His deep, dark voice poured over them like hot milk. “My delicious daughters.” Daughters? “My most lovely creations. How may I be of service?” He smiled at the two women, bringing Eliza’s attention to his mouth. A bitable mouth.
A flush of unwanted heat went through her.
The blonde, now blushing spoke. “My Lord, we have one who desires to join.”
And then he looked at Eliza. Beneath thick, dark brows that slashed over eyes of stunning gold, he hit her with the force of his gaze, and Eliza’s world turned on its end. Him. It was him. She blinked, not understanding why he felt so very familiar, so very right. It didn’t matter, for his expression grew covetous and calculating, and she feared she’d need all her wits with this one. Fate, it seemed, had just played a very nasty trick on her.
Aodh, son of Niall, former knight and one-time terror of Ireland and Great Britain, now known as Adam, king and creator of the GIM, took one look at the little spirit wavering before him, and his entire existence ground to a halt. Had he not lived centuries devoid of a single, pleasurable feeling, he would not have been able to hide his surprise. As it was, he barely remained standing. A rush of pure, exquisite emotion punched through him, battering him about like a cork on a monster wave.
Holy God. It almost hurt, this feeling. He allowed himself a small breath. He was feeling. After all these years. Heat and throbbing below his waist had him biting back a laugh. His cock was rising. He’d actually forgotten that particular sensation.
The female spirit was eyeing him as if he might soon bite. She was right to worry. He wanted to bite. But the glow that surrounded her form distracted him. He stared at it, disbelief, hope, and emotion writhing within him until he feared he might double over. That glow, soft gold mixed with sharp silver. The light of her soul. He did not have to glance down at his body to see the exact match of her soul’s light to his.
It was her. After all of these years. The endless searching. He’d found her. Why, then, did a strange, desperate rage fill him now?
“Your name?” he asked of her. Tension rode his frame hard.
The spirit narrowed her eyes, her gaze sliding up and down Adam’s form as though inspecting something distasteful. Perfect. Wonderful. They were off to a grand start.
Her voice, when she spoke, was clipped, with the flat tones of a Yank. “Eliza May.”
“Mmm.” It came out as a dubious rumble. Adam flicked his attention to Mary. “I’ll have a word with you, sweet Mary Chase —”
“And you are?” Eliza May cut in, her translucent hands upon her hips. Like a little fishwife. His little fishwife.
Again the anger, the helplessness. He didn’t want to need her. Didn’t like the urge that rode him hard and demanded he fall at her knees and weep with relief. He found himself snapping. “Not to be interrupted, treats.”
The lass’s pert chin lifted. “I’ve a right to know your full name, sir.”
Oh, but she would be interesting. Of that, he was certain. Adam put on a smile meant to chill and sauntered over to the hovering spirit. The temptation to touch her was too great. He traced the line of her cheek, and a shiver licked over his skin. She was warm, solid, to him at least. For at this moment, she lived in his realm. She didn’t even realize she’d passed into it and that what the lovely Miss Chase and Mrs. Ranulf saw of her was merely a spirit, barely clinging to their world. “My Lord and Master, My Irresistible Liege,” he murmured, while his cock throbbed against his trousers. “Pick whichever one you want. Then shut up. I am speaking, and not to you.”
He was being a bastard, unworthy of the knight he once was. And yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself where she was concerned. She’d turned him into a truculent, possessive child. In truth, if he didn’t have her spirit bound to his soon, he was likely to break down and cling to her skirts.
Unhinged, Adam turned his attention to Mary – he had things he needed to discuss with the lass – but he stopped as he spied Eliza’s body laying bloodied and battered upon the cobbles, her skirts still rucked up, a pool of blackening blood widening about her head like a macabre halo.
Had she been violated? A new sort of rage lit through him. So strong that the dark alleyway was illuminated with golden light, and he knew his eyes were glowing.
Eliza, seeing the direction of Adam’s gaze, swished to hover over her body as though she might hide it. “Don’t look at me, it.” Her teeth bared in a snarl. “At my body.”
Her pride was a feral and beautiful thing. My sweet dove, if I could, I’d tear those who hurt you into pieces.