Heart of the Druid Laird (9 page)

“I seem to remember having this exact conversation before in another restaurant. You didn’t answer me then either.” With a sigh of exasperation, Sidney turned her attention back to the menu.

For a moment, Dermot pretended they really were on a date, and that Sidney wanted him as much as he wanted her. Gods, how had he come to this?

Their waiter returned and placed their wine and the appetizers on the table. Dermot slid the dishes closer to Sidney. “Have a shrimp. The crab cakes are excellent, as well.”

“No thanks.”

“I ordered these for you, lass. Can you no’ relax and enjoy them?”

“For me?” She made a huffing sound. “I don’t recall being asked what I’d like, and it’s a good thing this isn’t a real date.”

Dermot took a shrimp and dredged it through the cocktail sauce, his irritation rising. “Why is that?” He brought the shrimp to his mouth.

“Because I’m deathly allergic to shellfish. If this were a real date, and you ate that shrimp, there would be no goodnight kiss.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “My lips would swell up like sausages.”

“Gods.” He put the shrimp down and searched the room to signal their waiter. “Why did you no’ say something?”

“Why didn’t you bother to ask?” Her gaze locked with his. “None of this is for me. You’ve come to Minnesota with your own agenda, and it doesn’t involve what I want in the least.”

Her large brown eyes were filled with questions as she studied him—questions and distrust. Was it too much to ask, an hour or two enjoying each other’s company while sharing a meal? Their waiter arrived and Dermot handed him the appetizers. “Please have these delivered to room 312 with my compliments.” He turned to Sidney as the waiter walked away. “My men share the suite.”

“Why are you here? You promised to tell me everything.”

Dermot rubbed his temples. The hell with it. She wouldn’t let it go, and he might as well begin the tale. “I’m here because we knew each other in your previous life. We’ve unfinished business with each other.”

She started to scoot her chair back. “I told you if you didn’t tell me the truth I’d leave.”

He reached across the table and caught her hands before she could escape. “Stay.” Energy gathered inside him, magic and temptation. Why not compel her? No harm would come to Sidney, and he’d release her right after dinner. An hour or two of pleasure after almost two millennia, hardly worth a twinge of conscience.

She tried to tug her hands away, and he gently rubbed circles into her palms with his thumbs. He looked deep into her angry brown eyes and let the magic flow into his voice, changing the pitch to one that would mesmerize. “Sidney,” he spoke softly. “You will relax now, and let everything go. The only thing important to you this evening is enjoying my company and a fine meal.”

“Enjoy your company and a fine meal,” she parroted, settling back into the seat. “Yes.”

Satisfied, Dermot smiled and lifted his wine glass. “Excellent vintage, try it.”

She obeyed without a word, and nodded after she sipped. “Yes, it’s very good.” She frowned and began to scratch the palm of her left hand. “I’m getting hives. Must be from your touching the shrimp and then holding my hands.”

“Och, I’m sorry, lass. I forgot.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I have allergy pills and an EpiPen with me all the time.” She rose from her chair. “I’m going to go wash.”

Could this evening get any worse?
Dermot rubbed his face in his hands before it occurred to him he’d just spread the allergen all over. “Bloody hell.”

The moment Sidney returned, men in the bar and several in the back room turned to watch her. She looked his way. A lovely smile lit her face as she moved with regal elegance toward their table. Dermot’s chest swelled. Every man in the place wanted her, and she had eyes only for him. He stood once she’d reached their table. “If you will excuse me, I’ll go wash now as well. When I return, can we begin anew?”

“Of course. I’ll take an allergy pill for the hives, Dermot. No harm done.”

She gave him a look filled with warmth, sending his pulse racing. He left her fumbling with her purse for the pills as he walked away. He hated to leave her even for a few moments. Was it fear that the compulsion would falter, or fear that one of the men present might take advantage of his absence? He shook his head. This was the twenty-first century, not the fifth. Men no longer carried women off simply because they wanted them. Though at present, the notion appealed to him. He
did
have a room right upstairs.

He hurried to the loo and scrubbed his hands and face. Another patron looked askance at his ablutions. “My date is allergic to shellfish, and I ordered crab and shrimp appetizers,” Dermot remarked.

“First date, and trying to impress her, eh?” The man nodded with a knowing grin. “And you didn’t bother to ask what she wanted.”

Dermot sighed as the man left. He dried his face and hands with one of the hand towels kept in the cubbies built into a cabinet on the wall. Had he always been this way? Did he never consider what others might want or need? He couldn’t remember ever asking Mairéad what she preferred. He made demands. She acquiesced.

He’d turn over a new leaf beginning now. Compelling Sidney to enjoy his company sent a pang of guilt through him. The right thing to do would be to release her the moment he returned to their table. He tossed the towel into the bin and headed back.

