Dark Enchantment (32 page)

Later, Arianna told him she wanted to try out some of her new ‘super-powers’

Caleb smiled softly. “I’ll teach you our most elemental ability—fire-starting.” During their meal, the fire in the hearth had burned down to smoldering embers. “Focus your consciousness,” he instructed her. “Find the power that resides deep inside you. Feel it gathering, building, filling you like an evanescent ball of life?” Eyes huge, she gave a quick nod. “Now, throw the arc of that energy from yourself, direct it toward the grate.”
Nothing.
Encouraged to try again, she repeated the process. The third time, as they say, was the charm. An anemic, pale yellow flame sprang from what remained of the logs and peat. Though it flickered pathetically, she squealed and clapped her hands with all the bright-eyed excitement of a child on Christmas morning.

After they finished eating, Caleb begged a couple of hours to cancel appointments and put some pressing business matters on hold. “Our marriage was…precipitous.” His lips twisted into a wry smile. “I fancy freeing up the next few weeks to devote myself fully to seeing to the needs of my new wife.”

To say she was feeling overwhelmed was an understatement. Arianna was grateful, therefore, for the chance to escape to her bedroom for some personal downtime. She climbed up the wooden steps to the plush, queen-size bed and curled up on a duvet of mauve and gray-swirled crushed velvet. She lay staring up at the matching canopy as her brain attempted to assimilate all that had transpired in her life within the space of only a few hours.

Glancing at the fireplace, she noted the flames were dwindling. A thrill of anticipation rushed through her as she practiced the fire-starting divination that Caleb had taught her. A smug smile formed on her face at the resulting flash. She had always been a fast learner, she thought, snuggling into the soft pillow. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

Moaning low in her throat, she sighed against her dream lover’s lips. His mouth brushed over hers. Once, twice. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” Caleb whispered in her ear.

She opened her eyes to find him sitting beside her, one arm positioned on the mattress on the other side of her hip. The room was dark, except for the golden firelight from the hearth, and the flickering light of a dozen or so candles scattered about the room. A faerie tale princess awakened by the kiss of her one true love. Not so far from the truth, she mused whimsically, with a contented sigh.

“What did I do?” She groaned, stretching like a lazy cat. “Sleep the afternoon away?”

“Only a couple of hours. ‘Tis about half-five now. I’ve ordered the evening meal served at seven in the solar, if that suits. Our own private celebration. We’ll appear in the Great Hall tomorrow night, so you can be officially presented to the staff as their chatelaine. But tonight,” he gave a crooked smile. “I fancy keeping you all to myself.”

Chapter Thirty-three

A
ll soaked and steamed, creamed and perfumed, Arianna rounded the corner into the study. The ivory silk of her calf-length dress draped over every dip and curve. Mouth dry, palms damp, she found Caleb in front of the fire, reading. He looked up, a slight smile lighted on his lips. He put his book aside and rose to greet her.

She was still reeling from the disclosures of the day, that Caleb—and she—belonged to an otherworldly race. While she had embraced the concept, she had yet to come to terms with all that that really meant. Their eyes met, and she perceived at once the change in him, in their relationship. She felt her heart falter at the touch of his eyes. It was tactile, seeming to burn through the fabric of her dress, spreading a spiral of warmth that coiled deep in her belly. As he moved toward her, it was with that lethal grace that had always fascinated her. The smooth glide of muscle beneath his skin reminded her of a mountain lion, and she a startled doe venturing inadvertently into its den.

“
Mine.”
She felt, more than heard, the possessive pronoun. But rather than ownership, the word conveyed a sense of belonging, of family and security, and many other things too intense to name. He bent his head and brushed her lips with his, testing her, testing himself. The slow, sultry kiss chased away any earlier misgivings. “Sure, aren’t you a sight to rival the angels in heaven tonight.” His low baritone did funny things to her insides.

“Why, thank you, Sir.” She covered her case of nerves with a saucy toss of her head. “You don’t clean up too bad yourself.”

And he didn’t. Arianna had thought him strikingly handsome before…a dark angel in faded blue jeans and cool, black leather. Tonight, however, he looked like he had stepped right out of the pages of GQ. He was wearing a pale beige cashmere sweater in an Aran knit pattern of black, tan, and navy swirls. The colors perfectly complemented his indigo woolen trousers, the hem of which brushed the tassels of a pair of Italian loafers.

As he took her hand and led her across the room, Arianna was moved beyond words by the ends this strong, silent man had gone to tonight. The setting was a whisper of romance, the lighting soft and muted. The small table in the alcove where they usually took their meals now stood on an Oriental rug in front of the massive hearth, where a rolling log-and-turf fire warmed the room. Dressed in fine white Irish linen, the table was set with Dresden china, crystal goblets and champagne flutes accented by gold flatware. In the middle of the table sat a centerpiece of fresh-cut flowers, a rose in every color imaginable—white, pink, red, yellow and, strangely, blue—with mums, lavender, and sprigs of sweet-smelling honeysuckle added for accent. On either side of the vase, slim tapers flickered from a pair of antique table candlesticks. An alluring Celtic melody played softly in the background, seeming to swirl through the air from every direction.

