Descension (25 page)

“See?” he teased. “We’re as different as night and day.”

She laughed, and it sounded like a heavenly choir singing his favorite song.

“Will you share another glass of wine with me, Rhosewen?”

She nodded her approval, so he refilled their goblets and handed hers over. “Do you work?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I’m an ecotourism guide. I lead hikes around Mount Hood.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, but my passion is art. Painting more specifically.”

“Do you sell your work?”

“Some of it; my parents own a gallery. But the majority of my work stays in the family. What about you? Are you a painter slash ecotourism guide?”

“No,” he laughed. “But I do work with nature. I make wooden furniture for my parents’ shop.”

“Do you like it?”

“Sure. Woodworking comes naturally to me, so much so a lot of people wagered I’d be an earth child. I carved my first rocking chair at three.”

“Did your parents sell it?”

“No. It’s on their porch. Mom loves to tell the story of how it was made.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Moms tend to be that way,” he agreed.

Their privacy depleted as a crowd gathered on the hillside to watch a game of flame-away—thirty magicians tossing around a fireball as another group of ten tried to extinguish it with water spells. A nearby group of rambunctious children quickly decided to play their own game, but their fireballs fizzled prematurely, and those spraying water aimed at their neighbors more than the puny target.

Rhosewen laughed as she adoringly watched the children, and Aedan’s heart stuttered as he intently watched her.

As sunset approached, the flame-away participants lost interest, and only then did the hillside’s occupants begin to scatter.

“Do you know that woman?” Rhosewen asked, pointing down the hill.

Until Aedan followed Rhosewen’s gesture, he’d forgotten Medea existed, but there she was, glaring at him with burning eyes and pursed lips. He turned his back on her, slightly worried she might literally burn him with those golden eyes, but she was smarter than that; too many witnesses around.

“Her name’s Medea,” he answered. “She lives about a hundred miles southwest of here.”

“Well that’s not the first time she’s looked at us that way,” Rhosewen noted. “Is she an ex?”

“Not by my standards,” he replied. “We went on two dates last February and it didn’t work out.”

Rhosewen raised a curious eyebrow, so he quickly changed the subject. “Would you like to go for a walk?” he asked, vanishing their empty glasses. “There’s a river on the other side of the hill with a good view of the sunset.”

“Sure,” Rhosewen agreed, taking his hand.

As they climbed the hill, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, and she looked up in surprise. But she didn’t resist; the weight and warmth of his arm felt perfect. When they reached the top of the hill, she glanced back, and a shiver ran down her spine. Medea continued to stare, eyes and aura burning.

Rhosewen turned away, looking to the man beside her. Then they were on the other side of the hill and completely alone. Medea didn’t exist anymore. In fact, nearly everything was wiped from Rhosewen’s mind. All she could concentrate on was Aedan—the arm around her back, the fingers squeezing her shoulder, the hip brushing her side. She swallowed hard, wondering how she would keep her head with him. She’d never been so thoroughly and immediately attracted to a man. The tidal wave of emotions unnerved her.

The river came into view, so Aedan stopped walking, scanning their surroundings as he pulled her closer. “How long will you be in Virginia?”

“A week,” she answered, marveling at the coral sky.

“Hmm…” Aedan mumbled. Though he never intended to commit to a woman so soon in life, Rhosewen had him reconsidering. Maybe he could let her leave in a week and move on, but the thought made him nauseous. To think this night would be his only chance to look at her golden hair, ivory skin, and sea blue eyes had his stomach in knots. He was shocked by his immediate attachment to her. He barely knew her, yet she was the reason his lungs transported air. Without her, the vital organs would surely deflate. He needed more of her, all of her, forever. He would have to act fast. If he had any hope of keeping her in his life, he’d have to convince her he was worthy, and he only had a week to do it.

“Stunning,” Rhosewen whispered, still watching the west.

“Yes,” Aedan agreed, keeping his eyes on her.

Rhosewen looked up at him and had to stifle a gasp. The burst of color on the horizon was beautiful, but he was better. His emerald eyes brimmed with affection as they slowly admired every inch of her face, and the corners of his sensual mouth were turned up, as if he was immensely pleased with what he saw. His warmth emanated through her dress, licking at tingling flesh, and his scent called her name, tempting her to cuddle his neck. When he rested a hand on her hip, she moved closer, like her muscles had a mind of their own. Then he leaned in, sharing the air she breathed, and all her hesitation floated away. She was putty in his hands.

Aedan paused an inch from her face, searching for unwillingness, but there wasn’t a refusal to find, only a subtle parting of the plump, pink lips he could no longer resist.

Their first kiss was unhurried, intense and more meaningful than any before it. Eager to accept and prolong, they held each other tightly, memorizing and savoring every taste and feel, every second of every sensation.

By the time they stopped to breathe, they were bathed in moonlight.

“I want to see you again,” Aedan whispered, keeping his fingers buried in soft spirals. He wanted to see her everyday for the rest of his life. He wanted to kiss her like that every morning and every night. He wanted to wake up to her aqua eyes forever.

“I’d like that, too,” Rhosewen replied, “but I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever had,” he countered.

“We barely know each other,” she argued.

“I’m trying to remedy that,” he returned.

“I’m leaving in a week, Aedan.”

“Are you trying to convince me?” he asked. “Or yourself?”

She didn’t answer, and Aedan took her silence as a good sign. “Have you ever been to the Devil’s Den Nature Preserve?” he asked, keeping her pressed against him, terrified to let go.

“No, but I hear it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” he confirmed. “We could make it there in about an hour and a half. Will you let me take you?”

“When?”

