,” Sam told her. “Very well, the last symbol is a wedding bell…a marriage.” “I like the sound of that!” Sam looked over at Bryn. “You next!” “No, I think we’ve had enough fun for one day. I’m ready to head back.” “Thank you, Maddie. I really appreciate the reading. But I guess I’d better pay you for the books outside, and the cup—if you were serious about selling it to me.” Maddie took a pinch of salt and threw it into the cup, then carried both to the sink and rinsed them out. “The cup is yours. The price is that ya have to do a leaf reading for your friend tonight, before midnight. Or bring the cup back to me tomorrow. Will you do that?” Maddie towel-dried the cup and saucer, holding them out to Sam. “Sure. It’ll be fun! Right, Bryn?” Bryn was less enthusiastic. She really was tired and had been looking forward to falling into her soft bed and going to sleep. “Okay, but how will Sam be able to interpret the symbols correctly?” Maddie pulled a small scroll, yellowed with age, from a jar on one of the recessed shelves in her kitchen. “Here. All the symbols, their meanings, directions and overviews for all outcomes.” She handed the scroll to Sam and, without warning, leaned forward and kissed each woman on the cheek. “Be thou a smooth way before ya, be thou a guidin’ star above, be thou a keen eye behind ya and safe passage tonight and forever with my love.” *

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“Well, that was more than a little weird.” Bryn frowned at the scenery outside the passenger window. Both sun and moon appeared in the twilight sky as Sam merged onto the interstate from the two-lane 8

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country road. “I thought it was sweet.” “I’ll probably have nightmares tonight. I have no intention of drinking from that cup—ever.” “Oh come on, it’s just some harmless fun,” Sam chided her. “I’m telling you, it’s strange. I felt it not long after we walked into that place and didn’t stop till we left.” Bryn glanced over at the box between them, filled with musty books and the paper-towel wrapped cup and saucer. “You know, if I hadn’t called and asked if you wanted to go yard sale shopping with me, you’d have stayed inside your apartment all day, ironing or doing something equally boring. This way we got some sun, had some fun, and came home with a few real finds.” “You came home with a few real finds—maybe.” “What was wrong with that woodcarving on her wall? I thought it was sort of cool.” “If I tell you, you’ll think I’m nuts.” “No, I won’t. So, what’s the deal?” “It was staring at me, following me with its eyes. Almost predatory.” Bryn shuddered. At first it seemed to draw her, to fascinate her. “You’re not going to tell anybody at work are you? I mean about the yard sale trip to the Twilight Zone?” “Well…okay, if you insist. I wanted to try my tea leaf cup on Gary in human resources,” Sam said, only half-joking. “Poor Gary. You think he’s the guy in the reading? Mr. Wedding Bells?” Bryn laughed. “Well, I’d know for sure, if someone would let me talk about the yard sale and the cup at work,” Sam groused. “You’ll just have to wait and see what the future unveils…wooo.” Bryn teased in her spookiest voice. *

* 9

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Bryn threw her purse on the bed and kicked off her shoes. Her friend was in the kitchen, pulling sealed tea bags open and boiling water on the stove. Sam was being obstinate over this teacup foolishness. She threw her watch on the dresser and rolled her neck. She was tired. The old woman’s place hadn’t been their first stop that morning. She padded into the kitchen and sat down at the little café table. “We’ll have a spot of tea and then I’ll leave so you can get to bed,” Sam said in a fake British accent. “A spot of tea, huh?” Bryn wasn’t sure why she felt a twinge of nervous energy at the thought. “No need having a conversation piece if you don’t talk about it or use it.” Sam placed the scroll on the table, unrolling it to read the directions. “Besides, I think it would be fun to get as good at tea leaf reading as Maddie. Wasn’t she something?” “She’s got the mysterious old woman routine down pat, I’ll give her that.” The high-pitched whistle alerted them that the water was ready. Sam jumped up to get the kettle, as Bryn eyed the tiny porcelain cup. Funny, the images inside the cup seemed larger, more detailed than before. Wow, she really must be tired, because she couldn’t find the picture of the fence or the kite from Sam’s reading. “Say, didn’t you have a kite and a fence or something in your reading, Sam?” she asked as her friend set the kettle on an oven mitt on the table and put a couple of pinches of tea into the bottom of the cup. “I remember the kite. Maddie said it meant my wishes would come true.” “Well, I don’t see it there now.” “Bryn, it has to be there. Now stop it. I thought you told me once you didn’t believe in all this mumbo-jumbo? “I don’t. It’s all crap.” 10

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“Then the symbol has to be there, and you’re just being silly. Now, come on. Let’s see what’s in your future.” Sam poured just enough hot water in the cup to cover the leaves. Sam instructed Bryn through each step, repeating what Maddie had told them. “This is the fun part, we get to see what the future has in store for you.” Sam slowly revealed each symbol. “An axe crossed…umm, difficulties to overcome it says. A wasp—romantic problems, a hawk— jealously. Whew, that doesn’t sound good, Bryn. I hope the others are better.” “How many more are there?” “Just a few,” she said, flicking a couple of leaves to uncover the symbol below. “A parasol—a new lover, a forked line—a decision to make, a lamp—secrets revealed, and finally, a ring—the cycle is complete, a commitment secured. Well, at least you get a new lover and a ring.” Bryn laughed. “Just what I need in my life right now—a man.” “Look, I know this Jason guy back in Indianapolis hurt you. But you have to move on,” Sam said as she took the cup and saucer into the kitchen to rinse. “I did move on, remember? I moved here, to Kentucky.” “Not all men are like Jason. You can’t give up on love, just because of a dud.” “Yes, I can. I’m happy in my new little life. I like my job and I made a new friend—you.” Sam hugged Bryn tight. “Yes, you did. And it’s because we’ve become such good friends that I want to see you happy.” “I am. But I’ll never let myself fall in love again.” “We’ll see. After all, it looks like you’ll have a new lover soon.” She winked, nodding at the cup. Bryn rolled her eyes, grinning. She helped Sam to the door and 11

