Morgan cocked her head thinking. “I don’t understand.”
“Animals that mate for life.” He heard her quick intake of breath.
“For us, it seems to be a compulsion—to find the one that matches us. Those of the crescent moon. That’s what the Abbott House deemed us. The children of the moon. Some such nonsense. They’ve got a million of them. Sayings for everything.”
“I still don’t understand. Melissa’s letter indicated I had a choice.”
“Did she?” he asked.
Morgan concentrated on just what the letter had said. Something to the effect that she was afraid Morgan would choose not to come to Ruthorford, but stay outside.
“Yes, she did.”
“Well, I’m sure she was going to go into more detail when you got together. It seems that women of your descent are strongly attracted to men of mine—so much so, in fact, that we have an extremely difficult time staying away from one another when we come within range.”
She watched Dorian make that statement matter-of-factly while pouring tea into their mugs. He set hers in front of her and she smelled the sweet scent of clove and orange peel. For fortification, she dumped a huge spoon of sugar in the mug and stirred.
“You make it sound like some kind of rutting season,” she huffed. Maybe she was reacting to the realization that that was exactly what it felt like they had been doing since she arrived. In all the years since her puberty, she’d felt incomplete. She wasn’t a virgin; she hadn’t been for a long time. Yet, she felt like it. Never quite satisfied. She’d had lovers whose technique was superb and she’d responded, as she should. Yet, she was left strangely unsatisfied, wanting them to leave—permanently. That had been her problem with Rob. As handsome and competent as he was, he left her cold. She thought she had a problem with her libido. She looked up at Dorian. Maybe it was time to find out.
He noticed the look in her eye and choked on his tea. “Whoa, girl. I’m not done yet,” he laughed.
“Oh.” She couldn’t help but pout. She looked at him from beneath her lashes and blinked a long slow blink. “Go on.” She heard him swallow and had trouble restraining a smile of gratification. At least she wasn’t the only one suffering.
“You don’t know what you do to me.”
It was her turn to swallow. His voice was pure sex.
“When we do come together, we will be bound,” he emphasized the last word. “We will be one with the other. We will feed off one another. Need one another. We will be in sync.”
“Kayla didn’t stay with her mate,” Morgan pointed out.
“Kayla isn’t like you. She has the crescent but not all the genes. Together they produced Meadow, who does. She will find a match-mate, hopefully. I’m not saying you and I can’t be with others. We can. I dated Jasmine for a while. She has the crescent but not the ‘vision’ genes. If Jasmine and I produced a child, she would be like Meadow or you. Unfortunately, the pull just wasn’t there for me. She wanted it to be but it wasn’t. I couldn’t help that.”
“Rob…” Morgan said softly.
Dorian’s eyes hardened. “Yeah. Rob. I don’t like him on so many levels.”
“Jealous, much?”
“Yes, but that wasn’t all. I don’t know what it is…” he didn’t finish.
“No need to worry. We didn’t…how did you put it… match.”
“If we do become a pair, as they say at Abbott House, we become so attuned to one another, we develop a form of telepathy. I don’t mean you can talk and I’ll hear you. Nothing like that. It’s more like I’ll think something and you’ll feel it. You’ll know, as though it was you.” He studied her a moment, then added, “I think. The truth is I am only repeating what Mel and Thom tried to explain. I’ve never experienced it. For the most part, I would have sworn Mel and Thom did read each other’s mind.”
He took a drink of tea. He didn’t look up. “It also enhances our abilities.”
“I’m not sure what abilities you’re talking about.” Morgan was still having trouble accepting the enhanced vision and the aura thing.
“The abilities you have and haven’t used. Your vision becomes stronger. You can read auras without me touching you. You can push with your mind. Mel used it in healing. Oh yeah, you can heal, somewhat. There’s more, I just don’t know what they are.”
“You are spinning my brain around.” Morgan set the cup aside. This conversation was no longer sexy. It was weird. She wasn’t ready for weird. She stood. “One more thing…before I call it quits…alone…for the night—what happened tonight. I felt itchy. Then, suddenly, you came to mind and I thought you were in trouble, so I came running. You were glowing. And…well…you know the rest.”
He gave her the satisfaction of looking uncomfortable. “I was dreaming.” Silence spread between them. “About you.”
“Oh… Oh!” Her eyes popped open and she reddened. “Well, goodnight.” She turned and fled up the stairs. She heard his low laughter behind her.
Chapter Eleven
“Come on, sleepy head—out of bed!”
Morgan felt the cool air tease her body as the covers slipped away. She squinched up her face and peeked out of one eye. Dorian, fully dressed, and as handsome as ever, was tugging away her covers. She grabbed the end of the comforter in a last ditch effort, only to feel it slowly ease from her grasp. There she lay, cold, curled in a ball, in boy shorts and tank. She felt the weight of the robe land on her.
“It’s sunny and bright. We’re going exploring. Get dressed. Meet you downstairs in twenty minutes,” he called by the doorway. “Oh, might want to wear jeans and bring a light jacket or sweater. Plus,” he added, “sneakers—boots, if you have them.
She heard him bound down the stairs, whistle for Meesha, and slam out the back door.
