To Ride A Púca (30 page)

“Certainly not. Ye’re a beautifully built lass. Tis just that yer jabs help ye float,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Donal!”

She let her body sink under the surface and splashed water at him.

Laughing, they swam circles around each other as they splashed and teased. His big hands threw a lot more water than she could. Not to be outdone, she lunged forward, placed both hands upon his head, and dunked him under. He didn’t come back up and she couldn’t feel him in the water around her. She held as still as she could and tried to look down into the water. The rocky lake bottom about ten feet down was all she could see.

Hands wrapped around her feet and a powerful pressure launched her up, out of the water, and tossed her. A squeal slipped from her as she flew a few feet into the air before falling back into the water. She surfaced to find Donal backstroking lazily toward the shore, laughing so hard it was a wonder he stayed afloat.

“How did ye do that?” she asked.

Donal kept laughing and swimming away. His arms worked rhythmically in a perfect backstroke, legs barely kicking. Water cascaded over his dark skin. It plastered his short linen drawers to him, revealing curves of his body that made her heart race. The lake no longer seemed cold enough.

Pushing her face down into the water to help cool it, she swam after him. Pouring a bit of power into her arms, she used it to help her catch up and swim alongside him. It was easier to cool her blush when all she had to look at was his face. An adorable smirk curved one edge of his full lips upward and he winked when he caught her looking.

The shore loomed close by. Had they really been swimming that fast? How had he been able to keep pace with her while she’d been using her power? It shouldn’t have been possible. Letting her feet sink, she felt the rocky lake bottom beneath her. Chest barely above the water, she stood and watched as Donal backstroked a slow, lazy circle around her. That adorable smirk didn’t leave his face until he stopped and stood before her. The surface of the water lapped at his waist, drawing her eye down to his belly button and the hem of his drawers just below it. She stopped breathing as her eyes traveled up his dark chest, settling on the knotwork necklace that rested between his defined pectorals.

Now that she looked closer at the necklace she was certain it was almost identical to Bren’s. There was an extra ring of knots around the center knot that made it slightly different. Aside from that, the craftsmanship was the same.

“Where did ye get this?” she asked.

Though his lips pulled up into a smile, there was a deep sadness in his eyes. “From me da. It means—”

“Family,” she interrupted.

“
Táteaghlaugh
,” he said as he wrapped his hand around hers.

Yes, family
.

The warmth of his hand, coupled with the way his voice deepened when he spoke in the old tongue, sent a shiver through her body. There had been something else she wanted to ask but it was swept away in a flood of desire when Donal let go of her hands and slid his arms around her waist.

His chest warmed against hers and she realized it was his power rising. In it were all the things she held dear, home, a wonderful, fierce spirit, and love. Her eyes locked onto his and she couldn’t look away. It wasn’t the lovely dark green color or the long lashes, it was the light that shone from within.

“I feel like I’ve known ye me whole life, how is that?” she asked.

She looked up into his eyes and was swept into their dark green vortex. It felt as though she was touching his soul and it was the most beautiful, wild thing she had ever felt. Without thinking about it, her arms snaked up around his neck. Her power surged within her, reaching out for his. It was a strange, wonderful feeling.

“I feel the same way, and tis more than just the stories yer brother told me. There’s somethin’ about ye that pulls at me and won’t let go,” he said.

It was as though he had plucked the words from her mind. “Exactly,” she agreed.

Those beautiful eyes closed, long lashes seeming to brush his cheeks. Even without the vortex of his gaze, she was still drawn to him. Using her grip about his neck, and the weightlessness the water gave her, she pulled herself up to meet him as he bent down. Their lips brushed and the most amazing tingling poured over Neala and spread down through the rest of her body. The kiss deepened as they clung to one another. Gently, Donal parted her lips with his and his power filled her mouth. It was warm, rich, and sweet, but it was also like air; something she had to have.

Unbidden and uncontrollable, Neala’s power rose within her, surging up to meet with his. Even if she could have stopped it, she didn’t want to. It felt like she was at the mercy of a force of nature; her own. She was caught up in the perfect storm of physical and mental sensations as their power mingled. Bumps rose along every bit of her skin, making her acutely aware of her thin tunic being the only thing between their upper bodies.

