Page 49 of The Gathering Storm

“Never worry,” Moira continued. “I’ve a plan for ye.”

Sigrid shot her a disbelieving look, her eyebrows arched high. “You’re talking to me again?”

“Pay attention, lass. I’ve been talking to ye for nigh on five minutes now.” Moira hunkered down beside Sigrid and lowered her voice. “Now, here’s what ye’re going to do.”

“Wait.” Sigrid glanced at Will hustling from one end of the bar to the other and waited until he was out of earshot before continuing. “What are you really doing here?”

“Helping me friend.” Moira’s voice was just shy of patient and had taken on the tone of a mother to a small child. “Think ye need all the help ye can get, Sig.”

That was true enough, but it wasn’t much of an answer. “Moira.”

“Sigrid. What’s good for the goose.” Moira waggled her nearly red eyebrows and grinned. “Chana’s not the only Daughter good at digging up dirt.”

Curiosity stirred. Damn it, Moira always sidled around an issue by deflection, but not this time. This time, Sigrid needed to know what Moira’s motivations were, in case they came back to bite Sigrid on the arse. “What are you up to?”

Moira sighed. “Ye’re going to keep needling me ‘til I spill me guts, aren’t ye?”

“Yes, I absolutely am. Now spill.”

Moira glanced at Will, then leaned closer and whispered, “I’ve seen the way ye look at him, Sig, and I saw the fear in yer eyes when I mentioned Anya’s helping Chana. Ye’re in love with him, ain’t ye?”

Sigrid glanced away from Moira’s probing gaze. “I’m an immortal Daughter—”

“Cut the shite, girly. If ye don’t love him now, ye’re well on yer way.”

That Sigrid could never deny. She nodded solemnly, sipped her lager, and ignored the tightness along her nape. Chana could look. It wouldn’t do her any good.

“Dish some dirt for me,” Sigrid said. “I could use some good news.”

Moira shot her a knowing look, but dish she did, in great detail and length as Sigrid filed every scrap of information away for use in her own training.

Two days later, Will woke up alone in his own bed. He flopped over onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes, blocking out the bright mid-morning light streaming through the curtains and blinds.

He’d spent the weekend with Sigrid, just as he’d promised to do. Their trial run together had gone way better than he’d hoped, in spite of the rocky start on Friday night. But a trial run was all it had been, a simple way for them to see how well they fit together in the day to day.

Waking up beside her had been the next best thing to Heaven. Curled around her body, soft with sleep, her gentle acceptance of his touch, the hitch in her breathing when he slipped into her and pleasured her until they were both sated.

His dick hardened under his boxers. Will grimaced and slung the covers off. No time for that. Today was his day off, sure, but he had things to do, phone calls to make, and a Daughter to seduce later that evening.

He checked his messages, smiled at Sigrid’s good morning text, and answered her back in kind. No sooner had he hit the send button than another text beeped through, this one from his grandmother. He rubbed a hand over his head, ruffling his hair, and thumbed into it.

Robert Upton in hospital. Family eyes only.

Will sat straight up in the bed, wide awake, and read the rest of the text. Late last night, Robert had had a heart attack and had been taken straight down to Northeast Georgia Medical Center in Gainesville, bypassing the local hospital all together. He was stable, but weak, and would stay in the hospital until the medicines he was taking for his Multiple Sclerosis could be re-evaluated.

The text ended with a list of visiting hours. Will closed the text and dropped his phone on the bed. Family eyes only. Rebecca must be worried about something if she’d insisted on that, or maybe his grandmother had imposed the restriction for some political reason.

He rolled his shoulders, shrugging it off, and launched himself off the bed. The day-late Valentine’s Day dinner he’d planned on cooking Sigrid would have to wait. She’d understand. Family came first.

Only, the thing was, she was beginning to feel an awful lot like family.

He gathered clean clothes together and stepped into the bathroom for a shower, mentally rearranging his schedule as one part of his mind concocted a plan for all the ways he could make up their missed dinner to Sigrid.

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