At the entry to the back room, Dermot paused to watch her. She had taken one of the roses out of the vase and held it to her face. Her beauty tugged at his heart and stole his breath. He wanted her in a way he’d never before experienced, and it disturbed him. What was he doing here? His life would be over in less than a fortnight. His own desire aside, he had to consider how all of this would affect her.

As if she felt his stare, she turned his way, tilted her head and smiled. It took a second before he could move.

“What were you doing, Dermot?” she asked once he’d seated himself.

“Watching you.”

“Afraid I might bolt?” she teased.

Her tone enticed rather than reprimanded. Was she flirting with him? Gods, he’d explode before the night was over if he couldn’t have her. “Lass, every man here is watching you.”

“Why?” Sidney surveyed the room, her brow furrowed.

“You really have no idea.” Dermot reached for her hands, determined to release her from his thrall. “I…”

Sidney shifted, took one of his hands in both of hers. “You were going to tell me about your childhood, remember?” She studied him, her expression no longer distrustful, but open and interested.

Her pupils dilated when their eyes met. He knew she found him attractive, and the lure of one night spent in her arms was too much to resist.

Sidney opened her mouth slightly as if to speak and sighed instead. She ran her hand over his and watched him. Dermot lost all reason. Something inside him came apart and sent him reeling. He needed this. Gods, he needed this one night of pretending like he needed the air he breathed. “I had no childhood, Sidney.”

Dermot savored the warmth and feel of Sidney’s hands enfolded in his. “From the moment my father gave me away, my destiny balanced upon the fulcrum of fate.”

Across the linen-covered table, Sidney regarded him with solemn brown eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“I was trained by my uncles to take my father’s place as laird of my clan. I was also trained by the Druids to become an ascetic priest.” He never discussed this with anyone, and yet he wanted to tell her everything. “Either way, once my father and brothers died, my path was set. It was left to me to lead my clan.”

“What did
you
want to be?”

“What I wanted had naught to do with it.”

“I can’t imagine such a thing.” She shook her head. “Didn’t you have dreams of your own?”

“Dreams of my own?” The question made Dermot uncomfortable. In all the centuries he’d lived, no one had ever asked him what
he
wanted. He hadn’t even asked himself. “A man’s choices are oft determined by the circumstance of his birth. I’m titled. I have an obligation to my clan.”

“Even so, everyone has a choice, even if it means walking away from the expectations of society and family.”

“No’ all of us are so inclined.” The argument Sidney used was the same one made by Mairéad when she convinced him they should wed. She’d acted upon her convictions, made her choice, and it led to her death. “I did no’ consider your preference earlier, and I’d like to make amends. Would you care for an appetizer?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m not all that hungry.” She glanced at him, then studied their entwined hands. “Are you?”

Her voice had turned thick and rich like honey, and Dermot couldn’t speak for fear he’d break the spell. He’d compelled her, and yet it was he who had become enthralled.

“Dermot?”

“Hungry? Aye, I’m starving.” He caught and held her gaze. “But no’ for food.” She didn’t pull her hands away, and a rush of anticipation quickened his breath. He watched her eyes grow wide as a fine blush rose to her cheeks. “You are so lovely you take my breath, lass.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “Thank you.”

Dermot stared at the delicate curve of her neck and imagined nibbling the warm, tender spot just below her ear.

“Didn’t we…aren’t we supposed to talk about something tonight? I have this feeling like I’ve forgotten something important.”

“Aye, I promised to tell you why I’ve come.”

She tilted her head as if trying to recall.

“Why don’t we find somewhere private to discuss the matter? I have a suite upstairs.” He watched her blink a few times. His world came to a standstill while she thought it over.

“Okay.” Her eyes met his and didn’t waver.

Dermot pulled his wallet out and tossed a one hundred dollar bill on the table. “We can order room service later if we wish.” His only thought was to get her on to the elevator and into his room before she came to her senses. He had not compelled her to go to his suite or to make love with him, only to enjoy his company and a meal. She’d agreed of her own free will. What did it mean?

Ushering her through the lobby toward the elevators, he pondered the significance of her decision. Surely she understood what she’d agreed to. He’d come right out and told her he wanted her. He jabbed the elevator button while keeping his other hand on the small of her back. The elevator doors whooshed open, and he fought the urge to lift her into his arms and through the doors.

“Your childhood sounds like it was very lonely. Did you ever get to play with other children?”

“I do no’ recall ever playing with children.”

“That’s a shame. No wonder you always seem so tense.” Sidney glanced up at him through her lashes with a Mona Lisa smile that made him weak in the knees. “I wonder if you even know how to relax. What do you do for fun?”

“Fun?” Gods, was she flirting with him?

