The Wedding Dress
Chapter Four
Chapter Five “HAVE YOU GONE daft?” Snib shrilled in disbelief. Pain pierced Jared’s hand as one of the dogs bit him. Probably the little bastard he was trying to save. Another dog ripped at his shirt. “Call them off, Snib.” Jared’s hands finally closed about the wriggling mass of fur. Jared booted the collie nearest him and pulled the little dog in to his chest. “Hey,” Jared yelped in pain as the mutt snapped his sharp little teeth into the only thing he could reach—Jared’s pecs. “Down, Shep. Digger. Heel,” Snib commanded. The collies dropped, shaking from tail to snout as they fought the urge to finish the kill. But if their master had changed his mind, they’d obey him. Jared’s hands dripped blood, the bite in his chest burned, the terrier eyeing him not with gratitude but plain old resentment for ending the fight. Eyelids peeled back from black button eyes. The terrier showed its sharp fangs and yipped at his attackers as if to say “Let me at ’em, bloody cowards.” For God’s sake, wit
Chapter Five
Chapter Six JARED BUTLER WAS LICKING her neck. Emma could feel it through that delicious twilight between sleep and wakefulness. His warm tongue stroked the sensitive cords and hollows, pausing from time to time to torture her with tiny nips at her earlobe. His hair could use washing, the thick waves not nearly as soft as they appeared. But who cared as long as she could feel that soul-shattering mouth on her skin at last? She should make him stop. She would. Just not yet. It had been so long since she’d felt this pulse-racing anticipation, this surrender to needs she’d buried, almost feared. She moaned, restless against the lumpy mattress, feather quills pricking through the cloth and prodding her to wake. No. Not yet, she pleaded. She wanted to feel the weight of him bearing down on her. Wanted him to kiss her mouth. She didn’t want to beg. Couldn’t help herself. “Put your hands on me. Jared, please…” He stuck an ice cube in her ear instead. With a cry of protest, she started awake.
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven “MS. MCDANIEL?” Jared cut in on the conversation. Beth sloshed her drink onto her chips, everyone at the table flustered. Even the least sensitive students had been as uncomfortable with Veronica’s line of questioning as he had. Not that they could have stopped her. The other students had learned early not to give her any excuse to aim that incisive sarcasm their way. Jared leveled his gaze at Emma. “I was wondering if you’d let me take a look at your script?” he asked. Emma blinked, the pain in her beautiful eyes disappearing. No, Jared realized. Not vanishing. He’d just bought her enough time to hide it away. “My…script?” Jared picked up his magnifying glass from his table and snapped it back into its leather case. He carefully slipped the metal find into its plastic bag. “Barry Robards said they were going to rewrite the section with that absurd sword duel between Lady Aislinn and Sir Brannoc. I was just wondering if they’d done it.” “They’ve been editing all along. Th
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight IT WAS TORTURE playing Rapunzel when there was a party going on beneath your tower, Emma thought as she looked down at the scene unfolding below. For the past week she’d done her best to honor the boundaries Jared had set for her. She’d spent her afternoons in her room, not studying her script or searching for the knight fighting invisible demons on the sea, but rather, gazing out the window on the landward side of her room at the dig site. A world she couldn’t share. Not couldn’t, Emma corrected herself, wouldn’t. It was a matter of respect, she told herself firmly, honoring Jared’s “rule” that she not “distract” the students from their work. It would have been easy to disregard the dictatorial man who’d ordered her around with such contempt the first day she’d been at the castle. But from the moment Emma had kissed Jared Butler’s cheek, the man she had hated on sight transformed like the druids in the Irish tales her aunt Finn loved to tell. Jared: a shape-shifter more
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine JARED STRODE UP the stairs, his knuckles burning, his temper boiling, feeling more shell-shocked than he would have believed possible. The most disturbing thing in the whole nightmarish encounter was the fact that some of what Feeny had said was true. The press and celebrities did feed off each other. And even if Jared ever was lunatic enough to give in to what his body clamored to do every time he thought of Emma McDaniel’s lush curves, Feeny was right. She’d dump a man like him quicker than last month’s garbage. Not that she wanted anything to do with him anyway. She’d made that plenty clear. So why the hell had it hurt? Yes, damn it—hurt. But more than his pride. Something far deeper, in the place where her fleeting kiss had buried itself. Anger and confusion roiled inside him, mingled with a fierce protectiveness that scared the hell out of him. One more joke. He sneered at his own stupidity. As if the lady needed him to jump between her and this particular dragon. She
