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The Witch's Journey Page 9
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“Elsa likes well-built men but I bet she isn’t warmer with any of you than she was with me.”
“Leave now or you will be most regretful,” Faolan warned.
“Gonna make me?”
“You doubt I could?” Faolan challenged.
“Don’t, Faolan!” Angelique grasped his hand. “He’s definitely not worth getting into trouble over.”
“Go back to your table or I’ll have the bouncer throw you out,” Danhoul ordered.
“For talking? It’s a free country,” Jake sniped.
“Go sit with your friends,” Angelique said.
“Why would I listen to you, Elsa?”
“Maybe you don’t have friends,” Newt said.
“Don’t, Newt. We should just go.”
“You’ll not permit this offensive sot to make you leave before you’re ready!” Faolan said, hands clenching.
“Let me by, Faolan. Let’s go home now!”
“Elsa hates conflict. She’s as passionate in her disagreements as she is in bed. Kind of a waste of that sexy body.”
“Go to hell!” Angelique said.
Faolan angrily started toward him.
“Faolan, don’t lay a finger on him. You’d be in trouble for throwing the first punch. I’d be far more upset about that.”
Faolan inhaled deeply several times, sat down and took her in his arms again, glaring at the vexing man.
“Men who malign a woman are often only makin’ up for somethin’…usually a narrow mind or a small cock.”
Danhoul smirked and Newt laughed uproariously.
The man’s face went bright red. He stepped toward them, but Danhoul stood.
“Go back to your table or you’ll be dealin’ with three men and a woman with karate training.”
“Four men,” Tristan said as he approached. “Get the feck away from Sammy now.”
Jake glared, but went back to his table and Angelique slowly exhaled.
“That’s the buffoon Mrs. Boyle mentioned?” Faolan asked.
She nodded. “He didn’t seem that interested when we were together, but he reacted badly when I ended it.”
“You crushed his overinflated ego,” Newt said.
“Let’s forget about him and enjoy our evening,” Angelique urged though she trembled.
Faolan kept his arm around her. She leaned against him.
“I’ll go sing the song you requested,” Danhoul said smiling at Angelique.
The color slowly returned to her cheeks, but she held Faolan’s hand tightly. He felt a nearly overwhelming need to protect her. He wanted to break that bastard’s neck or run him through with a sword. The way of dealing with such an irksome man in his own time was much preferred.
After another pint and listening to the music, Angelique relaxed and smiled again. They were all laughing together. He’d kissed her a couple of times. She’d returned the kisses, the last heatedly. Faolan was about to suggest they go to her home and perhaps to her bed, when Angelique’s phone made a sound. She glanced at it, tossed it in her satchel, appearing noticeably discomposed.
“What is it, Angel?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong, Angie?”
“I need some air. Alone!” she said.
Faolan stood to let her by. She hurried through the outside door.
“What do you think’s distressed her?”
“A text,” Newt said. “Pass me Angie’s phone.”
“I’ll not look through her satchel. A woman’s possessions are her own and not to be interfered with by any man.”
“You really are chivalrous. But if you want to know what upset her, you’ll let me look. I have a hunch.”
“Tell me.”
“I think it’s a dick pic.”
“A what?”
“A photo of that bastard’s dick,” Newt said motioning to the repugnant Jake.
Faolan’s body stiffened. He passed the satchel to Newt who found Angelique’s pink phone.
“You know the secret code she speaks of?”
“Her passcode. Yeah, I know it. She always picks her birthday, which is Halloween, so 1031 for future reference.”
Newt glanced at the phone and shook his head. “Yep.”
“He sent her an image of his cock?” Faolan asked in disbelief, now thoroughly disgusted.
“He did and—you weren’t far off on your assumption. He’s absolutely making up for something. He added the text: You’ll eventually miss me and this.”
Faolan stood, intending to throttle the perverse bastard, when Angelique returned. Seeing her phone on the table, she glowered at Newt, then at him.
“Newt, you need to respect my privacy. And, Faolan, sit down before you’re thrown in jail for fighting. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I’ll handle this.”
Chapter Ten
“Tristan, I need ice,” Angelique stated.
“You’re all drinkin’ ale, Sammy. Why ice?”
“I don’t mean a couple of ice cubes.”
“Okay.” Tristan grinned, passing her a pitcher.
Angelique marched over to Jake who was sitting with a couple of other guys. He stared as she approached.
“If I can’t be near you, Elsa, you’d better stay the hell away, too.”
She promptly poured the pitcher of ice over his head. He squealed and jumped up.
“Bitch! What the hell?”
“Just living up to the fond name you’ve given me. If you ever…ever send me another photo of any part of you, I’ll forward it to your mother and grandmother, your priest, your boss and the Boston PD. I’ll tell them about you stalking me, the inappropriate emails, texts and photos. I could have you sent to prison.”
“Lower your fucking voice!”
“Give me your phone!” she demanded.
“No way!”
“Give it to me or I will let Faolan deal with you.”
“What is he? Your fucking bodyguard?” Jake sneered.
“I am her guardian and her man,” Faolan said striding toward them looking very tall, strong and unquestionably threatening.