She opened the other eye and looked at the clock. It was a little after nine, which wouldn’t have felt so early had she not been awake most of the night. She had lain awake, contemplating all that he’d said. At one point she seriously considered getting up, getting in bed with him, and saying “to hell with it” while letting the cards fall where they may. Fortunately, she had fallen asleep about that time.
So, what was he up to and why was he so damn chipper? She dragged herself off the bed and into the shower. She’d just finished tying her sneakers when he called up the stairs.
“Breakfast is on.”
“Be right down,” she called back and grabbed her favorite, albeit worn, sweater and tied it around her waist.
Bless Jenn for remembering my sweater.
The aromas drifting up the stairs made her stomach answer in a loud response.
“Sit down,” Dorian laughed at her growling stomach, “food’s on the table.”
Morgan sat down before a feast. Crispy bacon, cooked to perfection, surrounded a sunny yellow omelet with bits of tomato and spinach peeking out and topped with melted cheese. The coffee steamed up from the cup. A variety of muffins sat in a basket between them.
“Wow.” She held her plate as he served. “I know you didn’t make the muffins.”
“Nope, but I made everything else. Eat up; we have a hike ahead of us.”
She took a bite. She could get used to this. She eyed him while taking another bite.
He looked up and smiled at her as he shoveled omelet into his mouth. “What?” he said through a mouth full of egg.
“Just what are you up to?”
“Nothing. Really. Well…almost.”
She set down her fork, took a sip of coffee and sat back waiting.
He set down his napkin. “I realized you haven’t seen all the property. It is half yours, you know. I thought we’d take the day off and explore. I want to show it to you and today is a perfect day for it. I even have our lunch packed in a backpack for us.”
“What about the shop?”
Morgan had begun to enjoy the shop. As soon as Dorian had figured out her accounting skills, he had turned a lot of the paperwork over to her. She was surprised at how well the shop did. The books were in perfect order. The books for the gift shop were kept separate from the pharmacy.
There were several people who had standing accounts with the business and not one of them was delinquent. She did notice that Miss Alice and Miss Grace had asterisks by their names, as did Mr. Parker and several others, most of them elderly. She had asked Dorian when she’d had a moment. He had been working more in his lab since she’d been there and a whole day could pass before they’d get a chance to talk. He explained that The Shoppe of Spells had a tradition of offering discounts for senior citizens and those less fortunate. Upon examination, she found some of those discounts were quite steep. Another family, whose account included baby formulas and such, paid almost nothing. Dorian explained that the husband had recently passed away and the mother was trying to keep three children, all under the age of four, fed and clothed. It turned out she was one of the young waitresses that had waited on them at the bed and breakfast. She had thought the young woman looked tired. Even with all the discounts, The Shoppe of Spells held its own.
The largest account holders were the bed and breakfast and John Davis. The Shoppe of Spells supplied a large amount of herbs to both. She understood the bed and breakfast, but couldn’t quite figure John. There were also many miscellaneous pharmacy items. It worried her. She considered the possibility of drug dealing and approached Dorian about the purchases. Dorian laughed and reassured her that everything was on the up and up—but would go no further.
“The Shoppe of Spells is closed for the day. We pretty much do that around here. Teresa will answer the phones—I have any calls forwarded. As you’ve seen, there’s a pad of sticky notes in the mailbox so people can leave messages on the door. If there’s an emergency, I have my cell.”
He took their empty plates, rinsed them and loaded the dishwasher, then grabbed the backpack and headed out back. Meesha waited on the back steps. Dorian locked the back door, a rarity, and headed toward the back of the cottage. Morgan remembered the gate behind it. She followed, curious now. He held open the gate and Meesha dashed through. Morgan stepped through and stopped, causing Dorian to slam into her.
“You gotta stop that.” He pushed her ahead.
She couldn’t move. Before her lay a panorama of hills, meadows, trees, flowers, and a stream ribboning its way across the back. A field of lavender perfumed the air. She turned and stared at Dorian, dumbfounded.
“Your mouth is hanging open,” he teased. He pointed to the stream. “That’s the same stream that runs behind the bed and breakfast, down by the willows,” he commented. “I don’t know if you remember, but when you came into town, you crossed a bridge.”
“I remember. It had that welcome sign encircled by morning glory.”
“That’s the one. Well, the stream flows under it. It encircles three sides of Ruthorford. There’s a bridge on the other end of town as well. It’s a bit farther out. But it crosses our property here.”
She looked excited. “Our property? All this is our property?” Her eyes widened.
“Yep. Over thirty acres. Come on.” Dorian led her down a path that was well worn.
“I can see you’ve come this way before,” she mused and followed him. His pleasure was contagious.
He just smiled and pointed. It took a moment for Morgan to see the doe and her two yearlings standing on the other side of the lavender meadow, just inside the trees. Having caught a hint of their scent, the doe turned and led her little ones deeper into the woods. Quickly, they disappeared from sight.
She swung her arm. “This is why lavender is so prevalent.” She inhaled and let her senses absorb the beauty before her.