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten HE WAS WATCHING her again. From the moment Emma made the trek from castle to dig site, Jared’s temper had grown sharper, his patience shorter until even Davey Harrison was diving for cover. The only person who couldn’t escape the line of fire was Emma, lucky girl. Jared never let her get more than thirty yards away from him. She actually might have enjoyed getting a closer view of the excavation if it weren’t for the fact that Jared bit her head off every time she asked a question, the good-humored tolerance she’d seen him extend to his students obviously not to be wasted on his hostage. Hostage? That might be a little overdramatic. The man was doing her a favor, Emma tried to remind herself. And yet she was beginning to think she’d rather take her chances with Feeny. Jared glared across the site with wolf eyes, so piercing she felt like a rabbit just waiting for him to pounce. And it isn’t even bedtime yet, a voice in Emma’s head mocked. Awareness set every nerve cell in h
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven NO WONDER SIR BRANNOC went stark raving mad after months of guarding the most beautiful woman in Scotland a mere ten paces from her bed. Jared had only been trapped in the tower room for three hours and already he—an archaeologist, for God’s sake—was beginning to think installing a door in six-hundred-year-old castle walls wasn’t such a rash idea after all. As long as he got to stay on one side of all that lovely galvanized steel and Emma McDaniel remained on the other. Even that demon dog of hers would have offered a welcome distraction. But Davey had taken the animal with him when he’d fled down the stairs as if his bum was on fire. The kid had looked almost guilty. But then, it had to be tough for Davey, torn between his loyalty to Jared and his understandable fascination with the first beautiful woman ever to lavish attention on him. What chance did a raw lad like Davey have of resisting Emma McDaniel’s allure when the actress had shattered even Jared’s laser-like co
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve “GOTCHA.” EMMA GRINNED, infuriatingly pleased with herself as she tugged her shift back into place. “You did that on purpose!” Jared accused. “Give the boy a gold star. Come on, Butler. I’m waiting.” “For what?” He glowered, not sure who he was more irritated with—her for tempting him with female wiles or himself for falling headlong into her trap. “Admit it,” she challenged. “It is possible the sword fight in the legend is true. I got my sword to your throat. There’s no reason Lady Aislinn couldn’t have done the same thing.” Outrage flooded Jared. “Lady Aislinn never would have flashed her breast at Sir Brannoc!” He bristled, as defensive as if Castle Craigmorrigan’s lady were standing shamefaced right next to him. “She wouldn’t have lowered herself to such a cheap shot.” He expected Emma to come out swinging, snapping some cutting rejoinder, clashing with words as fiercely as they’d just battled with swords. But instead of striking back, she suddenly sobered, her eyes
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen JARED GROUND HIS FINGERTIPS into his burning eyes, trying for the hundredth time to clear them enough to actually bring the site map on his desk into focus. A forlorn hope, after what he’d suffered the past three nights. Sure, he’d researched torture devices, as any archaeologist excavating a castle site should. But he
’d never expected to become an expert in a technique that didn’t require thumb screws or iron boots filled with boiling oil. Didn’t require anything at all except keeping the poor son of a bitch awake until he’d confess to any crime in the world just to get a decent night’s sleep. And to add insult to injury, while he was in here trying to work, Emma was curled up in a chair in Davey’s tent, sleeping with her infuriating little dog. Jared swore, burying his face in his hands. Not that it did any good. Emma’s image was still branded into his eyelids, her eyes wide with anticipation just before he kissed her. He shifted in the uncomfortable chair he’d hoped