“Dinner should be arriving soon. Hungry?” Caleb smiled, trailing a finger down the side of one cheek.

“Starved…” She stretched onto her toes and leaned into him. “For you,” she whispered against his mouth, then slid playfully away as he reached for her. She settled onto the sofa and crossed her legs in a way that revealed a provocative glimpse of thigh.

Caleb’s head tipped, his eyes glinted wickedly as he went to draw a chilled magnum of Dom Pèrignon from a stand beside the table. “Well then,” he declared softly, popping the cork with a flourish. “We’ll just put off eating dinner, until we’re after sating other more relentless appetites.”

He filled two flutes with the effervescent liquid. “Champagne, my love?”

She accepted one of the flutes as he sat beside her and raised his in a silent toast. They watched one another over the rims of their glasses as they sipped the sparkling beverage. Arianna’s gaze drifted lower, following the constriction of his throat muscles as he swallowed. The light of the hearth fire accentuated the generous curve of his bottom lip, deliciously moistened by the cool, crisp drink. She wanted to taste those lips, drink him in. Their eyes met. His looked like liquid emeralds in the firelight.

It was too warm. Suddenly nervous, she raised her glass to her lips and took a large gulp. Bubbles burst up her nose and burned her sinuses. Eyes watering, she started choking.

Caleb chuckled as he patted her lightly on the back. “You okay?”

Arianna nodded. Caleb—her new husband, she corrected—was watching her closely. The arrogant glint of sexual dominance in his gaze was a reality check. A woman with no prior sexual experience, just what did she think she was doing, attempting to play the Femme Fatale with this virile, seemingly predatory male?

The answer was simple. She was feeling insecure, concerned that she would be awkward and fumbling, that her inexperience would disappoint him. To counteract that, she was putting on an act, attempting to appear confident, coy, and sexually self-assured. Like his other bed partners, those otherworldly faerie women. Like Seamus’s girlfriend at the pub.

Yeah, no pressure there.

“We’ll have to organize having your things shipped from the States.” He trailed his fingers deliciously over the bared flesh above her knees.

“I have to go back.” She ran her finger around the rim of the Waterford crystal glass and made it hum. “I have to sell Da’s house, our businesses, say goodbye to…friends.”

She had almost said Damien. She felt a gentle fluttering in her mind, and then Caleb’s expression soured. His hand left her thigh, formed a fist in his lap. “Any
friend
in particular?” he asked pleasantly.

Caleb had obviously already skimmed that information from her mind. “You need to knock that off, that…that mind reading,” she admonished him again.

He ignored her. “Saying goodbye to that particular
friend
will be easily accomplished, will it not? You simply ring him from here and tell him you’re a
married woman
now.”

“I’m not going to break up with somebody over the phone. That’s just plain cold.”

The temperature in the room plummeted, Arianna estimated a drop of about ten degrees. Her inflexibility on the subject had clearly infuriated him. His irises darkened to an army green, and then he deliberately rose from the sofa. She flinched as he turned and removed the empty flute from her fingers. “More champagne?”

“No, nothing more to drink, thanks.” Her reply was breathless. It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, leaving them in an airless vacuum.

He refilled his own glass. “You are my wife now, Arianna.” His jaw was set in the stubborn lines she was quickly becoming accustomed to. “And I’ll not tolerate you seeing that man again. Ever.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Not
tolerate
it? Are you kidding me? After all the time we’ve spent together, do you even know me at all? Do you think that because we’ve decided to share our lives, I’m going to suddenly go through some…metamorphosis? Become some meek little mouse without a brain or an opinion of my own?” Arianna stood and paced over to the tea wagon beneath the window. “I love you, Caleb, I really do. With all my heart. But you need to understand here and now that no one—
no one
,” she emphasized, meeting his stormy gaze, “is going to presume to dictate who my friends will be.”

The room rang with her pronouncement, like the echoing toll of a death knell.

Caleb moved to his armchair in front of the fire and set his glass of champagne on a table beside it. For a long moment, there was silence. And then the corners of his lips curved. It wasn’t a pleasant smile, Arianna noted, but chilling, ruthless. A promise of recompense.

She felt like one of those meerkats on Animal Planet watching a circling hawk.

When Caleb finally responded, it was in a voice so soft that she had to strain to hear him. “Oh, but I
do
dare, wife. Do you not know by now,
a ghrá,
that I dare to presume anything I wish?”

Still standing beside the teacart next to the window, Arianna looked out at the roiling sea hundreds of feet below. She picked at a piece of dust on the windowsill. Just what had she gotten herself into? “He’s just a friend, Caleb.”

There it was again. The flash of a lethal smile. “Fair enough, then. I’ve no problem with your
friends
.” This time he really did sound pleasant, quite affable in fact.

