Viviane could have just spit. Niall ran more hot and cold than the taps that interested him so much!
She nearly growled the whole way back to the shop and was glad when her patroness didn’t ask any questions. In fact, Barb welcomed her with undisguised delight.
The store was uncommonly busy that morning, precisely the opposite as Barb had predicted. The rain seemed to have driven everyone on the island out in search of a book and a cup of tea. Viviane took a deep breath, forced a smile and started to work. Her usually even temper was quickly restored by visits from a few of her regulars.
Barb must be right—Niall wasn’t nearly as disinterested as he’d appeared to be. After all, he’d touched her so gently this morning and been intent on giving her pleasure. And, he had followed her—of course, he was her own Gawain!
He just had things on his mind.
Although Viviane couldn’t imagine what they could be. What could be more important than spending time with her, now that they were reunited again? She puzzled over it all morning, until inspiration struck.
He was preparing to court her, of course. He must be planning a surprise, or acquiring a token of his affections, or doing something similar that required Viviane’s absence. What better excuse than to send her back to work?
The very thought put Viviane’s mood back on an even keel.
By lunchtime, she was ready to let Niall persuade her to kiss him again. In fact, she was starting to get a bit curious as to what he would do, or what he would bring her. What kind of gesture would a knight like Niall make? Viviane didn’t know and curiosity gnawed at her.
But Niall didn’t show.
By mid-afternoon, Viviane was starting to be concerned. Niall had absolutely no tendency to miss meals. What had happened to him?
Still, Niall made no appearance. Viviane kept glancing out the door, but there was no sign of him at all.
Just before closing at six, Viviane finally had a moment to herself and decided to make it count. She headed straight for the relationship section of the store, determined to find out what to do when Niall did come back. She rummaged through half a dozen books, and quickly found the common thread.
In matters between men and women, in questions of love, the real issue was communication, according to the wisdom recorded here. Because men and woman effectively spoke different languages, these books insisted, it was critical to be blunt.
A woman must tell her man exactly what she wanted of him.
Viviane was quite certain she could do that. That must have been what happened this morning—they just had a misunderstanding, as apparently countless other couples did. Viviane’s spirits soared. And if Niall didn’t understand what she wanted at this point, well, she would have to be really blunt!
Fortunately, she not only knew what she wanted, but she had a really good idea of how to tell him, too. What better way to communicate her expectations than to let Niall read her book? It was a terrifying proposition, because no one had read that book yet besides Viviane, but she knew that was the perfect course.
After all, it was a romance and Niall—or her version of him—played the starring role. Vastly reassured now her course was clear, Viviane smiled and started to put the book back on the shelf.
“Hey, witchy woman,” Monty said so close beside her that Viviane jumped. “Like, what’s happening?”
“Oh, it’s been a really busy day.” Viviane busied herself with putting the book away, blushing when Monty tilted his head to read the title.
His lips had thinned with disapproval by the time she looked up again. “So, where’s your friend? The big guy?”
“He had things to do today and I was working anyhow.” Viviane smiled, hoping Monty wouldn’t ask for more details. She would have stepped past him and returned to the counter, but Monty moved directly into her path.
His expression was remarkably grim. “What about last night? Did you really bring him home?”
“Monty!” Viviane’s cheeks were hot and she was very aware of the last few customers glancing their way. “That’s not for you to know!”
“Isn’t it? Jeez Louise, Viviane, I thought we had something going!” Monty scowled at her and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Something?”
“Yeah! We had dinner together! A lot.”
Viviane was confused. People didn’t eat with their sworn enemies, she knew, and the sharing of meals was considered companionable. Beyond that, she had no idea what Monty meant.
“Yes,” she acknowledged hesitantly.
He cast out his hands. “I thought we were like friends!”
Relief washed over Viviane. “Of course, we are friends, Monty. Why would you question that?”
For the first time since his arrival, Monty grinned. “All right! Well, then, I wanted to ask you about something. See, it’s almost the full moon, and you might not know this, but there’s lots of witches on the island.”
“I haven’t seen any.” Viviane was intrigued to hear of the witches here—having been condemned as one, she thought it quite natural to want to know more.
“Yeah, well, you might be surprised. Anyhow, they have a Sabbat on the full moon, and since I have connections, I’ve gotten us an invitation.” He winked. “This coming Saturday night. What do you think?”
Viviane was intrigued. “But what’s a Sabbat?”
“It’s a celebration, kind of a party, maybe dancing and food and drink. Some kind of Goddess stuff involved that I don’t understand, but hey, live and learn!” Monty’s grin widened. “Wanna go?”
