Dark Warrior [5] Midnight's Kiss Page 11

  Arran snagged her arm as her screech reached him. He dug in his claws to hold him in place as Ronnie’s other hand came up to grasp his hand.

  “Don’t let me fall,” she said softly.

  There were no hysterics, no screaming with his Ronnie. But he saw the fear reflected in her hazel depths. “Never,” he said.

  He could easily get them up over the side, but then she’d want to know how he did it. Arran wasn’t ready to explain his immortality, his powers, or the fact that he was a Warrior.

  Nor could he continue to allow her to hang suspended over a hole in the earth.

  “I’m going to swing you up,” he said.

  She nodded her head jerkily. Arran didn’t waste any time after that. He quickly swung her side to side with enough force to get back on solid ground.

  Once he released her, he heard her gasp before she landed. Arran put his bare feet against the earth and used his legs and arms to jump himself onto land.

  He landed with his knees bent and his hands on the ground. When he lifted his head, it was to find Ronnie looking at him as she lay on her side and propped up on her elbow.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, and hurried to her.

  He knelt beside her and smoothed back her hair from her face. Somehow the damned bun still held and he wanted to rip the pins out so he could feel the tresses run over his fingers.

  Arran tilted her head first one way and then the other, looking for scrapes or bruises. He inspected her hands before he pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and looked at her arms.

  “I’m fine,” she said shakily.

  Her words halted him. This wasn’t the woman he’d come to know. Even after the accident the night before when she’d been in shock, her voice had been strong.

  He cupped her face and made her look him in the eyes. “You’re safe now.”

  She blinked slowly, her pupils dilated so he could barely see the hazel of her eyes. “Arran.”

  He found himself leaning toward her tempting lips, his body urging him to taste her, savor her.

  Claim her.

  Somehow her hands moved so that she gripped his arms as if he were the only thing anchoring her to this world.

  Arran moved slowly, the need urgent and consuming. He saw her eyelids flutter shut and her lips part on a sigh. Never had he wanted a woman’s kiss more.

  Never had he craved a woman more.

  But that hunger caught him off guard. He didn’t place his lips on hers as he closed the distance. He brushed his nose against hers, her lips not a breath away.

  Arran could stand no more of the torture. He closed his eyes and, with a groan, kissed her.

  Her lips were soft, pliant, and sweeter than any wine. He tried to keep things slow, but that one taste enflamed his desire to new, unparalleled heights.

  All he could feel, hear, and taste was Ronnie.

  At the first parting of her lips, he slipped his tongue inside and found hers. He moaned again when she not just accepted him, but kissed him in return.

  He could sense her desire, and it burned, scorched … seared.

  Arran wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against him as he deepened the kiss. Her nails dug into his back, a soft moan reaching him.

  He was contemplating taking her right there in full view of anyone who might be looking. That’s when he knew he had to pull back.

  It went against everything inside him, but somehow he ended the kiss and placed his forehead on hers. She was breathing just as hard as he. He wasn’t ready to release her, and by the way she clung to him, neither was she.

  All Arran knew was that with one taste, nothing and no one would do after Ronnie. Somehow, someway he had to have her.

  With one kiss she had gotten in his blood.

  With one kiss she had found his soul.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTEEN

  Ronnie touched her lips. It had been several hours since Arran saved her, kissed her … and left her. Well, he really hadn’t left. He was in his tent, but that’s not where she wanted him.

  She wanted him with her. Holding her. Caressing her. Stroking her.

  His kiss had been all she’d hoped and feared. He’d stolen her breath and stirred flames of desire that now blazed within her, fiercely and hotly.

  After such a scorching kiss that awakened something inside her, she hadn’t been ready for it to end. It had taken her longer than she wanted to admit to emerge from her daze of the kiss to realize Arran had taken her to her tent.

  Even then she couldn’t think past the need coursing through her to comprehend that he was gone before she’d even uttered one word.

  Ronnie had stumbled to her feet and rushed to the entrance to make sure Arran wasn’t leaving the site. She’d sighed, and then walked back to her cot once she’d seen him enter his tent.

  “Oh, God.”

  She was in so much trouble. She’d known, instinctively, that Arran wasn’t going to be good for her. He was the type of man she’d make a fool out of herself over. The type that she’d set aside everything, even her own work, just to be with.

  At one time she’d believed Max to be that man, but always her work had come before him. Always. It wasn’t the case with Arran, and that was after only one damned kiss!

  Ronnie fell back on the cot and let out a long sigh. One kiss. One soul-stirring, exciting, moving, amazing kiss. A kiss she’d waited her entire life to receive.

  A kiss she thought she’d never get.

  A kiss she’d never forget.

  She should be at the dig, looking at why the ground had given out beneath her, but all Ronnie could think about was the kiss.

  Her eyes closed as she remembered how his hands had held her gently, but firmly. How he’d made sure she was unharmed before his golden gaze had darkened and his head lowered to hers.

  Those wonderful lips of his had been soft and insistent, tender and unrelenting. He’d claimed her lips with the skillfulness and talent of a man who knew not just how to kiss, but how to turn a woman inside out.

