Spring Storm

Kelly Maher

6470A Glenway Avenue, #109 Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. eBook ISBN 1-59426-559-3 Spring Storm © 2006 by Kelly Maher All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Cover art © 2006 by Stacey L. King Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.

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Spring Storm

Ancient Irish prophecy handed down by the followers of Lugh: And it shall be known that those of my blood will know their destined mates by my signal.

Ancient Irish curse upon the ó Murchadha clan: Grief will forever find you until one of your blood mates with a son of Lugh.

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One

The warm, moist air rolled across the land, setting off sparks as it passed over Gwyn's skin. She shivered. Change comes. A cackle floated on the air from behind her. "It'll do you no good to run. I tried, your mama tried, we Murphy girls are destined to be married to no-good losers who sit around all day, drink their beer and piss away their lives. Take my advice, girl, get yourself a daughter by him and kick him to the curb. Don't wait for twenty years of your life to pass away." Gwyn closed her eyes, resting her head against the windowpane, praying for some relief. "Yes, Nana." She'd been hearing the same advice since she was twelve years old, when she came to live with Nana. She wished her mother were here. Despite all the troubles her father had left them with, her mother always had a smile on her face for Gwyn. "There's hope yet in the world, baby, don't let anyone tell you different." Tell that to the thug who had gunned down her mother and the other clerks as they were leaving the bank that night. Shaking herself, Gwyn turned and crossed the room. "I've got to get back to work, Nana. I'll stop by later when I get off work." Fluffing her hair, Nana shook her head. "Don't bother. It's 4

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bingo tonight and there's a new man down the hall. I need to get there early so that slut Esme don't claim the seat next to him." The slut was seventy-five years old to her grandmother's eighty and didn't need a cane to get around the center. Gwyn rolled her eyes. "All right. I'll be back on Tuesday then." She kissed the papery cheek offered and left her grandmother to her knitting. Closing the room door behind her, Gwyn breathed in the filtered, cool air. Why Nana insisted on leaving her windows open during this early heat wave, she would never know. Glancing at her watch, Gwyn sighed. She had five minutes to make a ten-minute trip. Hopefully, Rick wouldn't be sitting in his usual spot. A wave of heated air smacked her in the face as she left the facility. Glancing to the sky, she saw the black thunderheads rolling in from the east. It was going to be a soaker, and she knew she'd better get a move on. As soon as she got into her old Honda, she cranked up the air conditioning, wishing for a blast, but thankful for the trickle that seeped out from the vents. She adjusted the mirror and winced at her reflection. Maybe she should just call in sick for the rest of the day. Inhaling and exhaling like the meditation tapes taught her, she set her shoulders. Sick days were reserved for when she had to take Nana to the doctor's office. Pushing down on the gas pedal, she flipped on the headlights. The stormy gloom darkened what had been an exceptionally sunny day. She'd only gotten a few miles down the road when the heavens opened. Rain fell in sheets down the windshield, obscuring her view. The wipers flashed back and 5

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forth, doing nothing to combat the deluge. As soon as the lightning lit the road, the thunder boomed. Too late she saw the deer, which was apparently not about to move for her compact car. Yanking the wheel, she swerved off the road. Bouncing down into the ditch, her seatbelt dug into her tender skin. In what felt like hours, but must have been only minutes, she forced her hands to uncurl from the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breath out. Rinse. Repeat. She reached down for her purse and dug out her cell phone. Damn it. No reception. Forget this. As soon as she could, she was calling in sick. Resolving herself to the unexpected shower she was about to receive, Gwyn muscled the driver's door open and climbed out. Surprisingly, there seemed to be little damage to the car. It was just nose down in a ditch. She flipped her soaked hair out of her eyes. There was no way she'd be able to back it up on her own. She could hear her checkbook crying at the thought of a tow bill. It was no use, she'd have to hope there was some other fool on the road with a better cell carrier than hers. And as soon as she called for a tow, she was calling in sick. She grabbed her purse out of the car and slung it across her body. The ditch's wall was steep, but she pulled herself up the side. Lightning briefly illuminated the road. Nothing. Not even the damn deer. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she started to walk. The storm seemed unending. She would have sworn that thunder punctuated every step she took. Sirens wailed behind her. Gwyn jumped to the side just as 6

