Claire Ashgrove Cursed to Kill [Wild Rose] (pdf)

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love you."
No. Were the situation the other way around, he'd have
done exactly the same thing. He knew it then, as certainly as
he knew what he'd been through tonight had freed him. He
dusted his lips over the crown of her head. "I love you too."
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"Let me get this straight." A soft laugh drifted off her lips.
"The ritual wasn't designed for you, but just for the holiday.
And since you're all born on holidays, any one of you could
have performed it?"
He nodded. "Right. Drandar impregnated our mother so
that she would birth a child on each holiday. She tricked him
eight times before he realized she was accumulating the
power to destroy him."
Cian cringed at the shudder that rolled through Miranda's
shoulders.
"And the circle," she gestured to the standing stones,
"That's where he killed the infants who didn't survive?"
Again, he nodded, albeit more slowly. Centuries had worn
the deaths into numbness, but hearing Miranda voice the
bloody history of his tribe roused all the buried feelings. Eight
infants, also his siblings, had lost their lives after only taking
a few breaths. The tribe celebrated the spilling of their blood.
Revered Drandar's growing might.
All except Cian's mother whose phenomenal power granted
her the ability to shield herself from his dark intentions.
"And his purpose?" Miranda asked in a whisper.
"To create a tribe like my sisters and brothers. Most
especially like Brigid, Taran, and Belen, men and women who
embraced the same thirst for blood and immortal power."
He wound his arms around her more tightly as another
shiver worked down her spine.
"Why were they so upset? This was your choice, as others
said."
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"Because..." Cian shifted her, pulling her further upright
and twisting her more fully toward him so he could nibble at
her sweet lips. "Drandar bound my mother's spirit to the
earth." Taking a moment to enjoy the softness of her mouth
against his, he let a kiss linger before continuing, "If the
rituals are completed, my mother's power will be restored and
she'll destroy Drandar. Then she can rest in peace."
"Mm," Miranda murmured as Cian suckled at her upper lip.
Her distraction was evident in the way her fingers curled into
his forearms. The quickening of her breath. "And you? Why
did she ward you?"
He trailed the tip of his tongue over the soft fullness of her
lower lip. "I'm her firstborn son. The first she succeeded in
secreting away."
Miranda resituated herself, straddling his lap and looping
her arms around his neck. "She gave you to me, you know."
No, he hadn't known, and hearing that his mother had
surrendered his keeping to Miranda swelled his chest to
painful limits. Nyamah loved all her children, but he had been
the one she visited with the longest when she managed to
find a few moments to sneak away and see her children the
old woman of the woods raised. She had always favored Cian.
Maybe because he lacked the powers the others possessed,
maybe because as the oldest he understood the role of
mother most and craved what he couldn't have. He didn't
know. Still he recognized the meaning in his mother's gift.
She approved of Miranda. Not just for him. As part of the
tribe that she had loved and served.
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"What do you intend to do with me?" he murmured in a
hoarse voice.
"Oh, I don't know." A smile crept into her big brown eyes,
and she slid a delicate palm down his chest. Her fingertips
danced tauntingly over his stirring cock. "I suppose I could
find a use or two."
With a low groan, Cian wound his arms around her tiny
waist and kissed her thoroughly. His thoughts blurred, the
slide of her tongue against his more intoxicating than any
fermented drink. Hunger sparked in an instant, the need to
feel her body gliding against his, to experience her with the
newness of mortality, igniting like the logs that crackled in
the distance. His hands threaded through her hair, tipped her
head back to claim her more deeply.
Miranda broke the kiss and eyed him warily. "Are you
certain you're done with plotting ways to kill me?"
Cian couldn't hold back a soft chuckle. Brushing the tip of
his nose against hers, he grinned. "I assure you there are
many, many things I want to do to you." He dipped his head
to give the delicate skin along her throat a sharp nip. "Killing
you isn't anywhere on the list."
"Good," she murmured huskily. Flattening her palm
against the center of his chest, she pushed him back onto the
rock. Her impish smile lighted in her eyes as she slid her
hands over his abdomen. "Because I've thought of one, very
important, use for you." One palm slipped lower to stroke his
hardened cock.
"Do tell," Cian managed through a closing throat.
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Bending forward, she dragged her breasts over his chest
as she inched her way to his mouth. "I want to make love to
you on this rock."
He groaned softly, his body answering like a snapping
whip. Dipping his fingertips beneath the hem of her sweater,
he stroked her trim sides with the pad of his thumbs. His gaze
latched onto hers. In those soulful depths, love shone bright,
love he had nearly destroyed. Love he couldn't live without.
"Miranda?" he whispered, suddenly in need of something
deeper, something more binding than the simple words I love
you.
A smile drifted across her swollen lips. "Yes?"
"I want you to be my wife."
For a frightening moment, her smile slipped. His heart
skipped several beats. Silently he cursed himself for leaping
way ahead.
When tenderness infused her expression and tears touched
the corner of her eyes, the instantaneous knot behind his ribs
unwound. He expelled the breath he'd been holding, closed
his eyes in relief. Soul-deep hunger ignited, only this time, it
carried nothing of the dark horrific taint. Just the need to love
her thoroughly. Until the end of his mortal lifetime.
"If you're going to be there when I wake up, I can agree to
that."
Lightheartedness restored, Cian barked a laugh. He lifted
up, latched his teeth into her lower lip, and with gentle
pressure tugged her down against him. "I'll be here,
sweetheart. Always."
* * * *
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A word about the author...
Claire Ashgrove has been writing since her early teens and
maintained the hobby for twenty years before deciding to leap
into the professional world. Her first contemporary novel,
Seduction's Stakes, sold to The Wild Rose Press in 2008,
where she continues to write steamy, sexy stories for the
Champagne and Black Rose lines. Adding to these critically
acclaimed romances, Claire's paranormal romance series, The
Curse of the Templars, will debut with Tor in January 2012.
For those who prefer the more erotic side of romance, she
also writes for Berkley Heat under the pen name Tori St.
Claire.
Claire lives on a small farm in Missouri with her two toddler
sons, fifteen horses, four cats, and five dogs. In her "free"
time, she enjoys cooking, winning at rummy, studying ancient
civilizations, and spending quiet moments with her family,
including the critters. She credits her success to her family's
constant support and endless patience.
To learn more about Claire, visit her on the web at
www.claireashgrove.com,
or www.toristclaire.com,
and at the Cascade Literary Agency blog site,
cascadeliteraryagency.blogspot.com. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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