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen EMMA WOKE TO UNNATURAL silence, the steady, all-too-familiar rasp of Jared’s soft snoring from across the room gone. She sat up in her bed and peered to where his mattress lay across the arched doorway. The candles kept lit for emergencies glimmered, casting weird shadows across tumbled blankets thrown back onto the stone floor. It was far too easy to imagine Jared kicking them away from his long legs in restlessness or frustration. Picture him climbing to his feet to pace, scowling darkly. But Jared gone altogether? That seemed unthinkable. “Jared?” she called, drawing her blankets up to her chin as her gaze tried to pick out his silhouette in the shadowy recesses of the room. “Jared, are you there?” Silence. Unease rippled through her. The man had been guarding her as fiercely as Sir Brannoc had guarded Lady Aislinn. What in the world would make Attila the Scot desert his post? Maybe you drove him off, a voice whispered in her head. Flinging yourself at him like some
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen EMMA MELTED INTO Jared’s arms, her mouth eager beneath his, her hands threading back into the unruly waves of his hair. He groaned at her response, his tongue laying siege to the crease of her lips, demanding entry. She surrendered and he thrust his way inside, invading her body, invading her soul. In that instant, it felt so right to let him breach her last defenses—inevitable, as if this night had been their destiny as much as the fairy flag had been twined into the destiny of this castle and its lady. For a heartbeat Emma felt a frisson of foreboding, wondering if their story would end sadly as well. But she shuttered the thought away, losing herself in this moment when there was nothing but her hands in Jared’s hair, his tongue leaving fiery heat wherever it stroked her own. He kissed her as if he were starving for the taste of her, as if part of him feared he might come to his senses at any moment, be wise instead of reckless and pull away from feelings too stormy.
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen EMMA SHOULD HAVE GUESSED Jared Butler would hog her bed. From the moment she’d met him he’d taken up too much space—in the car, in her head, in the room. The man’s big body sprawled across the mattress until she was forced to balance on the edge where one little nudge from his hip would send her tumbling to the floor. He’d kicked off blankets and furs, leaving them both naked to the chill night air. Emma should have been cold. Would have been, if Jared hadn’t been so deliciously warm, heat radiating off him long after they’d finally sated each other. Taking care to keep her balance, Emma propped herself up on her elbow, chin in hand as she watched Jared sleep, sooty lashes curled on his cheeks, one arm flung up over his head. He snored ever so softly, lips parted, his slightly crooked teeth delighting Emma to an absurd degree. Everything about him was rougher, more natural, somehow more real than any man she’d ever known. Shadows and light from the rising sun painted th
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen JARED LOOKED UP from his site notes as his office door swung open, the whole trailer jiggling as Beth Murphy and Davey Harrison jostled their way inside, all but dropping the mounds of packages weighing down their arms. “Post just came,” Davey said, jamming his chin down on his topmost parcel to keep it from falling. “The man apologized all over the place. That big storm that came in from the east the other day held things up over the Atlantic.” “A storm?” Jared shook his head, trying to clear it of all too vivid images of Emma laughing as she wrestled him down in one of her grandfather’s famous self-defense holds the night before. “What are you talking about?” “Whoa, chief. You’ve been out of it all week, ever since you and Emma found the gauntlet. The phones have been out for two days.” The kid was talking to him as if Jared’s brain had gone missing. Maybe it had. “Right,” he said. “The phones.” “What Davey’s trying to tell you is that these were supposed to be deli
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen FLORA THE PUB KEEPER really should get her boyfriend Snib to nail down this floor, Emma thought as she made her way toward the bathroom. A person could get hurt with the hallway moving all over like a fun house at the county fair. Then again, maybe Snib had taken a hammer to the boards already to sabotage the place in the hopes that Jared would break his neck. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Now, where was she supposed to be going again? The bathroom. She was trying to find the bathroom. No. They didn’t have bathrooms here. The W.C. Wasn’t that what the Brits called it? The water closet. Absurd name. But at least it made better sense than “the loo.” There! She stumbled to a halt, triumphant. That was a water closet-y looking door if she ever saw one! She squinted at the sign, making out the letter. “G,” she said aloud. “G is for girl.” She flattened her hand and tried to aim for the damned thing. But her arm was stopped dead mid-shove. Hey!
