Fire on the Island (11 page)

She looked
skeptical but crossed her arms and remained silent.

"Now that
I know you, this is personal for me. I want to figure out what's going on for
you, not for my work. That said, I found out some things today that we really
need to talk about, sooner rather than later."

She hugged
herself, huge, haunted eyes looking everywhere but at him, and his heart hurt
for her. "I need some time."

"Sure,"
he said, cupping her cheek. He kissed her on her forehead and stepped back.
"Don't take too long. I don't want anything happening to you."

Chapter
Eleven

Isla drove around
the island for hours, not wanting to go home but also not trusting herself to
see Jeremiah. She was tied up in knots, a mass of jumbled thoughts and
emotions. She wanted to allow herself to believe in Jeremiah, and that had
never happened to her before, but she was so afraid to open her heart only to
get cast aside again.

Traveling the
coastal road, she had circled the island nearly twice. When she passed through
the little southeast town of Sliddery for the second time, she decided to take
the risk. Continuing on in her original direction, she set a course for
Lochranza, and Jeremiah.

By the time she
reached Callum's wee cottage by the sea, her stomach was flip-flopping with
nerves. It may not mean a thing to Jeremiah that she was crossing all kinds of
personal boundaries to trust him, to give him another chance, but to her it was
everything.

She approached
the house hesitantly, not sure of what to say or do, but wanting to make
Jeremiah realize the importance of this step for her. Instead of going for the
door, she went to the front porch first, with its picture window that faced out
to the beach.

A sultry,
melancholy melody floated out to her, aided by the gentle sea breeze, piercing
straight through her and making her shiver. Peering into the window, she saw
Jeremiah reclining on the couch facing away from her, a sleek, but well-worn,
black guitar cradled in his lap. He stroked the neck like a lover with long
fingers, and Isla found herself wishing her body was the thing his hands
caressed.

Needing a
little distance and not wanting to disturb his playing, Isla chose to go for a
walk on the shore for a little while. Though the late evening chill had a bite,
she took off her shoes to dab her toes in the water.

Jeremiah felt a
tickle at the back of his neck, and his hackles rose as if he was being
watched. Setting his guitar aside, he propped himself up on his elbows and
craned his neck around to look at the window. Seeing nothing, he heaved himself
off the couch to peer through the glass.

He didn't see
her at first in the fading light, until he caught a glimpse of movement at the
water's edge. She wore snug jeans and a white peasant top that fluttered in the
wind. Her long mahogany curls waved behind her like a curtain tossed in a
spring wind.

Sliding open
the back door, Jeremiah strolled out onto the porch and leaned a shoulder
against one of the columns holding up the pediment. As if sensing his presence,
Isla turned her face into the wind to lock eyes with him. Raising a hand high
in greeting, she started back toward the house, and he walked down the porch
steps to meet her.

When she
approached him, she looked so lost and uncertain, gaze pinned to the ground in
front of her that he just wanted to hug her. So he did. "Hi," he murmured.

"Hi."
Her voice was muffled by her face pressing against his chest and that made him
smile. They stood like that for a while, with the sea softly tossing behind
them, and the wind whistling her
banshee
song through the trees.

Inhaling a deep
shuddering breath, Isla finally relaxed into his hold and her hands came up,
ever so cautiously, to clasp around his waist. Leaning back just enough so that
she could meet his warm hazel gaze with her own, she gave him a small smile.

"I'm not
very good at this," she said. He wasn't sure whether she meant trusting
someone to help her or letting her guard down enough to be intimate. Maybe it
was both.

"I
know," he said, tucking an errant black curl behind her ear, and gave her
a lopsided grin. "S'ok. I totally am."

She laughed a
little, a merry tinkling sound, and he was glad he could give her that,
although the sound had sent a jolt of pure lust southward, and he knew she
would be able to feel the evidence of it.

