Chapter Seven
Morgan still wanted him, despite all that Rowan represented.
He had not been born into privilege. His father was a member of the nameless, faceless outcast contingent who had dared to rebel against the establishment, which meant that his sons were sold into servitude.
Rowan and his brother had had to fight for respect and acceptance.
Not only did they succeed, but they also excelled.
And through it all, Rowan never lost his sense of fairness and decency.
He helped those less fortunate and never lost sight of how far he had come.
How could she not fall in love with a man like Rowan?
She knew when she had met him those long years ago that he was the man she wanted as the father of her child.
But she never thought she would see him again.
A massive tent was made ready for them. Perfumed candles illuminated the interior.
Rose petals formed a path to the four-poster bed piled high with satin and silk pillows in red and deep purple.
Nutmeg, cinnamon and lavender perfumed the air.
Dark chocolate, red wine, succulent fruit, and oysters were spread over a cloth-draped table.
Rowan released her to the ground, placing a tender kiss on her head. She leaned against him, using his warmth to chase away the self-doubts racing through her. Could she do what was required?
Each woman planned to make sure all the male Wizards on the island were in a spell-induced sleep.
If they succeeded, they would be able to spirit the young Wizards to safety.
The children were not safe if they were on the island.
But she and her sister Wizards had never tried something of this magnitude. It was a daunting task.
Rowan drew her against him, his strong arms wrapped around her waist as he leaned down, placing hot kisses on her neck and shoulders. She sighed and tilted her head to the side, letting the warm shivers race through her, bringing her body back to life. She’d underestimated her feelings for him.
When he’d first touched her, the overpowering desire for him caught her off guard.
She knew that, when he awoke from the enchanted sleep, he would be furious with her.
He would feel betrayed. She knew all too well the depth of that type of betrayal—that loss of trust. But she was not here to rekindle love.
She was here for a higher purpose. The thought of the Wizardlings and apprentice Wizards kept her strong.
Their lives depended on her and her sister Wizards remaining resolute.
She turned in Rowan’s arms and rested against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart, the heat of his body, the deep sadness that held him in its grip.
So concerned by anger and loss over losing her child, she’d never guessed Rowan still fought his own demons.
He had never stopped grieving for his family and felt guilty over not being able to save them.
There were words she wanted to say, comforting, healing, loving words.
Instinctively she knew he was not ready to hear them.
This was one of the times that could break a female Wizard’s heart.
Female Wizards could sense the true nature of those they mated with, their regrets, their hopes.
Morgan felt his pain, his great emptiness.
For the duration of the festival male and female Wizards could chase away the darkening while in each other’s arms, but the feelings would not last. Their time together would pass too quickly, and their fears would return.
The oasis that was Bealtaine was the real allure.
A haven where dreams came true, fantasies were realized, and you could pretend love lasted forever.
Time was an illusion, and love the only reality, or so her mother had promised. Seven days was supposed to kindle a love that would last a lifetime. It rarely did.
She was one of the lucky few. The realization was bittersweet.
Morgan rose on her tiptoes, pressing her cool lips against his warm mouth.
He leaned into the kiss, his arms around her, lifting her until her feet left the ground.
His strength and power took her breath away.
His intensity surrounded her in waves of shimmering heat.
She’d forgotten how strong he was, how loving, how warm.
Mating with a Fire Wizard was like venturing too close to an active volcano.
The danger was exhilarating.
Not all female Wizards could endure the unrestrained raw energy of a Fire Wizard when he made love. They were passionate, and attentive lovers. While all women wanted to be with them, few had the power to survive the experience.
His kiss deepened, searing through her, awakening passion and something more dangerous. Memories.
He pulled away slightly, his breath hot on her face. “Why me?”
This man, this Fire Wizard, was the most powerful and courageous man she’d ever known. Yet he thought he was not worthy of love.
The love she had hoped to deny poured from her voice. “How could I not choose you?”