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waved good-bye. As she slid the latch and locked up, she thought she heard the sound of a very male chuckle. *

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Maddie stood in front of the oak woodcarving, her hands clasped as if in prayer. She raised her voice above a whisper and chanted words of long ago. Mar a bha, Mar a tha, Mar a bhitheas Gu brath… As it was, As it is, As it shall be Evermore… “Cailleach Bheua, what do you want of me?” The rich timbre of the disembodied voice filled the room. “I have once again fulfilled the true destiny of two seekers and honored my agreement with Bride.” “You’ve done well then, old woman of winter.” “I would warn you, my Lord of the Wood, that one of the seekers holds a rich bloodline. She sensed your son’s presence earlier today. He meant to make mischief,” she told him, wondering if she should also mention the young woman’s flash of fear and suspicion. “Ah, a pleasant surprise, indeed.” Yes, Maddie thought, knowing the greatest surprise would be young Bryn’s when she realized the cup did not forecast the future…but alter known reality. 12

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*

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Bryn was back in Old Maddie’s farmhouse, sitting at that strange wooden table, the branches twining about her legs, trapping her. She kicked out, but their grasp was firm. Her breathing became erratic as she swung her body out in an effort to free her ankles. She tried to scream for help, but her throat felt paralyzed and no sound emerged. All she could hear was the staccato thump of her racing heart. Exhausted and confused, she quit struggling. That’s when she felt the large, warm hand glide down her arm. “You’re dreaming again. All’s well. Breath slow and deep.” The voice was smooth as melted chocolate and reassuring. The farmhouse faded and a new dream took its place. The gentle scrape of an unshaven face on her shoulder finished the transition. But it was the warm male lips kissing the nape of her neck that made it seem all too real. A pair of strong arms snaked around her midriff and pulled her back against a taut, muscular chest. It seemed so long since anyone had held her close and offered comfort. Bryn gave herself up to this new dream and snuggled, loving the warmth of his body. That didn’t make sense. How could a dream lover give off heat? She decided not to examine it closer, just simply enjoy it while it lasted. The wet lap of a tongue licked her earlobe. She squirmed in his arms. “Does that tickle?” he asked, whispering against the curve of her jaw. “Yes…ahh,” she murmured as his lips kissed her throat and his hands began to wander. She gasped when his fingers tugged at her nipples, rolling them between thumb and forefinger. She closed her eyes, savoring all the sensations he was causing throughout her body. She felt his hand slide down her hip to her thigh. He grasped the hem of her silky nightgown and slowly pulled it up 13

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until it bunched above her waist. He placed hot kisses on her hipbone and all along her thigh, before moving her so she lay on her back. “Raise your hips for me just a little, sweetheart.” She complied, trembling in anticipation. His hands slid under her panties and cupped her buttocks for a brief minute before he pulled her underwear completely off. Bryn felt the whisper of a cool breeze against her pussy. Her lover parted her thighs and bent forward to place a lingering kiss at their apex. “I’ve waited so long. Please don’t make me wait any longer,” she begged, arching her back. She let her fingers tangle in his wild, long hair, luxuriating in the silky feel. She needed this on so many levels. Her psyche obviously knew that and created this wonderful man for her to enjoy. His tongue flicked back and forth over her clit, wiping all thoughts from her mind except one—more! “Please,” she whimpered. He lifted his head. “Please what? Please stop?” “No! I need…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words aloud. “What do you need, sweetheart? Do you need this?” His hand slid down her waist to caress her inner thigh. He teased her clit, scissoring his fingers back and forth as she thrashed on the bed, grinding her mound against his hand. “Ohh, yes.” She gasped, as her entire body spin out of control. She tingled with intense, breathtaking pleasure. The euphoria radiated from her pussy like a tide, lapping her in wave after wave of sensation. Drained of energy, her bones limp, she looked at her lover. He began kissing his way back along her curves, his lips slick with her essence. He positioned himself between her parted legs. His eyes glittered in the darkness as he captured her mouth with his own and thrust his cock deep inside of her. 14

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The pleasure of that first penetration left her reeling, the slow, sure strokes designed to drive her into a frenzy. She gripped his biceps, nails digging into his flesh, and cried out as another wave of orgasms began to ride the crest. He pulled her hands from his arms and stretched them high over her head, holding them in place as he continued to surge against her. His mouth was hot against the base of her throat as he groaned her name, signaling his own climax. *

