Page 54 of Wine & Warlocks

“Mmm.” She stretched her arms over her head, exposing her breasts to his eager gaze. “And I’m after receiving more attention from you.”

“You’re a scheming witch,” he accused as he lowered his head to toy with an erect nipple. “If we continue this course of action, I’ll be as weak as a newbornwean, unable to stand on me own two feet when tomorrow comes.”

Her fingers curled in his hair, and she moaned as he suckled her. “Sure, and that’s a fine idea, I’m thinking.”

With a gentle bite and a resigned sigh, he drew away and sat up. “We’ll stay abed for a month—after. But I’ve work to do.”

With a heartfelt groan, she rolled onto her stomach and buried her head into the pillow. “Why do you have to be so fecking responsible?”

“Get your lovely arse up, woman,” he ordered with a light slap on her backside. Following it with a rub, he mentally calculated how long his errands would take and how quickly he could bring Dubheasa to orgasm again.

With the regretful conclusion that he couldn’t delay, he stood. “I have to go, love. For real this time.”

She rolled onto her side, propped her head on her hand, and smiled. “So serious.”

“If I had Eoin’s talent, I’d paint ya just that way, Dubheasa.” He allowed himself the pleasure of studying her naked form, wondering if he should beg the Goddess to grant him an artist’s skill as a gift.

“Even if you didn’t, I’d let you paint me, Ronan. Long hours in bed with your grand eyes on me? Yeah, it would be a real hardship,” she teased.

“Then that’s the thing I’ll look forward to after tomorrow.”

The laughter left her, and she sat up, covering herself with the sheet as she hugged her legs tightly. “Will you lose respect for me if I admit I’m scared?”

He perched sideways on the edge of the bed and hooked his ankle behind his knee. “No, Dove. I’d be worried and caution you if you weren’t.”

“Your da has ended too many lives and ruined a shite ton more. I don’t want us to be casualties of his evil war.”

“If I don’t—”

She surged forward and, kneeling, covered his mouth with her palm. “Don’t you dare say it, Ronan. Don’t voice what-ifs. You’re going to come out of this just fine. I’m not going to entertain any other notions.”

“We have to be realistic, Dove.”

“No. It’s pessimism you’re spreading, and I won’t have it. Tomorrow, Loman O’Connor dies. That’s it. That’s the end of his reign of terror. Tell me you agree.”

Arguing with her would be fruitless, and Ronan didn’t want to spend their treasured moments together contradicting her. Instead, he’d buy into her optimism and pray the Fates would, too.

“Aye, love. I agree. Tomorrow, Loman O’Connor dies.”

The tension eased from her body as she hugged him around the neck. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, and I’m the one who should be thanking you.” He ran his hands down the length of her sleek back and cupped her arse. “I’m getting the better end of this deal, to be sure.”

His comment did what he’d intended and caused her to laugh.

“You’re a rogue.” Shifting to straddle him, she bit his chin. “Myrogue.”

“Aye. Only yours.”

Ronan captured her mouth and tasted heaven as her tongue made love to his. And as he fell under the enchantment that was Dubheasa O’Malley, he quickly decided his errands could wait a little while longer.

* * *

After securingDubheasa’s promise not to leave the O’Malley property and to remain securely within shouting distance of Fintan or Castor, Ronan sent out a feeler for his destination to check for tourists. Once he had the all clear, he teleported to the Hill of Tara, the fabled meeting place of kings and Fae. But he knew it to be the one spot where Anu would always answer his call.

After creating a repelling enchantment to keep others away, he cloaked the hill and lightly scored his palm to squeeze out exactly three droplets of blood onto a worn stone marker stained with the blood of others before him.

“Beloved Anu,” he called out. “I’m after requesting an audience with ya!”

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