And almost true.
Up on an elbow, he studied Devin. Her back was to him—long and sleek and provocative. The covers came just below her hip at an angle and it was almost as if he were looking at an artist’s rendering of a stunning woman in an elegant repose. She was sleeping soundly. He really shouldn’t wake her. It was nearing midnight.
They’d already had an incredible time playing in the massive claw-foot tub. He could close his eyes and smile and picture her sitting across from him in a swell of bubbles, laughing as they used their toes to investigate and stroke one another, until she’d come into his arms and they’d slid and laughed and made love in the heat and the bubbles and the steam rising around them.
But now, the clock hadn’t quite struck midnight yet.
Still, cruel to wake her…
Maybe he’d just touch. With a feather-light touch, he drew his fingertip down the sleek and sensual line of her back and spine, just to the place where the sheet hid the rise of her hip. Once…and twice…
And then she turned to him with her brilliant blue eyes, a smile curving her lips, and he knew that she had only been drowsing and that she’d felt his first touch and was laughing inside until she’d decided on mercy.
She rolled into his arms, burying her head against his chest and delivering kisses against his flesh. He was instantly aroused, aware that his every muscle seemed to twitch, that she could awake a fire in him instantly, and that she could tear at his heart with a whisper or a word. He felt her move low against him, felt her hair fall upon him like caresses in silk and his arms wrapped around her as he groaned and then pulled her up to him, meeting her mouth with his own with desire and hunger and love. He meant to play, to tease, to worship the pure beauty of her form, and yet the fire burned so quickly that she smiled as she straddled and set atop him, until they rolled again, entwined, and lay side by side, then rolled again, moving, writhing, making love, laughing breathlessly at awkward positions, their laughter fading as urgency prevailed until they climaxed almost simultaneously and fell beside one another—panting for breath.
Then she curled into his arms again. She whispered that she loved him, more than she had ever imagined possible. He returned the words.
“I love you more than life itself,” he vowed.
For a moment, she stared down at him and the solemnity of his words seemed to encase them as if they were one.
“I love your eyes,” he told her.
“My eyes?” she asked.
“Oh, yes.”
“I was thinking of other things I love about you right now,” she said, laughing. And then she abruptly jerked.
Somewhere in the castle, a clock was striking midnight. The sound seemed to reverberate through the stones in the walls.
“Amazing the Karney family has survived so long!” Rocky said, laughing. “How the hell did they ever sleep?”
Devin started to smile again, but then froze.
He did, too.
Along with the sound of the great clock striking midnight, there was another sound.
It was like a cry on the wind, a wolf’s howl, a screaming lament. It was as if the wind roared and the sea churned and all came together in a mighty crescendo.
It was a sound unlike anything Rocky had ever heard before, and looking up at his wife, like a fantastic character of fantasy herself, blue eyes diamond bright and wide, black hair a fan about her pale flesh, Devin spoke softly.
“The banshee,” she said.
Chapter 4
Breakfast was in the pub. It was part of the “bed and breakfast” aspect of the castle. The “pub” didn’t turn into a “pub” until 11:30 a.m. It was then when it opened not just to those staying at the castle, but to visitors staying at other B&Bs or hotels or guest houses in the village.
Some of those staying at the castle hadn’t heard the clock or the strange wailing sound that had seemed to shake the very stone. Some had, and most of them stopped by the booth where Devin ate with Rocky, Kelly, Seamus, and Brendan. Some were regulars for St. Paddy’s at Karney and had known Collum. They offered their sympathy to the family.
And then asked about the wailing sound that had shaken the castle at midnight.
“Ethereal—not of this earth!” and elderly man said.
Devin saw a stricken look in Kelly’s eyes and answered quickly. “Ah, well, we heard it, so it was real and of this earth!” she said lightly.
“It’s the sound of the wind when it strikes against the cliffs below on certain nights,” Seamus explained.
“Hmph!” one woman told them. “It certainly gives credence to those tales told by Gary the Ghost!”
“Wicked cool!” said their teenaged daughter. And the two smiled and chatted and they walked on to their own table.