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Lugh took his time looking at the woman in his bed. He smiled as she rolled onto her side, facing him. Her left hand curled on the pillow. He reached out a cautious hand to touch the russet hair that fell softly about her pale shoulders. Last night’s passion had caused him to miss seeing the dusting of light freckles across her nose and cheekbones. Her lips were generous, curved this morning with a faint smile. Was she remembering the night before? Her soft cries of pleasure were like an intoxicating drug. Every whispered plea had made his cock throb and his body ache. Even now, just looking at her, touching her hair, he was rock hard. He had known she was meant for him the minute he spied her through the silver wood and saw the fascination and fleeting recognition in her dark green eyes. Too soon was that look replaced by a touch of fear. Today they would make their pledge over the greenwood. According to their laws, she would then be his wife for a year and a day. Lugh needed no greenwood rite to tell him this woman was his. He’d felt her acceptance in every hushed cry and whispered plea last night. The woman, Bryn, was already his wife. He eased from the bed, careful not to wake her, and put on a loose bathing robe. Looking down, he realized he’d need a cold shower before they could sit and talk. He opened the bedroom door and 15

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motioned to a passing servant. She would no doubt be hungry when she woke. “Tell Cook to send a tray of food for two up to my rooms,” Lugh told the man. “And be quick about it.” “Yes, my Lord Hawke.” The little man grinned and hurried off to tell Cook. *

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She was caught once more. Trapped by the roots of an enormous tree. She kicked out again, this time connecting with a solid form. “Damn, Bryn! Are you trying to neuter me?” She blinked, moving to the far edge of the bed, and reached out, trying to turn on her nightstand lamp. “Bryn, what’s wrong, love?” “Who are you? What are you doing in my apartment?” She gasped, realizing she was naked under the dubious protection of sheets and blankets. She pulled them up under her chin. “Why won’t my lamp come on? Did you cut the power?” “Luminas.” He waved a careless hand toward two wall sconces hidden by the darkness. The room was suddenly flooded with light. But not from the lamp on her nightstand as she’d first thought, because there wasn’t a nightstand or a lamp anywhere in sight. In fact, this wasn’t her bedroom or her apartment! And how had he turned on the lights? Panic gripped her chest, her mind weighing her options—fight or flight. “Bryn, please…you must have been dreaming again.” She gathered the bed sheets around her body and tied them a la toga. After moving away from the tussled bed, she stood between the only exit she could see and the virile male blocking her way. If this were still a dream, she’d be a fool to try to leave. Tall, muscular yet sleek, his long, narrow nose, hooded brown eyes, high cheekbones and long, dark brown hair reminded her of a hunting 16

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hawk. She remembered threading her fingers through the shining dark waves of hair as he kissed her intimately. But that had been a dream— right? Bryn tried to think. She had a few twinges, mostly from muscles she hadn’t used in quite a while. Her legs were shaky and she was a bit sore…down there. Had she…? Did they…? “Ohmigod! We slept together.” Heat crept up her face and neck. “Slept,” he agreed, advancing toward her. “Kissed.” He was within five feet of her. “Touched.” He took three more steps. “Licked,” he whispered on a husky note. He stood less than a foot away, now. “And more, Bryn. So much more,” he said, lowering his head to capture her lips with his. Yes, she remembered the passion in his kiss, and her willing response. He made her feel weak, yet strong—all at the same time. She pulled back in his arms. “I don’t even know your name.” She couldn’t still be dreaming, could she? No, he felt too warm, too solid and real. “Lugh ap Kernun, Lord Hawke, son of The Lord of the Woods. At your service.” “Did you say Hawke?” The name was fitting, eerily so. Odd quivers radiated from her abdomen. “Why are you holding me here? And just exactly where is here?” Bryn fought to hold onto her emotions. She stared into his eyes as a memory from the night before flashed through her mind. She’d writhed on the bed, begging him, half out of her mind with need. He had answered by raking his teeth gently across her sensitive clit, then licking away the rasping ache. Then he’d held both her wrists captive above her head, his tongue dueling with hers, his hot, hard length moving deep inside her. Warmth suffused Bryn’s cheeks. She mustn’t forget for a moment that she’d been brought here against her will. She needed explanations, and Lord Hawke was the 17

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only person who could give her what she desired. But could she trust him? If she ever wanted to see her apartment again, she’d have to play along. “All in good time. First, we eat. Then I will try to answer all your questions.” A knock sounded at the huge double doors. Her host released his hold on her in order to open the entrance. “Perfect timing,” Lord Hawke said in greeting as he waved the little man into the room. The cart was filled with trays of food, a pitcher of juice, two plates and glasses. “Thank you for bringing something to eat.” She glanced around for her purse. “What are you looking for, my sweet?” “I wanted to give him some money, you know, as a tip for bringing up our meal.” She smiled down at the man as he uncovered another tray. “No need for that. We are not at an inn, but my home. Croysin is a retainer, a servant who is paid quite well to look after the needs of my family.” Lugh nodded to the servant and the man bowed to them and left, closing the doors behind him. Bryn’s stomach growled. The smell of cooked bacon and other delights made her mouth water. Lugh poured two cups of the golden juice, handing her one. She sniffed it before sipping. The tart yet sweet blend of pears and apples refreshed her palate. He filled her plate with an ample variety of food. “I still don’t understand—” She began, her mind whirling at the possibilities, none of which made any sense. “Remember our agreement, food first—questions later,” he told her, handing her a fork with the plate. She sat down on the edge of the bed, balancing her plate on her lap and picked up her fork. She noticed there were no knives—not that she could have escaped using a single butter knife, but the thought had 18