Live and learn indeed. That seemed to be Viviane’s new motto. “Oh, yes, I’d like that.”
“Great!” Monty’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Just us, okay?”
Viviane laughed, immediately seeing his meaning. “Oh, Niall doesn’t believe in magic. I’m sure he has no interest in joining us.”
“Cool!” Monty leaned closer. “How about dinner tonight?”
Viviane’s gaze strayed tellingly to the door. She did want to be here when Niall came back, especially if he had spent the day planning some surprise for her. “Um, no, I don’t think so.”
Monty looked annoyed and she hastened to make things better. Monty had been a great help to her and Viviane didn’t want him to be angry. “But thank you for your offer…”
Monty waved her off. “A guy’s gotta make do with what he gets, I guess,” he muttered.
“But Monty!”
“Forget I said anything!” He strode out of the shop just as Mrs. Haggerty came in for her weekly allotment of romance novels.
“Oh, Viviane, don’t lock the door on me yet!” Mrs. Haggerty cried. “I need my fix and I need it tonight. Nothing like a rainy night to turn a body’s thoughts to”—she winked boldly as she stepped into the shop—“you know!”
Monty disappeared down the street, his shoulders hunched, his hands shoved into his pockets. Viviane couldn’t very well go after him, not since Mrs. Haggerty did come specifically to talk to her.
Reluctantly she closed the door and smiled. “I’ve put a few new ones aside for you, ones that I thought you might like.”
“Oh good!”
Half an hour later, Viviane waved from the doorway as Mrs. Haggerty headed on her way, a thorough discussion of new books having been completed. That lady left with a good dozen more than the ones she had ordered, all those additions based on Viviane’s recommendations. Barb was whistling as she put the cash register through its nightly ceremony.
As Viviane locked the door, she took a good look at the quiet road and empty sidewalks. The rain fell on the silent street and trickled down to the harbor.
Monty was long gone and Niall was still nowhere in sight.
Had something happened to him? Viviane folded her arms about herself, Monty forgotten, and worried.
“You’re wrong, you know,” Barb said and Viviane jumped.
“About what?”
Barb smiled wryly as she tallied the totals for the afternoon. “About Buns of Steel.”
Viviane had no idea what her boss was talking about.
“Niall,” Barb clarified. The cash register clattered away and spewed a length of tape into her waiting hands. “He’s not going to stand by and let you go to a Sabbat with Monty alone. I’d bet my last dollar on it.”
“Well, he’s not going to stop me from going.” Viviane picked up a stack of books to be reshelved and absently stuffed them back on the shelves. She looked out the windows again and again, wondering where he was.
Barb grinned. “Then you can count on him going with you. Party of three.” She raised her eyebrows expressively and shook her head. “Could be more of a crowd than Monty has in mind.”
But Viviane didn’t want to hurt Monty’s feelings. “Well, I’ll just tell Niall not to come, as simple as that,” she declared and hefted a stack of books from the counter, smiling confidently for Barb. “He’s not interested in magic or witches, anyway.”
Barb was far from persuaded. “He’s interested in you, though.”
Viviane clasped the books to her chest, savoring her boss’s conviction of that fact.
Barb didn’t look up. “If you tell him not to come, he’ll just follow you, like a stubborn old dog—if you’ll pardon the analogy—tracking his favorite bone.” She shrugged, her shrewd glance falling on Viviane, her voice falling low. “Unless he’s already got another favorite bone.”
It took Viviane only a heartbeat to understand and then she was outraged. She dropped the books back on the counter. “Barb! Niall isn’t like that! He said he came back for me and he wouldn’t leave without me. Why, he must be upstairs already, waiting for me!”
“Uh huh.” Barb counted bills as though she wasn’t paying attention, but Viviane knew her employer wasn’t convinced of Niall’s good intentions.
It was some consolation that it was only because Barb was worried about her. Viviane knew her employer wasn’t nearly as hard-hearted as she liked to appear, and she appreciated Barb’s concern.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Barb,” Viviane said softly. “I know Niall is the man for me and he knows it too.”
Barb looked up, shooting a telling glance over her glasses as Viviane leaned on the counter. “You see, you just don’t know how he is. He’s a man who keeps his word, a man who honors women and keeps his promises. He’s a knight…”
“You mean, like a knight,” Barb interrupted tersely. “There aren’t any real knights any more. Those re-enactment types or men’s fraternities don’t count.”