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the cruiser slowed to a stop behind her. Saying a quick prayer of thanks, she waved her arms. "Rick!" She had never been so happy to see the ticket happy trooper in her life. Hurrying to the passenger's side of the car, she wrenched open the door. And froze. "You're not Rick." He nodded. "No, ma'am. Would you like to get in? I'm sure the rain's not doing you any good." Dim shadows hid his features from her as she squinted for a better view. "Who are you?" "Trooper Aiden Loughlin, ma'am. Would you get in the car, please?" Gwyn narrowed her eyes. "How do I know that you didn't steal Rick's car and are really a serial killer on the prowl?" His white teeth glowed in the sudden flash of lightning, and illuminated the stark planes of his face. His eyes were so bright a green that Gwyn immediately thought of the hills of Ireland that she'd visited in college. He reached for his pocket and pulled out a laminated card. "Here's my ID, ma'am." She took it, wincing as an electric shock jumped from his hand to hers. Aiden Loughlin, Trooper. Height: 6' 2". Weight: 215 lbs. Eyes: Green. Hair: Blond. The description didn't do him justice, and neither did the ID photo. Handing the card back to him, she frowned at the stunned look on his face. He took the card back, and once again, electricity flashed between them. "Weird. It must be this storm. It's pretty crazy." "Must be." Gwyn climbed in and buckled up. He cleared his throat. "Was that your car back in the ditch?" "Yeah. There was a deer in the road, and the stupid thing 7

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froze. I ended up in the ditch." "Are you hurt?" "Just my pride. And, thankfully, it didn't seem that my car was hurt either. I do need to get it out of there before the rain fills the ditch up, though." "I'll take care of it." He pulled the handset that was attached to his shoulder to his mouth and called for a tow truck for her car. The dispatcher's voice was scratchy as she acknowledged the call. "What happened to Rick?" "He's on vacation right now. Can I ask how you know him so well, miss…?" Gwyn grunted as she settled back in the seat, enjoying the goose bumps that raced over her wet skin as it chilled from the air conditioning. "He's written me enough tickets that I could probably forge his signature." "So, if I were to look at his log, I'd be able to find out your name just by counting who has the most tickets?" Gwyn bit back a laugh. "Probably not. Seems like he forever thinks his quota won't be met and everyone gets cited for something. And my name's Gwyn Murphy." "ó Murchadha." "O what?" "ó Murchadha, that's the name the Murphys went by before the British crackdown on all things Gaelic." From the corner of her eye, she caught a faint smile dancing around his lips. "Can't get much more Irish than that can you, Aiden Loughlin?" "So, how come you don't have bright, curly red hair?" "I thought all Irish boys have black hair and blue eyes?" She 8

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batted her eyes at him. Deep, rollicking laughter filled the cruiser. Gwyn felt as if she'd been sucker punched as she watched him catch his breath. If only she could catch hers. "Let me take you back to the station to dry off and I can have your car towed there." "Um, that would be great. Thank you." "Do you have to call anyone?" "Just my work. I just got the excuse I needed to call in sick for the rest of the day." He looked over at her, and she wasn't sure if she could still attribute the goose bumps to the air conditioning. "If you were going back to work, where were you coming from?" "The Regan Manor assisted living center. My nana lives there. I usually have lunch with her on Fridays." "I remember going to the local nursing home when I was a kid to do some service work with my class. Half the time my buddies and I were running away from the little old ladies so they wouldn't pinch our butts. Our teacher told us to be very polite, but not to go near them without a partner." Gwyn laughed, remembering her conversation with her grandmother. "Well, most of them have been without their husbands for a long time, and men are a rare breed in nursing homes, so they're just a bit lonely for some male companionship. You wouldn't believe half the stories that I could tell you." "Try me some time." Gwyn let the smile curl the edges of her lips as she looked at him. "I think I will." By the time they got to the station house, the rain had slowed to a trickle and the sun peeked out around the edges of 9