“The phone!” She gestured. Jake finally passed it to her.
“Just delete your information. All my business contacts are on there so don’t…”
She dropped it in his pint of beer.
“You fucking bitch!”
He looked like he might hit her. She went into defense stance but also stood blocking Faolan from getting to Jake.
“You know Sammy could clean your clock, right?” Tristan said, obviously coming to see the excitement.
Jake glared, taking a step forward so Angelique forcefully kicked him against the chair, breaking it as he crashed to the floor. Faolan wanted to kill him. Angelique saw the unmistakable look in his eyes. If he got near Jake, he just might.
Angelique took Faolan’s hand, noting his entire body was rigid with fury. She touched his lightly stubbled cheek, then pulled his head to her and kissed him to distract him. Her tongue in his mouth, she pressed her body against him. When she ended the kiss he looked down at her, his fury visibly abated.
“Obviously our Sammy’s not icy when she’s with the right guy. You, stinkin’ lowlife, are goin’ to be thrown in a cab,” Tristan said to Jake, “and banned for good from this pub.”
“I called the cops,” Newt added though Angelique hadn’t seen him approach. “Come near Sam again, you’ll be sorry.”
*
Back home, Angelique seemed unsettled.
“I’m sorry I put a damper on our evening,” she said.
“You! Why would you think you had anythin’ to do with it? It was that offensive, brutish boor. I was glad to see you defend yourself, but would’ve gladly run him through with a sword. I’d prefer to protect you.”
“I appreciate your protectiveness, but it’s a good thing you didn’t have your sword. You’d be in jail. It would’ve been a huge mess. He could press charges against me. I doubt he would with all I have on him. I’m really glad I didn’t resort
to using magic.
“But now, I’ve tidied the spare room for you. The bed’s made up. It’s more masculine with a nautical theme. “There’s a shower in the bathroom off that bedroom, towels in the linen closet. I need to soak in a bath and go to bed. Good night, Faolan.”
He would have liked to comfort her in bed, but could see she was no longer inclined to romance.
“Sleep well, Angel.”
*
“You’re up early. I should’ve shown you how to use the Keurig since I didn’t program the coffeepot.”
“I’d prefer to sit together to drink coffee.”
Angelique glanced at him but turned away.
“I have questions,” Faolan said.
“I’m sure.”
“Foremost, why won’t you meet my eyes now?”
She glanced up but seeing his amazing eyes only made her sigh.
“My presence vexes you?”
“I’m not vexed, just worried.” She sighed again.
“Tell me of the peculiar shiny black mirror in your sitting room.”
Angelique looked in the living room. Faolan pointed to the TV. That made her smile and his responding smile made her heart skip.
“It’s a television. You watch moving images and hear sounds on it. It’s for entertainment. That’s what Newt and I refer to when we talk of television or movies. We’ll watch something sometime—if you’d like. I’d prefer you tell me what you want to do. I can’t presume to know, which is what I did yesterday.”
“I’d like to watch this television with you or perhaps attend a Red Sox game.”
“You saw the photo of Newt, Dad and me at the game?”
He nodded.
“That was a long time ago. Are your parents living?” she asked, gesturing to the kitchen.
Faolan followed and watched her make coffee.
“Neither lived to see the age I am now.”
“Was it a sickness?”
“They met a more violent end,” he said but didn’t elaborate.
“I didn’t mean to intrude. You lived in a dangerous, uncertain time…live in an uncertain time,” she rephrased.
He only nodded.
“Your other questions?”
“Why do you keep colorful fish inside the clear glass vessel? The whole lot wouldn’t make an adequate meal.”
“It’s called an aquarium. They’re not to eat. I went snorkeling at the Great Barrier Reef and saw bright-colored fish. They remind me of that.”
“What’s this?”
“It’s a water cooler for drinking water.”
“Doesn’t cold water spray directly from this spout?” He pointed to the faucet.
“Yes, but it’s full of chemicals—chlorine and fluoride. I prefer spring water although Newt says it’s probably polluted, just like the ocean.”
She looked out the window toward the harbor. He was silent for a bit.
“No other questions?”
“I have considerably more, about the offensive damn bounder who insulted you last evenin’ but mostly I’d like to know why you avoid my gaze.”
She mixed up the Hollandaise sauce, warmed the English muffins and ham, washed and cut some fresh fruit, all the while wondering how to reply.
“Would you pour our coffee?”
He seemed eager to help.
“Do you simply avoid questions you don’t wish to answer?”
“I’m thinking of a reply.”
“I see,” he said passing her a coffee. She noticed he’d already added cream and probably her teaspoon and a half of organic sugar. He paid attention to detail. He remained a little too close, sipping his black coffee and gazing at her.
“Do you want me to be honest?”
“I prefer honesty.”
“I’m very…almost crazily attracted to you. Most healthy straight women would be because you’re so freakin’ hot, but for me, that’s uncommon. I find myself longing for your kiss and your touch. I admit I want to be with you, but I’m not like that, Faolan. I don’t judge others who can easily share a night or two of uncommitted sex. They’re likely happier and more content, but if we slept together, I’d fall for you. It’s easier if we’re just friends.”
