An Enchanted Spring

Mists of Fate #2

A twist of fate has left Aidan MacWilliam, younger brother of a medieval Irish laird, trapped in the future. Though he’s become a successful entrepreneur in the twenty-first century, Aidan still can’t banish thoughts of the world he left behind. In search of distraction, he heads to New York to scout a publicity manager for his cousin’s matchmaking firm, Celtic Connections.

Emmaline Perkins is the perfect candidate. A PR expert and closet medievalist, Emma has always put work before her social life. When her ex-fiancé resurfaces and threatens her livelihood, her home, and ultimately her safety, a new client proposes an offer she can’t refuse – a job, travel, and security.

 

As they fall for each other, Emma struggles to keep her professional and personal lives separate, and Aidan’s determined to meld them together. When it’s clear Emma’s ex will stop at nothing to claim her, Aidan realizes that the question is not where she’ll be safe, but when

Excerpt

He stopped directly in front of her, his body inches from hers, and slowly leaned in. Emma’s breath hitched, and her body went on full alert, her senses hyperaware of him. His clean scent filled her nose, and his nearness made her knees turn to jelly. When her eyes locked on his clean-shaven face, it took every fiber of her being not to rise up on her toes and run her tongue along his jawline.

 

His eyes met hers, and she saw it—raw hunger. As he raised his hand slowly, she parted her lips, hoping for a second taste of Aidan MacWilliam.

 

The sound of something rustling above her head forced her to look up. Aidan brought a bag of coffee down to the counter and trapped her between his arms.

 

She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to move.

 

They stood like that for a long moment before he shook his head a little, as if questioning his sanity, before he placed his hand on her jaw, tugged it open, and melded his firm lips to hers. Her eyes fluttered closed of their own accord, and she was suddenly enveloped in his arms, his hand stroking her neck. He cradled her head and flicked his tongue to hers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brought them up to his neck, as he kissed her gently, carefully, as though she would break.

 

She sighed softly and leaned into him, and he growled into her mouth. Aidan kept one hand in her hair, his fingers gentle, and pressed his other hand into the small of her back, bringing her body flush with his. He deepened the kiss, devouring her in the best of ways. Emma felt cherished, branded, and hot all over.

 

She pressed into him harder, and he slid his hand up her spine, sending chills throughout her overheated body. She ran her fingers through his hair, surprised at its softness. He drew her attention away from wandering thoughts, though, when, without breaking the kiss, he grasped her waist and lifted her onto the counter. He angled her head and kissed her as though his life depended on it.

 

She lost all coherent thought.

 

His hands were on her back, her shoulders, her hair, her legs. She dragged her hands up his abs, feeling the ridges of muscles and flesh; she wanted to tear his shirt off and kiss him everywhere, all at once.

 

“Ahem.”

 

Dimly, she registered that someone was standing on the other side of the island, and she tried to disengage from Aidan.

 

“Kitchen’s closed,” Aidan said, his voice rough. He rested his forehead against Emma’s.

 

“Let me know when it’s open, all right? I need some coffee before I start working,” Colin replied, the grin in his voice unmistakable. A few seconds later, a door opened and closed.

 

They looked at each other for a moment, breathing hard, and didn’t say anything. Aidan flicked his gaze to her lips, and kissed her hard and deep before pulling away. “I won’t apologize for that.”

 

More confused than ever, she glared at him. “I don’t know whether to slap you or…or…”

 

His green gaze locked on her for another moment, and he let out a sudden chuckle. “Christ, Emma, what you reduce me to. Kissing you in my cousin’s kitchen.”

 

“That felt more like ravishing,” she snapped before she could stop herself. She slid off the counter.

 

He brought his body against hers once more, and she cursed herself for freezing in place. He leaned down, his mouth on her ear, and ran his tongue along it. “Then you’ve never been properly ravished,” he whispered.

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© 2018 by Nancy Scanlon.

All rights reserved.