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crossed her mind—and maybe his as well. The food tasted as good as it looked, even the stuff in the bowl that had to be grits. She remembered Sam saying to her once that grits were an acquired taste. Sam…what had happened to Sam? “Lord Hawke?” She set her fork down. “I think we’re beyond formalities, Bryn. Call me Lugh.” “Lugh then. My friend Sam, is she all right? She left my apartment last night.” Her stomach knotted at the thought of anything bad happening to Sam. “I imagine your friend is fine. If you wish it, we can look into the silver wood and see.” “The silver wood? I don’t understand?” “You will. Now eat. You must keep up your strength.” *

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*

Afterward, he led her to an adjoining room and handed her towels and a change of clothes. He’d stood there for a minute, as if he was afraid to leave her alone. He frowned, excused himself, and abruptly left the room. Bryn let the bed sheets fall at her feet. He’d promised to take her to the silver wood, whatever that was, so she could check on her friend. He also promised her answers. She walked into the large shower stall, wishing he’d stuck around long enough to give her some hints on how to turn on the water. Finding out where the soap was hidden would have been nice, too. She saw no knobs or levers, no showerhead either. What kind of a shower was this? One that didn’t use water? She ran her hands over the cool tiles, feeling tiny holes spaced an inch apart. Further exploration uncovered a small recess and a bottle of flower and pine scented liquid soap. “Did you have to hide the water?” she muttered, then shrieked as the holes in the tiled walls released jets of water. She poured a few drops of the soap into her hands and began lathering her skin clean. 19

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*

*

*

The Lord of the Wood knew he’d find his son in the grotto. Lugh always came here when he was troubled or confused. His son sat on the grass, busy weaving honeysuckle vines into a garland crown. “Very pretty. But you should take care to make the pattern tighter.” “Father! I didn’t hear you come up the path.” Lugh made to stand, but his father waved him back down. “Perhaps you weren’t meant to until I wished it.” Kernun sat next to him on the cold, hard ground. “I’ve come to meet your bride. I hear she is very pretty.” “She is that and more, Father.” “Then the old woman of winter has indeed kept her bargain. I am happy for you, my son.” He patted Lugh on the shoulder and made to leave. “Father?” “Yes?” “She does not understand who we are—what we are. I worry she might not be able to accept her new life.” “You must keep no secrets from her, and let her choose. The decision shall be hers and hers alone. But there is much you can do to influence her to stay.” Kernun winked, chuckling at his son’s sudden sly expression. “I will meet her later, since you have some explaining and a great deal of convincing yet to do. I have every confidence in you, son.” “Thank you.” Lugh’s father disappeared into the woods. Had his own mother been as unaware of the green magick as his darling Bryn? He looked over at the stone angel that marked his mother’s grave. He could only recall her sweet laughter as she held his hand and they skipped through the meadow together. He’d been so very young when he’d lost her. Lugh tightened the weave, adding a spray of baby’s breath and 20

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lavender as a finishing touch to his bride’s crown. She’d had enough time to dress, he thought, as he began the long walk back to the manor. *

*

*

The clothes fit rather well, considering they weren’t hers. The jade dress hugged her curves, ending an inch above the knee. The shoes that came with the garment were dark green suede and were similar in style to moccasin boots. She probably looked like a stoplight, with her auburn hair and green outfit in stark contrast to her pale skin. She’d gone in search of Lugh without success. The home was more like a mansion or a palace than a simple house, with plenty of room to become lost. She tried to backtrack to the room—his room, and found herself in the library. Glancing around, she saw a large desk of gleaming golden oak. To the side, stood one of those old time globe maps on an antique brass stand. She made her way across the room, idle curiosity pulling her toward the oak desk and the globe. She opened the heavy drapery, allowing the sunlight to pass through the windows unimpeded. Now able to see her surroundings better, Bryn spun the globe with a lazy hand and scanned the bookshelves. Subject matter was limited to history and philosophy with a smattering of poetry thrown in for good measure. She glanced at the globe as it slowly came to a rest. She could see most of the major landmasses, but the names were all wrong. America was Tir-Na-Sorcha, Canada was Mag Mell, and all of Britain, Scotland and Ireland were known as Tir-n’an-Og. Who would create such an odd map? Bryn didn’t question the impulse that sent her racing around the desk and back to the bookshelves. She pulled out the nearest history book and opened to the first page.

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A HISTORY OF THE FIRST CIVIL WAR By Donn The first civil war? Bryn grabbed another book off the shelf. THE ETHICAL USE OF MAGICKAL WEAPONRY By Mann mac Lir They couldn’t be serious…could they? She took half a dozen books from the shelves at random and sat down at the desk to read. *

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Lugh found her over an hour later, pert nose buried in one of his father’s dusty tomes. “I see you’ve been keeping busy.” He picked up one of the discarded leather-bound books. “Ah, The Completed Sonnets of Liam Shakespear, a classic.” “This isn’t Earth, is it?” Bryn’s eyes were red-rimmed as if she’d been crying. Tears sparkled like tiny diamonds on the tips of her russet eyelashes. Her voice held a shaky quality that alarmed him. Lugh sat down beside her and clasped her hands in his own. Her lower lip trembled uncontrollably as he lifted her hands to his lips for a gentle kiss. She deserved to know, but he hesitated, unsure where to start. “This is Earth, but not the one you know. I suppose it is best explained as the same place, the same time, but a different, alternate reality.” “How did I get here? How did something like this happen?” “I think it’s time you saw something. Come with me.” Lugh took her hand and helped her from the chair. “Where are we going?” “To the silver wood,” he told her, as he guided her through the hallways and out into the gardens. 22

