Beyond the Highland Myst(605)

The loathing spawned between him and Darroc that day had never waned. Leashed by the queen, under threat of dire recompense (a soulless death at the queen's hand, no less), they'd taken their vicious battle into the arena of court politics. An arena in which Adam had perfected his powers of subtlety and seduction, tools he'd used to defeat Darroc on many occasions. The Elder, too, had changed with time, perfecting a cunning that equaled his brutality. While Darroc secured a seat on the queen's council, Adam managed to secure her ear in other ways. He and the Elder were by far the most powerfully persuasive figures at court, staunchly on opposing sides, and with Adam gone... well, he had no doubt that already the complacent courtiers were being turned to the Elder's arms. How long, he brooded darkly, before Darroc managed to turn some of them against Aoibheal herself? Was she aware of the danger she'd created by casting Adam out?

So Darroc had tried to kill him, he mused. And with guns at that. Had he been trying to make it look as if Adam had gotten caught in stray fire from some human dispute? Knowing Darroc, he would play the odds that once Adam was gone, the queen would be able to prove nothing if Adam's body sported only man-made wounds.

Though Adam mocked human law, Tuatha Dé code was equally convoluted. Without solid proof, the queen would never punish one of their own. Their numbers were no longer increasing as they'd once been. Though he'd once told Circenn he was virile in Tuatha Dé form, it had been but one of many, many lies he'd told his son. Few of them could still sire offspring, and although the Tuatha Dé didn't exactly die, sometimes they... went away.

Gabrielle stirred in his arms, jarring him from his thoughts. She shifted, tucking her knees up. snuggling closer to his body. She was curled on her side between his legs, cradled against his chest, and he sucked in a sharp breath, shuddering, as the generous, sweet curve of her hip nestled against his cock. Which was, as ever, ready and willing. That part of his body was simply uncontrollable, apparently functioning in accordance to a single law of nature: She existed— he got a hard-on.

Christ, he wanted her. Force had never seemed such a tempting option, yet force would make him no better than Darroc.

He would accept nothing less than her willing surrender.

But, bloody hell, it had better be soon. He was currently only human. With a Tuatha Dé's conscience. Or lack thereof.





* * *





Gabby stretched gingerly, taking careful note of every muscle in her body that ached.

That would be all of them.

She was crinked from head to toe and dream-befuddled, with absolutely no idea where she was.

She opened her eyes warily.

Adam Black was staring down at her, his dark gaze unfathomable.

"Good morning, ka-lyrra." he purred with a slow, heart-stoppingly sexy smile.

"Highly debatable," she muttered. Any morning that had him in it was bound to be many things, but good was hardly the first adjective she'd choose. Dangerous? Yes. Endlessly tempting? Yes. Eventful. Perhaps even fascinating. But not good.

"I'd have procured coffee for you but you're on top of me, and I was loath to disturb your slumber."

He looked as if he were about to say more, but she didn't give him the chance. She was too appalled by her discovery that he was reclining back against the window and she was sprawled uninhibitedly on top of his big, warm body, astride one of his powerful thighs (with something hard against her belly that she was trying really, really hard not to think about), her breasts crushed against his chest, and oh— her hand was curled in his hair! As if she'd been petting him or something in her sleep! "Sorry," she said hastily, disentangling herself, snapping upright, and scooting away.

He came with her, his hand closing around her wrist like a steel band. "Not so fast, Irish."

"Let me g— " Gabby froze. She'd managed to get off him and was sitting up all right. But something was wrong. It took her a moment to figure out what it was. Someone else was sitting in her.

Sitting in her.

She opened her mouth to scream but he clamped a hand over it. He rose, pulling her up with him, and half-carried, half-dragged her from their seats. Holding her tightly, he walked her down the aisle through car after car until they came to an empty one.

Only then did he let her go.

Wide-eyed, she backed up against a seat and stared at him. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly.

''Easy, ka-lyrra. It's just the effect of the féth fiada"

Her tongue unstuck. "What are you saying?" she wailed. "Am I cursed now too? Did you let somebody curse me while I was sleeping? Is it contagious or something?" She thumped him in the chest with a fist. "How could you do this to me? I trusted you!"