Chest heaving, Donal drew back and leaned his forehead to hers. She kept her hands locked tight around his neck, not wanting him to pull away any further. Considering how pushy Bren always was, it surprised her that Donal could be so restrained. Surprised, and delighted.

“What was that?” Neala asked in a breathy voice that made her blush.

He drew back just enough to look at her. There was a definite glow behind his green eyes, she was sure of it now. Not only did she see it, but she could feel it. Her power was still connected to his, as if by the two mingling they had somehow become a part of each other.

“That was the bondin’,” he said in a hesitant voice.

“But I’m already bonded to an Order.”

A shy look came over Donal and he glanced down. “Not the Order bondin’, the pair bondin’. I didn’t mean for it to happen, I only meant to kiss ye.” His voice was the barest of a whisper.

Neala’s brows pulled down in confusion as she tried to make sense of his words. “Wait, do ye mean, like a couple?” Surprisingly, the idea didn’t bother her. On some level she thought it should, but not even thoughts of Bren could bring it to. Maybe it was because she was wrapped in a warm blanket of Donal’s power, or maybe it was because he was such a gentleman where Bren wasn’t.

He moved a strand of hair off her brow and slowly ran the back of his hand down the side of her face. She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttered closed. Like the sweetest of aphrodisiacs, she craved his touch, both of his skin and his power. How could she feel this way after one kiss?

“Exactly like that,” he said, his deep voice rolling over her in a way that made her breath catch.

Neala was fairly certain her ma would hate the idea of her bonding with Donal much more than a rival clan member. But if her power had already chosen for her, was there any going back? And more importantly, did she even want to?

“But how is this possible, ye aren’t a druid. I thought me power would only bond me to another druid.”

Eyes flicking away, Donal chewed on his bottom lip. “That’s not exactly true. Yer power can bond to any magical creature.”

“And ye’re such a creature?”

He straightened and determination filled his eyes when he looked back at her. “
Tá me
—”

Rocks tumbled down the embankment leading to the lake shore, punctuated by a colorful curse in a thickly accented voice that cut off Donal’s words.

“By the valkries wings Neala, what in hell?” Tyr said as he skidded to a stop on the rocky shore.

The pain in his voice made Neala cringe but the look of betrayal in his eyes was so much worse. Still, she was reluctant to pull away from Donal. He was her touchstone and she feared that if she let go of him she’d spin out of control.

“Tyr, I…” she couldn’t finish because she had no idea what to say.

Twice in as many days Tyr had caught her in such a state. Heat burned her face at the realization. What must he think of her? The fierce glare he shot Donal carried no power but held plenty of threat. Neala thought she saw the glimmer of moisture in his eyes before he spun and stormed off toward the forest path. Dredging up all the strength of will she could, Neala moved back from Donal. Her energy pulled at his and his at her, making it even harder.

“I’m sorry, I have to go talk to him,” she said.

Though his expression was stoic, Donal nodded and let go of her. Her power slowed her more than the water of the lake, resisting each step she took away from him. The pull eased a little once she reached the shore but the desire to return to his side remained. Fighting the instinct to glance over her shoulder, she forced her eyes forward as she ran after Tyr. Her feet flew across the rocky shore and down the pine-needle strewn path, catching up to Tyr in only moments. When he refused to stop, she stepped in front of him and used a touch of her power to push against him.

Eyes narrowing, he stopped and took a step back as if repelled by her. The pain in his eyes stabbed at her heart.

“Don’t you dare tell me that wasn’t what it looked like.” The anger that punctuated each word made her cringe.

“I won’t,” she said in a voice that sounded as small as it felt.

Tyr’s glossy blue eyes bore into her, the cords of his jaw muscles standing out as he ground his teeth. “Really, you’re not even going to try then?”

Her mouth opened but the words wouldn’t come. She had no idea what to say to make it better. Shaking his head, Tyr spun away from her. Before he could storm off she grabbed his arm. He tried to wrench away from her and she had to pour power into her hand to keep her grip. Rage contorted his face when he turned back to her.

