CHAPTER FIFTEEN #2
NO HUMAN BEING SHOULD HAVE TO go through what Aidan was suffering, Brie thought.
She trembled, gazing at his tear-streaked profile.
He was quiet now, staring out of the window at the falling snow.
He hadn’t bothered to hide his emotions from her and she had felt all of his pain, grief and confusion. Brie desperately wanted to comfort him.
But after his brutal rejection that morning, she was afraid to go up to him. She had thought they were becoming close. She had been so wrong. But he needed her, more than ever, and she hadn’t stopped loving him. She couldn’t walk away.
“Aidan?” she whispered uncertainly. “Come sit down with me. We’ll have some wine and figure this out.”
He slowly looked at her. His gaze remained moist. “Ian is dead, Brianna,” he warned. “There’s naught to talk of.”
He was so beaten down, and it killed her. She started toward him, but he sent her such a chilling look that it stopped her in her tracks. “Dinna even think to offer me comfort. Not now.”
She tried to feel him, but he ruthlessly blocked her. “You were brutal this morning. A sane woman would have gone back home or to Iona. But I’m not leaving you to face Moray alone. I’m not leaving you to face your grief alone, either.”
She saw him tremble. “I dinna need ye, Brianna. Ye should have gone to Iona.”
“You need somebody in your corner,” she said tersely. “And I guess that somebody is me.”
A long moment passed before he spoke. “’Tis a long ride to Urquhart,” he said flatly. “But ’tis a short leap.”
Dismay overcame her. Somehow she kept her tone calm. “Please postpone it. I don’t think any good can come of your meeting Frasier now. You’re really distracted. We can focus on taking care of Ian instead.”
“Dinna use Ian to keep me away from Urquhart,” he rasped.
“I would never do that. But we summoned Ian in the séance, and we spoke with him. We need to summon him again. Aidan, you should be there.”
He cried out.
She had known it would be a painful suggestion. “There has to be a communication between you both.”
“Why willna ye leave me be?” he cried. “I have to go to Urquhart. I ken ye think I’ll hang there.”
“Don’t you care?” she cried.
“If I hang, then I will have vanquished Moray and Ian will surely rest in peace then!”
His grief surged, battering her, but she withstood it, overcome with alarm, MacNeil’s riddle echoing in her mind. “Oh, God. You will choose to die!”
She suddenly knew that if he went to Urquhart now, he would hang. And it was more than the way he had been speaking. The certainty was so strong it paralyzed her. Brie rushed to bar his way. “I can’t let you go.”
He halted. “Ye willna stop me,” he warned.
She blurted out, “I love you. Don’t go.”
Their gazes locked.
She touched his face and he flinched. “You hurt me so much, but it doesn’t matter. I will always love you. I’m here to save you, body and soul. Don’t go.”
“Stop,” he whispered. “Please stop.”
“Stop loving you? Impossible. Stop believing in your redemption? No.”
He breathed hard. “If I die, Brianna, all of Alba will rejoice, because that means Moray will be dead. I willna hang otherwise. Brianna, I can find peace in death…and Ian will be free.”
She cried out, “I will not rejoice! And don’t you dare even think you will find peace in death. Aidan, there is peace in salvation.”
He stared at her grimly, and she stared back, terrified. “How can ye love me as ye do? I have done nothing but fight ye.”
“You didn’t fight me last night. You didn’t fight me on the plain, when I was dying. You didn’t fight me in New York, when those boys were preparing to murder me.”
“I am sorry ye care so much,” he finally said. “Ye should care for a man like Seoc.”
She wiped her tears then caught his rigid shoulders. “We don’t get to choose love, Aidan. Just like we don’t get to choose Fate. MacNeil saw me coming for you. I know you won’t believe it, but I’m your Fate.”
His eyes widened.
She felt more tears fall. He hadn’t moved. She stood on tiptoe and brushed her mouth over his.
He remained still.
What was she doing, throwing herself at him? She was a dud. She was shy, a techno geek, and no one had ever wanted her. Aidan didn’t want her, either.
He had said so.
He had made it very clear that it had been a one-night stand.
Her love wasn’t going to delay him or dissuade him. MacNeil was wrong. Aidan was going to hang, and there wasn’t going to be any redemption.
Brie broke the one-sided kiss, a product of her hopelessly one-sided love, and sank to stand flat-footed. She smiled sadly at him. “If you have to go, take me with you.”
He shook his head and reached out, his hand trembling. With his thumb, he wiped her tears and dropped the shield on his emotions.
