The Mighty Quinns: Danny (11 page)

 

J
ORDAN DREW A DEEP BREATH
and smiled, a look of pure pleasure coming over her face. “I love the smell of books,” she said.

Danny wrinkled his nose and looked around the used bookshop. To him, the store smelled a bit musty. “You and Nan should have come on this trip and left me home.”

“Nan?”

Danny nodded. “She was a librarian back in the States. Something to do with old books and maps. She'd have loved this place.”

“I thought you wanted to come,” Jordan said.

Danny slipped his arms around her waist. “I did. But you were the attraction, not some old moldy books.”

“What about when I get old and moldy?” Jordan asked. “Does that mean you're going to stop liking me then?”

Danny nodded. “I'm afraid so. Once you turn thirty, I'm hitting the road.”

Jordan gasped, then slapped him playfully. “You're awful. I think I might hate you.”

He bent to kiss her neck. “No, you don't. You're mad for me. Admit it. You can't get enough.”

She sighed, tipping her head to allow his kisses to continue across her shoulder. “Well, that's true enough. Although, I'm not sure it's a good thing.” She gently pushed at his chest. “We're here to look for books,” she reminded him. “Not to snog in the stacks.”

Reluctantly, Danny let her go. Hand in hand, they strolled down the narrow aisles between the stacks. “What exactly are you looking for?” He reached out and plucked a book from one of the shelves. “Here we go.
An Illustrated History of Faeries and Sprites.
Maybe we can find some of your wee friends in here.”

“Why do you think I'm a fairy?” she asked. “I don't have wings. Or a wand.”

“Not all fairies look like Tinkerbell. And you wouldn't. You're the kind of fairy that uses all her trick
ery to lure me in.” He pointed to an illustration. “There you are.
Leanan sidhe.
See? That looks just like you.”

She examined the illustration carefully. “She has wavy dark hair. That's about it.”

“There's more,” he said.

“She's naked and I'm fully clothed. And she has wings. And really big boobs.”

Danny playfully tugged at the back of her shirt. “You have lovely breasts. And I think I've seen wings in here somewhere. Why don't we just take a closer look?”

“You need to keep your mind on business,” she warned, wagging her finger at him.

“And you need to stop distracting me. Fairy magic is a powerful thing and you don't know how powerful you are.”

“If I'm so powerful,” Jordan said, “why can't I get rid of the brownies in the house?”

“It doesn't work that way. Fairies and brownies exist in separate worlds.” He handed her the book. “Here. You can read all about it. I'll buy it for you,
sidhe.
”

“We're here to look for big sets of books with nice leather bindings. And, of course, they should be interesting. I have a lot of shelves to fill.”

“So aesthetics are more important than content?”

Jordan shrugged. “I don't know. It all depends. We should get a full set of Shakespeare. Why don't we look for that first?”

“Buying books for their looks is like buying art because it matches the paint on the wall.” Danny reached out and plucked a book off the shelf and held it up to her. “You should start with an Irish poet.”

“Who is that?”

“W. B. Yeats.” Danny leaned back against the bookshelf and closed his eyes. “‘When you are old and gray and full of sleep, and nodding by the fire, take down this book, and slowly read, and dream of the soft look your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep.'” He opened his eyes to find her staring at him.

“That's beautiful,” she murmured.

“I would still love you when you were old and gray,” he murmured. It was an impulsive statement that startled him, as it was based on the assumption that he loved her now—or would in the future. Was that even a possibility in his subconscious? And if it was, what would that mean to her?

Her gaze softened, as if she were searching for the truth in his words. Danny held his breath, hoping that she might return the favor and provide a clue to the depth of her own feelings. Was she falling in love with him? Did she think about a future together?

“You have to have Yeats,” Danny finally said, handing her the book.

She drew in a sharp breath and nodded. “Yes. Good.”

Danny forced a smile. He'd given her an opening and she hadn't stepped through it. “And you'll need collections of Swift and Goldsmith. And Wilde and Joyce.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Jordan asked.

“I'm Irish. We take great pride in our literary heroes. Bram Stoker and Samuel Beckett were Irish, too. And C. S. Lewis. Sister Mary Frances, my high-school English teacher, was a tyrant when it came to homegrown talent. I can still recite ‘The Lake Isle of Innisfree.' It was my favorite poem.”

“Say it for me,” Jordan said.

Danny cleared his throat and stood up straight.

“That's beautiful,” she murmured.

Chuckling, Danny dropped a kiss on her lips. “That's not the end of it. Maybe I'll finish it tonight, when we're in bed.”

“Thank you, Sister Mary Frances.”

“I used to think that's what I wanted. To escape my family, my brothers mostly, and find a place to be alone, in a bee-loud glade. But I'm starting to realize that life alone wouldn't be much fun.”