Clearing his
throat, Jeremiah took a step back to put a little space between them. The last
thing he wanted was for her to feel pressured by him and his traitorous body.
"You'll always be safe with me. You know that, right?"

"Yes, I
do," she answered without hesitation. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell
open—clearly she had surprised herself with her conviction as much as she had
Jeremiah. As he watched her, Jeremiah saw the truth of her statement slowly
dawn on her.

As if a switch
had been flipped, her gaze dropped to his mouth, she unconsciously bit her lip
and her eyes grew heavy lidded. With her left hand, she hooked two fingers
through the belt loop at his hip and jerked him toward her so that their lower
bodies were flush. Her right hand slid up from his belly to his chest, where
she grabbed a fistful of his shirt to drag him down for a kiss.

She crushed her
mouth to his, biting his bottom lip just hard enough to sting. Her surprising
aggression sent shockwaves of electricity up and down his spine. Lust coiled in
his belly, causing him to groan. Isla broke the kiss reluctantly with one last
nip.

Reaching up,
she gingerly touched the cut on the side of his lower lip caused by her earlier
blow. She pursed her lips, but her eyes were twinkling with an utter lack of
remorse and more than a little amusement.

"Small,
but mighty," he chuckled.

Fire sparked in
her eyes, and she used both hands to jerk him harder against her. "You
know it," she said, lifting her chin almost as if to challenge him to
prove just that.

Control
slipping away from him, Jeremiah's vision dimmed around the edges as he filled
his mouth again with the taste of Isla. Sliding his hands down from where they
had rested on her back, he cupped her curvaceous ass and lifted her off the
ground.

He let out a
grunt of approval when she immediately hooked her legs around his waist because
he was too busy feasting on her sinful mouth to speak. Turning to carry her
back into the house, he grudgingly tore his mouth away from her so that he
could see where he was going.

As he carried
her up the steps to the porch, she turned her attentions to his neck, kissing
and nipping a path from collarbone to ear and back again. When she bit down on
a particularly sensitive spot over his leaping pulse, the pain/pleasure
sensation went straight to his groin—and he was pretty sure his eyes actually
crossed.

Crossing the
threshold, he kicked the door shut, and Isla immediately slithered down the
front of him until her feet rested on the plush carpet. Jeremiah tugged at the
hem of her gauzy top, and she obediently raised her arms to allow him to draw
it up her torso, his palms sliding across her taut abdomen along the way.

Tossing the
shirt aside, Jeremiah quirked an eyebrow at the lacy, white scrap of fabric
that covered small but full breasts. The woman was just full of surprises.

Isla’s head was
spinning with the release of all her pent up frustration and lust. She had
tried to hold back and keep herself closed off from him, telling herself that
it was a bad idea to get involved with any man, much less one who was just passing
through. She had told herself to be sensible and responsible, that it hadn’t
been that long. But it had.

Never one to do
anything halfway, she made the decision to give in to temptation and share with
Jeremiah both her body and her trust. And besides, she thought, the man was
hot.

Muscles bunched
in his arms and chest as he whipped off his t-shirt, and before he had even
finished, she had begun to unbutton his jeans.

Batting her
hands aside, Jere kicked off his shoes and pulled off his jeans while Isla did
the same. Pushing her up against the door, his mouth came down on hers again,
this time hotter and more insistent.

Her hands
massaged the taut muscles of his back, and slid down to grip his muscular ass.
He groaned against her mouth, a sound that she mirrored when his questing hands
found her breasts, his fingers dipping inside the silk to tease and stroke.

Chest heaving,
he broke away long enough to gasp, "Bed?" Equally as winded, she
gulped in a breath and gave him a quick shake of her head. "Too far."

Sealing their
mouths again, Jeremiah half pulled, half dragged her to the lush rug in front
of the stone hearth. Laughing, they tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

All laughter stopped
when Jeremiah rolled on top of Isla, bracing his forearms on either side of her
head to take some of his weight.

