Page 23 of Shamrocked
“What,” he rasped out, “understanding?”
Warwick’s hand playfully stroked down to my knee, his other hand toying with my hair. “I won’t do more until Doran is free to join us.”
“Do more.” Aidan strode over and planted his hands on the arms of the office chair, leaning down close into our space again. He gave Warwick a hard look meant to intimidate, but my leprechaun smirked at him and lifted my hand to his mouth. He kissed each knuckle like it was a priceless artifact. “What have you already done?”
My heartbeat quickened, but not because I was afraid. Aidan glowered at me, his lips curled in a vicious snarl, but his pulse hammered so hard in his throat that I could see it. I could almost hear his thundering heart.
I focused on his lips. “I kissed him.”
He wasn’t going to make it easy for me. A man like him never would. But he didn’t push up in disgust and walk away, either.
I cupped his cheeks, smoothing my fingers over the straining line of his jaws. I rubbed my thumbs in the harsh frown lines, easing away some of the fury burning in his eyes. But the emotion that replaced his anger made tears burn in my eyes. Agony. Hopeless, desperate agony.
“If I let you in, I can’t lose you. I can’t. I won’t survive it. I’ll surrender to Balor myself and hand my weapons over to his minions so they can chop me into a thousand pieces. I won’t be reborn again.”
I brushed my lips against his and his hands clenched on the arms of the office chair so hard that plastic cracked. “What happened to the last treasurekeeper?”
“She died. And it was my fault.”
13
He straightened, without getting his full kiss, and averted his gaze, as if he couldn’t bear to even look at me.
“What happened?” I asked softly.
“I was jealous. I wanted our treasurekeeper to myself. Balor used that jealousy to entrap Doran. He surrendered to buy her time to escape, but the demons fucking killed her anyway and we lost Doran too. It feels like it happened yesterday, even though it was nearly five hundred years ago. We’ve been reborn several times since, and we fail. We fail and we die, because we can’t free Doran. Without him, we’re nothing, and it’s entirely my fault.”
Unknowingly, I’d put him in the very worst position imaginable. I’d made him jealous, again, by bringing Warwick into the mix. But I couldn’t bring myself to regret that decision.
“It’s too late for me to give up Warwick to have you,” I whispered, my throat aching. But he had to have the words. He had to understand the depths of my emotions.
Warwick didn’t say a word, but his hand tightened on mine and I felt a surge of emotion from him. Not words, exactly, but relief and desire and overwhelming, aching need to hold me close and never let me go.
He was the only reason I’d been able to get this far. The only reason I had any hope at all of finding Doran. So if Aidan couldn’t deal with that…
Aidan nodded, still not looking at me. “Perhaps if I’d not been a dick that night in the pub and spoken to you then, it might not be too late now.”
“You knew, then? And you didn’t say anything?”
His lip curled with disgust. “Aye, I knew. I was a fucking coward. I saw you staring at that statue and I felt the stirring of magic in my bones. But you laughed and smiled at the fucking leprechaun, and I couldn’t bear to watch you die. I thought I could avoid you and keep you safe. Keep you out of our mess. But then you came to see us.”
“And she stole your ride,” Ivarr finally spoke, pulling my attention to the other two treasures. “That was fucking brilliant. The one sure way to piss him off and get him to chase.”
Now that he had my attention, Ivarr strode closer and went down on one knee before me. "You haven't touched me yet, treasurekeeper. Do you not feel my pull?"
Using the tip of my index finger, I traced the neatly trimmed line of beard along his jaw and around his chin and mouth, then back up the other side. His eyes gleamed like dark-gold honey, sucking me in. Making me wonder if his lips would taste as sweet. I leaned closer and his breath sighed out, his chin tipping up to me. I didn't kiss him immediately, but brushed my cheek against his, inhaling the scent of his skin. He even smelled like thick golden honey, sticky sweet and warmed by the sun.
He chuckled, a warm, inviting sound that made me want to laugh too, even though I had no idea why. "Honey doesn't have a smell."
My eyes flew open and I backed up enough to see his face. "You can hear my thoughts too?"
"We all can. We've been touched by Faerie. We've walked the green, green hills of Tír na nÓg and tasted the nectar of the old gods. We aren't human any longer."
I shot a glare at Aidan's back, but Ivarr cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips.
"Don't be mad at him. We have to listen to hear, and he quit listening a very long time ago."
"I was fucking sick of hearing Doran bellow in my fucking ear," Aidan retorted, but without real heat. He even turned around, watching as Ivarr and I touched each other for the first time.