“Not even in a cabin of clay and waddle? What is waddle?”

“Wattle,” Danny said, emphasizing the
t
s. “Wattle is strips of wood held together with clay or mud. Although sometimes, in olden days, they used animal dung and straw.”

“You know a lot of trivial things,” she said. “I'm impressed.”

“What do you know?” Danny asked. “Recite a poem for me.”

“No.” Jordan laughed. “Outside of nursery rhymes, I'm not sure I know a single poem by memory. Not that
I didn't at one time. Things just seem to come and go from my mind if I don't really think about them.”

He leaned into her. “So you'll forget all about me soon enough?”

She slowly shook her head. “No, I don't think I'll ever forget you.”

Danny cupped her face in his hands and captured her mouth with his. He loved to kiss Jordan. She was always so sweet and willing, her fingers clutching at his shirt. When he lingered over her lips, she moaned softly and Danny slipped his hand beneath her shirt to caress her breast.

His thoughts returned to the lines of Yeats he'd recited, the words drifting through his head. For the first time in his life, he could imagine spending the rest of his days with one woman. Jordan fascinated him with all her foibles and quirks. At once she was steely, yet vulnerable, serious, yet silly. With every contrast he discovered, he became more and more intrigued. Was this really the woman who could keep him interested for a lifetime?

And then there was their physical compatibility. He'd always enjoyed sex, but sex with Jordan was so much more than the simple satisfying of a need. It was how they communicated, how they conveyed the feelings that they hadn't yet put into words. Did he love her? He wasn't sure. But was he falling in love with her? There was a very good possibility he was.

“Books,” she murmured when he finally drew away. “You have to stop distracting me.”

“All right,” he whispered. “Let's get your books. We'll continue this later.”

As Danny followed her around the bookstore, pointing out volumes that belonged in her library, he thought about the time they had left together. He had at least another two weeks of work to do and he could maybe stretch it into three. But her work in Ireland would eventually end.

He tried to imagine how that would look, how it would feel. Would they just kiss each other goodbye and end it? Or would they make plans to see each other again? Though he'd always been one to make a break up clean and simple, somehow he knew it wouldn't be simple with Jordan. He was already thinking of ways they could be together, of trips to New York.

He needed time. Or he'd have to make better use of the time he had. Riley had only been given a couple of weeks with Nan. How had he managed it? Maybe it was time to find out.

T
HEY'D PACKED THE CAR
with boxes of books, the scent of old leather filling Jordan's station wagon. More books would be delivered to the house tomorrow and the shopkeeper had found additional sets in Dublin and Galway that he'd ordered for Jordan and send on through a delivery service.

As they drove along the coast, the sun disappeared, replaced by steely-gray clouds and a soft drizzle. Jordan stared out the window as she listened to the gentle rhythm of the wipers.

Even on such a dreary afternoon, the countryside still looked so green and magical. Until Danny had come into her life, she'd been immune to its charms. But now, caught in an affair with a sexy Irishman, she could appreciate the place that had made him.

There was something about the light, how it shimmered over the landscape, intensifying the colors and the contrasts: soft green moss growing on weathered gray rock, white clouds blowing above the deep blue of the Atlantic. Ireland was alive.

Was it the land or was it the man she was with? Had
Danny made her more aware of her surroundings? Her senses were so much more heightened now. Smells and tastes could elicit an overwhelming pleasure for her. Back home, there was a quiet sameness to all her days and nights, as if she were just wandering from one day to the next, waiting for something important to happen.

Now it had. She glanced over at him, then reached out and ran her hand through his hair, brushing a stubborn curl away from his face.

“What?” he said, looking over at her.

“Nothing,” Jordan replied. “I just felt like touching you.”

Danny smiled. “I know how you feel. I pretty much think about touching you all the time.”

“I know,” Jordan said.

“You do? How do you know?”

“I just do.” She looked out the window at the landscape passing by. “I love Ireland. I didn't think I would, but I do. Even in the rain, it's beautiful.” She paused. “Have you ever thought of leaving?”

Danny shook his head. “No. Maybe for a holiday. I could imagine living in another country for a year or two. But I'd have to come back. Some of my cousins live in America,” he said. “In Boston. And I have cousins in New York and California, too. But I've never met them.”

“I feel like I haven't really seen a lot of the country. I've been to almost every antique store, but I haven't been to Blarney Castle.”

“Blarney Castle is for the tourists. We'll go to the Burren and the Cliffs of Moher. We'll see the natural sites, not the ones with lines of tourists.”

“What else will you show me?” Jordan asked.

“There is a place I could show you right now,” Danny said. “I think you'll like it. And it's on the way to Ballykirk.”

“It's raining,” she said.