  She’d forgotten her own damned name. “How does that happen?” she asked herself.

  “Ronnie!” Andy shouted as he burst into her tent. “There’s a collapsed part of the dig at section four.”

  “I know,” Ronnie said and rose up on her elbows. “I was there when it happened.”

  Andy frowned. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. Arran caught me before I fell.”

  “It’s a good thing, too. It must be a twenty-foot drop to the bottom.”

  Ronnie sat up, her mind thinking back to when Arran caught her. She’d been so wrapped up in the kiss, she forgot all about her near death experience.

  “Twenty feet,” she murmured.

  She mentally put herself back at the site. She’d been digging, wondering what lay beneath her feet when the ground had lurched. A scream had lodged in her throat, but there had been no time to make a sound.

  And then someone took her arm.

  “Arran.”

  “What?” Andy asked.

  Ronnie ignored him as she thought back to when she looked up to find Arran holding her. What had he been gripping to keep him anchored? She’d never been so scared before, but he’d been calm.

  Almost too calm.

  He hadn’t called out for assistance in getting her up. In fact, he’d swung her up himself. She knew how strong he was by seeing his muscles, but how many men could catch her and then swing her up without help? How many men could make it look easy and without breaking a sweat?

  None.

  She’d been so grateful to be back on solid ground that it had taken her a minute to look up, but when she did, Arran had been there. How had he gotten up so quickly?

  Ronnie stood and pushed past Andy as she stalked to the section. A memory that was blurry, stirred. She wasn’t sure if what she remembered was correct, since she’d been so frightened, and then aroused to the point of forgetting everything else around her.

  With her hear
t pounding, she kept her eyes on the ground until she found them. Five marks slashed into the ground about three feet from where she’d fallen.

  The marks ended at the edge and grew deeper, as if someone had held on there.

  Ronnie stretched her fingers out and placed them where the marks were. The slashes were thin and went at least two inches into the ground.

  What could make that kind of mark?

  “Something wrong?”

  She froze at Arran’s deep voice. Slowly she lifted her head to find him standing in front of her. “How did you save me?”

  “Luck.”

  He always had an answer for everything, Ronnie realized. She stood and looked at the portion of earth that was now gone. A good four feet from the arch had fallen through.

  “And these marks?” she asked, and pointed to the ones she’d been looking at.

  “My fingers as I dug them into the ground for something to hold on to.”

  There was part truth to his words, but not the entire truth. She nodded, allowing him to assume that she believed him. There was a connection between the marks, Arran, and the ease with which he’d saved her.

  She just couldn’t put her finger on it yet.

  “Ronnie, look,” Andy said as he peered over where the earth had given way.

  She squatted beside him and looked to where he pointed. “I don’t believe it. The door to the arch is revealed.”

  “And barred shut,” Arran pointed out from her other side.

  The wooden planks over the door didn’t deter Ronnie. “The wood has been underground for God only knows how long. They’ll be easy to break.”

  “Aye, but should you break them?”

  She turned to look at Arran and noticed the way his jaw was clenched and a muscle ticced. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “You know as much as I do. I’m simply stating the obvious. How many burial mounds have you come across that had the door barred?”

  She swallowed and shrugged. “None.”

  “My point.” He looked at the door again and frowned. “The door is larger than most I’ve seen. And it’s barricaded. Asking you no’ to go in would be like asking the sun no’ to shine.”

  Ronnie smiled tightly. “That’s right. So don’t bother.”

  “Then let me ask you no’ to go inside without me.”

  Her smile dropped as she stared at him. “Why?”

  For several seconds he seemed to try to find the right words. Then he said, “Because I may be the only one who can help if something … bad happens.”

  “Who are you?” she demanded, her patience wearing thin. “You wanted to tell me, so tell me now.”

  He glanced away and licked his lips. “I’m here to help. I have experience with unsavory things happening within burial mounds. If this is a burial mound,” he muttered as he looked at the door again.

  “What else could it be? You’re the one who first suggested that’s what it was.”

  “Because I thought it was. Now, I’m no’ so sure. Just as you know there’s something in there. You’ve been hunting for it.”

  She stilled, her blood turning cold at his words. “What do you mean?” Her voice was low, her words barely whispered.

  “You know what I mean.” There was no anger or disgust in his words, just simple truth. “I know you use magic, Ronnie. I can feel your magic. You doona have to hide being a Druid with me.”

  “Druid?” She frowned. Where did he get off thinking she was a Druid? But more important, how did he know she used her abilities?

  The way he looked at her, as if he understood her, seemed to release the note that had been sitting in her chest for years.

  “Aye, lass. A Druid. I thought you knew.”

  Ronnie looked down at the structure she’d just excavated. Was it magic she used? Was that what her abilities really were? And did that make her a Druid, as Arran suggested.

  “Um, Ronnie,” Andy broke into the conversation. “About section two. They’ve been digging for weeks now. There’s nothing there.”