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*

*

*

Her mind raced and her mouth went dry. Maybe this was all just a very vivid dream. Wake up, wake up, wake up! she yelled inside her head. What if that tea was tainted and she was simply tripping on some hallucinogenic drug? But no, Sam had used tea bags from her own cupboards. It couldn’t be true. He had to be lying. And yet, what other explanation fit? Would she ever see her tiny apartment again? She hadn’t lived there long, but it was part of her life, just like her friend and co-worker Sam, her brother Mark, even her ex, Jason. What would they think happened to her? She knew Jason wouldn’t care unless money was involved. Sam would be worried, probably searching for her. Mark was a cop back in Chicago. She knew he would do all he could to find her—but it wouldn’t be enough. She was lost in a world they didn’t know existed. Or at least that was the tale Lugh wanted her to believe. It all came down to trust. Did she trust the man clasping her hand? What did she know about him anyway? He’s amazing in bed. Well, yeah, after sixteen mind-shattering orgasms, she had to admit Lugh was a very talented lover. He’s gorgeous. The man had hard pecs, washboard abs, and an ass any woman would love to squeeze, so yeah, gorgeous was a given. But did sexual chemistry add up to trust? She forced her mind to concentrate on where she was being led. The path gave way to a lush forest. Rustling sounds echoed in the thicket. Would the animals in this so-called reality be similar to the ones she knew back home? If Lugh were telling the truth, she hoped he had something handy to defend them with—like a gun or knife. He was moving through the woods at a steady clip. She tried to keep up, but her foot caught on a thick, exposed root and she fell to her 23

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knees. “Are you all right, love?” Lugh helped her to her feet. And he’s gentle and thoughtful. Damn, she wished her conscience would shut the hell up. If she found a way out of this mess, that didn’t mean she was abandoning him. “Yes, I’m fine. How much farther?” “Not far. Follow me.” He slowed his pace, glancing over his shoulder every so often. Despite getting stuck here, there was an up-side to the situation— Lugh. Every time he threw out an endearment, she flashed back to last night. Because he was much taller than she was, she always trailed behind. Of course, there were advantages to following him—like the view. She’d never admit it aloud, but her hands ached to touch him, to caress that perfect, tight ass of his. Lugh was a beautifully sculpted man, front and back. She smiled in spite of her weariness. Soon they reached a clearing. She could see something gleaming in the distance. He stopped to allow her to rest for a minute, then was tugging at her once again. He helped her climb over a fallen log, then pointed toward a group of trees just ahead. He let go of her hand and walked to the nearest of the trees. The bark was almost black, but as he peeled back a layer on the trunk, the wood underneath was brilliant silver. “When you said silver wood, you meant it literally.” “Yes. The nature of the wood allows us to see into your reality, much like looking through a window.” Lugh exposed an eight-inch square. Silver-colored sap ran from the wound. He stood before the tree, his hands moving in a circular fashion as he chanted in a strange, yet beautiful language. The sap melded, forming a hard reflective surface where Lugh had peeled away the rough outer bark. “How did you do that?” She lay her hand against the newly created 24

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metal. The strange mirror was cold to the touch. “The silver wood is ready for you. Put your breath upon it and wipe it with this,” he said, handing her a small cloth from his pocket. Just like the fog on a window, her warm breath did the same to the silver wood. As she wiped it clear, she saw the interior of a house that looked familiar. She was staring at an antique china cabinet and a dining room table. Bryn squeezed Lugh’s arm. “I know that place! It’s Old Maddie’s farmhouse—her dining room to be precise! Will she hear me if I yell out? Can she see me?” “If she’s standing directly in front of us, she’ll see a shimmer of energy in the wood. She won’t hear us though, unless both sides wish it.” “I don’t understand, Lugh. Why wouldn’t she see us? Wait, what is she looking through in order to see us…er, our energy? Is it a mirror of some kind?” “No, Bryn. It’s a carved piece of ensorcelled wood taken from this forest and made in the shape of a man. Actually, my father, Kernun, The Lord of the Woods.” “The woodcarving on the wall! That was your father?” “Yes. He speaks to the old woman of winter through the wood” “Then it was your father who spied on us that day!” “Not exactly…” He cocked his head to one side as if pondering his next words. “It was me. I am sorry, but I didn’t know then. You must believe me.” “Maddie! Maddie, are you there? Speak to me! Why did you do this to me? Someone please help!” Lugh took hold of her shoulders, pulling her away. “She’s not there. You’ll scream yourself hoarse if you continue.” “Why?” She looked up, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes, and trailing down the curve of her cheeks. “Why would she do this to me? What has she done to Sam?” 25

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“The one you call Maddie was banished from our reality for breaking a promise to Bride, my grandmother. Before my mother’s death, my grandmother relented and sent a magickal teacup through the silver wood mirrors.” “Omigod! The fortune telling teacup! My friend Sam has it, she bought it from Old Maddie.” “Each symbol on the cup represents a different aspect of reality. Together, they combine to form a unique path. Once the seeker drinks from the cup, those symbols chosen by the leaf are erased.” Lugh lifted her chin with his fingertips. “Do you understand what I’m saying, Bryn?” “The cup chose this path for me? But why?” “Because, sweet one, you come from a very old and powerful bloodline.” At her blank look, he smiled, adding, “A fey bloodline.” “Fey as in…fey? Faery? Do I look like Tinkerbell?” “I don’t know anyone named Tinkerbell, but you have the blood of the Sidhe flowing through your veins.” *