“Yes, fun. As in being playful. What makes you laugh?”

“I’ve no idea.” At the moment, he was so aroused, he could scarce remember his own name, much less follow the conversation.

Sidney’s laughter filled the small space and drew Dermot’s gaze to her mouth. What would she do if he kissed her right here?

“Oddly enough, I believe you.” She reached up and straightened his collar. “I think I’m going to have to teach you how to play.”

Gods, yes. In bed.
“I get a great deal of enjoyment out of beekeeping.”

“Do the bees make you laugh?”

The elevator stopped, and Dermot led Sidney down the carpeted hallway toward his room. “I collect art, rare books. I grow medicinal herbs and make homeopathic remedies for those who seek them.” He frowned at his own feeble attempt to defend himself.

“Sounds…stuffy.” Sidney raised an eyebrow at him. “I know your hobbies give you satisfaction, but what makes you laugh? There must be something.” She linked her arm with his.

“I’ve no time for frivolous pursuits.”

“Now that’s just sad.” She shook her head as he slid the key card into his door.

Sidney walked in and surveyed his suite. “Nice. I like the color on the walls. The peachy-gold makes the room cozy.”

He gave the room a cursory glance. “It’s comfortable enough.” He watched every move she made and wondered what she would do if he put his arms around her.
Too soon.
Where had his self-control gone off to? “Bloody hell,” he muttered and raked his fingers through his hair.

“What?” Sidney turned to face him, a puzzled expression clouding her features.

“I said bloody hell. I’m having the devil of a time keeping my hands from you, Sidney.”

“I see.”

“Nay, lass.” He shook his head. “I do no’ think you do.”

She tossed her purse onto the love seat. “What would happen if you gave up the struggle?”

Dermot groaned and closed the space between them. “I’d take you into my arms.” He drew her against him. “Like this.” He watched her, ready to let her go the instant she showed any resistance.

“Then what?” She put her arms around his neck and tipped her face up to look into his eyes.

“I’d kiss you.” He brushed his lips across hers and drew back. “Would you like that? May I kiss you?” She nodded, and his world turned upside down. He took her mouth as if he were a man condemned, and she was his last meal.

Sidney pressed her lush body closer and opened her mouth for him. Aye, honey, sweet honey and heat in his arms. Cupping her bottom, he pressed her against his aching arousal. She moaned into his mouth, and he lost his mind. He wanted her with every fiber of his being, and she wanted him too. Didn’t she? Or, was her response due only to his compulsion? Guilt swamped him and brought him back to his senses.
This isn’t right.

Struggling to regain control, he broke their kiss and looked into her face. Sidney opened her eyes and stared back at him with a dazed expression. Gods, what a beauty.

Who was he kidding? Sidney wouldn’t be in his arms if he hadn’t compelled her to let down her guard. He gathered his resolve and imbued his voice with magic.

“I release you.”

Sidney remembered walking with Dermot to his room. She remembered every second of their evening, especially the moment he took her into his arms and kissed her. She’d never experienced such a mind-blowing kiss before. Still, she felt odd, as if awakening from a dream. She disentangled herself and stepped away, embarrassed. “Um…” She smoothed her dress and tried to think of something to say.

“It’s time we talked, lass. There are things that need saying.”

“Right.”

“Have a seat. Would you care for something to drink? The bar is fully stocked.”

She watched Dermot walk over to the bar and pour himself a whiskey. A moment ago he’d been all over her. Now he seemed all business. Off balance, she missed his arms around her, his body pressed against the length of hers, and their combined heat. He’d left her throbbing and needy.
Not fair.
“I’d like a glass of wine.”

“White or red?” He stared into the small hotel refrigerator.

“White.” Sidney crossed the room and sat down on the ultra-suede love seat. Dermot handed her the glass of wine and sat across from her in the matching armchair. She set the glass on an end table without taking a sip. She didn’t want to ask the questions. What she wanted was to climb onto his lap and resume where they’d left off, only this time sans clothing. She forced the words from her lips. “Why are you here?”

“I’m cursed. I—”

She blew out an exasperated breath. “I agree your life has been difficult, but I’d hardly call it cursed.”

Dermot ran his hands over his face, his expression so grim it made her insides twist.

“Listen to me, and do no’ interrupt.” He put his hands on his knees and leveled his gunmetal gaze at her. “More than sixteen hundred years ago your mother cursed me and my men with immortality for failing to protect you. You were murdered during an attack on our keep. To lift the curse, I must return you to the very spot of your murder on the exact day it occurred.”

Sidney waited for the punch line and continued to stare at him.

“Sidney?”

“My…mother?” She shook her head. “Murder…more than sixteen hundred years ago you say?”

“Aye.
You
are my wife…reincarnated.”

