Page 25 of Druid Cursed

CHAPTER

Maggie wasn’t sure what to think when Kellen went completely still. Her plea must have stunned him. Hell, she’d stunned herself. Two minutes ago, kissing him had topped her list of events to avoid. Now, she needed it more than air.

“ Leannán ,” he murmured. She didn’t know what the word meant, but by the way he said it, she could guess it was some kind of term of endearment. He stroked her cheekbone with the backs of his knuckles, brutally gentle. “If you want a kiss, you have but to ask.” He brushed his lips over hers.

She sucked in a breath at the soft contact, and a growl rumbled in his chest, low and needy. His hold tightened, crushing her against every ridge and angle of his glorious body. With slow, painstaking care, his mouth slid satin-smooth along hers, as if he memorized every curve and line of her lips.

Her pulse shot into overdrive, and tiny shivers sang through every nerve. She fisted his shirt. Never had anyone kissed her like this—worshipful, exquisitely tender with a promise of simmering heat. The sensations swamping her transcended even her imagination. How could a kiss brand her very soul?

Kellen angled his head, deepening the kiss, and all sweetness drowned beneath a wave of pure, savage need.

The yearning of it caught her off guard, and Maggie broke free with a gasp.

His heart thumped beneath her hands, and their ragged breaths mingled.

Shadows softened his features, but his eyes gleamed, bright and penetrating.

In those few, bare, scorching seconds, she’d forgotten about a failed marriage where she’d never been enough.

She’d forgotten to worry about losing her home, forgotten the bleak future waiting for her if she didn’t win the money.

While he’d kissed her, for the first time in years, she’d felt… seen. Accepted. Cherished.

Who moved first, she wasn’t sure, didn’t care. Their lips met again, and a dozen sensations consumed her, flaming her blood and pounding at every pulse point. Kellen shuddered. He nibbled her bottom lip, once, twice, before sliding his tongue against hers. With a guttural groan, he devoured her.

She went completely liquid in his arms. He tasted of whiskey and wildness, and she couldn’t get enough.

Maggie chained her arms around his neck and squirmed, needing to get closer.

Maybe the hunger from him—and rising in her—should have scared her, but she could only moan as he slipped his fingers beneath her sweater and ignited trails of sparks on her skin.

The hard length of his arousal pressed into her belly, and heat pooled low, deep and aching.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, the silken strands a perfect length to hold on to for dear life.

Kellen kept kissing her, and she had the strangest impression that she slowly woke up beneath his touch, that the life before him had been but a dream, fragmented and fuzzy.

This wasn’t just a kiss. This went beyond the new and startling sensations he kindled.

His kiss was revival, and she wanted it to go on forever.

Kellen jerked back, panting. “Maggie.” His voice rasped against her ear. “We must stop.”

“Why?” She dragged her fingertips down his chest, over the bump of his abs beneath his shirt.

“For a multitude of reasons.” He snared her wrist. “It has been so long since—” The bob of his throat brushed her cheek as he swallowed. “I fear, at this moment, my control threatens to break. You are too tempting, leannán .”

She grinned. That she could make the man formed of her darkest fantasies lose control was a powerful, freeing realization.

And luckily, she had two hands. She slid her fingers down his side and hooked them beneath his belt.

His heat sank into her skin through his shirt.

His heady scent dazzled her. He was everything she needed. Right. Now.

“Maggie.” He groaned her name, half plea, half curse. Capturing her other hand, he stared at her, chest heaving as though he fought not to have his way with her right there on the rug among the shelves of books.

She was totally okay with that.

Between heartbeats, he whirled and pressed her back against the wall.

He took her mouth again, kissed her like he wanted to lose himself in her, like she alone was his anchor to the world.

Her head spun as if he drugged her with his tongue.

Something dangerously close to joy ribboned around her heart. So much emotion so fast—

Footsteps echoed, drawing closer.

They both froze, as if caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Kellen’s gaze narrowed. She looked around him, through the spaces between books and shelves.

Cara drifted near, the lantern in her hand. “Maggie?”

Shit. If Cara found her lurking in the shadows with Kellen, she’d never hear the end of it. Heat crept up her neck. She eased free of his hold and inched forward, putting space between them. That didn’t prevent his warmth from stroking her back or soften the lingering tension strung between them.

Cara strolled closer, dragging her finger along book spines. If she’d already found the book to help her grandmother, if Maggie didn’t respond, she might just call it a night.

Leaving Maggie alone with Kellen in the shadows again.

Desire warred with rationality. As much as she wanted him—denying that any longer would be a complete lie—she wasn’t sure she could separate her emotions from physical desire, wasn’t sure she wanted to.

She liked Kellen, and he’d made it very clear that after this week, whatever relationship they had would be over.

The reminder cooled her blood. She knew only what he’d told her, all of which could be truth, lies, or somewhere in between.

But none of it mattered because in less than a week, she’d be leaving Ireland, and the odds of seeing Kellen again were zilch.

She didn’t need to be a temp for another man, no matter how tempting the man.

She certainly didn’t need any fallout of emotions that would be on her end only.

Maggie squared her shoulders, regaining control.