*

*

As they walked back to the manor, he tried to explain what he knew of her bloodline. “A long time ago, my grandmother banished others of your kind. People who broke the code, like Maddie and, according to my father, your grandmother.” “What could she have done that was so terrible it deserved banishment to another dimension?” “I do not know. Those books were sealed before my mother died. What I do know is once you drank from the cup, it recognized you as part fae and unlocked the gateway to bring you to our realm. Once the symbols disappear from the cup, they cannot be brought back. The symbols determine where you will be sent.” “So the symbols on the cup are the key and without them, I can’t 26

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leave?” “I’m sorry.” “There’s no fail safe?” “What is a fail safe?” Lugh looked at her, perplexed. “That’s a back-up system of some kind, so if things go wrong, you’re not screwed.” “I don’t know of one, but you can always ask my father. He is the most knowledgeable of our elders, and as Lord of the Woods, he would most likely be in a position to know.” “Well, I guess that’s that.” Bryn lengthened her stride, no doubt in a hurry to get away from him. But he had once last thing to tell her. “Bryn—please stop. We don’t have much time and I must tell you before we reach the manor.” She pivoted, her head lowered. Was she pouting or crying? Lugh hoped it was neither. “The cup sent you here for a reason. You are a part of us, yes. But you are my betrothed, the mate promised from Bride herself. Father has already informed the servants and the townsfolk. We marry later this afternoon.” *

*

*

She wanted to throw things at him. She wanted to scream! How dare he—how dare they? Instead, Bryn lay on the big bed, alternating between states of anxiety, depression, denial, acceptance and sexual excitement—the last of which really pissed her off! Who knew a tiny porcelain teacup could pack such a wallop? If only she could notify Sam. An idea began forming in her head. It would require her to go through with the marriage. But once she contacted Sam she felt sure they’d be able to think of something. So, you’d trick him, then try to run away? He tricked me first. How? 27

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He let me believe I was dreaming, so he could have sex with me. Are you sure he knew that’s what you were thinking? That it was all a dream? Bryn gritted her teeth. Having a conscience was a real annoyance. *

*

*

Lugh sent a female servant to help his bride dress for their wedding. Bryn had been very quiet since her earlier upset at his news. He attempted to quell his excitement and his fears. What if she refused to go through with the wedding? He tried to understand her point of view. Thrust into a strange world, different from all she knew, she had to be scared. Being made love to by a man she didn’t know, told that she could never go back to her old life, then pushed into marriage…it was a wonder she hadn’t gone off the deep end. She was his promised mate, sent by Old Maddie to honor the bargain made by his grandmother. The cup would have sent to her a different reality had she not been the one. He didn’t need a magickal cup or a crystal ball to tell him she was his chosen. He’d tasted the truth of it on her lips. If it took him a lifetime, he would convince her of that. A knock on the door signaled him it was time for the wedding to commence. He gathered his hair into a warrior knot and slid the emerald and silver clasp of his clan over the thick tail of hair. He wore the traditional brown and green of the Wood and Hawke clan. Taking a last look in the mirror, he sighed. He would never be classically handsome, but at least he hoped he didn’t frighten his soon-to-be wife. *

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Bryn ran a hand down the ivory and green velvet wedding dress. She looked around to see if the ensemble came with a veil. “Are you sure this is traditional for a wedding. It’s two different colors,” Bryn asked the maid once again. “Yes, my lady. If it please you, a gift from Lord Hawke.” The 28

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servant handed her an intricately woven circle of vines. Baby’s breath and lavender were threaded throughout, along with a string of ivory pearls. “This is beautiful!” She placed the circlet on top of her auburn curls. “Lord Hawke is quite talented,” the woman commented. “He made this?” Her eyes widened in shock. She couldn’t picture Lugh having the patience to create such a lovely garland—or the desire. “Yes, my lady.” The woman stepped back. “May I help you with anything else?” “No. I’m fine. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” “I will inform Croysin.” The door click shut behind the servant. As she looked in the mirror, she wondered at the beautiful woman that looked back at her. Her stomach fluttered. Could she go through with this? She had to. If Lugh and his father were right, then she was stuck here forever and had better make the best of it. Without his offer of marriage, where would she go? What would she do? She already knew they were compatible in bed. She imagined her life here with Lugh. It would be good, damn good. Kernun, Lugh’s father, had explained to her earlier that the wedding would be a greenwood marriage, meaning it would last a year and a day. When the time came, she could renew her vows or not—it was her choice. The knowledge that it wasn’t forever, that she could choose, allowed her to go through with the wedding. If nothing else, it gave her additional time to seek a way back to her world. She refused to believe it was impossible. Bryn came down the stairs, dressed in a fantasy. The servants directed her to a picturesque grotto filled with flowered archways, moss-covered stones and a large pond complete with a sparkling 29

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waterfall. Hundreds of guests sat in white folding chairs, and nudged each other as, one by one, they spotted her arrival. A bard wandered through the wedding party, strumming a mandolin and singing a cheerful song about hope and desire. She took a deep breath and smiled at the guests. Her future fatherin-law spied her just inside the archway of roses and cued the bard. Kernun stood at the water’s edge wearing his sable robes, looking very official. A new melody filled the air, poignant and serene. Kernun nodded for her to begin walking toward him. Lugh had his broad back to her. The music stopped as she took the last step to stand beside her groom. She hoped no one could hear her knees knock. *