But when Arianna met his gaze, the stark emptiness staring back at her made her heart ache. She would pick her battles, she told herself. But she refused to hurt him just to make a point. “Look, if it bothers you this much….”

“So, you’ve never…
bedded
…this friend. Right?”

“No, I…uh.” The blunt question caught her off-guard. It brought to mind the way she and Damien had lain spooned together in his bed. There had been some making out, okay, a little petting, too, but—

For a moment, she had completely forgotten his ability to get inside her head. The mental shield she threw up against him was a knee-jerk reaction.

Too late, she realized the implications of her actions. She had only made matters worse. Denying him access to her thoughts at that crucial moment would lead him to believe that things had gone much farther than they actually had.

“This…em…
friend…
Damien, is it?” he asked, having picked the name right out of her head. “This man you’re so adamant about seeing again?” The green eyes taking her measure were inscrutable, the gentle intonation of his voice no less deadly for its softness. “So, you’ve slept with him,
mo chroí
?”

“No. Well, yes,
slept
, but—”

“No, yes…. So, which is it?” He continued with that same easy, congenial tone.

The interrogation frayed her patience around the edges. “Look, nothing happened between us, okay?”

Caleb didn’t believe her. He had gotten it into his head that she wanted to continue a liaison with her former boyfriend back in the States. Caleb tipped his head, his impassive gaze regarding her as time passed. Ten seconds. Thirty. Arianna could feel a blush heat her cheeks, even as her blood ran cold as ice. Granted, she knew nothing of the rules governing the new society into which she had been so unceremoniously thrust. Still, something in her…husband’s…manner seemed to communicate that she had blown it. That, in their culture, slamming one’s mind shut against a spouse was a rude and unforgivable act. A virtual slap in the face.

Considering these outrageous circumstances, she supposed she could understand how such a thing between a committed couple might be misconstrued. How it could create mistrust, leave unanswered questions, create suspicion. And, as a member of a magical race, Caleb would possess a very vivid imagination indeed. Which meant his head was probably swimming right now with forbidden images. Lewd, salacious pictures of his new wife cavorting about naked on another man’s bed.

A man, she had just stated her unyielding intention to see again.

Caleb muttered something that sounded like a vile Gaelic curse and closed his eyes. Arianna’s gaze shot toward the tall plume of fire that shot up the flu, even as a loud grumble, resembling thunder, rolled across the ceiling. Her eyes grew large at the subtle sway of the carpeted stone beneath her feet.
Scary.
Her husband’s anger commanded the power to shake the very foundation of a medieval castle. The word
earthquake
popped into her mind, followed by a frightening picture: The two of them lying trapped beneath tons of ancient stone and rubble.

He continued to sit across from her, his head bowed, eyes squeezed tightly together as if he were in great pain.

“Caleb?” His name spilled almost soundlessly from her lips.

He thrust his hand out, palm up, as he struggled for control. “No.” The abrupt tone slapped at her, although he hadn’t raised his voice. Agonizing minutes passed, before at last he lifted his head. Everything was calm again, deathly still. The room grew colder. Heart thumping like a jackrabbit, she realized that the penetrating chill emanated from Caleb. A shimmering aura cloaked him now in an enchanted mist that permeated the air with magic.

Arianna felt real fear for the first time. In reality, she knew so little about the man she loved. So little about the potential danger of the powers inherent in his race.
Her
race….

But if they hoped to have any kind of future, she had to put her foot down, set things straight early on. “Caleb, I love you. But I won’t be bullied by these…magical temper tantrums of yours. As you might imagine, my head is spinning with all that’s happened today. I’m really not very hungry.” She stood and rubbed her damp palms down the front of her dress. “I think I’ll go back to my room and change into something more comfortable. Call it a day.”

“A silk peignoir has been laid out for you in my bedchamber. A gift to you, from your new husband.” Caleb spoke softly, his voice a silken invitation as he pushed his long, lean frame out of the armchair. He reached out and took her hand. ’Tis our wedding night,
a ghrá
. Sure, the evening isn’t over yet.”

“No?” Her voice cracked.

His hypnotic gaze held her helplessly in his thrall. “Oh, not nearly.”

A surge of panic shot through her at the imminent threat…the erotic promise…in his words. In the depths of his molten gaze lurked a deadly peril. A sharp thrill of danger reverberated from her head to her tingling toes. His heavy-lidded gaze seduced, lured her into a sensual awareness that warned of no rest, no respite.

Even as it promised the very heights of ecstasy….

Calling upon her own inner strength, she tore her eyes from the heady allure of that transcendental power. “Stop trying to manipulate me with that…that mental thing you do. You say that, according to some arcane law I know nothing about, we’re legally married. But I don’t
feel
married, Caleb. There was no priest. No ceremony. No witnesses. No marriage license. So, what if I insist on sleeping alone in the adjoining room? Would you use your magical powers to mold me to your will? To force me into your bed before I’m ready?” That last she asked on a whisper.