Page 99 of Dark Seduction

“Dinna make me cuff ye in the head a second time,” Aidan warned.

Claire couldn’t answer. The stairs were lurching toward her. For one moment, she really believed it was an earthquake. Then Aidan caught her and the stairs leveled and settled where they belonged.

Exhausted, despairing, Claire started to weep.

THREE DAYS LATER, Claire stared at her shoulder in the looking glass in her chamber. The potion had finally worn off and she felt as healthy as ever. Her shoulder had a vivid and unattractive pink scar, but miraculously, otherwise, there was no sign of the recent wound. Yesterday when it had rained, her shoulder had ached. Today it felt fine, but when she reached overhead she was aware of a slight strain.

Ye have yer own powers, Claire. There’s no denyin’ it.

The stone, which Sibylla had stolen, had somehow imprinted her with its power to heal. Claire pulled her sleeve down and glanced at the vase of wildflowers that Isabel had brought to her room. Several days old, they were dying.

She stared at the flowers, thinking about seeing them rehydrate, grow, even blossom. She should have felt foolish. She did not. Nothing happened.

Claire picked a small pink blossom up and held it in her hand. She tried to focus. Instead of returning to its brilliant state of days before, a petal fell to the floor.

She sighed, putting the flower down. Whatever power she might have had, it was gone. Besides, Aidan had helped to heal her, and there was no question that he had some abilities, even if he wasn’t adept at using them all of the time.

Claire became grim. Malcolm was hunting Sibylla. Maybe she was paranoid, but she was afraid it was another trap.

She’d had three days to think about him—about them. It was dangerous feeling about him as she did. It was probably hopeless for her to want him to return her love. Claire knew she couldn’t control her own feelings or her yearning. They were in a relationship, as difficult and strained as it was. It wasn’t going to last forever. At some point, she was going home. But while she stayed in medieval times, she wanted it to work.

Every couple had differences. Arguing because of those differences wasn’t going to bring them closer together. So far, arguing hadn’t accomplished anything positive at all.

Like any couple, modern or not, they were going to have to figure out how to understand each other and compromise.

However, she wasn’t going to blindly obey his orders.

Claire went downstairs and into the great hall. It was early morning and bright light was trying to flood the great room, but unsuccessfully, due to the depth of the numerous windows. Isabel was breaking the fast alone. She smiled at her. “I am so glad that you are up and about,” she said.

Claire smiled back. “Whatever potion they gave me, it kept me weak, tired and in bed, which was the point, I guess. But I feel like myself. Isabel, where is Aidan?”

Isabel started. “He left last night, Claire. He said he had affairs in Paris.”

Claire sat down in sheer dismay. “He left us here—alone?”

“He said he would be back today.”

Her eyes widened but she instantly got it. He was leaping over to Paris and back, never mind the rules—unless, of course, he was hunting evil, in which case he wasn’t breaking any rules. She was about to ask Isabel if she was certain, when Aidan strode into the hall, smiling.

Claire’s eyes widened. He was wearing a cloak that wasn’t remotely a part of the fifteenth century, not even in France, and he was carrying a beautiful gold velvet, gilded rococo chair.

He grinned at them both. “What do ye think?”

Isabel blushed. Claire stood. “You went to France for a chair?”

“Aye.” He set it down next to a table and sofa. “Malcolm owes me the chair but I dinna think he will ever replace it. He can pay me back another way.” He stroked the gilded, intricately carved back. “’Tis a great beauty.”

Claire went to him. “So much for only using your powers to uphold the Code.”

He waved dismissively at her. “Rules, Claire, are made to be broken. What is it yer dyin’ to ask me?”

Claire hesitated, glancing at Isabel.

Aidan walked over to his mistress. He bent, kissed her cheek, murmured to her and she dutifully got up and left the room. Then he faced Claire.

Claire thought about the fact that she actually liked him when he was both a heartbreaker and a chauvinist in the worst way. “Aidan, how can I convince you to take me to Malcolm?”

His eyes widened briefly. “Ye canna.”