Brie went still, her heart thundering, amazed.
“I want ye very much, Brianna Rose. I always have,” he said harshly. “I dinna ken the word ‘dud,’ but I dinna like it very much.”
Her eyes widened. “But you said…”
“I lied,” he said thickly. “I lied to make ye go away, but yer so stubborn.”
Their gazes locked.
He almost smiled, and then he crushed her in his arms, his mouth claiming hers.
In his hard embrace, Brie cried out, kissing him back frantically. He wanted her!
And she felt everything from him then, not just the hot desire. She felt the grief, the despair, the hope and something else, something so strong and bright, so profound and deep, so elemental it almost felt like love.
She knew she was wrong—it was something else. It had to be something else.
He groaned, whirling her toward the bed, his manhood raging against her jeans, their lips locked.
Brie let him push her onto her back. He lifted her sweatshirt as she fumbled with his belt.
He broke their kiss to drag her sweatshirt over her head.
She undid the huge belt and let belt and swords fall to the floor, the weapons clattering loudly.
Their eyes collided. He ripped off her T-shirt and she tugged on the leine, lifting it.
He went very still.
His erection appeared between them. Breathing hard, she slid her fingers over his huge, pulsing length.
“Brianna,” he said roughly.
She held him so tightly he surged in her hand. His gaze was smoldering and Brie’s heart exploded with desire, urgency and love.
He put his knee between her jeans-clad thighs and smiled at her.
There was so much warmth and promise in that smile that Brie simply stared back at him, even more stunned.
And then she exulted. This man cared about her.
She saw it in his shimmering blue eyes, and she could not be mistaken.
Somehow, she wet her lips and whispered, “Aidan.” She needed him now. She had never needed him more.
“Aye, Brianna,” he murmured.
His other knee came down between her thighs and he reached for her jeans, shrugged them down her legs and she kicked them away. Then he paused to rip off his leine and fling it aside. He wore only the gold-capped wolf’s fang on the thin chain.
Brie reached up to touch it. He became still, except for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Her fingers grazed the fang, then slid over his chest. She was ready for pure, hot sex now, and so was he.
She was spinning in the cyclone of his desire, and the roar of love made the anticipation blinding.
Aidan went still, gazing down at her. “I have a concern fer ye,” he said roughly.
Brie went still.
A flush appeared on his high cheekbones. “A great concern,” he added thickly.
Brie looped her arms around his neck. “I love you, too,” she said, smiling.
He took her mouth again.
brIE AWOKE SLOWLY. She was snug and cozy beneath heavy bedcovers.
The bedchamber was bright with the light of a new, sunny morning, and she was in a man’s embrace.
Suddenly Brie was fully awake, blinking against the bright sunlight flooding the room, recalling the time spent in Aidan’s arms. She was still in his arms. She shifted to look up at him. He lay deeply asleep beside her.
Brie went still, not wanting to awaken him. He had spent an afternoon and evening making love to her. She was certain. If he dared to deny it, she wouldn’t listen. A wonderful joy crept over her.
There was nothing evil about this man. There had never been anything evil about him. He had been angry and grief-stricken and he had lost his way. But he was finding it now.
He looked like a teenage-boy angel, no more than twenty or so, his face soft and unlined, carefree.
His thick black lashes fanned out against his beautiful face.
His mouth was soft and slightly curved, as if he’d fallen asleep smiling.
She loved him so much it hurt. She was not looking at a half demon.
She was looking at her guardian angel, and by God, he would be the protector of all Innocence soon.
That was his Fate. Not hanging. Not evil.
He had told her once that he hadn’t slept since Ian’s murder, sixty-six years ago, but he was sleeping now.
Of course he was. They’d made love for a long, long time.
There had been smiles and conversation, but only at first, because when he wanted to get physical, it was very physical.
Her entire body flushed as she thought about his otherworldly stamina and the very unnatural, unbelievably endless climaxes.
She’d kept finding him watching her so intently that it was wonderful and unnerving at once.
He had wanted to give pleasure, not take it.
Brie smiled, shivering deliciously.
She was a woman of passion, but it was reserved for one man. She would never be the woman her mother had been. She wondered how she could ever have thought it even remotely possible.
He stirred.
Brie didn’t want to awaken him. She wanted him to get his first solid night’s sleep in nearly seven decades.
She recalled the summons to Urquhart and prayed he would awaken smiling and content.
She prayed her love had healed him. If it had, he wasn’t going.
Or if he did go, he wouldn’t allow himself to be hanged.