She opened her mouth to call out to Cara.

Then Kellen traced the slope of her shoulder with one long finger, as if to assure her he hadn’t forgotten her.

All her rationality cracked at the seams, and the fire she thought she’d doused blazed anew.

She bit her lip and pressed her thighs together.

Maybe he really was a druid with a penchant for awakening libidos and sexual allure.

Never in her life had a simple touch threatened to completely unravel her.

Cara stopped at where Sir Gawain and the Green Knight lay and held her lantern over it.

She set the lantern on the table and opened the cover.

Apparently, her earlier disinterest had been an act.

Whatever Wendy had sprinkled on the book stirred at Cara’s contact, like dust in sunlight, golden and sparkling.

Kellen’s lazy touch on Maggie’s shoulder stilled as the herbal scent again threaded the air, more potent.

The aroma was too sweet, cloying, as if on the verge of rotting.

Cara’s eyes rolled up in her head…and she collapsed.

Maggie gasped. “Cara!”

Kellen pushed past her and somehow caught Cara before she hit the floor, like the dark hero in a fairy tale rescuing a damsel in distress.

“What’s wrong with her?” Maggie slipped around the bookshelf into the light as Kellen adjusted Cara in his arms.

“Sorcha,” he hissed, his scowl fierce. He managed to shut the book while still holding Cara. With the pages closed, the aroma from the scattered herbs faded. “I must take her to Caedmon. He will know what to do.”

“Of course.” Her stomach twisted. Maybe if she hadn’t been a coward hiding in the shadows with Kellen, if she’d spoken up, Cara would be okay now. She was the worst new friend ever.

As Kellen picked up the tome and tucked it beneath his arm, a small, black object fell out and thumped softly on the rug.

A key.

No way.

Three items to find before the new moon

A ring with a secret

A boy’s hidden key

A rock touched by magic

Defeat my enemy to set me free

Two items down, one to go. Maggie crouched and lifted the key into the candlelight.

It was heavier than she expected and looked exactly like the key in the snake illustration, minus any gleaming spiderwebs.

Maybe Wendy had put a different sort of herb on that page to make her hallucinate, because there was no possible, scientific explanation for a metal key springing from time-worn ink on an aged vellum sheet.

She met Kellen’s gaze. “This will sound like a weird coincidence, but this same key is part of the illustration on the second page in that book.”

“Interesting, indeed. May I?” He wriggled his fingers for the key. “I vow to safekeep it for you with the poison ring.”

Maggie placed the key in his grip. She took the candle from the table and forged silently ahead to open the library door for Kellen and his cargo. Before she grabbed the handle, Caedmon opened the door and paused, his eyes widening.

“Good evening, Miss O’Malley.” His gaze flicked to Kellen and then Cara in his arms. “I got your note, brother. Apologies for the tardiness. What did I miss?”

“Note?” The growl in Kellen’s voice made the word rumble like a threat.

“Aye, the one you left in my study.” Caedmon grimaced and glanced at Maggie, an indication he wouldn’t be discussing any misunderstanding with her there.

Cara moaned, even her unconscious noises lovely and sophisticated, and her eyes fluttered open briefly, fixed on Kellen’s face. She draped her arms around his neck and murmured an incoherent word before going limp again.

“She collapsed,” Kellen said, his jaw tight. “Medical attention may be required.”

“Certainly. Bring her to my study.” Caedmon strode away.

Kellen met Maggie’s gaze. “We must speak of certain matters.” His voice softened, and maybe it was her imagination, but heat seemed to spark in his eyes, shooting tingles of electricity through her nerves. “Will you break your fast with me on the morrow?”

If he hadn’t described eating cereal in such an archaic way or used the word “morrow,” maybe she could have denied him.

When it came to Kellen, she was a wimp, but that didn’t mean she had to let him know.

She shot Caedmon’s retreating back an accusing look.

“I have a competition ritual to attend to at the unfortunate hour of dawn.”

Kellen grimaced. “After, then.”

She aimed for casual with a shrug. “Sure. See you later.”

His answering half smile before he turned and strode away made her heart thump so hard it nearly flatlined.

She was so cooked, and Kellen was the master chef.

“May I escort you back to your room, Miss O’Malley?”

At Jeeves’s voice behind her, she jumped and spun to face him. “You really need to stop doing that,” she said.

He waited, hands clasped behind his back, as if he’d been there all along. She was 100 percent sure the hallway behind her had been empty two seconds ago.

“Are you a druid, too, or just some sort of magician?”

“I am but a simple butler, my lady.” He bowed and gestured down the hall, in the direction of the stairs leading to her room. She could have sworn a glint of amusement shone in his eyes, but his expression remained set in polite indifference.

“Simple, my left butt cheek,” she muttered, following him.

Back in her room, exhausted and lying in bed, Maggie stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

Jeeves had placed a new deadbolt on the door that would require Wendy to knock if she wanted in, a precautionary measure that she couldn’t help but appreciate after the library events.

Not that she was scared of Wendy, but something she’d put in the book had taken Cara out. Now she had two friends to worry about.

An icy marble sank in her stomach, hard and heavy.

And another ritual to face at dawn.