Love Potions (7 page)

Leaning forward in confidence, he whispered, “It isn’t, is it?”

“No, it’s not.” Lydia giggled at his concerned look.

“I never did care for French cuisine.” He relaxed, leaning back in his chair. “Ya have a pretty smile, lassie. I’m glad to see ya have finally decided to wear it for me.”

Her giggling stopped. “Listen, I feel we should talk about the other day. I—”

“A gentleman doesn’t expect a lady to talk about such things, unless of course ya want to?” He glanced around. “Though perhaps this is not the most opportune time.”

Hell, no! I’d rather saw off my left arm than have the, “I’m sorry I almost gave you a blowjob like a whore” conversation.

Lydia merely shook her head in denial. By the time she got the apology out anyway, she’d probably be under the table trying to give him another one. She clamped her thighs shut. It didn’t help calm the raging fire Erik lit in her sex with just his nearness.

“Ya never answered. Was your grandma a witch?”

Lydia thought about lying, but found herself saying, “Yes.”

Wow. Did that actually come out of her mouth? It had to be the first time she actually admitted it out loud—well, to anyone who wasn’t Charlotte. What was it about Erik that made her want to be honest, to bare all—including his gorgeous body—and act on instinct?

She watched his reaction, surprised when he still didn’t look fazed by her words. “That doesn’t shock you?”

“Why should it?” Erik asked. “Do ya practice?”

“No,” Lydia shook her head. “I know some herbs have healing properties or can be used as aromatherapy, but my grandmother took it all a step further. She believed in the old magick and ghosts and… Well, I’ve never did see anything that made me believe in actual magick. Now, magic tricks and illusions, yes, I believe those are possible on a Las Vegas stage, but true power?”

“And seeing is believing?”

“Yeah, it helps.” Lydia laughed. “I’m one of those people who, when everyone else is looking at the stage, I watch the dark side of the theater to see the magician running along the aisle for his magic trick’s grand reveal.”

Alana came back carrying two plates full of fettuccine alfredo topped with parmesan and pine nuts. Lydia hummed softly in appreciation. The portions were way too big, but that had never stopped her from trying to finish her plate. Setting a basket of garlic bread in between them, the chef left them alone.

“And what would ya do if ya saw true power?” Erik picked up his fork.

“If I saw real magick?” Lydia shrugged. “I’d like to think I’d be brave, but the truth is I’d probably run screaming for the hills.”

…

Night caressed the hillside, pressing into the little Victorian house nestled in its fold. Within the shadows, the air stirred differently as if pulling away from the threat of blue moonlight. They had waited for this moment, so long trapped in wraithlike form, mere lingering shadows of the powerful beings they so desperately wanted to be again. The shadow creatures had been waiting for the signs that it was time, able to read the age-old hints buried in the flow of the wind, divined in the falling leaves. It had only been a matter of time before the warlocks would be drawn to the great source of natural power. They were only two now, not the legion of millennia past. They had been conserving their powers, storing them for the energy it would take to create the army they needed.

Nothing could get past the barrier encircling the Victorian home. The spell was airtight, woven perfectly around each piece of siding, each pane of glass, each block of foundation. It didn’t stop the shadow creatures from searching, poking and prodding every opening. For as all shadows knew, no spell was faultless, no enchantment lasted forever and no
inthrall
ever lived through what they had planned.

Chapter Five

Lydia wasn’t sure how she did it, but she managed to make it through dinner without jumping over the table and attacking Erik with very indecent kisses. When she stopped fantasizing long enough to listen to him and have a real conversation, she found him exceedingly funny and remarkably charming. He told stories of his ancestors as if he’d actually lived beside them. Since most of them shared his name and the names of his brothers, it was easy to assume he grew up hearing the tales through oral storytelling until they became a very real part of his heritage. But when he talked of his living family, she could tell he held back.