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Lugh’s father said the words of joining, but Lugh couldn’t concentrate beyond the womanly vision next to him. She carried herself with a grace seldom found. Her eyes sparkled, her lips were soft and inviting. Her magnificent breasts rose with each breath she took, threatening to spill over the crushed velvet bodice. He held his own breath for an instance, in anticipation. Her waist looked incredibly small to his eyes. It was obvious she wasn’t eating enough. He made a mental note to see that she ate more. It was now his duty and his pleasure to take good care of her—whether she liked it or not. His hooded gaze continued their journey. The gown flared over the rich curves of her hips to fall in a pool at her small feet, hiding the supple, yet soft legs he envisioned wrapped around his waist tonight. He licked suddenly dry lips. He didn’t plan to stay at the reception for very long. She said something, and he forced his eyes upward. She wore the garland crown he’d made for her. A deep tug pulled at his heart. He caught her glance and smiled. She touched the circlet of honeysuckle 30

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vines atop her head, and mouthed a thank you. Lugh took a calming breath to still the impulse to claim his bride. *

*

*

The ceremony passed in a blur for her. His smoldering stare licked a fiery brand along her skin–almost a tangible touch throughout the ceremony. A stray glance down at his pants told her exactly how badly he wanted her. She squeezed her thigh muscles in anticipation. At the end of the rite, they held each other’s hands and jumped together over a large wooden broom held by Lugh’s friends. The party cheered as the groom leaned forward to claim his prize. Lugh slanted his mouth across her lips for a deep kiss that left her trembling and a bit confused. Bryn grew more nervous as time wore on. Could she go through with it—make love to him and then leave as if nothing mattered? He was laughing at something one of their guests said. Lugh sounded so happy. She’d thought she’d fallen in love many times before. But now, seeing the glimmer of laughter in his eyes, she knew. No, she wouldn’t leave him, even if she could. She trusted him. He’d told her the truth—there was no way back home. Still, she worried about Sam. At the least, she should try to contact Maddie. The old woman owed her a favor after duping them both. She would have Lugh take her back to the woods and tell Maddie to give her friend a message. Decision made, a weight lifted from her shoulders, conscience finally satisfied. She looked over at her new husband and grinned. She hoped her future included many sleepless nights. *

*

*

Lugh accepted yet another toast to his blushing bride and waited for an opportunity to leave the gathering. He took Bryn’s hand and stood to thank the guests. 31

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“Not leaving so soon, are ye, Lord Hawke?” A drunken guest questioned. “Of course he is. Do ye blame him?” The other guest cast a lascivious glance at her breasts. “Ach, no. I wonder he tarried this long.” The words were met with a sudden burst of laughter from his father. “Get ye gone, son. And don’t mind us.” “I won’t. I plan to have my hands full.” Lugh winked at the guests and bid them goodnight. He lead Bryn up the stairs to their bedroom. “Those ribald remarks were embarrassing,” she said and took off her garland crown. She placed the circlet on a nearby chair and kicked off her shoes. When she reached behind her back to unbutton her gown, he stilled her hands. “Allow me, my lady.” Lugh turned her around and slowly undressed her, placing a firm, warm kiss on each inch of exposed skin. She tasted like warmed brandy. Each sip of her skin made him forget any plan of gentle seduction. He kept a tight rein on his hunger. The gown fell in a graceful pool of velvet to her feet. She wore nothing but lacy underwear. “A couple were actually funny. Although I thought you overplayed the jealous husband when your cousin decided to kiss the bride.” “That kiss lasted far longer than it should. He’s lucky I didn’t tear him to pieces.” Lugh lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. “From now on, no one kisses you but me. Understood?” “I wouldn’t dream of kissing anyone else.” She pulled his head down. The touch of her tongue dueling with his made every muscle tighten. He let her control the kiss–for now. Lugh broke away to slide the lacy underwear down her silken thighs and calves. “I’ve been thinking about this since last night. Wondering if I only imagined how sweet you are.” He dipped a finger between her legs and felt her shiver. 32

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“You’re overdressed, my lord Hawke.” “So I am. What should we do about it?” His smile was roguish. “I think I have a solution.” Bryn untied the vest and threw it onto a nearby chair. She unbuttoned his shirt, easing it from his shoulders and chest with her fingernails. It fell to the floor. She ran one hand across the warmth of his muscled chest, before moving her hand lower to rest against the waistband of his pants. She eased her fingers inside and cupped him. “Don’t stop there.” Lugh took a shuddering breath. She released him with a gentle pat and pulled off his shoes, then his trousers. She moved up the bed, allowing her warm skin to brush ever so slightly against his naked heat. She felt his fingers once again tease open her pussy lips. She wrapped one hand in the silky brown hair of his elegant ponytail and gave it a tug. “No, tonight is my turn,” she whispered in his ear, pulling his head back. “I plan to drive you crazy. I want to hear you beg for it.” She licked his jaw. “Think you can handle it?” “I think you’ll give in long before I do and beg me to take you, sweetheart.” Bryn arched an eyebrow. “Sounds like a challenge.” Without warning, she pushed him back onto the bed using her legs and hips for leverage, and held him in place with a sultry look. She straddled his waist, her moist heat pressed intimately against his rippled abdomen. “You have to follow the rules.” “What rules?” Lugh asked in a husky growl. His eyes were slits of fire. Good, she’d finally gotten his attention. “First, you can’t touch me unless I say so. Put your hands behind your head and don’t move them.” “Like this?” He raised his arms so that his elbows were spread on the pillow on either side of his face, with his hands cupping the back of 33