“And
you
are certifiable.”

“I’ve been waiting for your rebirth for centuries. If we do no’ lift the curse now, my men and I will remain as we are for eternity.” Dermot rose from his place to loom over her. “You’re the only one who can free us.”

“You’re fucking nuts if you think I’m buying that crock!” Sidney grabbed her purse and jumped up, heading for the door. “I asked for the truth, and you give me this bullshit?” She glared at him. “I’m so insulted I don’t even know what to say.”

“I
have
told you the truth. I need your help. My men need your help. Please, sit down. Let’s discuss this.”

“Look—” she had her hand on the doorknob, “—I don’t know why you picked me for your little scam, or what brought you to Saint Paul. I only know I want no part of this. Stay away from me.” She swung the door open and ran down the hall. By the time she reached the elevators, tears filled her eyes. She punched the down button. Why the hell was she crying? “Shit.”

A door opened and closed down the hall, and her heart jumped to her throat. Would Dermot come after her? She froze and held her breath to listen. When no one came, she started to pace, hitting the down button with each pass. Why was the elevator taking so damn long? Finally the doors opened. She entered and pushed the lobby button. Once she retrieved her coat she’d catch a cab. “Damn.” Maybe the attendant would remember her. Dermot had the claim ticket.

Swiping at her tears, she took deep breaths and tried to calm herself. What could Dermot and his men possibly have to gain with such an outlandish tale? How had they chosen her as their target? She had to warn Zoe.

The elevator doors opened to the lobby and she made her way to the coat check only to stop in her tracks. Dermot stood at the counter with her coat slung over his arm. Sidney turned around and started back toward the concierge desk. A cab would be warm enough to get her home. At least she had her purse and keys.

“Sidney, wait,” Dermot called out behind her. “Let me take you home.”

“No.” She turned to face him and snatched her coat from his arms. “I mean it. Leave me alone, or I’m calling the police. That was our deal.”

“I can prove what I told you is the truth. Just give me a chance.”

Dermot put his hands on her shoulders, and her tears started again. The desperate, pleading expression in his eyes broke her heart, and her own disappointment went soul-deep. She’d hoped for the truth, and in her heart she’d hoped for something more between them.
I wanted him.
“No, I’ll take a cab home.”

“At least think about what I said. I know this all seems impossible right now. Sleep on it, and maybe you’ll find you’re willing to talk more tomorrow.” He gave her a little shake. “In the meantime, let me take you home. I need to know you’re safe.”

Shaking her head, she turned and walked away.

He followed her to the concierge desk and put two twenty dollar bills on the counter. “See that she gets into a cab safely,” he ordered the attendant before walking away.

Sidney felt his eyes on her as she waited for the taxi. He hadn’t left the lobby, and probably wouldn’t until she was in the cab. No matter, she had other things to think about, and her mind worked a mile a minute while she waited.

She watched the yellow taxi pull up, and the bellhop motioned to her. Once she’d settled herself inside, she pulled the cell phone out of her purse. Shoring up her nerve, Sidney hit speed dial and held her breath for a moment. “Hello, Mom. Listen, I know Thanksgiving is this week, but I’m going out of town. Would you do me a favor and cover my shifts at Panache?”

Dermot sat on the edge of his bed with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. His head throbbed. He’d spent a great deal of magical energy to delay the elevators, not to mention the magic used to compel Sidney. His body ached with sexual frustration, his stomach rumbled with hunger, and Sidney’s tears seared his conscience. He couldn’t remember ever being quite this miserable.

Not since the day of Mairéad’s murder had he found it so impossible to control his emotions. Lust had him in a frenzy, and his insides knotted up whenever Sidney was anywhere near him. Even when she wasn’t close by, he couldn’t keep her out of his head. He fretted about her, wondered what she was doing, worried about other men. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

He wanted Sidney, and he couldn’t have her. It wouldn’t be fair. She deserved more than a one-night stand or an affair lasting a couple of weeks. “Ballocks.”

Had his life ever belonged to him? No. He’d never had choices, and now he wondered. What
would
he have done if it had been up to him? Would he have married Mairéad? Would she have wanted him if it hadn’t been for his position as laird?

He tried to imagine a life of his own. Instead, the way Sidney felt in his arms kept insinuating itself into his thoughts. He remembered how she’d fussed with his collar in the elevator and linked her arm through his. Small things, yet they gave him so much pleasure. She had teased and flirted with him, and then left him gasping for more.

Sighing, he got up and headed for his luggage. He pulled a small packet from his suitcase, went for the coffee maker and filled it with water to heat for his medicinal tea. First the headache, then room service and finally a plan. He had to regain control over himself. For his own sake and for the sake of his men, he had to find a way to cut off the emotional havoc Sidney St. George stirred within him.