“So you were saying, Euann the Ugly, Iain the Woman, and Niall the Stench fought over the same woman?” Lydia prompted, glancing across to the driver’s seat only to pry her eyes away and stare forward. As long as she kept him talking she wouldn’t have to be inside her own head, hearing her brain’s naughty suggestions.

Erik smirked, chuckling. “Aye, but the beautiful Lady Julia was an English lassie and would take no notice of the lowly MacGregors. She hated the western highlands near Mount Sail Garbh where her father forced her to journey. However, her ill temper did not stop the three brothers from trying.”

“So they fell in love with her beauty?” Lydia asked, imagining three very handsome, medieval versions of Erik running around the moors and mountains of Scotland in nothing but kilts. Julia must have been an amazing woman to capture the notice of men like that. Then, realizing she sat next to the real life Erik, she blushed. Lydia hardly considered herself amazing. However did she get his notice? Her blush deepened.

Oh, yeah, let’s not think about that.

Again looking across to the driver’s seat, she bit her lip and tried to adjust her hips without drawing attention to her aroused state. Outside the car, the slow drift of city buildings passed by, towering over the empty sidewalks. Yellow streetlights mingled with blue moonlight, casting a mesmerizing light over Erik’s features.

“Not exactly. After her first rejection it became more of a wager.” He laughed harder, as if able to picture what happened next. Again, if Lydia didn’t know better, she would have thought he lived it. “None of the three brothers would give up wooing the English lady, until their antics escalated to the point they had to be punished by Lady Julia’s father for embarrassing her. Iain tried to sing her a love ballad in the main hall of her home.”

“That’s romantic,” Lydia inserted.

“The only song he knew wasn’t about romantic love. It had more to do with the lady lifting her skirts about her head. As a punishment, he had to wear a lady’s dress for a week.” Erik laughed harder. “Niall went hunting to show her his prowess, but the unusually hot weather and her untimely absence caused the meat to rot before she saw it. So, he ordered the fur prepared instead, but the meat had rotted so badly that the fur reeked. He was forced to wear the thing as a robe for a sennight without washing it.”

“And Euann the Ugly?”

“His mere presumption that she could look at him for more than a glance was offense enough to warrant being punished.” Erik grinned. “But they took pity, believing his face was penance enough.”

Lydia laughed, his good mood infectious. His sexy accent only added to what he said until every fiber of her being jumped with giddy anticipation and hope. Her gaze traveled leisurely over him as he concentrated on the road, turning up the hill toward her house.

Let’s face it, everything about him is damned sexy.

Without even looking at her, he said, “Ya know,
leannáin,
ya look at me like that for much longer, and I’m bound to get ideas.”

Lydia blushed, instantly drawing her gaze away. As the streetlights faded, left behind in town, the moon shone brightly over the car, penetrating Erik’s window like a celestial spotlight. No matter how she tried, her eyes kept straying to the hem of his kilt. Her hand flexed, the fingers begging to discover if what he’d said about being naked beneath the plaid were true. She trembled with the knowledge of their privacy. No one else would be on the hill. They were completely alone.

In the isolation of night, she couldn’t help but think that maybe being intimate with Erik wasn’t such a bad thing. He was nice, funny, charismatic and polite. Just entertaining the idea of sex made the moisture dampening her thighs all the worse. What was it about this man that caused her body to become desperate with need?

Deep breaths, Lyd,
she ordered herself.
Keep your head. Say goodnight and go into the house alone until you can rationalize what’s happening.

Stopping the car in front of her house, Erik shut off the engine. Lydia smiled, her heart fluttering nervously in her chest. Every part of her aching body wanted to invite him up to her bedroom. Only her brain, and the staunch promise she’d made herself not to act like a whore, kept her from doing it.

“Thank you, I had a nice time.” Lydia reached for the car door, ready to run if she had to. She was almost home free. If she could just get inside her door, she’d keep her dignity intact. His hand on her elbow stopped her. Her breath caught, feeling that light touch all the way to her toes.

Don’t look into his eyes. You won’t get lost if you don’t look.