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clouds. They climbed out of the cruiser and she couldn't help but pause as a faint halo of sun glistened on his cropped blond hair. He looked like the Archangel Michael did in her religion textbooks from grammar school. He pointed over her shoulder to the west. "Check it out." Turning her head, she froze, taking in the beauty. Three perfectly formed rainbows nested inside one another. "Holy Mary, mother of God." "Amazing, isn't it?" "I've never seen three before. Two, kind of, yeah, but never three." Gwyn was sure that she was gaping like a large-mouthed bass. Warm fingers cupped her elbow. Sparks edged once more along her nerves. She looked up to meet his gaze, but was blocked out by the sunglasses he now wore. "Come on inside. You're drenched and you don't want to call in sick because you really are." Gwyn gripped the handle of her bag, reassured by the weight of it. "Thanks." Trooper Loughlin was as good as his word. He snagged one of the female officers, asking her to donate a change of sweats for an hour while he had Gwyn's clothes tossed in the dryer. Once she had changed, he guided her to his desk, where she called in to work. Assuring her boss that the accident was nothing, though she felt a little sore, and that she'd be in first thing Monday, took little time. The hands of the clock seemed to stop, and the activity around the station seemed set to a low hum. Trooper Loughlin brought her a steaming mug of coffee. "I figured that your insides could use some warming to go 10

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with the dry clothes on the outside." Gwyn inhaled the fragrant steam. "Thanks. I'm not really a fan of coffee, but this smells wonderful." "Despite what all the pulp novels say about cop coffee, our lieutenant is what you'd call a connoisseur and won't let us drink anything other than what he deems adequate." Gwyn could detect faint hints of vanilla and clove as she let the warm liquid work its magic. It cascaded down her throat. "Have you heard about a tow truck yet?" "Um-hmm." She looked up to find him staring at her mouth. She edged out her tongue. Lined her lips with it as she tasted the coffee that remained there. Watched as his eyes tracked the movement. Never blinking. A thrill shot down her spine. "Trooper Loughlin." "Aiden." "What?" "My name's Aiden. Please." Nodding her head in acknowledgement, she lifted the coffee cup to her lips once more. "My car? Has it been towed?" "Oh, yes. Larry was already out making the rounds and he was in the middle of pulling it out. Said he recognized it." "He's done enough work on it, he'd better recognize it." "Anyway, he's on his way in with it. Your clothes should be ready soon. Is there anything else I can help you with?" "No, thanks. It's been…interesting." She held out her hand. Her skin heated as he stared at it. Finally, he took her hand. She swore that she saw a blue spark jump from his hand to hers just before they met. Confused, she met his gaze. "What was…" 11

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He shrugged his broad shoulders. "No idea. One of us must be full of static electricity today." "Must be." She nibbled on her bottom lip at the thought. So weird. "Yo, Gwyn, you wanna sign for your car?" They both looked over to the short, wiry man whose voice boomed from across the room. "Yeah, Larry. I'll be out in a couple of minutes." She stood. Inches separated her from Aiden. Achingly short inches. "Well, I guess I'd better, um, get going." Warm air caressed her neck as he blew out a breath. "I guess so. Call me when you get home so that I know you're okay." "Yeah, sure." They stood there, frozen. "Gwyn, I don't got all day. Shake the lead out," Larry called "I've got to go." Aiden only nodded and stepped aside. The air between them felt charged with promise, though she managed not to brush him as she passed. The female officer who'd lent her clothes swiftly retrieved Gwyn's and she hurriedly changed. Larry was waiting in the front next to her car. The clouds had cleared out and the day was sunny again. Nothing but a spring storm. Short and intense. Quickly signing for her car, she promised to square up with Larry the next time she brought in the car. Despite the steam rising from the pavement, as soon as she got in, she kicked on the heat as chills still swept through her from the drenching. She adjusted the mirror. Flushed skin and bright eyes were 12

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reflected back at her. She blew out a breath. Aiden Loughlin. Like the storm, her time with him was short and intense. The drive back to her apartment was blessedly uneventful. When she called the station, she was informed that Trooper Loughlin was out on a call, but the dispatcher would notify him that she called. Gwyn thanked her. Shaking off the heavy feeling that surrounded her like a wet blanket, she headed to the bathroom for a soothing, cool shower.

