The Immortal Highlander by Karen Marie Moning Page B

dark, snowy night so long ago. Three days later her mother was gone.
    “Who taught you how to hide from us?” it pressed. “Not that you did a very good job at it.” A smirk curved its sensual lips. “But then, women never have been able to keep their eyes off me.”
    “Oh, you are
so
arrogant. I just couldn’t figure out if you were a fairy or not,” Gabby snapped.
    A dark eyebrow arched. “And you thought the answer to that question might be found in my pants? That’s why you were looking there?” Its dark gaze shimmered with amusement.
    “The only reason I looked there,” she said, flushing, “was because I couldn’t believe you would just so blatantly . . . re-rearrange your—your . . .” She trailed off, then hissed, “What
is
it with men? Women don’t do things like that! Move their . . . their personal parts about in public.”
    “More’s the pity. I, for one, would find it quite fascinating.” Its gaze dropped to her breasts.
    The raw sexual heat in its gaze made her nipples tighten. Made her shiver. How could its mere gaze have as much tactile impact as if it had dragged a velvety tongue across her skin? “It was your eyes that threw me,” she gritted. “I thought all fairies had iridescent eyes. I was off-kilter, trying to figure out what you were.”
    “My eyes,” it said lazily, gaze raking slowly back up to her face. “I see. So how is it you learned to hide?”
    Gabby blew out a breath. “My grandmother was also a
Sidhe
-seer. She raised me. But she’s dead now. I’m the last.” She couldn’t resist asking, “So why don’t you have iridescent eyes? And why do you bleed?”
    “Long story,
ka-lyrra
. And one you’re about to get very involved in.”
    At that, another shiver kissed her spine. “You’re really not going to kill me?” she said warily. She was exhausted; mentally, physically, and emotionally wrung out. Her head was still pounding from head-butting the fairy, and she was desperate for reassurance, any reassurance. Even if it came from her enemy.
    “Oh, no,
ka-lyrra,
” it purred silkily. “That would be such a waste. I have far better uses for you than that.”
    Well, she’d gotten her “reassurance.”
    Too bad it wasn’t even remotely reassuring.

6
    Far better uses indeed,
Adam thought, leaning back in his chair, watching emotions skitter across her delicate features like sunlight rippling across a loch. Anger warred with exhaustion, frustration dueled with fear.
    By Danu, she was beautiful. But beauty alone had never been enough to pique his interest. Passion was his magnet. Mortal fire drew his immortal ice.
    And what a fiery thing she was. Defiant. Brave. Aggressive. The golden glow of her immortal soul illuming her from within was more vibrant, more intense than most humans, a hot amber aura surrounding her, marking her as a veritable tempest-in-a-teapot of passion. Half his size and still she’d fought him like a wild thing, a hissing spitfire with a lethally hard head and deadly knees; and although he’d just suffered more pain in the past half hour than he had in his entire existence, he was not particularly displeased. Pissed off in a fundamentally male way, but not displeased.
    He had his very own
Sidhe
-seer. One who made him burn with lust. Touching female flesh on a human body was exquisite. He’d been right: Sex in human form was going to be incredible, a new experience, a rare thing in an immortal’s existence, and all the sweeter for it. Merely crushing her against the door, feeling her generous, sweet ass cushioning his cock had made his body shake with desire.
    Shake. Him. He’d never trembled in his life. Never suffered even the mildest involuntary shudder.
    A shameless voyeur, he’d spied on lovers uncounted over the millennia, avidly watching them, studying their bedplay. He’d watched giants of men, hardened warriors with scarred bodies and iced hearts, men made brutal by war and famine and death, tremble like inexperienced