“Right!” Viviane straightened after her slip and continued carefully. That was she got for chattering on! “Niall’s like a knight, like one of the knights in those stories, a knight who rides in to sweep a woman off her feet.”
Barb looked wry. “And you would be the damsel in distress?”
Viviane smiled with confidence in her role. “Oh yes, I think so.”
The older woman shook her head and braced a hand on the counter. “There are no men like that anymore, Viviane.” She gestured to the wall of romance books, her expression deadly serious. “Don’t confuse real life with fiction. I’d hate to see you get burned.”
Viviane frowned, but Barb returned to the task of counting money and she knew better than to interrupt.
How could she be burned when there was no fire in her room?
And what did fire have to do with Niall?
Other than the heat he awakened with his touch. Viviane smiled and finished shelving the books, more than looking forward to finding him upstairs.
Of course, he would be there. She knew she could rely on Niall.
And he would have a wondrous surprise for her, one intended to win her heart and make her his own.
It would be perfect.
It is the way of a flagon of ale to tempt a man to have another. Niall wasn’t helped by the fact that each time the coinage of this realm passed under his nose, he saw the date stamped or printed upon it, yet more evidence he was not where he belonged.
And perhaps beyond the possibility of return. His word might be broken irrevocably, his solemn pledge as ashes in the wind. That knowledge, too, drove him to have another, if only to bolster him against the assault of the truth.
Derek proved to be a man well versed in how matters worked and had no qualms about explaining all and sundry to Niall. They talked and talked as they drank and drank. Niall tallied vast lists of numbers in his head, laughing when Derek was clearly impressed.
He divided, multiplied and subtracted with equal alacrity, although those talents were somewhat adversely affected by the ale as the night went on. Derek’s explanations also began to suffer, but neither man particularly heeded the change.
Indeed, they toasted each other’s cleverness and called for another round.
’Twas well past midnight when they were cast from the tavern for their poor singing. They waved good night to each other, two men who did the math and were now far better friends than they had been just hours past, then stumbled in the directions of their own pallets.
Niall made his uneven way toward Viviane’s abode, hauling the bag filled with his mail with no small effort. He sincerely hoped she would let him in. The rain was cold, his knee was aching. He wanted only to sleep on the floor, sheltered from the downpour, although a smile from the lady would not be unwelcome.
Niall’s steps fell a little faster at the prospect. He found the door unlatched and leaned his brow against the frame in relief, his heart thudding that this lady should show him such compassion. Niall’s loins tightened in recollection of Viviane’s smile. She did prompt a feeling within him, a sense of power that recalled the days when he had not been a lowly sentry. He felt bold and brave in her presence, he lived again as a knight who was honored.
Niall barely crossed the threshold before the lady herself gasped aloud.
“Niall! You’re here!”
As he looked up, Viviane came flying down the stairs, her hair unbound, her feet bare and her eyes wide. Niall saw the traces of her tears just before she cast herself into his arms and he caught her, instinctively holding her close. Her heartbeat fluttered beneath his palm like a wild bird, she clutched at his neck as though she had to reassure herself he was real.
She had been worried for him. Affection flooded through Niall and he cradled her against his chest, wanting only to ease her concern.
It had been a long time since a woman who was not his kin had worried for Niall of Malloy.
“I was so afraid something had happened to you! I was worried when you were out so late and you didn’t come back even for a meal and I was afraid something might have happened to you.” Viviane pulled back, her eyes luminous yet lit with fear, her fingertips grazing his cheek. “Are you all right? Were you lost? Did anyone take advantage of you or trick you? Don’t tell me you were robbed!”
And in that moment, staring into her wondrous eyes, ’twas all so perfectly clear. Niall held the most beautiful woman he had ever known in his arms, she was concerned for his sorry hide, she made him feel like a hero returned victorious.
Viviane was a woman who desired him, and Niall was a man who desired her.
It could be no simpler than that.
Niall enveloped Viviane’s delicate jaw in his hand, he tipped her face up to his. “You have no need to fret,” he murmured. “I am here and all is all right.”
The lady parted her lips but Niall granted her no chance to speak before he indulged his completely natural desire for her kiss. He bent his head and slanted his lips across the sweetness of hers, claiming her and silencing her in one move.
If she had turned him away, Niall would have stepped back, but Viviane did not. Indeed, she sighed with such contentment and leaned against him with such abandon, Niall thought his heart would burst with its thundering.
Niall dropped his bag, swept the lady into his arms and kicked the door closed behind them. He carried her up the stairs without breaking his kiss or heeding the complaints of his knee.