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Two

"Shit." Aiden couldn't believe it. Could. Not. Believe it. You'll know, son. When I met your mother, sparks flew. "You could have told me that you meant that literally, Dad." Unfortunately, his father was two thousand miles away and unable to hear his complaint. He twisted the cap off his Sam Adams and let the cooled liquid soothe his raw nerves. Gwyn Murphy. Couldn't get more Irish than that. And for a boy from the South Side of Chicago, he knew his Irish. His dad had warned him away from Murphy women, though Aiden had no clue why. He suspected that his dad didn't either, as it seemed to be more of a family legend from beyond the mists of time that Murphy women were bad luck. Gwyn, on the other hand… Aiden thought that he'd be one hell of a lucky man if were able to get close to her. The dispatcher had automatically noted down her number from when she'd called in, in case he wanted to get back to her. He did. Just not for the reasons the dispatcher thought. Maybe. Her hair was the color of the mahogany table he and his dad had built one summer. Rich, deep brown with faint golden highlights. Her eyes almost perfectly matched her hair, too. 14

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Shaking his head to clear the images that filled it with what he wanted to do with that hair, he looked outside. A buck stood at the edge of the woods behind his complex. "Damn." Time froze for a minute, an hour, a day. Aiden would have sworn that the animal was staring straight at him. He blinked, and the buck vanished. Not into the woods, just…vanished. "That's it, no more double shifts for the next few weeks." He took a long drag on the beer. No way was he losing his mind. First, the sparks that appeared any time he and Gwyn touched. Then a buck that disappears at the drop of a hat. He turned on the television. BBC America was replaying the Man U and Arsenal game, and he didn't want to miss it.

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Three

Gwyn had just closed her eyes when the phone rang. "Hullo?" "Gwyn Murphy?" She rubbed her eyes. "Yes?" "This is Aiden Loughlin. From this afternoon?" Gwyn flipped on the table light and sat up in bed, hitching her covers over her chest. "Trooper Loughlin. How did you get my number?" "Aiden, please. The dispatcher noted it down from the caller ID when you called." "Oh." For some reason she felt struck dumb by that. "Isn't it a bit late for you to be calling?" "Yeah, but I just wanted to make sure that you were feeling okay after getting caught in the storm." Gwyn smiled at the faint huskiness in his voice. "I'm fine. Thank you for calling. I was actually just about to go to sleep." "Really? I'm sorry for waking you then." "It's okay. I feel safer knowing that county police force takes the welfare of its citizens so seriously." "Admittedly, some citizens do get more attention than others." She propped her pillows more supportively behind her back and settled in. "I feel special now." 16

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"You are special." "Aiden, you flatter me." "How many men have you set off sparks with just by touching them?" His voice was so serious, her breath caught in her throat. She forced the word out. "None." "That's what I thought. It's never happened to me before either." "The storm. Static electricity?" "Gwyn, once, or even twice, I could write off, but every time we touched?" She kicked off the blankets. In a room that had seemed cool when she climbed into bed, she now felt as if she were a ball of heat lightning ready to explode. "What's your explanation then?" His sigh fluttered over the phone line and through her. "I have no idea. I just know that it's not coincidence, static electricity, or the storm." "Why are you calling, Aiden? Really. Give me the truth." "I've tried to ignore it all night. I can't. We're connected somehow. No woman has left me so on edge or charged, even after we'd parted. I want to explore this…this…tie with you." Gwyn's breath shuddered. She knew what he was talking about, though she couldn't find the words to fully describe it, either. All night she'd felt that if she'd only reach over, he'd be there to take her hand, as if little wires had found some way to bind the two of them together. When she'd closed her eyes to sleep, she half expected to feel his arm settle on to her stomach as he curled up behind her. "Aiden…" Was that reedy voice really hers? 17