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen THE TRAILER DOOR STOOD open to the night, the metal panel thudding in a hollow rhythm against the structure’s outer wall. Jared eyed it in surprise. “I thought I locked that before we left for the pub.” He felt Emma stiffen against him. “I’m sure you did. You dropped the keys and we both made a dive for them. We clunked heads and couldn’t stop laughing.” She was right. Wariness stole through him. “It’s probably nothing,” he attempted to soothe her. “Kids bent on mischief.” “Or someone trying to get the dirt on me.” He bristled at the idea. “That’s breaking and entering. It’s against the law.” “Only if you can prove it. Feeny and his buddies would tell you sometimes it’s worth taking a chance.” Jared ground his teeth. “If those bastards so much as set foot on castle property, I’ll call the police.” “Don’t be dragging the poor cops away from their coffee and donuts just yet.” Emma grimaced. “I’m probably just being paranoid. It’s not like we’ve got some front-page-worthy
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty IN THE SHADOW OF the six-foot-tall bank of purple and white flowers was a decent enough place to stay out of the way and watch Emma in action, Jared thought with a resigned smile as he leaned against the wall of the Dorchester ballroom. Sleek, sophisticated, so exquisite she didn’t even seem real, Emma moved through the adoring throng of London’s A-list like a wayward goddess strayed from the heavens. Turquoise satin draped her curves, the creamy tops of her breasts just peeking above the V-shaped neckline, her hair tumbling in smooth, soft waves down her back. Sapphires dangled from her earlobes. Her grandfather’s diamond star winked in the hollow of her throat, so subtle only Jared could see it, and a square-cut sapphire worth more than Jared made in five years glowed just above the shadow of her cleavage. But in spite of the finery that felt foreign to Jared, the animation in her beautiful features shone every bit as bright as it had during those precious, intimate ho
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One RAIN SLASHED FROM the sky, obscuring the rising sun and slowing the car’s climb up the treacherous mountain roads. Aching from driving all night, Jared gripped the steering wheel in white-knuckled ferocity, the elements threatening to pull the vehicle out of control in an eerie echo of the way he felt inside. As if he were coming apart. Crashing and burning in a conflagration even more soul-destroying than the one that had killed his wife and unborn child ten long years ago. Because he hadn’t loved Jenny. Not the way he loved Emma. And he hadn’t ever gotten to know or grown to cherish his coming child the way he cherished David Harrison. A man was supposed to protect the people he loved, J
ared thought. Stand between them and all the pain the world could hurl their way. He was supposed to be strong enough, wise enough, brave enough to hold fast, like the mountain cliffs even time could not wear down. But he was failing. Failing Emma. Failing Davey. Just as he’d failed
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two MACHINES WHIRRED, tubes snaking across the hospital bed where Davey lay unconscious, his arm in a white plaster cast, his bandaged face swollen and misshapen from where he’d hit the steering wheel, a neat row of stitches marching across the cut on his left cheek. The students had practically come to blows over who would donate the blood Davey needed so desperately. But surprisingly it was Emma and Jared who’d been the perfect match. They’d lain on the gurneys beside each other, willing their life force and love for the boy into every drop of blood the nurses drew. But even that hadn’t been strong enough. For three days Davey hadn’t wakened. Just lain there, so white, so helpless, so young. Until Davey regained consciousness, there was no way to tell how bad the damage would be. Whether that hungry mind of his would be as broken as his arm. Whether he’d ever recover enough to go back to school, to earn his degrees, to work at Jared’s side in the science that he loved.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three JARED PULLED HIS RENTAL car into the gravel driveway and looked up at the Civil War era house looming against the horizon. Destination by default. He wasn’t even sure the family would be here at the moment. But he knew eventually at least one of the McDaniels would have to show up at the bed-and-breakfast Emma’s mother and aunt ran. He remembered the way Emma’s face had shone when she talked about how much her family loved this place with its vast kitchen and treasure-trove attic, its welcoming veranda and the stained-glass window with a peacock displaying jewel-toned feathers. Emma’s smile had warmed with affection as she’d spoken of the ghost she’d believed in as a little girl. But Emma’s eyes, those beautiful dark banished fairy eyes, had shone even brighter as she’d shared the memories she and her mother had made from the time Emma was ten, the six years they’d lived in the private section of the house. He scanned the grounds. The driveway was empty, late-Septe