“Tomorrow. We could fly over before sunrise and spend the day there.” He held his breath, waiting for her answer.

Rhosewen laughed, laying a hand over his expanded chest as she caved. “Okay, as long as my family doesn’t mind if I skip out for the day. We only visit once a year.”

Aedan was thrilled. Getting her to say yes was the hard part. He’d known Keith’s coven his entire life and was certain he’d get their permission. “Good. I’ll pick you up at four in the morning, providing, of course, your family can spare you for the day.”

“It’s a date,” Rhosewen agreed, flashing a smile that stole his breath, but his heart soared.

Aedan arrived five minutes early Sunday morning, but Rhosewen was already outside, waiting on her aunt’s porch. She stood from the landing as he approached, and like the first time he’d seen her, his steps faltered.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. The previous night’s dreams hadn’t done her justice. Her long, indigo dress contrasted beautifully with her ivory skin, which glittered like snow in the moonlight.

“Good morning,” he greeted, taking her midnight blue flying cloak.

He held it open, letting her slip her arms in. Then he carefully pulled the hood over her hair, drifting his fingers down loose spirals to the sapphire clasp at her throat.

Rhosewen was glad he took the liberty; she was paralyzed by his perfect manners and handsome visage. “Good morning.”

Aedan smiled and took her cheeks. “You’re even more beautiful today than you were yesterday,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” she breathed, trembling from head to toe.

He leaned in, inhaling her shallow breaths. Then he brushed a soft kiss across her lips. “Are you ready?”

His breath rushed over her tongue, hammering her heart and scattering her brain. How did he do that? The simplest of gestures from him made her legs weak and her oxygen intake inadequate.

“Yes,” she barely managed, and he released her face, taking her hand instead.

Having flown these lands before, neither of them watched the scenery. Even when they navigated over Mount Rogers, their eyes stayed on each other, ignoring the red spruce and Fraser fir trees blanketing the mountain slopes. Just before sunrise, they alighted in a large meadow atop a mountain crest.

“You’re very graceful in flight,” Aedan noted, watching her drop her hood.

“Thank you,” she replied, grinning up at him. “Would you believe I was thinking the same thing about you?”

Aedan watched her radiant smile for several peaceful seconds. Then he cleared his throat and pointed east. “We’ll see the sun rise in about two minutes.”

They silently stood, hand in hand, watching the sky shift from inky blue to pearl gray. When the sun finally breached the horizon, brilliant shades of red and gold bathed them in heat and glittering light.

They took their time exploring the reserve and each other, and the more they learned, the clearer it became—they weren’t learning enough. They wanted to know everything.

When no one was around, they compared their magic, finding their abilities evenly matched. And when strangers were nearby, they took the opportunity to close the distance between them, whispering into each other’s ears.

Around noon, they claimed a deserted clearing for a picnic, and Aedan summoned their supplies from the bewitched bag at his waist.

“So how did you end up in Oregon?” he asked, taking her hand as they sat.

“Well,” she answered, “my mom grew up in Virginia, in the Murray/Hughes coven.”

“Murray/Hughes,” Aedan repeated, recalling what he knew of them. “Are you Adonia’s granddaughter?”

“Yes. She’s my mom’s mom.”

“Then my dad probably knows your mom.”

“Probably, if he knows my Grandma Addy.”

“So how did your mom end up in Oregon?”

“My dad of course. He met my mom at an art festival in Ireland. The crowd parted and they locked eyes, just like a fairytale. They bonded the next night, but mom says she was ready to uproot her life the second she saw him. She was just relieved he was from the states.”

“I bet,” Aedan replied, quickly realizing how frustrating distance could be.

“I used to think her move to Oregon was a no-brainer,” Rhosewen added, scanning the nature around them. “It’s so beautiful there. But the more I visit Virginia, the more I realize how hard it must have been for her to leave. This place is fantastic.”

“I’ve never been to Oregon,” Aedan confessed, passing her a sandwich, “but I hear it’s breathtaking.”

“So is this,” she countered, watching a whitetail deer creep into view.

“Yes,” he agreed, “but as bonded children, we both know that the land, no matter how beautiful, can’t compare to the love of your life.”

Rhosewen looked at him, finding his attentive gaze. “That’s true.”

They watched each other as they ate in silence, completely comfortable with the intense eye contact, and not until he packed away their supplies did Aedan look away.

“So,” Rhosewen said, glancing at the doe, which had settled down for a nap at the edge of the clearing. “What’s next?”

“There’s one more spot I’d like to show you,” Aedan answered, “but it’s probably crowded right now. If we wait until sunset, we’ll have it to ourselves. Unless you’re in a hurry to get back?”

“No hurry. What will we do until then?”

“Have you ever spent time with an alpaca?”

“No,” she laughed. “I can’t say that I have.”

“There’s a farm nearby that’s open to the public,” Aedan explained. “They’re amazing creatures. Would you like to see them?”

“Sure,” she agreed. “Let’s go spend some quality time with the alpacas.”

~ * * * ~

Aedan was right. The alpacas were amazing, and too cute. When Rhosewen entered their enclosure, three babies quickly approached, and she knelt, rubbing the tops of their fuzzy heads. The crias’ moms followed their young, and Aedan rubbed their necks.

“They’re so cute,” Rhosewen whispered, in awe of the gentle beasts. “And soft.”

“They raise them for their fiber,” Aedan explained. “It’s softer, stronger and warmer than wool.”

Rhosewen giggled as a blonde cria nuzzled her neck. “They’re magnificent.”

“It seems they feel the same about you,” Aedan observed, petting the greedy alpaca nudging his cheek.