Authors: B. C. Burgess
After spending nearly two hours admiring the alpacas, Rhosewen said goodbye to the babies four different times then let Aedan lead her to the farm’s gift shop. When he caught her admiring a powder blue, sleeveless shirt made of cria fiber, he found it in her size and insisted on buying it. Not that she put up a good fight. She was too busy falling for him to fight him.
By the time they said another farewell to the alpacas and left the farm, sunset was less than an hour away. They flew back to the reserve then landed on a deserted trail, walking toward their next destination.
“Thank you for showing me the alpacas,” Rhosewen said, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.
“You’re welcome,” Aedan returned. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“Very much, but I wish you would have let me pay for the shirt.”
“Not a chance,” he refused. Then he grinned as he scanned her aura. “You could pay me back.”
“Really?” she asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.
“Yes, by letting me see you in it tomorrow.”
The thought of seeing him again made her heart soar. “It sounds like I’m getting the better end of the deal.”
“Not possible,” Aedan countered. “This is the best deal I’ve ever made.”
Rhosewen glanced at the hand on her shoulder, yearning to pull it further around her, to move into his chest and lose herself there. But there was something nagging her. “So,” she said, “that witch from yesterday—Medea. Were you telling the truth about her?”
Aedan sighed and rubbed his jaw. “What I said is true, but there’s more to the story than I told you.”
“I thought so. Is there still something going on between you two?”
“No,” he quickly replied. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like?”
“I told you the truth. We only went on two dates and it didn’t work out. What I didn’t tell you is that she wasn’t too happy about it. She thinks I’m in denial about my feelings for her, but that’s not the case. I took her out to get to know her and quickly realized I didn’t want her, so I ended it.”
“Hmm…” Rhosewen murmured. “Is there more to it? Is she a jilted lover?”
“No,” Aedan assured. “Things never got physical. Medea thinks that’s the problem—that sex will close the gap between us. But she’s deluding herself.” He paused, meeting Rhosewen’s searching gaze. “Basically, she thinks we have a chance, and she’s a little obsessed about making it happen. That’s the whole truth. I swear.”
There was a long moment of tense silence. Then Rhosewen shrugged. “Sometimes women get overzealous when it comes to gorgeous men. I’m sorry Medea’s being such a pain.”
Aedan was so relieved, only Rhosewen’s hand in his kept him from doing a back-flip. “I haven’t convinced you I’m more trouble than I’m worth?” He had to be sure.
“It’s not your fault,” Rhosewen replied. “But this does mean she won’t like me hanging around.”
Aedan wasn’t sure how far Medea would go to get her way. He hoped he’d never find out. “Does that worry you?”
“No,” Rhosewen answered. “I can defend myself.”
Aedan had no doubt. Her magic was strictly disciplined and extremely powerful.
“Besides,” she quietly added, “I’m leaving in six days.”
“Six days,” Aedan repeated. Not enough time. He didn’t think even a lifetime would suffice.
He looked to the setting sun—a thin line on the horizon surrendering half the sky to soft stars and a distant moon. “We’re almost there,” he said, squeezing her shoulders. “The park closes to the public at sunset, so we should have it to ourselves.”
A few minutes later, they approached the dark mouth of a deep cavern, stopping in the shadow of giant leaning rocks.
“It doesn’t look that extraordinary at first,” Aedan admitted, “but it feels extraordinary.”
Rhosewen understood what he meant. The atmosphere pulsed with energy. She could feel it and smell it, and when she focused, she could see it. A translucent, multicolored haze, much like an aura, rolled from the cave, curling up jagged stone and across cool ground. Having previous experiences with similar mists, Rhosewen knew the rock formation was extremely old.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, moving closer. “How long has it been here?”
“Scientists say six-hundred-million years,” Aedan answered, carefully leading her down steep stone to the depths of the cavern. “But only the Heavens know for sure. We do know it was formed by rock collision rather than water erosion, so it’s been a dry haven for thousands before us. Do you want to sit?” he asked, finding a smooth slab of granite.
“Yes,” Rhosewen agreed, lowering herself toward the stone, but before she could get there, Aedan scooped her legs out from under her.
He smiled at her shock as he sat, making her comfortable on his lap. Then they turned their attention to the cloud of energy slithering along the quartz-laced walls.
After several peaceful seconds, Aedan broke the silence. “You like it.”
“Very much,” Rhosewen confirmed. “But it’s a little overwhelming.”
“That’s what’s so great about it,” he countered. “It’s incredible how much emotion is packed in here. It’s sheltered millions of living things, witnessing life and death, and it retains an impression of every feeling that passes through it. It’s swarming with memories that humble the soul and tug at the heart.”
“Yes,” Rhosewen agreed, clearly sensing what he spoke of.
“Which one do you feel most?” he asked, playing with a golden curl.
Rhosewen looked at him, half confused, half hesitant. “Do you want to know what I’m feeling, or what I sense in the atmosphere?”
“The atmosphere,” Aedan clarified, stifling a grin. “There are a lot of obvious emotions floating around. Which one catches your immediate attention?”
Rhosewen smiled, wondering if he’d meant to trap her. She knew which emotion had the strongest hold on her, but she wasn’t sure its source had anything to do with the cave’s ambiance. “You go first,” she insisted.
Aedan stared at her lips, his own twitching with humor. Then he took her hand and entwined their fingers. “Love,” he answered. “Passion is a close second, oddly followed by pain then pleasure, but love is definitely the strongest.” He looked at their hands then back to her face. “Do you feel it?”
Rhosewen swallowed a lump as she nodded, her lungs stuttering around an expanding heart.