  “Give it one more day, Andy. I’ll reevaluate the situation tomorrow.”

  “Don’t forget you leave the day after for Edinburgh.”

  “Shit.” She’d forgotten the party. Again.

  “It’s been on your schedule for six months now. You made me add in an extra day in the city so you could find a dress and get your hair done.”

  Like she needed to be reminded how awful her hair was. She cut her eyes to Andy and glared at him.

  “Sorry,” he murmured, and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

  “No, it’s fine. It’s lack of sleep that has me snapping.” Ronnie glanced over to discover Arran staring at her.

  He waited until Andy walked away before he asked, “You know there is nothing in section two. Why keep digging there?”

  She exhaled and took the biggest leap of faith she’d ever made in her entire life. She told him the truth. “I have to. If I always find something wherever I dig, people begin to question me.”

  “So you make sure to dig in places where there is nothing.”

  “Yes.” Her hands were shaking from divulging that piece of information.

  To her surprise, Arran placed a hand atop hers. “I’ll never repeat your secret.”

  “And your secret?” she prompted.

  “What makes you think I have one?”

  She shrugged, liking the feel of him touching her. Now, if only he’d kiss her again. “You said you could feel my magic. I gather there is more you aren’t telling me.”

  “Did you know you were a Druid?”

  “No.”

  “Then once I tell you all you need to know of the Druids, I’ll share my secret.”

  His hand squeezed hers before he stood and walked away, leaving Ronnie’s mind so full of questions that it dimmed the song of the artifacts.

  * * *

  Arran held the rope that slowly lowered Ronnie down into the earth. He hadn’t wanted her to go. He’d have begged had it helped, but he’d seen that stubborn set of her chin and knew it was pointless. At least she’d taken Andy down with her.

  He allowed slack in the rope once she reached bottom so she could walk around. It took her and Andy about thirty minutes before they yelled up that others could come down.

  Arran kept a hold of Ronnie’s rope so he could pull her out as quickly as possible if something happened. He had a bad feeling every time he looked at the arch. There was something inside the structure that needed to stay inside. The magic he felt wasn’t tainted with evil, at least none that he could sense. But that didn’t mean anything should come out of the structure.

  Whoever had constructed the arched building had made sure of sealing it with boards crisscrossing over the door. If these were the items taken from Edinburgh on their way to London, then something must have happened here that stopped the shipment and had others build the structure around the items.

  And it wasn’t just built around the items, but dug into the earth and then buried. Why?

  “To keep it locked away from the world.”

  “What?” the man beside him asked.

  Arran shook his head and flexed his hand. He needed Ronnie away from the arch immediately. But with ten other archeological students making their way down to her, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

  The best Arran could do was keep an eye on her.

  That’s exactly what he did. Every hour she was down in the ground was like an eternity. He hadn’t given her a choice about skipping lunch either. She’d managed to scarf down the sandwich in record time and get back in the ground.

  The longer she spent down there, and the longer Arran stared at the arch and door, the more he knew it shouldn’t be opened. He had one more day probably to convince her not to open it before they cleared the dirt and debris out of the way so Ronnie could get to the door.

  At the end of the day, Arran made sure Ronnie was safely away from the section before he set up watch and
began to call MacLeod Castle to fill them in on what was going on—when he felt Ronnie’s magic.

  “I thought you were resting,” he said without looking up from his hands.

  There was a sigh before she came to stand beside him. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m too excited about the find. Besides, you have some information about Druids that I want.”

  “I’m no’ sure this is the time for that conversation.”

  Her brows rose as she faced him. “We’re going to make time. You can’t tell me I’m a Druid and just leave it at that. I need answers, Arran.”

  He stared into her hazel depths and nodded. “Aye, lass, that you do. It’s no’ something you want people to overhear, however.”

  “They’re exhausted and staying away from me for fear that I’ll put them back to work. It’s the perfect time.”

  “All right,” he said, and put away his phone. “Long ago—”

  “Ronnie!” Andy shouted. “Ronnie! Pete’s on your phone. He says it’s important!”

  Arran watched her debate whether to take the call or not. “The story can wait. Go see what Pete needs.”

  “I’ll be back,” she promised before she stalked away.

  Arran watched the sway of her hips, remembering all too well the taste of her. The kiss had kept him away, the desire making him ache.

  He couldn’t have stopped from kissing her if the fate of the world had depended upon him. He was amazed that he held off as long as he had, but she’d nearly died. That, apparently, was the catalyst that sent him over the edge.

  After he’d ensured she wasn’t injured, his body simply refused to do anything other than take her in his arms. Even now, it was difficult to keep his hands from her.

  At that moment his phone rang and Broc’s name popped up on the screen. “Broc.”

  “Arran. I’m calling because of Sonya.”

  Arran squeezed his eyes shut. Sonya’s magic as a Druid wasn’t just the ability to heal. She was also able to communicate with the trees. That magic had saved her life. “The trees.”

  Broc sighed. “Aye. They speak of something terrible coming.”

  “Did they say what? Is it another evil?”