“You’d not be wanting company, would ya?” When she turned around, he winked audaciously. Damn, she looked. The sinfully dark eyes glistened with moonlight. How she wasn’t sure, as his face had become shadowed by the long length of his black hair. Her heartbeat quickened. The low honeyed tone that had first stopped her on the street now washed seductively over her entire being. “Or we could go up to MacGregor Estate.”

It was tempting. Lydia loved the view from the top of the hill at night. From the mansion grounds, lights from town glittered over the valley like stars. Her house was a little too close to get the same effect.

Who was she kidding? If she said yes it wouldn’t be because of the view.

“No, it’s late.” Lydia glanced at the stereo’s clock in the opened glove box and again made a move to reach for the door. How she managed to grip the metal handle she’d never know.

“Och, I can take care of that.” Erik reached for the clock and reset the time so it looked like it was three hours earlier. His strong arm brushed the tip of her breast, and she wondered if it was on purpose. She squirmed in her seat as the nipple hardened beneath her gown. Grinning, he said, “There, magic, now it’s early.”

Lydia dropped her hand to her lap and laughed. The subtle smell of his cologne wafted over her, causing her to breathe deeply. The man really was persistent. It was actually kind of cute, the way he blatantly tried to get her to stay the night with him. When he sat up, he didn’t pull all the way back into his own seat. Heat radiated from his body into her, melting away all willpower.

She didn’t want the date to be over quite yet. What she wanted was to kiss him. What she should do was try and preserve some of her self-respect, showing him she could actually control herself around him. Feeling the ache in her sex that had been there since their first meeting, she wasn’t so sure that was possible. What if she couldn’t control herself? What if a force greater than the both of them pulled them together?

“We both know what’s happening here,” Erik said, his voice dipping to an almost low growl. He pulled back, sighing.

“We do?” Lydia couldn’t stop herself. She leaned over the seat, closer to him, reversing their positions. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she looked down to his lips. Already she could taste his kiss on her mouth, almost feel it. She’d imagined it enough over the last several nights.

“Aye, we do.” Erik moved closer once more, stopping when he was only a hairsbreadth away. She felt his breath hitting her mouth, a teasingly light caress that made every thought she had focus on his lips. “I don’t know why you’re fighting the energy between us,
leannáin
.”

Lydia’s breath caught. She couldn’t move. His lips drew closer, brushing lightly along her mouth as he continued. Her nerves reached out for his touch, and her mind focused on every breath, every sound.

“Aye, it’s potent, hot, primitive. Since that first moment, I’ve wanted ya. My body’s burned to possess ya, to finish what was started between us in the garden.”

“No—” she began to protest, not liking the embarrassing reminder of her wantonness.

“Oh, aye, how can ya deny it, Lydia?” His strong, warm fingers hovered near her cheek, as whispering of a caress as his lips were. “I can feel your sexual energy calling to me right now. It has been all night. I know ya tried to cool it all evening by parting your thighs beneath the table, but it didn’t work, did it? All it did was make your scent all the more potent to me until all I could think about was crawling beneath the table and sampling the sweet taste of your body.”

“Erik, I…”

“I’ve accepted it, your body has accepted it, why won’t your brain? Just look how hard your nipples are and I haven’t even touched them. I’ll bet your panties are soaked as well, so wet from the thoughts you’ve been having of me buried there.”

He was right. Her nipples were hard. She didn’t have to look down to see it. They’d been erect nearly all night.

Everything about this man was strange. Sure, thoughts could be arousing, but to this extent? To the point that her body was always in a constant state of lust?

Emotions like these didn’t happen to regular, everyday people. They couldn’t or else the entire world would be fornicating all the time. It didn’t make any sense. Lydia couldn’t stop the nagging idea that something was definitely off from normal with this situation, with Erik in general. It wasn’t really anything he did or said, but just an overall feeling that he wasn’t telling her something, that he had secrets.

Was she overanalyzing the situation because she was scared? Was she crazy to believe that maybe Gramma Annabelle had been trying to warn her about this man?