Dorian led her down the side of the field, then followed a path that meandered into the trees. The path steepened. More granite popped up between the trees. She looked around. Pines, maple, poplar, oak. Dogwoods were tucked under the taller trees. The trees thinned on one side as they stepped onto a slope of granite. He led her across it, then down the side. She heard the trickling of water. Twenty-five feet away from her, water streamed down a granite slope and fell into a rock pool, carved out by eons of cascading water.
Dorian led her around the pool, jumping over the tiny creek and moving around the side of an ivy covered slope. He stopped in front of an opening. If he hadn’t stopped, she would have walked right past it.
He led her inside the cave. About twenty feet in, the passage narrowed and darkened. “I know you can see in here, but I need some light.” He took out a pin-light.
He was right. Morgan’s eyes adjusted quickly. She could see fine. Funny, that had never occurred to her. She thought everyone could see in the dark.
She followed him along the passageway. The walls here were damp but smelled fresh. Another twenty feet or so and it looked like they’d come to a dead end. Dorian disappeared to the left. It opened into a stone cavern. A pool with glistening blue-green water occupied the middle.
He had stopped and turned to watch her expression. Her face lit with surprise; her eyes glistening like the water behind him. He took her hand and led her around the pool to a raised area of stone. He put his hands on her waist and lifted her easily until she sat on the edge. He pulled himself up and sat beside her. “Welcome to my grotto.”
She looked at the shimmering water in front of her. In places, the walls sparkled like diamonds. She had never seen anything like it. Morgan turned and flung her arms around him.
“Thank you. I never…it’s so…there aren’t words…”
He hugged her back. As she pulled away, he pushed her hair from her shoulder, leaving his hand cupping the back of her neck. The warmth of his hand and the energy he emitted moved down her spine. She closed her eyes in pleasure. She felt his mouth move on hers, asking. Her lips parted in answer. Their lips melted into one another; their tongues explored. The tingling quickly changed to a pulse. He slowly pulled back.
“Look,” he whispered and gently turned her head with his hand.
The grotto had come alive. Stones and crystals embedded in the walls glowed as they hadn’t before. The water seemed to vibrate, tiny sparks dancing across the surface. Little balls of mist floated above the surface, like faeries in flight.
“What? How? I don’t understand.” She looked at his now deep blue eyes, the desire molten in them.
“It’s us. We did that.” He let his hand run down her back.
They sat silently, watching the image change as they calmed down. When all was back to normal, she turned to him. “I’ve got to ask. Just how did you know? And with whom?”
He laughed loud and hard and fell back on his elbows, looking up at the ceiling. The black curl that so often escaped, caressing his forehead. “It’s not like you’re thinking. Not that a pubescent boy wouldn’t have liked that,” he said, memories carrying him back. “I was about thirteen at the time. Mel and Thom had gone for a picnic lunch, leaving me in charge of the shop. I was so proud. I felt like such a man.” He turned on his side looking at her, devouring her with his eyes. “Miss Alice fell off of a ladder, trimming back some wisteria. Miss Grace ran to the shop to get Thom and Mel. She was almost hysterical when she saw they weren’t in the shop. I sent her to get Bill Ruthorford and I ran for Mel and Thom. I knew about the grotto. They’d brought me swimming as a kid. I ran as fast as I could. I ran right into a scene out of a fantasy. They were in the pool, entwined. They heard me. I was so entranced with the scene around me I couldn’t speak. Thom brought me out of my stupor long enough to tell them about Miss Alice. He sent me back to stay with Miss Grace. I snuck back the next day. It didn’t look anything like it had when they were together.”
Morgan looked down. He had begun playing with the fingers of the hand that she was leaning on. He had such beautiful hands. Their eyes met.
“Needless to say, I got a lesson in the birds and the bees shortly thereafter. At least our version of it.”
The tension between them was palpable. The stones began to glow.
Morgan felt lust and need move through her body. She felt her breasts swell and become sensitive. She began to throb and thought if he kept looking into her eyes, she would orgasm from the current of energy moving through her enflamed body.
His voice was deeper when he spoke. “I wanted to show you how different we are. Other people make love, we change the environment.”
“Dorian,” she murmured, her voice husky with need, “…shut-up.”
“Morgan, be sure,” he whispered inches from her mouth.
“I am,” she said and took his mouth with hers.
It felt right. For the first time in her life, Morgan had no reservations about offering herself to a man.
Dorian slowly peeled her clothes away, one piece at a time. The air was charged with their desire, the mist dancing. As the last piece of clothing fell away, he stopped and looked at her. She was perfection. Her long, red hair curled across her shoulders and breasts—her dusky pink nipples hardening under his gaze. Her waist tapered and her hips flared, joining with the longest legs he had ever seen. Her skin was flawless, except for the small crescent moon on her hip. He ran his hand over it. It warmed under his touch. She arched.
Morgan felt wanton. She had always been so private, so shy. Yet, here she lay before this man, who was about to become her lover, and she felt completely free, completely open. She looked into his eyes.
Dorian’s intake of breath was enough to tell her that her eyes had changed, yet he wasn’t moving away from her, but coming closer. They watched one another as their lips met, clung, until her eyes closed with pleasure. She felt the heat of his tongue and the graze of his teeth down her body.