Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series) (32 page)

Ailill's keen ears picked up the sound of voices coming through the open kitchen window and she stepped soundlessly through the brush, to the tree line, listening. Bawdy laughter let her know that Annie had returned, with guests, male ones by the sound of it, the deeper rumbles of masculine voices conversing merrily made her smile to herself, feeling happier, more at ease than she had since her return. She wondered idly whom her mother had brought back with her, unable to get a sense of them, as if her way had been purposely blocked by a lead blanket; she turned away, paused briefly, eyes narrowed as they took in the  view.

Both Micah and Jacob watched from where they warily crouched in the shadows as she came toward them, stepping over and around deeply shadowed obstacles as silent and sure footed as a doe though her eyes never left the face of one or the other. It did not take much thought to figure out that the tiny woman was as at ease in these woods as her own father. Watching her was enough to make both men wonder exactly what other accomplishments she had under her belt; she never did say...

Micah struggled with a dizzy feeling of intoxication, his head still reeling from his encounter with Ailill, his sense of touch still heightened considerably by the drug, making him wish that she was ready now so that he could have her again. She hadn't said one word to him the whole way back and he wondered if she regretted her hasty actions back in the forest; if she regretted him.

Stepping up in front of the two silently brooding men, her athletic frame stiff, commanding as she stared down at them, Ailill glanced at the sparkling pond water and said one word.

"Strip."

Staring up at her in startlement, Jacob bit back the sarcastic retort he had been about to make as he saw the dark, unopposing gleam in her bright blue eyes. Turning his gaze on his twin, he laughed aloud at the look of shocked expectation on Micah's face; he turned back to Ailill with a wolfish grin.

"What did you do to him?"

"Nothing that is your concern, Jacob," she replied tartly. "He's stoned, because he cannot follow orders. I am glad to see that you can. It was only a wee headache, after all."

Jacob snorted with laughter, holding onto his ribs. "Can't follow orders!" he wheezed. "I'd like to see him not follow orders given by
you
, darlin'. Now, why do you want us to strip for you?"

"Not for me. For yourselves," she answered acerbically. "Because you are both filthy and I plan on makin' you presentable before I take you home...to my mother and her guests. Have ye not bathed once whilst I slept the days away?"

She turned away to grab her pack from the mare's rump as Micah began to undress; not because she was embarrassed; where she came from nudity, outright open sexuality in fact, was as natural as eating, as breathing; she had seen far too many bodies in every natural state while growing up, as well as while she studied
vis medicatrix naturae
the healing power of nature- to be ashamed by such a natural wonder as the human body. Ailill turned away simply to hide her thoughts. She could still feel Micah's touch on her flesh, still taste the tang of her own blood, of sweat and the medicine he had drunk, on her tongue; when she moved she could smell the scent of him, the musky, earthy smell of male sweat and seed, on her skin, in her hair and clothes. The stickiness of his essence between her legs made her feel both good and bad, for some strange reason. It was supposed to have been one of the brothers who finished the deed, after all; who opened her for the required duty of bearing the many children it would take to begin a brand new generation all on her own, as had been predetermined for her by so many. Who better than the quiet, sensitive Micah, who had claimed that he had saved himself for her all these years? Wanting him more than once was a natural desire; she could not help herself, in truth, no more than she could help any other type of hunger. Seeing Jacob made her feel almost guilty about it, though, his patience already beginning to wear thin. And then there was Tiernan...

Dropping her gaze to a grassy patch of earth, she kicked off her mocs and strode over to the bank, overcome with a sudden desire to feel clean. Pausing just long enough to drop her clothes at her feet, Ailill dove into the cool water, resurfacing near the opposite bank as the two very surprised, very naked men slowly eased themselves into the water, both staring at her intently the entire time with their strange dark blue eyes.

After they had washed, forced into helping each other with their long, dark hair when Ailill kept a purposeful distance from them both, she spread a blanket from her mare's saddlebag on the ground, directing them to sit. Though she had no towel to hand, it was warm enough that the water soon evaporated from the skin of all three; not that either man thought much about getting dry while she, shameless as always, remained as naked as they were. Their thoughts ran more along the lines of keeping her wet, in one way or another.

Neither one said anything but she noticed that they seemed more relaxed since meeting them in the forest, and though she wondered what had them so riled, she chose not to ask. Men were a curiosity all their own; fiends and brutes on one hand, soft and childlike on the other. She treaded lightly around them, careful what she said, how she came across. There was no help for her nearness though. After experiencing Micah's reaction to her, the need of her which, now that she recognized it for what it was,  he seemed to have all day, every day, Ailill thought she understood at least a wee bit better why both men stiffened at her touch. The brothers excited her in a very similar way.

When she began a careful study of him, questioning how he felt, how well he'd healed, Jacob balked to hide his fears, both of and for her, his own utter humiliation causing him to rudely taunt her with the stories of her being a witch that he had heard in town. When he should be thanking her for his very life, his cruel words came across as unduly harsh, his guilt too great, his shame hard to hide. It was easier to turn a cold shoulder to the hurt that rose up in her eyes. When she insisted that he'd heard only lies, that her help had been necessary, he insulted her vehemently, refusing her with a stubbornness that rivaled her own; frustrating her so, that she turned her back on him in obvious vexation, muttering strong oaths under her breath in Gaelic after he slapped her hand away from a small bit of puckered flesh near his heart, less healed than she would have liked though in just a few more days, she knew, it would be gone, as well. She wanted to say as much, to reassure the lad, but held her tongue.