Aye, he could find that fine pallet in the dark this night, he knew it well, and neither of them would regret it.
Viviane twined her arms around Niall’s neck and returned his kiss with abandon. This was the best surprise of all.
Maybe he wouldn’t even need to read her book.
His tongue slid between her teeth in that instant and drove coherent thought from Viviane’s mind. She sighed and opened her mouth, surprised to find herself on her own bed, Niall’s shadow looming over her. They knelt there for a moment, wavering against the tide of their desire, then Niall broke their kiss.
“Viviane,” he said simply, his voice low with desire. The way he said her name stole Viviane’s breath away, the tenderness in the hand that rose to caress her jaw made her mouth go dry.
She melted when he rubbed the rough edge of his thumb across her cheek and understood when this perfect knight shook his head, as though incredulous she was not only before him but welcoming of his touch.
“Tell me,” he urged. “Tell me what ’tis you desire.”
Viviane framed his face in her hands and smiled. “Niall,” she whispered, leaning closer to barely touch her lips to his. She opened her eyes in the act of that kiss and found his bright gaze fixed upon her. Her nipples grazed his chest, she could feel the heat of his erection near her thigh even though her nightgown.
But he waited, granting her the chance to decide.
Viviane’s smile widened. “I want you,” she whispered. “In every way I can imagine.”
Niall’s eyes gleamed like emeralds in the shadows for a heartbeat before he caught her against him once again. The purpose in his touch made Viviane tingle in anticipation. This time, there would be no halting short of the finish.
She could hardly wait.
Niall’s strong hand slid into her hair to cradle her nape, his mouth settled on hers once again as his other arm locked around her waist. Her curves molded to the hard lines of his body as though they were made to be together. She could smell the distinctive scent of his flesh, the hint of ale, the wind and sun that clung to his hair.
Viviane was captive within his embrace and could think of nowhere else she would rather be. He held her with the tempered strength so characteristic of him, of a strong man striving to be gentle with an infinitely precious gift. She could feel the thrum of desire running through him—and was well aware of the answering cry within herself.
Niall’s lips grazed her jaw, her temple, her earlobe. Viviane closed her eyes and surrendered to his sure touch, savoring the sweet brush of each butterfly-light kiss. His hands roved over her, ceaselessly gentle, as though he would memorize every mole she had, as though he would seek them out and taste them each in turn. His hot kisses trailed down her throat and Viviane arched her back, sighing then shivering when he pressed a languorous kiss into the hollow of her throat.
Then Niall was kissing her moles, each one in succession, running a line between them with the heat of his tongue, his breath fanning her desire ever higher. He caught her waist in his hands, the span of his fingers nearly surrounding her and lifted her to his questing lips, his mouth locking around her nipple. His tongue and his teeth teased the peak until Viviane squirmed, but there was no escape.
And Niall only teased her more. Viviane buried her fingers in the thick silk of his hair and urged him closer, leaning back in unbridled delight. This was her knight, after all, the man by whose side she was destined to be. There was no need for secrets between them, no need to hold anything back.
Niall flicked his tongue against her, making her shudder from head to toe, and Viviane forgot everything except his touch.
He treated the other breast to the same thorough attention and Viviane heard herself moan aloud. She thought she heard Niall chuckle, but couldn’t be sure. His questing kisses slipped lower and when his tongue flicked into her navel, Viviane felt her knees buckle. Niall eased her back onto the mattress, his hands cupping her buttocks and lifting her hips to his kiss.
Viviane wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing, until the heat of his mouth landed upon her in a most distracting fashion. She gasped aloud and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, but this time Niall did chuckle. And he did not move away. His broad shoulders braced her thighs, opening her to his persuasive touch, his tongue teasing her much as his fingers had the day before. Viviane felt the heat rise beneath her skin more quickly than it had before, though it was hotter this time as well.
Though this time, Niall teased her. He halted when she was just shy of reaching the summit, paused for a telling moment, and then began his sensuous assault once more. Viviane felt herself climbing higher each time, release tantalizingly close but still out of reach.
On the third time, she wriggled demandingly against him, uncertain she could stand it if he denied her this time. Niall gripped her buttocks and lifted her hips off the bed, his tongue dancing with gusto, flicking and suckling in turn.
Viviane writhed, her nipples tightened like beads, her hips bucked of their own accord. The heat rose beneath her skin like a tide and she understood just as the crest hovered over her that this time, Niall would see her through. Her heart pounded at the gift of pleasure he was intent to give her,
And then, suddenly, the release flooded through and over her. She shook to her core, she cried out, she shuddered like a leaf in the wind.