They already loved each other. Somehow, in less than two days, they’d fallen harder and deeper than ever before. The way they felt sitting in each other’s arms was foreign and fantastic—pure joy, bubbling anticipation, and sudden dependency. Neither of them ever wanted to let go.
“Thank you for bringing me here, Aedan.”
“So you’ve enjoyed yourself?”
“Definitely.”
“Good,” he approved, hugging her closer.
As his nose drifted through her hair, he breathed deep, letting the air out slowly before pulling more in. “Does anyone call you Rose?” he asked.
“No,” she answered. “Why?”
“Surely someone calls you Rose.”
“Not a soul,” she insisted. “Why do you ask?”
“Because it would make a fitting nickname, and because you smell like one.”
Rhosewen’s insides bubbled with pleasure, knees trembling, extremities tingling. She always wondered why nobody called her Rose. She’d tried to start the nickname when she was seven, but while her parents agreed it was fitting, they refused to shorten her name. And for reasons she never understood, it didn’t catch on with her peers. Eventually she gave up, figuring she didn’t resemble a rose enough to be called one.
Aedan nuzzled her hair, brushing soft kisses across her neck. “May I call you Rose?”
“I would love that,” she whispered, pulse quickening as heat stretched from her scalp to her toes.
Aedan found her face then searched her eyes. Every second he spent with her, every word she spoke and every move she made strengthened his powerful attraction. How on earth would he let her go after spending another six days with her? Clearly giving up those six days wasn’t an option. Besides, letting her go, even at this point, would knock him down to a place he’d never been. Just the thought of never seeing her again sent his blood into a frenzy, catching his breath and tightening his muscles.
He looked away from her face and raised her hand, sweeping slow kisses along her fingers. “Rose.”
“Yeah?” she sighed, savoring the name as it rolled from his lips.
Aedan smiled and kissed. “It worked.”
“What worked?”
“You responded when I called you Rose.” He looked from her hand to her face. “Rose.”
“Are you talking to me?” she laughed. “Or just practicing?”
“Rhosewen is a beautiful name. I have to make sure the nickname compares or it won’t do you justice.”
“I like the way it sounds when you call me Rose.”
“Then it’s settled.” He returned his gaze to her hand, resuming his kisses. “Would you like to hear something crazy, Rose?”
She sighed again. Yes, the name was perfect when blessed by his lips. “Sure.”
“Yesterday afternoon,” he revealed, “I was a different person.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Well, since I met you, I’ve experienced things I didn’t know exist, and my outlook on life has shifted.”
“Oh,” she breathed, watching him kiss her pinky.
“All I can see now are roses,” he added. “It’s safe to say I’ve fallen for you.”
Rhosewen thought her heart might explode it swelled so suddenly, fluttering her stomach and stuttering her chest. She tucked her face in his neck, hiding the salty moisture flooding her lids. How had this happened? How had she fallen in love with someone who lived a country away?
Aedan kissed her palm then her wrist, working his way up her arm. “I know the distance is a problem,” he continued, “but I don’t intend for Saturday to be the last time I see you.” His lips swept across her collarbone, paused on her neck then lightly nibbled. “Providing, of course, you want to see me again.”
“More than anything,” she purred, trying to deepen her shallow breathing as her lips found his.
Aedan smiled as he wrapped her in a hug, sliding his fingers into waves of hair. Then he firmly pulled her against him, kissing her so passionately, her chest heaved, her fingers flexed, and her toes curled.
When the need to breathe interrupted their zealous kiss, they remained close, staring into each other’s eyes as they gasped for air. Rhosewen stifled a giggle, but couldn’t quit smiling as she laid her cheek on his shoulder, running her fingers through his racing aura.
“Are you hungry,” he asked, touching his lips to her hair.
“You could say that,” she answered, physically aching to satiate her thirst.
“For food,” he laughed.
“Sure.”
“There are a few places nearby that stay open late. If you’d like, we’ll have dinner then sneak one more look at the alpacas before heading back.”
“Sounds perfect,” she agreed.
“Rose.”
“Yeah?”
“I just wanted to say it.”
“Oh,” she whispered, nuzzling his neck. “Okay.”
~ * * * ~
During the flight home, Aedan and Rhosewen thought about their future and what they could do to keep each other in it. When they landed, neither of them were ready to say goodnight, but it was late and Aedan didn’t want her family to disapprove.
“What are your plans tomorrow?” he asked, brushing a hungry forefinger across her cheek.
“I’ll be in Cape Charles until five,” she answered, “at my aunt Ellena’s shop. After that I’ll be here. You?”
“I’ll be at work until six. After that my plans include doing whatever I can to see you.” He glanced at the house then back. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to steal you from your family two days in a row, but if you’d like, if I wouldn’t be intruding, I could spend the evening here.”
“Would you really?” she asked.
“There’s nothing I’d rather do. Besides,” he added, pointing to the bag in her hand, “you owe me for that shirt.”
“You’ll eat dinner with us,” she beamed. “It’s always an event when one of the families has company.”
“They won’t mind the intrusion?”
“Of course not.”
“Then it’s a date,” Aedan agreed. “I’ll be here tomorrow at six thirty.”
“Tomorrow.” She didn’t want him to leave.
“At six thirty.” He didn’t want to leave.
He leaned in as she stood on her toes, then their lips met for a sweet kiss.
“Goodnight, Rose.”
“Goodnight, Aedan.”
His gaze stayed on her face as he stepped back. Then he winked and mouthed the word
tomorrow
.
Rhosewen’s grin was a bit cheesy as she watched him fly away, and not until she lost sight of his aura did she happily bounce inside.
Aedan alighted on his coven’s lawn to an unwelcome surprise—Medea, who flew from his porch and landed in front of him.