Wondering superstitiously if she truly was a witch, one of the stories he had intentionally ignored, Micah watched the scene in complete silence, becoming angered by his brother's insolence, his crudity towards the woman who was, after all, only trying to help. He was certainly feeling bewitched by her. Knowing his twin as well as he knew himself, Micah easily picked up on the underlying attraction sparking between the two as they argued, knowing full well that if the stubborn girl persisted she was very likely to get one hell of a rude awakening regarding the inner workings of a man like Jacob. He could see the look in his twin's eyes; knew the same look was mirrored in his own. The desire to take her, forcibly, was unbelievably intense, even after his earlier release. At the exact moment that Jacob raised a hand to touch her, to show her exactly what her unabashed nudity was doing to his waning self-control after weeks of celibacy, Micah interrupted, skillfully drawing her attention to him instead, his head cocked to one side as he listened to the sounds coming from the house, a look of intense curiosity in eyes that stared into her own. "Sounds like Annie's got a guy for company tonight," he muttered in surprise.

"Seems so. Just wait 'til you meet him, lads," she said, almost certain it was her cousin's voice they heard briefly on the wind. "Declan's a braw, bonnie man. You'll like him, I've no doubt. You'll like them all, when ye meet them, when you go home. But him, especially. A man's man, is Declan Mackenzie. And, o' course, there would be much more help in ridding the world o' yon fiend. I truly cannot believe how Kiah Morna got away so quickly, nor the years you put up with his abuse! But my cousins will find him, I swear to you both."

Suddenly uncomfortable, she glanced down at her legs. Looking up from under her lashes, she could see a shift in their stance. No longer at ease as they had been, each had a look of wariness in his eyes as both stared down at her. Her hands came up slowly, resting lightly against the long planes of muscular thighs, her expression hidden behind the veil of auburn curls.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean any insult to you, only to
him
."

Her eyes were luminous pools when she raised her head to look at them, the light reflecting off the water behind the two men shimmered over the blue irises as if they glowed from within; the shadows painted across the chiseled planes of her face lent an unusual flavor to her features, making her look very much the pixie; like the fairy queen shown in Micah's drawings. But no... they'd, both, already decided that what had happened so far could not have been real. It was easier to grasp at the threads of denial; a choice each had made, had mutually agreed to do, as they made their way through the forest to find the girl and bring her back to where
they
believed she belonged. As if in defense of their choice, the dark eyes took on a slightly glazed look when they settled on Ailill's fiery head, the strangeness of it lost on her as her mind wandered.

Thoughts of her earlier interlude with Micah filled her head; she attributed it to the fact that every time she looked up she saw him double. The two looked so alike that it was difficult to tell them apart; she found herself wondering if they were as alike in other ways. The only difference she had noticed thus far was that while Micah was shy and sensitive, Jacob was outspoken and a little bit mean; it was an act, she knew, but he'd honed it to perfection. Her eyes sought Micah's and she realized with a start that her body, so newly awakened to the promise of what desire could give, was responding to them both, her fingers moving of their own accord to explore the smooth, taut skin beneath them, sliding closer to the heat emanating from under twin whorls of dark curls. Taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, Ailill decided on a new tactic for bringing the two more willingly to her side; the heat of them was immense, the growing shafts filling her small hands, the echoed pulsebeat in perfect rhythm under her sensitive fingertips.

"I ken a many things about both o' you," she whispered, flexing the muscles in her forearms with strength and surprising dexterity. "Things which you'd not say. But I'd like very much to ken...mmm...well, everything. Do you understand?"

Taking hold of her hand to correct the movement, Jacob smiled wickedly down into her upturned face. "The real question here," he answered through his teeth, his voice sharp, cunning, "is do
you
understand, darlin'? Do you even know what you've gotten yourself into?"

Eyes widening in sudden realization, Ailill knew instantly that she had fallen into a perfectly laid trap set by not one, but both of the brothers. She turned her gaze on Micah and saw that his expression mirrored his twin's exactly; the look of a man who knows exactly what he wants, a dark intensity that made her gasp, try to pull away. She found her hands locked into place, bound by long work-callused fingers; the hands engulfing her own moved with purpose, intent on forcing her to finish what she had started; a punishment, of sorts, because she'd nearly left them for another.

"Y'all are outnumbered, Abby darlin'. Will you fight, when we take you, or will you cry?" Micah's voice was stony, his eyes gleamed with ferocity and something else which Ailill could not put a name to. He reached over and pinched her nipple, harder than was necessary, making her yelp in painful surprise.

Jacob laughed and followed his twin's lead. "Don't play games with us, little girl," he commanded, pinching her again. "You think you can flaunt your hot little body in our faces, touch us as you please, and
we
get nothin' from you? Or were y'all plannin' on leavin' me hangin' again, while Micah gets it all? Well guess what..." Yanking her roughly towards him, Jacob kissed her hard, probing deep with his tongue until she nearly choked.

Coughing and sputtering, Ailill barely had time to catch her breath as Micah gave her similar treatment. "I gave you mine," he murmured, pulling away at last. Gazing blankly into her eyes, he added, "and you gave me yours, but Jacob ain't never had such sweetness, never tasted such bliss, and we share everything, darlin'; always have, always will. It's two to one, beautiful, and we aim to love ya as one man. Think of it as a goodbye, for when you actually
do
leave us behind." His grip was like steel, fingers digging deep into her shoulder momentarily before releasing her with a jerk.

"No. I don't want to lie with you right now," she whispered, appalled. "I ca...can't, be shared like you say. It is... quite disgustin', what you say, and I will not." Her chin came up, defiant. "I refuse."