“Even better,” he replied. “We may see something interesting in the rain.”

“Is it a stone circle? I went to visit a stone circle here. I thought it would be like Stonehenge, but it was really small.”

“Our stone circles aren't nearly as grand. But they're populated by much more interesting spirits.”

“So, where are we going? Is it on my map?”

“I'm not going to tell you,” he said.

“Will it have a gift shop?”

Danny chuckled. “No. No gift shop.”

Jordan continued to question him, making a game of it, trying to tease the answer out of him. Danny grabbed her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “Look how happy you are when we're out of that house,” he said. “We need to make a point of getting away more often. You never look like this when you're sitting in your office, worrying over your reports.”

“How do I look when I'm in my office?”

He pulled a silly face and Jordan couldn't help but laugh. “I look constipated?”

“That was cheesed off,” Danny said. “You look annoyed. As if you'd rather be doing anything else.”

“And how do I look when I'm in bed with you?”

He made another face, his eyes fluttering and his lips parted.

“Drunk,” she said. “You're not very good at faces.”

Danny navigated the station wagon through brilliant green hillsides along the coast. At a rocky pass, they waited for a herd of sheep to cross the road and when they wouldn't move, Danny jumped out of the car and helped the farmer hurry them along.

No matter where she looked, there was something beautiful to see—a thatch-roofed cottage, an old cemetery filled with ornate Celtic crosses, the ruin of an ancient church.

They passed a number of signs for tourist attractions, but Danny continued on. Then he turned off the main road onto a narrow lane. Drystone walls lined either side of the road and bushes arched above them until they were driving through a tunnel of thick greenery. They came out on the other side and he pulled the car into a small parking spot, cut into the stone fence.

“This is it,” he said, hopping out of the driver's side. He reached in the backseat and grabbed his jacket, then hurried around to help her out. They found a muddy footpath leading through a grove of trees.

The drizzle had turned to a light mist and Jordan pulled her jacket more tightly around her. Danny held the umbrella over her head, helping her over rocky spots along the path. And then he stopped. “This is it,” he murmured.

Jordan glanced around. There wasn't much to see. They stood in the middle of some sort of circle, the earth mounded up with trees planted on either side of the small ridge. The entire circle was no more than forty or fifty feet in diameter. “What is this place?”

“This is a fairy circle,” Danny said.

“It looks like a little shallow in the woods. Maybe there was a pond here at one time.”

“No, it's a fairy circle. They're all over Ireland. Sometimes you find them in the middle of a meadow, just a ring of mushrooms. Or they can be made of stones. The farmers won't touch them for fear of grievous bad luck.”

“Where are the fairies?”

“They're watching us. You should be able to see them,
sidhe.
”

“I'm not a fairy.”

“That's what a fairy would say.”

Jordan slowly walked along the elevated ridge, careful not to trip on the exposed roots from the trees. “How did this happen?”

“They say the fairies dance round and round in a circle and the earth rises up beneath them. If you walk around the circle and make a wish, it will come true.”

“I don't believe that,” Jordan said. “Someone piled up the dirt in a circle.”

“They also say, if a man finds himself alone in a fairy ring with a fairy, then he belongs to her forever.” Danny took her into the center of the ring, then stood behind her, lifting her arms up to the sky. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

Jordan did as she was told. Without sight, her hearing became more acute. At first, she thought it was merely the wind whistling through the trees, but then she began to hear singing. Soft, sweet voices on the breeze. “I hear them,” she said, opening her eyes and searching the landscape.

The magic was all around them, like electricity in the
air. “I feel their presence,” she said. Slowly she turned, searching the trees for a sight of them.

“I told you. You have fairy blood coursing in your veins.
Leanan sidhe.
She chooses a human to love and if the human doesn't love her, she becomes his slave. But if he does love her, then he is hers, forever. But forever isn't very long, because the lovers of the
leanan sidhe
always die young. They say that's why so many Irish writers and poets and artists die young, because they are captivated by the
leanan sidhe.
”

“I'm not going to kill you,” Jordan said.

Danny reached out and smoothed his hand over her cheek, tucking a windswept strand behind her ear. “I know. But sometimes it feels that way.”

Jordan closed her eyes and turned into his touch, waiting for him to kiss her. When he finally did, his mouth was warm and demanding.

“Like now,” he whispered. “I feel like I'm going to die if I can't have you.”

Jordan parted her lips as the kiss deepened and she felt her mind spinning with desire and her body pulsing with wild sensations. The kiss ended slowly, Danny nuzzling his face into the curve of her neck.

“You have bewitched me,” he said.

“And can you escape from the
leanan sidhe?
”

“Only if I find someone to take my place,” he said. “Another man to capture your fancy.”