“You give me great honor. Your beauty blinds me, and your fragrance is intoxicating. You have seduced me, body, and soul.” He smiled, slowly at first, and then the smile spread across his features until it reached his eyes.
His expression reflected the boy in the man.
It warmed her with its radiant glow. He picked her up in his arms again and carried her to bed. “You are as light as a Highland mist.”
She laughed at the playfulness in his voice, feeling the darkness around him lift, but the joy melted away like the Highland mist he referenced.
Her intent had been to make sure he was in that spell-induced sleep while the young Wizards were safely spirited away.
But to accomplish such a goal she must remain strong and remember that this man was her enemy. He stood between success and failure.
She forced laughter into her voice. “It is not that I am so small”—she smiled as he laid her down on the silken sheets—“but that you are so large and strong.”
His eyes glinted with humor and desire. “Aye, very large indeed.” For the first time his voice was laced with a heavy Scottish brogue. She rejoiced. It was part of his heritage and a sign he was letting down his guard.
She allowed her sheer garment to slip from her shoulders, exposing the mounds of her breasts. “Humor from a Fire Wizard. Most rare.”
His voice lowered, rich and lyrical. His eyes reflected the banked heat of his passion. “Ye are the cause, lass. I’m enchanted and under your spell.”
“And I yours,” she whispered against his lips as he leaned toward her.
Rowan’s hand rested on her stomach, the warmth igniting her. She arched toward his touch. Desire erupted within her. She had chosen him because she knew she had the best chance of keeping him under a spell.
That was not entirely true. She chose him because she wanted him.
Her plan was flawed from the beginning. It was she who was in danger of becoming enchanted, of losing her way and her heart.
The longer they spent together the higher the risk.
It was fortunate they would only have this one night.
She faced the reality that she still loved him, still wanted him, and that changed everything.
Morgan did not fool herself. He did not love her.
Male Wizards were incapable of the emotion.
The ability to care for another living being for more than a few days was bred out of them.
Their only long-term loyalty was to the Talons and the Grey Council.
It was the enchantment and spells that caused the tender kisses, the caresses, and the heated look in their eyes.
But what if she were wrong and this inability to care was only a myth perpetuated by the Talons and the Grey Council? She pushed away the doubts. To hope was foolish…and deadly.
He did not love her. She repeated that message in her thoughts. More reason to leave him while her heart was still in one piece.
More was at risk tonight than her growing awareness of her true feelings for Rowan. To save the lives of her sisters and the Wizardlings she must be strong. She refocused, banishing the dark feelings threatening to overwhelm her.
Morgan pressed her lips against his, moving her tongue over the contours of his mouth.
He groaned and deepened the kiss, cupping her breast with his hand, sending hot currents of desire rushing through her.
She was swept away on waves of pulsating heat so intense she feared she would burst into flame. She held on, wanting more.
She felt him pull away, but it was only to gaze at her with a smile on his lips. His hot breath, a Fire Wizard’s breath, caressed her skin, seduced her senses, igniting her passions. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Morgan smiled and traced her fingers over his mouth, aching for the moment when she could touch all of him. “It is the glamour. The spells.”
“’Tis not so. I see you clearly.”
Her hand trembled as fear seeped, threatening the euphoria. “Not possible.” A part of her hoped what he said was true. Hoped that the passionate way he looked at her was real. “Do you know my name?”
“Goddess.”
She almost cried in relief…or was it regret?
He kissed her tenderly. “I wish I knew your name.”
“Does it really matter?”
“I want it too.”
Morgan knew her heart would break from wanting him. He was different than before, she knew, as the fire between them became more intense, more explosive. If he burned through the spells and recognized her, the plan would fail. She had one chance to rescue those in her charge.
She wove a silent spell in the air, sighing when she felt a shift in Rowan’s gaze.
His voice filled with passion again as he winked playfully. “I have achieved the degree of Master of Pleasuring a Woman.”
She welcomed the lighthearted mood. She had been dangerously close to telling him her name.