Beyond the Highland Myst(614)

He made a small sound then, a tired sound. Not a sleepy sound, but an immortally weary one. Then he tinned and resumed walking away.

She heard the refrigerator door open and close. Then silence. Then his deep, rich bun-floated softly through the suite. "Since 847, Gabrielle."





* * *





It was one in the morning by the time Gabby pulled out the sofa bed, still mulling over what Adam had revealed. She'd not missed the significance of the dates. Morganna had died mid-ninth century, had refused his offer of immortality and, right around that time, Adam Black had been seen by not just O'Callaghans but oodles of others, on a violent rampage through the Highlands.

Over Morganna?

Had Adam Black gone into a rage when he'd lost her? And if so, why had he permitted her to die? He'd been all-powerful; he could have forced her to stay alive, forced her to take his "elixir of life" (which was a mind-boggling concept in and of itself!).

Who was Morganna? What had she been like? Why had she refused it? How long had Adam spent with her? Had she lived her whole life with him? Woken up each morning with a Fae prince beside her in bed? Been spoiled every day by his crazy excesses, gone to sleep sated each night in his arms?

What had been so special about her that he'd tried to make her immortal?

"I could really hate that woman," she muttered beneath her breath.

Adam Black had had a relationship with a mortal woman, fathered a son with her, tried to make her live forever.

And Gabby was feeling... oh, for heaven's sake, she thought, exasperated, jealous. Envious that she kept denying herself, but Morganna hadn't. No. Morganna had taken what he offered, plunged right into it, taken all of it. She'd touched him and kissed him and gone to bed with him. She'd played with all that silky dark hair, felt it sweeping over her naked body. She'd tasted gold-velvet fairy skin, had sizzling hot fairy sex with him. Even borne his son.

And when she died, he'd razed the Highlands. In his grief? Or had it merely been the petulance of a child denied his favorite toy?

Who cares? I wouldn't mind being that man's favorite toy for a lifetime, a teenage voice cooed dreamily. Beats the hell out of the boyfriends you keep picking. Why settle for normal when you could have a life full of fairy tail?

''Shut up," she muttered "I'm having a hard enough time without you tossing your two cents' worth in. And spare me the juvenile puns."

Scowling, she punched the pillows, plumped them, then snapped the blanket out, spreading it over the sofa bed. She'd just gotten it arranged when he came up behind her, slipped his hands around her waist, and pulled her back against him, her shoulders to his rib cage. The heat of his big body scorched her thorough her clothing and she could taste his exotic spicy scent on each shallow breath she drew.

"Did you never wonder, Gabrielle?" he said softly, ducking his mouth close to her ear.

"Wonder what?" she managed, holding very, very still. He'd left just a tiny bit of space between their lower bodies, a tantalizing, tempting amount of space. She would not let her traitorous body bridge it. Would not let herself lean into him. searching with her bottom for that rock-hard arousal he always had. She realized then, with a bit of a start, that she liked that he was always hard around her. She'd grown accustomed to his incessant seduction. It was a heady thing, to know that the sin siriche du was so turned on by her. And the fact that he was so turned on fed her own desire. Being the focus of such intense lust from such an intensely beautiful man/ fairy was the most potent of aphrodisiacs.

God, he was dangerous. But she'd known that from the beginning. He'd come packaged with O'Callaghan warning labels: Avoid contact at all cost. Didn't get much clearer than that.

"In all your years of watching us, of being forbidden to look at us, and having to pretend you couldn't see us, did you never wonder what it would be like to touch one of us?" He slid his hands slowly up from her waist, and she knew he was giving her time to pull away, wagering that she wouldn't, and God help her, she knew she should, but she couldn't seem to get enough breath to do so. Her heart was pounding like a sledgehammer against the wall of her chest.

There was a long tense moment where neither of them moved or spoke.

Abruptly, he filled his hands with her breasts.

The breath she'd been trying to gather exploded from her lungs in a hiss. Her skin sizzled beneath the fabric of her shut, as nerve endings arced to instant, insatiable life. She could only imagine how incredible it would feel to have his bare hands on her bare skin; those big, strong blacksmith hands all over her body. With that extra brush of Fae he had, she fancied she might go up in flames from the sheer erotic heat of it.

He made an edgy sound that was so animalistic and full of sexual hunger that her knees nearly buckled, and she swayed for a moment. His grip tightened on her breasts, causing her to draw in a long ragged inhalation, but he didn't offer her the full support of his body; he still kept himself, from the waist down, that slight, provocative distance away. "You have beautiful breasts, ka-lyrra. I've been wanting to fill my hands up with these since the moment I saw you. Plump and full and soft and..." he trailed off with a little purring noise deep in his throat.