Page 17 of Which Witch is Willing?
His heart leaped in his chest at the vision her words created.
Much later, after their orgasmic shower antics, he cradled his exhausted woman in his arms, replaying their afternoon of debauchery.
With a stuttering of his heart, he realized that while he’d expressed his love for her…she had not.
9
“That was quite thelaydown you had. Get any rest?” Moira asked Tierra when she entered the Châteaux library with Killian shadowing her steps.
Tierra ignored Moira’s knowing smirk and Julian’s all too-seeing eyes. They were still hitting the books, though it did look like they had taken a break to eat. The trays of cheese and crackers with an assortment of olives had her stomach rumbling. She was starved, but then she’d burned a lot of calories upstairs.
She loaded a plate and inhaled the food. “Where are we?”
“Good question,” Killian muttered.
He’d been awfully pensive when she’d woken, regarding her with a constant frown marring his forehead. He looked more like he wanted to take up his scythe and behead someone and that someone was most likely her.
Regardless of his feelings for her, she couldn’t express what she wasn't sure she felt. He had to understand by now that she’d never desired a man like she did him. Case in point, she’d offered him her virginity within hours of meeting him. She’d held on to that thing until the ripe old age of twenty-six. Unheard of in this day and age.
Why couldn't he be satisfied with that for now?
She sure needed a powwow with her sisters. They’d help her see through her foggy feelings.
Killian grabbed a book and took a chair in the corner near the fireplace, shutting her out with more than just distance.
Moira glanced from him to Tierra with a questioning look. Tierra slowly shook her head. Now was not the time. Moira accepted her silent message with one of her own, “We need to talk.”
She had that right.
Tierra opened the book she’d been trying to read before Killian carried her from the room. She wasn’t as good with old English as Moira seemed to be. She had a way with languages and perused the dusty tomes faster than Tierra.
Moira closed her book and stood, going over to the bookcase. “Hey, where is volume thirteen of the Paladin Planetary Magic?” She fingered the line of the hand-tooled leather bindings, cracked and worn with age.
“It vanished during Malcolm de Moray’s—” Julian leapt from his chair. “That’s it.”
“That sneaky bastard,” Killian muttered from his corner. “You don’t think he—”
“It’s just like him to do something like this," Julian said. "Hurry, we need to return to the manor. The book has to be there.”
“Explain,” Tierra demanded.
“Malcolm de Moray is your ancestor,” Julian said. “We barely avoided the Apocalypse back in 1066."
Tierra shared a look with Moira. “Uh, he’s more than just our ancestor.”
“Might as well tell ‘em. They’re bound to find out anyway.”
“Tell us what?” Killian asked, his nostrils flaring with irritation at her keeping secrets from him.
“Malcolm de Moray is actually our grandfather.” Her words dropped like a flashbang grenade. The Horsemen froze, taking in her reveal.
“That would mean Stian the Wanderer is your father, and that your grandmother the demon Vail,” Julian said slowly through tight lips. “I knew he’d stolen the book from me, but I could never prove it or locate it.”
“Stian must have taken the book through the Standing Stones to give to your mother,” Killian finished. “Why would he do that?”
“We need to find that book. The only reason I can see for him bringing volume thirteen of the Paladin Planetary Magic to this time and place is that he knew his offspring would fulfill the prophecy.”
* * *