“I don't want anyone but you,” Jordan whispered back.

The wind freshened and her hair whipped around her face. Danny glanced up at the sky. “It looks like it's going to rain again.”

Jordan laughed as a big droplet hit her face. “You do weave a good tale, Danny Quinn. You almost had me convinced.”

“How do you explain it then?” He took her hand and pressed it to his chest. “I can't resist you. All I think about, day and night, is touching you, kissing you.” He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“If you really think I'm going to lead you to an early death then you'd better run away right now. Get out of this fairy ring.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” he said.

She chuckled. “I wonder why we don't have any mythological creatures in the States? We have ghosts. But you have fairies and leprechauns and trolls and dragons.”

Danny grabbed her by the waist and drew her over to one of the trees, trapping her against it with his arms. He pressed his hips against hers and stared down into her eyes. “Can you feel it?” he murmured, his hands skimming over her damp clothes.

“What?” Jordan teased.

His lips were warm against her throat. “Your magic. I can't stop myself. You're too powerful.”

Jordan laughed. “I've come to realize that you will use any excuse to get lucky. Are you saying you're under a spell now?”

“I am. And it's your fault. You and your fairy ways.”

Jordan shook her head. “You don't seem particularly intent on resisting me.” She took his hand and placed it on his chest. “See. It's not as though you can't control yourself.”

He moved his hand back to her breast. “It does that
all on its own. I can't control it.” He reached down and slipped his hand beneath her shirt, finding the warm skin beneath.

Jordan shivered at his touch, then mimicked his caress, slipping her hand under his jacket and sliding her palm up his chest. “Oh, no. I think it's contagious. Maybe we should get out of here before something else starts acting up on its own.” She glanced down at the front of his jeans. “Oh dear, I think it might be too late.”

He cupped her breast in his palm and ran his thumb over her nipple, drawing it to a peak. Jordan sighed softly and closed her eyes and a moment later, his lips met hers in a deep, demanding kiss.

Suddenly, the skies opened above them and the rain came down in sheets. Jordan yelped and Danny grabbed her hand and they ran back to the car. By the time they jumped inside they were both soaked to the skin.

He pulled her across the console to continue what they'd begun outside. Jordan couldn't stop touching him. Her hands shoved his T-shirt up, revealing the hard flesh of his belly. Impatient, Danny twisted out of his jacket, then yanked the T-shirt over his head.

The heat from their bodies fogged the windows and the sound of the rain on the roof was a counterpoint to their soft moans and sighs. Jordan pressed her lips to his chest. She was still fully clothed and he'd made no move to undress her, his hand still hidden beneath her shirt.

Slowly, she drew her tongue along his chest to his nipple, then circled it several times. It grew to a hard peak in the chill and Jordan continued to tease at it. He
groaned softly, and ran his fingers through her hair, tangling in the rain-soaked strands.

Her hands drifted down to his belt and then lower, smoothing over the fabric of his jeans until she felt his erection beneath. Normally, she might have hesitated outside the privacy of the manor house. But they were all alone in the woods and the fairy circle had worked its magic.

Danny watched as she fumbled with the button of his jeans, holding his breath as if her touch were enough to send him over the edge. She glanced up to see him smiling, droplets still clinging to his thick dark lashes.

“I guess the fairies have spoken,” he said.

Jordan slipped her hand inside his boxers, wrapping her fingers around his hard shaft. “I suppose we ought to listen to them.”

“I've always wanted to make love in the rain. And we have this place all to ourselves. We could take our clothes off and lie down in the grass.”

“What if someone comes along?” Jordan asked.

“They'll think we're fairies,” he whispered, touching his lips to hers.

Jordan had never done anything so sexually spontaneous…except for almost everything she'd done with Danny. And what harm could it do? No one could see the spot from the road and there'd be no visitors in the pouring rain.

She wanted to try everything and anything with Danny. “All right,” she murmured. Jordan began to shed her clothes and Danny watched, a look of astonishment on his face. When she was completely naked, she turned and looked at him. “Well? What about you?”

“You really want to do this?”

Jordan nodded. “When in Ireland do as the fairies do.”

Jordan jumped out of the car, into the downpour. Though the air was cold, the rain felt warm on her skin. She ran, her bare feet slipping on the wet grass, until she stood in the middle of the fairy circle. Then she turned her face up to the sky, reveling in the utter and complete freedom she felt.

Danny joined her a moment later, completely naked and fully aroused. They met in the center of the circle with another kiss, this one deep and stirring, a prelude to the passion they were about to share.

They tumbled down into the soft grass, their limbs tangled together. Jordan had never felt anything like it. It was so completely natural to touch him like this. He rolled her over beneath him, his hips resting between her thighs. “We don't have a condom,” he said, cursing softly.