and that part of herself locked tight in a silver box.'
Because she could see it, feel it, even as she spoke, Jude shook her head, moved through the tilted gravestones to lean back against the round tower. The bay swept out below, a spectacular blue where the red boats bobbed, but she was caught in the story.
'What happens next?' she asked Aidan.
'She mounted the horse with him,' he continued, picking up the threads she'd left for him as if they'd been his own. 'Bringing with her only her faith and her love, and asking for nothing but his in return. And at that moment, the silver box, still clutched in the greedy hands of the witch, burst open. The voice trapped inside flew out, a golden stream that winged its way over the hills and into the heart of the maid. And as she rode off with her man, her voice, more beautiful than ever, sang out. And the birds stilled to listen, and the angels smiled again.'
Jude sighed. 'Yes, that was perfect.'
'You've a way with telling a story.'
The words thrilled her, rocked her, then made her feel shy all over again. 'No, not really. It was easy because you'd started it.'
'You filled in the middle part, and in a lovely way that makes me think not all the Irish has been drummed out of you after all. There now,' he murmured, pleased. 'You've a laugh in your eyes and a flower in your hair. Let me kiss you now, will you, Jude Frances?'
She moved fast. Caution, she told herself, sometimes had to be quick. Ducking under his arm, she scooted around him. 'You'll make me forget why we walked here. I've read about round towers, but I've never seen one up close.'
Patience, Gallagher, he thought, and tucked his thumbs in his pockets. 'Someone was always trying to invade and conquer the jewel of Ireland. But we're still here, aren't we?'
'Yes, you're still here.' She turned a slow circle, studying hill and cliff and sea. 'It's a wonderful spot. It feels old.' She stopped, shook her head. 'That sounds ridiculous.'
'Not at all. It does feel old-and sacred. If you listen well, you can hear the stones sing of battle and of glory.'
'I don't think I have the ear for singing stones.' She wandered, skirting the carved markers, the graves laden with flowers, and picked her way over the rough ground. 'My grandmother told me she used to come up here and sit. I bet she heard them.'
'Why didn't she come with you?'
'I wanted her to.' She brushed her hair back as she turned to face him. He fit here, she thought, with the old and the sacred, with the songs of battle and glory.
Where, she wondered, did she fit?
She walked inside the old ruin where the sky soared overhead for a roof. 'I think she's teaching me a lesson- how to be Jude in six months or less.'
'And are you learning?'
'Maybe.' She traced her fingers over the ogham carving, and for a moment, just a moment, felt them tingle with heat.
'What does Jude want to be?'
'That's too general a question, with too many simple answers like happy, healthy, successful.'
'Aren't you happy?'
'I-' Her fingers danced over the stones again, dropped away. 'I wasn't happy teaching, in the end anyway. I wasn't good at it. It's discouraging not to be good at what you've chosen as your life's work.'
'Your life is far from done, so you've more than time enough to choose again. And I'll wager you were better at it than you decided to believe.'
She glanced up at him, then began to walk out again. 'Why would you think so?'
'Because in the time I've spent with you I've listened to you, and learned.'
'Why are you spending time with me, Aidan?'
'I like you.'
She shook her head again. 'You don't know me. If I haven't figured myself out yet, you can't know me.'
'I like what I see.'
'So it's a physical sort of attraction.' That quick brow quirked again. 'And is that a problem for you, then?'
'Yes, actually.' But she managed to turn and face him. 'One I'm working on.'
'Well, I hope you work fast because I want the pleasure of you.'
Her breath clogged and had to be released slowly and deliberately. 'I don't know what to say to that. I've never had a conversation like this in my life, so obviously I don't know what to say to that, except something that's bound to sound incredibly stupid.'
He frowned as he stepped toward her. 'Why would it sound stupid if it's what you're thinking?'
'Because I have a habit of saying stupid things when I'm nervous.'
He slipped the flower stem deeper into her hair as the wind wanted to tug it free again. 'I thought you sang when you were nervous.'
'One or the other,' she muttered, moving backward to keep what she thought was a safe distance.
'You're nervous now?'
'Yes! God!' Knowing she was close to stuttering, she held her hands up to hold him off. 'Just stop. I've never had anything tie me up like this. Instant attraction. I said I believe in it, and I do, but I've never felt it before. I have to think about it.'
'Why?' It was a simple matter to reach out, grab her by the wrists, and tug her forward against him. 'Why not just act on it when you know it'll feel good? Your pulse is jumping.' His thumbs skimmed over her wrist. 'I like feeling it leap like that, seeing your eyes go cloudy and dark. Why don't you kiss me this time and see what happens next?'
'I'm not as good at it as you are.'
Now he laughed. 'Jesus, woman, you're quite the package. Let me decide for myself if you're good at it or not. Come on and kiss me, Jude. Whatever happens next is up to you.'
She wanted to. Wanted to feel his mouth against hers again, the shape and texture and flavor of it. Just now his lips were curved, and the light of fun was in his eyes. Fun, she thought. Why couldn't it just be fun?
With his fingers still lightly braceleting her wrists, she leaned toward him. And he watched her. She rose onto her toes, still his eyes stayed on hers. Tilting her head just slightly, she eased up to brush her lips over his.
'Do it again, why don't you?'
So she did, mesmerized when his eyes stayed open, compelling hers to do the same. She lingered longer this time, brushing left, then right. Fascinating. Experimenting, she scraped her teeth lightly, over his bottom lip and heard her own quiet sound of pleasure as from a great distance.
His eyes were so blue, as vivid as the water that stretched to the horizon. It seemed her world turned that single, marvelous color. Her heart began to pound, her vision to blur as it had that first time at Maude's grave.
She said his name, just one sigh, then threw her arms around him.
The jolt rocked him to the soles of his feet, the sudden heat, the abrupt burst of power that whipped out of her and snaked around him like rope.
His hands streaked up, over her hips, her back, into her hair to grip hard and fast. The kiss changed from a coy brush and nibble to a wild war of tongues and teeth and lips where body strained to body and pulse thundered against pulse.
In that warm cascade of sensation, she lost herself. Or perhaps she found the Jude that had been trapped inside her-like a voice locked in a silver box.
Later, she would swear she heard the stones sing.
She buried her face in the curve of his neck and gulped in the scent of him like water.
'This is too fast.' Even as she said it she locked her arms around him. 'I can't breathe, I can't think. I can't believe what's going on inside my body.'
He gave a weak laugh and nuzzled her hair. 'If it's anything to what's going on inside mine, we're likely to explode any second here. Darling, we could be back at the cottage in minutes, and I'd have you in bed in the blink of an eye. I promise you we'd both feel a good deal better for it.'
