Beyond the Highland Myst(575)

Chin up, resolve firm, she opened the door.

Powerful body filling the doorway, it stood there, lips curved in a dangerous smile.

"Hello. Gabrielle." Adam Black said.





4





Adam arrived at 735 Monroe Street prepared for the woman to be a bit skittish.

After all, she'd run from him earlier, obviously intimidated by his overwhelming masculinity and epic sexuality. Women often had that reaction to him, especially when he was stripping off his pants. Or kilt, depending on the century.

He was also prepared, however, for her inhibitions to drop swiftly, as did all women's when they got a good, close-up look at him.

After that, many simply launched themselves at him in a full-frontal assault of sexual frenzy. He'd been entertaining himself with just that possibility, his entire body tight with lust, while tracking her down with the information he'd obtained in the room called "Human Resources" at Little & Staller.

But nothing in his vast repertoire of experience had prepared him for Gabrielle O'Callaghan

The bloodthirsty little hellion didn't react like any woman he'd ever encountered. She took one horrified look at him, drew back her arm, hauled off, and smashed him in the face with some kind of satchel she was holding.

Then slammed the door and locked it.

Leaving him on the doorstep, bleeding. Bleeding, by Danu, blood trickling from his lip!

Well, he'd just gotten confirmation that she was indeed fully immune to the féth fiada, or she'd not have been able to bust his lip. It wasn't quite how he'd imagined learning it.

His eyes narrowed, his teeth bared in a snarl.

Where the hell had that come from? He'd never been hit by a woman. None had ever raised a hand against him. Women adored him. Couldn't get enough of him. Fact was, they worshiped him. What the bloody hell was her problem?

Damned Irish. One could never predict the tempers of those fiery, moody Gaels. Obdurate as stones, they passed through the centuries untouched by evolution, as hotheaded and barbaric today as they'd been in the Iron Age.

He arched a brow, trying to fathom her reaction. He glanced down at himself. No latent part of the queen's curse had kicked in, mutating him into something hideous while he'd not been paying attention. He was still his usual irresistible self: the sexy, dark-eyed, muscle-bound Highland blacksmith who drove women wild.

After a moment's reflection, he decided that she just wanted to play rough. Liked her men dominant, aggressive, and dangerous.

He shrugged. Fine. After three hellish months of being cursed, three miserable months of celibacy, he was feeling all that and more.

He could use an outlet.





* * *





Gabby was at the front door, her hand closing on the doorknob, when the back door exploded open, spraying slivers of door frame and bits of dead bolt everywhere.

Metal and wood screeched protest as two-hundred-plus pounds of furious fairy blasted through it.

Knowing she had the lead by mere precious seconds, she turned the knob and yanked the door open, only to feel the thud of its palms on either side of her head, smashing it shut again.

Impossible! No way it could move that fast!

But it had, and now she was trapped: hard door in front, harder fairy behind.

For a few frantic moments she ducked and twisted, trying to escape, but it moved with her, seeming to anticipate her every feint and joust, bracing its hands on either side of her, caging her in with its powerful body.

Unable to evade, she went still as a cornered animal. Dozens of things to say collided in her mind, all of them beginning with a pathetic little "please." But she was damned if she was going to beg; it would probably enjoy that.

She bit her tongue and kept her mouth firmly shut. If she was going to die, she would die proud. Stiffening stoically, she prepared herself to meet whatever grisly end it had in store for her.

But an end, she realized swiftly, wasn't what it had in mind at all.

Grazing its jaw against her hair, it growled low in its throat, and there was no mistaking the hungry, sensual edge to the sound.

Oh, God she thought wildly, just like the Books said, it's going to try to seduce me before it kills me.

It snared her hands and, though she struggled wildly, she was no match for its immense strength. Stretching her arms above her head, it flattened her palms against the door and molded all that rock-hard fairy body to hers.

Gabby's eyes flew wide.

Her first forbidden, absolutely electrifying fairy-feel. And with it, the answer to a question she'd been trying desperately not to wonder about for years.

No— they were not like mortal men. At least not any she'd ever felt. Whuh.

She swallowed. Hard. Despite the clothing between them, her skin positively sizzled where Adam was pressed against her. Heavens, she thought dimly, what would it feel like to rub her naked body up against a fairy? Might she go up in erotic flames?