He looked fine clothed, but naked he was magnificent. Hard, muscled, just a little bit hairy. He did not remove the stone at his neck or the leather band on his wrist, but she supposed that was hardly necessary.
As he came toward her, moonlight lit his chest and she saw the jagged, ugly scar there, much too close to his heart. It hurt her to know that he had been hurt; she was saddened to know that he’d suffered such pain. She’d have to ask him about that scar later. At the moment she had more important things on her mind, and she did not want to be distracted by pains of the past.
Bodies entangled as if they had been made for each other, he kissed her again. And again. He kissed her mouth, her throat, her breasts. Echo spread her thighs to cradle him there. Almost touching. Almost. She ached to have him inside her; she didn’t want to wait another second. If he made her wait she was going to scream.
Then he was there, guiding himself into her, moving gently. Too gently. She’d waited for this for a long time. Forever. This was no time for trepidation, no time for second thoughts. She placed her mouth close to his ear, kissed the warm skin just beneath and then whispered, “More. Now.”
He groaned and did as she asked, pushing deep, thrusting hard and fast until she shattered. She might be embarrassed about coming so fast if he hadn’t been right behind her.
Next time would be slower. Next time they would savor their coming together. And yes, she knew without doubt that there would be a next time.
Now and then he called her love. She wanted to believe there was a kind of love between them. Temporary, unexpected, just two unattached people who understood each other finding and enjoying each other for a while. Could she call that love? Why not?
“That was amazing,” she said. Not at all what she’d had in mind when she’d stormed across the street to confront him, but definitely amazing. She had forgotten everything while they’d made love. All her worries, all her questions...gone. Temporarily. Unpleasant thoughts had already begun to creep back into her head.
Duncan was rumored to be very powerful. He certainly had more abilities than she knew about. Was this a simple distraction? No, not simple, not simple at all, but still a distraction.
“Did you do something to me?”
“I believe I did,” he said, his voice light. “If you’ve already forgotten, then I didn’t do it very well.”
“No, Duncan. I’m serious. Was there anything...unnatural...?”
He kissed her to silence her question, then pulled away slightly and said, “No magic was involved, at least not on my end of things. And if you’re going to share my bed, perhaps you should call me Rye.”
“Can’t,” she said with a sigh.
“Why not?”
“Rye is a bread. Come to think of it, Duncan is a doughnut. I really can’t handle all those carbs.” She pressed her body to his. Already she wanted him again. It was going to be a long night. “Can I call you Ryder?” It was the name she’d known him as before they’d met, a name no one else called him. At least, not that she’d ever heard.
“You can call me anything you’d like, love.”
Love, again. She knew this wasn’t the kind of love she was looking for. A forever, ordinary, romantic kind of love. But for tonight, it would do. It would more than do.
* * *
The Raintree woman should’ve left the pub long ago, should’ve returned to her room at the boardinghouse. Alone. Instead, she remained in the pub. More likely above stairs with Rye.
It was so unfair. Why had he never looked at her that way? What did Echo have that she did not? She wasn’t prettier, certainly wasn’t sexier.
More powerful? Yes. For now.
Invulnerable?
No.
She hated her instructions to wait. Hated them! If she made Echo’s death look like an accident, her body would be shipped home and no Raintree would ever come to Cloughban again. By the time they got suspicious and thought to do so it would be too late. Far too late.
Her last two calls to her employer—not the town council who paid her to keep up their pathetic library but the man who’d hired her to be a part of the first wave of his long-planned invasion—had gone unanswered. He should’ve at the very least seen that she’d called and call her back. Maybe he was on his way. Maybe he was already here, somewhere.
She knew he was close, and had been for a while. A couple of hours away, at most, and perhaps not even that far. Waiting had been difficult for him, but he’d insisted that everything be just right, including the time of year, the phase of the moon and—most important—the age of the girl. At the moment, she was prime.
Had he seen that a Raintree would arrive just as his plan was coming together? Again, maybe. He wasn’t as powerful as he thought himself to be, but he planned to be much stronger very soon. She wasn’t sure he’d get that chance. If she had her way he would not, but for now... for now she would continue to play the obedient soldier.
Maisy imagined herself comforting Rye when Echo was dead. She imagined herself taking her place in his bed, making him do whatever she commanded.
Most of all, she