Her thighs parted and she closed her eyes, hoping he’d take it as an invitation to run his hand beneath her short skirt. She could practically feel the rough texture of his fingers to her sex.

“Just say the word and I’ll have ya bent over with my dick shoved so deep inside your tight body, stretching ya so wide you’ll never fit another man again.” His voice was hoarse, thickening his accent. “In fact, I’ll bet you’re so tight you’ll be begging me to stop, but I won’t,
leannáin
. No, once inside ya, I won’t stop—ever.”

She gasped, taking in his bold words and unable to eke out an answer through her suddenly dry throat.

His sultry voice continued, fanning warm breath over her cheek and neck as he drew closer to whisper directly into her ear. Still he didn’t fully touch her, as if waiting for her permission. “You’ll be crying out unsure if it’s pain or pleasure your feeling. Oh, but aye, you’ll know as soon as ya come, covering me with that sweet body of yours.”

Lydia couldn’t have formed a sentence if she wanted to. Her lids drifted lazily over her eyes. At her lack of protest, Erik ran his hand down her throat, pushing the strap of her dress off her shoulder as he moved to liberate a breast from the bodice. She knew she should stop him, but she couldn’t remember why. The heat of his palm felt too nice. His finger brushed over the lace of her black bra, giving relief to the taut nipple for a brief instant before gliding down over her hip to her thighs.

He kept talking, the naughty suggestions turning her on even more. “I’m going to fuck ya so good, ya won’t ever want another man between those thighs. Say the words. Tell me to make ya mine. You’ll belong to me completely and you’ll never get away,
a stóirín
.”

When he stopped talking, she struggled on the brink of dizziness, taking in hard, harsh pants of air. There was a long silence, and she knew he was waiting for her to say the words he longed to hear. She couldn’t, not because she didn’t want it but because she couldn’t form a coherent thought.

His eyes narrowed. “Kiss me.”

Lydia automatically pressed her lips to his, opening her mouth and moaning lightly as his taste flooded her. Already his scent was in her head, until every sense became filled with him.

Erik’s tongue rolled into her willing mouth, bringing a new flood of awareness and desperation. He touched her cheek, pressing up into her hair to draw her tighter into the kiss. A battle ensued between their lips. Lydia grabbed his face, turning her head to get a better angle along his mouth. He groaned in approval.

Her nerves actually erupted with sensation, sending a lively signal over her flesh. Lydia parted her legs wider and he ran his hand along her inner thigh. The first touch of his fingers along her clothed sex made her break the kiss in a rugged gasp for air. Desire pressed an electrical current directly onto the swollen bud of her clit.

“
A mhuirnín!
So ready for me,” Erik moaned, drawing his lips along her neck and ear so that he could nip and bite her flesh. He pressed harder, rubbing her through her panties. “Let me ease the ache from us both. Invite me inside your house.”

Lydia didn’t answer as she reached for his leg. Proceeding under his kilt to eagerly explore, she discovered the truth about his being naked underneath. Her hand met with the hard flesh of his erection, and it was just as immense as she remembered.

“Oh, aye,” Erik’s hips jerked as she wrapped her fingers around the base. The air inside the Mustang snapped with their sexual energy, making her powerless to stop what was happening. “I’ve been dreaming of those sweet lips wrapping around me, sucking me.”

Her own body ached with such need, and yet she was compelled by his words to aggressively push his chest back and lean across the gear shift. His hand fell from her panties. Lydia pulled the kilt up, revealing his beautiful cock. Instantly, her lips parted and she pulled him into her mouth. Erik groaned, jerking as she aggressively began bobbing up and down on his turgid shaft.

“
A ghrá!
” His words made no sense, but she understood the sound of his voice.

Lydia tried to pull away, but it was as if her lips were glued to him. She loved the taste and feel of him, loved the noises of pleasure he made in his thick accented voice. Her own body screamed in neglect. Erik touched her breast the best he could in the cramped interior of the car, but she wanted more.