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"Yes, Gwyn?" "I'd like to explore it, too." "Thank you. Can I come over?" Gwyn closed her eyes, knowing that the coming change she'd felt earlier was here now, urging her on. "Yes." "Don't hang up, I'm on my cell phone." "Okay." "Go unlock your door, I don't want to wait for you when I get there." "This isn't my cordless phone." "I'll wait." She could hear the grin in his voice. Setting the phone down, she swung her feet off the bed. And yelped. The hardwood floor was decidedly cool. She raced through her apartment, for once glad that she lived on the third floor and didn't have to worry about peeping toms. Flipping the locks and undoing the chain took her only seconds. She crossed her fingers that her only visitor tonight would be Aiden. Hell, if someone came in, she had a police officer on the phone already and on his way. Feeling a bit more secure in the thought, she hurried back to her bedroom and picked up the phone. "They're unlocked." "Good. What are you wearing?" "I don't think we should discuss that if you're about to get into your car and drive. You might have an accident. You do know where I live, don't you?" "Yeah, I cheated and looked your license up." Gwyn twirled the phone cord around her finger. "Where are you coming from?" "I live about fifteen minutes away from you." "I'm surprised that we never met before." She pulled the 18

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covers back over her. If she had to wait that long, she was not going to get cold doing it. "My transfer here only came through last month. I've been working for a special task force for the last couple of years." "Oh." She propped her chin on her upraised knees, not quite sure how to respond to the fact that he wasn't your average everyday trooper. "Gwyn." "What?" "You're thinking too much. What are you wearing?" She looked down at the sheets and duvet covering her. "Flannel." "Traditional girl." "If I was that traditional, you wouldn't be on your way over here." "Point taken. And in my favor." "So, what are you wearing?" His rich laughter curled through her, warming her, heating her. "Jeans, and a flannel. Gym shoes. You know, regular old bachelor gear. I can't wait to toss it into a pile with your flannel, though. As soon as I get there, I'm going to strip you and kiss every inch of you." She fought to keep her breathing steady. Shifting her legs, she tried to ease the tension. "What makes you think I'm not already stripped?" "The flannel?" "My sheets. I'm not actually wearing anything." "Shit." She could hear his breathing accelerate. "Gwyn?" "Yes?" The rasp of his voice barely carried over the phone. "Are 19

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you wet?" "Yes." And growing wetter by the moment. "Touch yourself. Tell me what you feel." "How far away are you?" "Too far. Gwyn, please?" Lying back on the pillows, she propped the phone on her shoulder, freeing both hands. "The room's so cool, but my skin feels like it's on fire. My nipples have been hard since I first heard your voice. Just hearing you say my name turns me on." She rasped her nails over one nipple. And the other. She felt the tug between them and her clit. She sighed. "I feel like my skin's two sizes too small. Everything's so tight. I wish it were you touching me." His breathing grew even heavier. "Soon, baby, soon. Just a few more minutes." She closed her eyes. Letting her legs fall open, she trailed one hand down over her navel, circled her clit once, twice, and dipped down into the honey that had gathered below. She spread it back up, reveling in the slickness. "I'm so ready that you could come into my room and right into me." Panting filled her ear. "I'm pulling into your lot. Which building are you in?" She flicked one finger over her clit, and let her other hand wander down to join the other. "South…east corner." "Wait, Gwyn. Don't come just yet." "I'm not planning to. I want to feel you inside me. Thrusting, taking me." "God." The phone slipped to the side as she inserted two fingers into her aching vagina. "Gwyn?" 20

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She could hear him, calling to her, but she couldn't answer. Lost in a world of vibrant colors, she could only moan. A knock briefly sounded through the apartment. "Aiden!" "I'm here. I'm here." And he was. He didn't bother to undress, only unzip his jeans and pull them and his shorts down. He paused only long enough to slip on a condom. In one, slow heartbeat he was in her, seated to the hilt. Blue sparks filled the air as she closed her eyes. She groaned and wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him closer. The rhythm he set was fast and furious, perfectly timed to what she needed from him. He buried his head into the crook of her neck and bit. She screamed and came. Two quick thrusts later, he joined her. Gwyn fought for her breath. Kind of hard to do with twohundred-plus pounds of man collapsed on to her, but she savored the weight. She ran her hands along his back, fingers tracing the ridges of muscle. He bit her shoulder, soothing the sting with a kiss. "Mmmm. Sweet and salty." Gwyn's laugh turned into a moan as she felt him hardening once again. "How?" He nibbled his way down to her breast where he mouthed a nipple into the center of all sensation. Electricity radiated from where his mouth touched through her entire body. Synapses that she had thought dead from excess only moments ago fired to life. She clenched down on him until he groaned. Flipping over, he seated her fully onto his cock. "Ride, 21