In that moment, Niall dove the length of the bed, capturing her in his arms, holding her fast against the storm. Viviane felt his shoulder against her cheek when the last ripple left her and she leaned against him with a smile.
Her knight was back.
She was beautiful, even in slumber.
Niall held Viviane close, watching her doze against him. She had been pleased, he knew it well. And Niall felt like a victorious king for his role in that.
This ’twas that Viviane gave him. This ’twas what astonished him and made him feel more the man than he knew himself to be. She believed in him, she trusted him, she expected valor and honor from him.
She made him feel whole again.
The lady sighed and stretched contentedly, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks before her eyes opened. Niall’s heart clenched—his desire for her was unsated, indeed it raged, but never would he force himself upon a woman.
But Viviane smiled. She curled against him and slipped her arms around his neck, her lips brushing his in a way that fired everything within Niall. Her hand fell upon his erection with a certainty unexpected, the weight of her hand there making Niall gasp.
“We’re not done,” she whispered, her gaze warm and welcoming.
Niall needed no second invitation. He slipped his fingers into her heat, ensuring she was well prepared for him. He kissed her, nursing her desire once more, surprised by how quickly she arched against him, every move she made a silent demand.
The musky scent of her was inescapable and infinitely arousing. The floral scent clinging to her flesh from the shower this morn teased Niall with the memory of how she had tormented him. She mimicked his slow kisses, her tongue nudging between his teeth and making Niall’s blood boil.
He lifted his head, knowing he could not last unless he halted for a moment, but Viviane was not inclined to let him cease. She followed him with her intoxicating kisses, locking her hands around his neck and tumbling across him when he rolled to his back.
Her hunger for his touch enflamed him as naught else could have done. The ripe perfection of a buttock fell beneath one hand, Niall found a turgid nipple with the other and he was powerless to escape the lady’s touch.
She eased across him as they kissed, her hands running over his flesh, her breasts crushed against his chest, the sweep of her smooth thigh across his erection nigh making him explode. He whispered her name and her laughter fanned across his neck.
“Show me, Niall,” she said softly. He looked up to find her eyes sparkling with humor. “I don’t know what to do.”
Niall gripped her buttocks and lifted her so she straddled him. He savored how pliant and pleased she was, his heart pounding at the welcome in her smile. The meager light coming through the window must be of the moon, for it painted her in ethereal silver, making her look like a fairy lover come to make Niall her own. She looked gossamer-wrought, as delicate as a cobweb, as silky smooth as a white flower opened beneath the moon.
He hesitated anew, afraid he would hurt her. But Viviane framed his face in her hands and kissed him soundly, wriggling her hips until his erection encountered her softness. ’Twas so easy to shift his hips, to find his destination, to ease against her welcoming warmth.
Niall had a fleeting impression something was amiss, she was too tight for him, too tiny, too finely wrought, but Viviane put an end to any hesitation. She drove her tongue into his mouth and settled herself onto him, a move that could not have been better designed to override his hesitation.
And then, Niall was buried within her, dizzy with sensation and oblivious to all else. There was only Viviane, her sweetness, her silken thighs, her ardent kisses. The wet heat of her seemed to draw him deeper and deeper, her grip upon him and her beguiling tongue forcing all coherent thought from his mind.
Niall was lost and did not want to be found.
They moved together in that ageless dance, temple to temple, whispering incoherently to each other and gasping in turn. The heat was easily conjured between them once more, the lady’s embers stoked to a flame. Niall moved his hips to caress the lady, savoring her moans and fleeting smiles. Already he could read her response, as though they had been together countless times, already he could feel her proximity to release.
This time, they would share the pleasure.
Niall slipped his hand between them, his thumb landing upon Viviane with a persuasiveness that made her cry out. She sat up and strained for the sky, a vision of silvered femininity high above him, her knees digging into his waist as they rocked together.
She suddenly threw her head back and moaned, the secret heat of her clutched him with a surety that made Niall bellow in turn. For one electric moment, their gazes held, the world stopped and there was naught but the explosion of pleasure between them.
Then Viviane collapsed atop him and Niall caught her close, rolling against the tangled lines. Their bodies were spent but he was loath to release even a fraction of her touch.
Even when he felt her drift into slumber once more.
Niall leaned back and closed his eyes as he nestled Viviane more tightly against his side. His thumb stroked the softness of her shoulder, marveling at what they had shared, as he drifted off to sleep.