“It seems I’m destined to find you in another man’s arms. First the Irishman, which I get. I don’t like it, but I get it.” He moved closer as he spat the words at her, forcing her back a step.

“And now, a slave. Really Neala, a slave? What in hell? Would you have preferred I try to have my way with you? Would that have made you notice me?”

Suddenly Donal was between them. “I don’t think I like what ye’re implyin’,” he said in a tone that vibrated with power and warning.

They stood chest to chest, eyes boring into one another. The contrast between the two of them was startling, like sunlight and darkness. Though they were nearly the same brutish size, they couldn’t have been more different.

Tyr’s lips pulled up into a humorless smile. “Fine then, I won’t imply, I’ll come out and say it. The woman gets around so you’d better satisfy her fast, slave.”

Donal’s back went rigid and his hands tightened into fists. His lips curled back from his teeth which were clenched tight together. “How dare ye speak about Neala that way.” Green power crackled along his dark skin.

The tension in the air was bordering on exploding, Neala could feel it deep in her power. Not wanting a repeat of the other night, she forced her way between them. With a hand on each of their chests, she felt like she was stuck between two boulders that were about to collide.

“Stop, please stop,” she begged them.

Relaxing beneath her hand, Donal nodded. Tyr however, puffed up and shifted his furious gaze to her. Through the anger she caught a glimpse of the pain he was trying to hide. Knowing she had put that pain there, again, made her feel sick. He shook his head and looked down, blond curls falling forward and obscuring his face.

“I’m just a barbaric Dane, I should have known that’s all you would see. I’m an idiot,” he said before turning and walking away.

Heart aching more with each step he took, she tried to get her numb legs to move and couldn’t. “
Níl
. I’m the idiot,” she mumbled.

Grumbling something unintelligible, Tyr sped up. When he was out of sight, Donal stepped beside her. That he didn’t try to block her path meant everything to her, yet she couldn’t go after Tyr. Not without explaining.

“I know how bad that seems, me knowin’ a Dane and all—”

Donal put a finger on her lips and stopped her words.

“Ye don’t have to explain. Yer ma had to heal him, I know. And ye’re a good person, of course ye would care about him,” he said.

Head dropping into her hands, Neala mumbled. “Does everyone know? As if things aren’t bad enough.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve complicated ye’re life more,” he said.

Just the sight of him and the feel of his energy—like the warmth of a fire on a cold night—was enough to take away some of her pain. But the guilt remained. She didn’t want to hurt Tyr, she liked him, a lot. Looking into Donal’s eyes though, she found she couldn’t regret kissing him. What she felt for Donal was instantaneous, and pulled at her very being. It couldn’t be denied.

“I’m not.” Giving him her full attention, she grabbed both of his hands. “I’m not sure what we are to each other, or why I’m so drawn to ye. But I want to find out.”

The creases around Donal’s eyes relaxed a bit and he almost smiled. “So do I.”

Remembering Tyr’s words, she flushed. “What he said… it’s not true.”

With a finger, Donal lifted her chin. The look he gave her, so full of patience and longing, wiped her guilt away.

“I know. Ye’re an amazin’ lass with more honor and self-respect than I’ve seen in any other. We’ll take things slow, figure it out as we go,” he said.

Her knees grew weak and she had to cling to his hands to keep her balance. It was an enormous relief to know that not all lads would expect her to lie with them so quickly. Bren was the first who had ever taken any interest in her and after Tyr’s words she had begun to fear they may all be that way.

She smiled at Donal. “I’d like that. Will ye meet me tomorrow?”

“I’d love to,” he said.

Hand in hand, they walked back and got their clothes. Neither spoke much on the walk but it was a comfortable silence. As they neared the end of the forest the grunts and mock battle cries of Tyr’s daily work out sent tension singing through Neala. Fingers tightening around her hand, Donal stopped.

“I should go. I don’t think I could resist the urge to teach the Dane a lesson if I saw him again. And besides, I’m not sure how ye’re parents would feel about a black warrior friend of Lorcan’s hangin’ around their daughter.”