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baby, ride." Gwyn looked down at him. The soft light of her bedside lamp highlighted the ridges of hard muscle and the faint imperfections of scars that dotted the landscape of his skin. She reached out to trace a particularly angry line of red that glided down his ribcage, ending just above his hip. "What's this from?" His hands gripped her hips and guided her into a slow, rocking motion. She closed her eyes, but kept her hand on the scar. "A punk who didn't think that I had the right to slap him into cuffs." "I think there's a bit more to the story than that." He reared up, catching her face in his hands and forcing her to meet his gaze. Shadows floated in the green depths. Deep pools of torment in which she could be lost. "Aiden?" He closed his eyes for a moment and when they opened, she could see a light fighting its way through. "We'll talk later, Gwyn. Just…not now, okay?" Gwyn tunneled her fingers through his silky hair and leaned her forehead against his. "Just so you know, you can't hide from me. If you want to do that, I'm not the woman for you and you're not the man for me, understand?" He tipped her chin up and took control of her mouth. His tongue invaded, inviting hers to dance. She could taste pizza and beer, and an underlying hint of cloves. Firm hands molded themselves around her butt and began the dance of lust, love, once again. Breaking the kiss, she fought for breath. "Aiden?" Keeping his gaze focused on hers, he lay down and pushed 22

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up, forging deeper inside her. She bit her lip. "Gwyn, there'll be some things that I can talk about with you right away and some others that will have to wait. I won't keep secrets from you and I'll let you know if I can't talk about something. Can you live with that?" Looking deep into his eyes she saw the honesty within him. He wouldn't hide or run away. "Yes." His hand moved across her hip to where they were joined. Calloused skin rasped against her clit, striking sparks through her. Adjusting her legs, she pushed up as he pulled out. The long slide of him took her breath away. When she sank back down, she shrieked as the head of his cock came to rest against a place that sent an electric jolt through her. "That's it, baby, come for me." She raked her nails against his chest and clamped down on him. "Not without you." What sounded like a groan choked in his throat as he exhaled. "I'll be right behind you, Gwyn. Always." Their eyes met and, seeing the truth of his words, she flew into the heavens. And he followed.

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Four

Gwyn's eyes fluttered open. She shaded them from the sunlight streaming in through the bedroom windows. Moaning at the pull in muscles not used to last night's excesses, she reached over to cuddle up to Aiden but got only sheets. "Aiden?" "Over here, Gwyn." She blinked and could make out his outline by the window. "Come back to bed." He chuckled. "Come here for a moment." Gathering the sheets around her, she joined him, nestling into the crook of his shoulder. Stealing his mug of coffee for a jolting sip, she nuzzled her cheek against him. "What's up?" "Look over to the southeast." Her gaze followed to where he pointed, and her jaw dropped. "It's the same damn deer that caused me to run off the road." "Really?" Disbelief colored the world. "Believe me, you don't forget a deer with antlers the size of a hat rack for ten-gallon cowboy hats." "That's funny, because it's the same buck outside my apartment last night." Gwyn blinked. It seemed as if the deer looked straight at them. And bowed his head. "Did you see that?" 24

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"Yeah." She looked up at him and saw the puzzled look on his face. Turning back, she saw the deer bound off into the woods. His hand rubbed down her back. "We'll have to tell the forest rangers about it so that they keep an eye open for it." "I'd hate to see it end up as a trophy on some hunter's wall." She looked up at him and met his gaze. "I know what you mean." He leaned down and kissed her, sucking in her lower lip and nipping it. She dropped the sheets. Neither saw the bolt of lightning that struck the ground where the buck had been standing.

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About the Author

Kelly Maher, like Indiana Jones (one of her heroes), is named after the dog. By day, she spends her time telling people where to go. At night, she immerses herself in tales of hot men, hotter women and the love and lust her characters discover. She welcomes readers to visit her on the web at http://www.kellymaher.com or e-mail her at [email protected].

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