Finally meeting his captivating eyes she felt weak at the knees. Everything about him made her want to retract her last statement and jump his bones. God, he was gorgeous, handsome, tall and muscular, his scent so appealing. Wearing a T-shirt and loose pajama pants, he made her more aroused than she’d ever been.
“Were you not intimate with the lowly cad with the unpleasant, disrespectful demeanor whom you admittedly didn’t care for?”
“A couple of times and I’ve regretted it since. I’m not blaming Newt or Dad but their damn pressuring me to get out, not be alone, partly influenced my decision. But maybe I slept with Jake because I wasn’t actually attracted to him and knew it wouldn’t last.”
“You wholly perplex me, Angelique.”
“I perplex myself half the time, Faolan.”
“We’re simply to ignore this powerful attraction between us, then?” he asked.
“You could stay with Newt. You’d need to return when the moon’s full. Reversal spells must be done in the same location. But if we avoid…”
“I’d like to stay with you, Angel. I very much like bein’ with you. Show me your world in your time.”
“I’d like that, too. But I can’t even look at you without wanting more. God, Faolan, I might’ve had sex with you in that freaking cab last night and I’m never impulsive.”
“Do you think this intense desirous feelin’ isn’t reciprocated? Do you believe I don’t want you every time I gaze into your beautiful eyes or look at these lovely full lips?”
He softly grazed her bottom lip with his thumb and she shivered. “It’s an uncommon attraction I feel for you, also. I admit, it’ll be torturous if I can’t have you.”
He stepped closer, set his coffee down, gently pushed her hair behind her ear, then grazed her temple to her chin, across her throat and along her collarbone to rest near her cleavage. She gasped, but moved away.
“How torturous would it be spending the rest of my life knowing I’d probably never feel this attraction again?”
“Perhaps you’re correct.” He sighed.
“I should get Tristan… Shit!” she exclaimed.
Distracted, she’d cut herself. Blood spurted from her finger. Faolan grabbed a tea towel and wrapped it around her hand.
“That’s damn deep, Angelique.”
“Fill the sink with water,” she instructed and he did.
As she submerged her hand, the water swirled and bubbled. When she pulled it out and showed him, there was only a faint scar.
“Water heals me.”
Faolan sat down looking astonished.
“I was going to say Tristan, Danhoul and Newt should show you around because I’m pretty boring.”
“Clearly you’re anythin’ but boring. You’ll not dissuade me from wantin’ to be near you,” he said. “May I help with somethin’?”
“If you’d set the fruit on the table, I’ll poach the eggs. Breakfast will be ready soon.”
She closed her eyes thinking she was so damn ready, it took her breath away. Should she just give in to her desires? Would she always regret not being with him?
Her phone started playing a tune.
“What’s that?” Faolan asked.
“My father wants to talk with a video call. It allows us to see each other.”
“Then you must. I’d give much to see or speak with my parents.”
“Did you attend the same guilt the hell out of me school as Newt?”
“I only want you to realize the good fortune of maintaining the option.”
“No guilt there!”
“Shall I speak with him, then?”
“It’d make Dad happy to see a man here in the morning wearing pajamas.”
“What father would wish for…?”
“A twenty-fir
st-century father who doesn’t want his daughter to embarrass him by becoming a crazy cat lady.”
He looked baffled. “Cat lady?”
“Never mind.”
“Here?” He pointed to the accept button.
She nodded and Faolan answered as she poached the eggs.
“Angelique?”
Her father’s startled face amused her. She glanced at Faolan staring at the phone almost wishing he was wearing his pirate’s hat.
“Hello, sir,” Faolan said.
“Sir?”
“Hey, Dad, this is Faolan. He’s visiting from Ireland.”
“He’s staying with you?”
“Yes.”
“How was your birthday?”
“Newt and I hung out.”
“Faolan’s just arrived?” her father asked.
“He was kinda my birthday present.”
Her father’s eyes widened again, probably thinking Faolan was an escort.
“Where in Ireland are you from, Faolan?”
“I was born near Kinsale.”
“Faolan’s a sailor,” Angelique said.
Her father’s eyebrows knitted disapprovingly.
“Dad, remember, I’m twenty-two.”
“How’s the weather?”
“It’s November in Boston so not as warm as Greece.”
“I do miss autumn in New England and seeing the leaves change.”
“It is awesome,” she agreed.
“Have you thought any more about going back to medicine, Angie? I could talk to…”
“I’d love a career that ensures I’d be away from my family more than home,” she interrupted.
“I don’t see you headed for marriage and family either. You’re not exactly a social butterfly. Medicine’s at least prestigious. Interior design and history, Angie, really! You’re wasting…”
She ended the call and growled.
“That’s a new sound,” Faolan said.
“One my father often evokes. He disapproves of everything I do.”
“He’s calling again. May I see what he wishes to say?”
“Go for it, but I’ll be outside.”
She took her plate and coffee, kicking the door shut.
*
They sat at the table outside on what she called a veranda. She turned to face the ocean, her knees pulled to her chest.
“Your father says you must contact your mother’s solicitor.”