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his neck. “Very good. Now you have to spread your legs for me and keep them still.” “So far this sounds boring.” He yawned for effect. Boring, huh? “Well, we’ll see how bored you get.” Bryn climbed his torso and leaned down to part his lips with her tongue. “Open your mouth for me.” He complied, letting her do whatever she wanted…for now. Bryn deepened the kiss. When she raised her mouth from his, she noticed his pupils were dilated. He was musk and hot spice, steel covered by satiny skin. Her lips needed to suck and lick every hard ridge of his flesh. Make him cry out her name. She trailed her lips over his neck and chest, only pausing to flick the pulse point in his throat with her tongue, or his flat nipples. Her tongue bisected his abs down the middle, following a silky line of dark brown hair that curled, arrowing to the rough thatch surrounding his thick cock. Bryn raised her head, looked at him with a wicked gleam in her eyes. He winked, but she also saw him take a steadying breath. She gently squeezed his balls, rolling them in her right hand. She grasped the base of his cock with her left and proceeded to lower her mouth, making sure he had a good view. She let her teeth lightly graze his shaft, before licking away the sting. His cock twitched in her hand. “You’re being so good. But I really want you to be bad.” Without further warning, she took him inside her mouth and sucked him, bobbing her head. She was teasing him beyond control, stopping midmotion to lick the pre-cum from the tip of his cock, before continuing. Lugh moaned as his biceps bulged with the effort to keep his hands behind his head and his legs still. He gritted his teeth, abs tensed while his legs trembled from the strain. Did he hear correctly? Did his russethaired vixen just say she wanted him to be bad? He decided to teach her a lesson. This particular hawk wasn’t tame. He pulled his hands 34

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from behind his head and tangled his fingers in her fiery curls, guiding her rhythm. He groaned, his balls spasmed. He stilled his hand’s motion on her head and lifted her chin. Her eyes were glittering with heat. He wanted to come in that tempting little mouth, but he had a better idea. He switched position, kneeling on the bed behind her. He maneuvered pillows under her lower abdomen, repositioning her so that she was on her knees facing away from him. He squeezed the soft globes of her ass as he slid into her wet pussy from behind. “Omigod! Oh, oh, yes,” she cried out at the deep thrust of his swollen cock. He pulled out, his control near shattered. “Why did you stop?” “I’m not ready yet, not until you beg me,” he told her, his voice a rough growl. “That’s not fair!” “Hmm, it seemed fair to you when you were the one teasing me.” She wiggled her hips. “No cheating.” He lifted one of his hands from her ass and brought it down again in a light smack. “Ow, that smarts!” Surprise colored her voice rather than pain. She arched her back and slanted a look over her shoulder. She was so wet. His little vixen liked it. He gripped her hips and slid inch by agonizing inch back inside her sheath. “Oh, ohh…” She bent forward to clutch at a pillow, “Harder,” she cried, her voice muted by the fluffy cushion. Lugh drove his cock harder and faster, one hand slipping between them to rub and pinch her clit. Her hips were gyrating wildly now, pushing backward. She threw her head back, her hair cascading past her shoulders. “Tell me what you want.” He punctuated each command with a 35

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stinging slap on her ass. “Tell me what you need.” She could only moan. His fingers flicked over her clit again and again, the other hand lightly spanking her as he plunged deeper. “I need…,” she whimpered, sobbing, begging. “I’ll stop if you don’t tell me,” Lugh threatened, although he knew he was beyond the point of stopping. “Oh please, please fuck me—I’m almost there. I—oh, oh, yes!” Bryn cried out, shaking in the glow of her orgasms. Lugh slammed into her hips one last time, climaxing inside her pussy, fingers flexed on her hips. Spent, he collapsed next to her. “I guess you won,” she said, completely satiated, rolling onto her side to face him. “We both won.” Lugh brushed the hair from her eyes and sealed their future with his kiss.

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CASSANDRA CURTIS Cassandra Curtis started her writing career in grade school. She would illustrate and write colorful stories using magic markers, crayons and sheets from her alphabet tablet, and sell them to other school kids for a penny. While the venture didn’t make a lot of fast money, it did mean she could indulge her love of comic books and not spend summers behind a lemonade stand with her sisters. She spent her formative years traveling the globe with her parents, learning a smattering of languages—usually just enough to get her in trouble. After college, she worked as a reporter and photojournalist at a weekly paper, then a daily, while continuing her love of art. Ms. Curtis now writes fiction full-time. An avid gardener and wildlife enthusiast, she enjoys the magick found in nature. Her interests include: art, antiques, astronomy, folklore, mythology, genealogy, music, eastern philosophy and collecting magickal artifacts. A member of both the World Romance Writers, and Romance Divas, Ms. Curtis won the 2006 Amber Quill Press Heat Wave Contest with her story Cup of Fate. She shares her home with an elderly, opinionated cat named Snowy and a shorthaired, nondomesticated alpha male, “Honey.” You can learn more about Cassandra by visiting her website: http://cassandracurtis.com

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