Her face was
flushed, her lips were reddened from his kisses, and her eyes looked decidedly
dazed. Perfect, he thought. Pushing him off of her with the flat of her hand,
Isla sat up and reached around behind her back to unhook and discard her bra.

Gently,
Jeremiah pushed her back down on the rug and slid down her body, licking a path
from her neck all the way to her breasts. Taking one sensitive peak into his
mouth, he sucked hard, and his hand slid down her side to dip into her plain
cotton panties and cup her firmly.

Jeremiah
struggled for control as he continued working her body that way for what felt
like hours but could have only been minutes. His hands and mouth were
everywhere at once, stroking, nibbling, worshipping, while her body burned
beneath him. Just when he thought he couldn't take much more, he watched in awe
as she shattered in an extraordinary release, her body growing taut and bowing
up off the rug.

Jeremiah leaned
back to make quick work of his boxers, and then he drew the thin cotton down
her long legs until she was completely exposed to him. He froze for just a
moment, taking in the sight of her.

Her skin was
fair, but sun kissed and freckled in areas of frequent exposure. Her dark curls
fanned out from her face, looking deliciously tumbled. That lithe, muscular
body still quivered with the aftershocks of her release, and her heavy-lidded,
feline eyes watched him from beneath their thick, black fringe.

The last of his
control gone, he covered her body with his own. Settling his hips between her
strong thighs, he surged inside her with a sound akin to a growl.

Jeremiah felt her
shudder as he sheathed himself inside her wet heat. He held still at first,
reveling in the sensation of being joined with her. After a few seconds, she
squirmed beneath him and he was dying to move.

Finally, he
did. He wasn't gentle with her—he didn't think that was what she wanted. He
pounded into her again and again, placing mindless kisses and nips against her
neck and ear as he lost himself to sensation.

Never one to be
passive, Isla ran her hands over his powerful back, felt the muscles there bulge
and ripple. Wrapping her legs around the back of his thighs, she surged up to
meet him thrust for thrust. When he bit down on the fleshy area at the crook of
her shoulder, and began to pound into her even harder, she felt her muscles
contract and her belly quiver with the beginning of another crest.

As she gripped
him through her release, Jeremiah felt her hand slide down to his abdomen,
where the muscles flexed with exertion and lust, and she dragged her nails up
from where they were joined, along his belly to his chest to scrape across his
nipples.

The movement
sent a bolt of pleasure rippling up and down his spine, and he exploded. His
hips rocked into her as his own release overtook him.

Collapsing on
top of her, Jere panted and waited for his pounding heart to slow down. He felt
rather than heard the rumble of laughter that bubbled up from her as she
stroked his back gently.

Tugging on his
hair lightly as had become her habit, she urged him to roll off of her.

"You're
heavy," she said, with laughter in her voice.

"That's
because you killed me. I'm just dead weight now," he said, grinning at
her. "But what a way to go!"

"A man
after me own heart."

They lay there
together, side by side, until breathing calmed and heartbeats normalized.
Jeremiah propped himself up on an elbow to look down at her face and kiss her
sweetly on the lips. "Thank you," he said.

"For
what?"

"For
trusting me—giving me another chance."

She gave him a
long look, and he got the feeling she saw much more than the surface. Smiling,
she tapped a finger on his dimpled chin. "You know, I think you might just
be worth it."

After they had
dressed and settled themselves at the kitchen table with cups of coffee,
Jeremiah explained to Isla everything he had learned about the
Bruixi
through his research. He told her of the old book he'd found in Rome and of his
frustration at the slow progression of the translations. She sat in pensive
silence as he recounted most of the details about his visit with Mhairi.

"So she
believes that your life could be in danger if we don't figure out how you can
use and control your powers."

"Assuming
that I believe that I am one of these...
vigile
things—because I'm not
saying I do—how am I supposed to figure out how to fight these demons when all
we have to go on is your research and the word of a woman who suffers from
dementia?"