I looked at Alanna and sighed. “Alanna, pour yourself some wine and sit here with me.”

She nodded, looking at me oddly, but did as I asked. I think that sometimes it takes her a few minutes to remind herself I’m not going to shriek at her and pounce. But then again, I’ve seen teenagers give me the same kind of startled look, so who knows…

My attention returned to the centaur. “So, are the troops getting ready for battle?” I hoped I didn’t sound too I-don’t-know-what-the-hell-I’m-talking-about-ish.

“Yes. I’ve sent a call to the Plains, and the centaurs are gathering. They should begin arriving within the next few days. Your guard is, as always, ready to protect you and Epona’s Temple. I have called a war council in your name—by the end of the next seventh day the heads of all the Clans will arrive, then you may inform them of what Epona has revealed to you—” he smiled grimly at us “—and we will forge a combined strategy to combat the Fomorian evil.”

“ClanFintan, I would like you to lead that war council.” He started to interrupt and I hurried on, “I would feel secure knowing you are in charge of seeing to our safety.”

“But, my Lady, by right you should lead the council.”

Great.

“Yes, but as my mate I am asking you to assume that particular place of leadership for me.” I crossed my fingers (figuratively) and hoped what I was asking wasn’t creating an enormous war council faux pas. I glanced at Alanna and was glad to see she didn’t appear to be freaking out. Yet.

“If that is what you wish, I will, of course, do my best in your stead.” He sounded hesitant, but I trusted his abilities much more than mine. After all—we were going to war, not studying rhetorical theories of writing succinct essays about war (yawn).

“Thank you. And there is something else I’m worried about.” I looked at Alanna. “When we were studying the map I realized how close Laragon Castle is to Guardian Castle. Has Laragon been notified of what has happened?”

“Yes, carrier pigeons were sent the first day, and centaurs have been deployed to aid them in readying their defenses.”

“So, you think the creatures will not stay at Guardian Castle? You think they will attack again?” My skin crawled at the thought.

“I know little about them, but I do not think they will be appeased with what they have taken.” His words were haunted by the memory of my description of the horror I had witnessed.

“Does nobody know anything substantial about these…things?” Frustration shortened my tone.

“Fomorians.” Alanna helped me with the word.

“Yeah, Fomorians.” I looked from her to ClanFintan. “Didn’t you say you knew something of them from the legends?”

“It is not much. Only that they were defeated in ancient times and banished over the mountains. And that they dabbled in dark powers and drank the blood of living beings.”

More good news.

“They’re friggin vampires!”

“Vampires?” Alanna and ClanFintan spoke together.

Sigh. Guess they’ve never read Bram Stoker.

“Vampires are creatures that live off the blood of others—usually pretty nasty things.” They both looked blank. “They don’t like to travel during daylight. They can be killed only in certain ways, etc., etc., etc….”

ClanFintan’s blank looked suddenly changed. “Perhaps the Fomorians have weaknesses like these vampires.”

“Sounds good—how do we find out if they do?” The three of us looked at each other. Then the lightbulb over my head lit up. Clearly, we needed a teacher!

“Don’t we have a historian?” I turned to Alanna. “You know, a teacher of ancient ideas and stories.”

“Yes, of course, my Lady.” Curiously, she went all pink. Even her ears blushed.

Wonder what’s up with her?

“Good! Could you please contact the teacher, let her know what she needs to research, and bring her to me tomorrow morning, before I have to bless the people?”

“I will, my Lady.” Her eyes shied away from mine and she plucked nervously at her wineglass. (Note to self: look into whatever the hell was the problem between Alanna and the teacher.)

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled.”

There was a knock at the door. This time I had the presence of mind to answer for myself.

“Come on in!”

Staci/Tarah-nymph skipped into the room with a big smile on her gorgeous face.

“My Lady, may I have dinner brought in to you?”

I grinned back at her young exuberance. “Yes, I would like that.”

She moved aside and clapped her hands imperiously. Servants began swarming into the room. They were all carrying trays filled to overflowing with delicious-smelling food.

I grinned at Staci/Tarah-nymph. “Good job!”

“You said you were hungry, my Lady!” She was so excited by my approval I thought she would wiggle out of her porcelain skin.

“Yes, I am hungry.” My eyes found ClanFintan’s and we shared a secret smile.

Yep—we certainly were hungry…

As the servants loaded down our plates Alanna took the opportunity to stand and curtsy to me.

“I will tend to that problem of which we spoke, my Lady.” Then she turned her curtsy to ClanFintan. “I wish you a blessed evening, my Lord.”

“Thank you, Alanna.” His voice was warm.

“Yes, thank you…” I paused so that all the eyes in the room were focused on me, then I continued, clearly so that no one in the room could mistake my words, “My friend. As always, you have my love as well as my appreciation for your loyalty.”

To Alanna’s credit she didn’t blush or look shocked at what everyone else must have considered an uncharacteristic outburst from me. She just shot me a grateful look and exited gracefully with her head held high. There was a short space of dead air, and then the confused and silent servants followed her. (Although I did notice that the adorable Staci/Tarah-nymph was grinning like Saks Fifth Avenue Barbie as she led the exit.)

Rhiannon had been such an incredibly hateful bitch.

The door clicked closed.

I was starving (in all senses of the word).

And now that we were alone I felt incredibly nervous. I found myself lavishing intense interest upon the food on my plate.

“Gosh, this looks wonderful.” I enthusiastically stabbed a piece of something that looked like chicken and popped it into my mouth.

“Yes…wonderful.” That husky tone was back in his voice. It sent shivers from my back teeth to my toes. And everywhere in between.

His eyes locked with mine. His elbow was resting on the crest of the chaise lounge. His other hand held his wineglass. He wasn’t even pretending interest in the food.

I swallowed hastily. “Aren’t you hungry?”

His slow smile drew my eyes to his wonderfully full lips. “No. I ate before I came to your chamber.”

“You did!” I sputtered, but at least food didn’t dribble out of my mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have eaten earlier, too.”

“I enjoy watching you eat.” His voice was deep and intriguing. “You do so love your food.”

Well, he had me there.

I still felt uncomfortable. “But I don’t want to eat alone.”

He looked surprised. “But you are not dining alone. I am here.”

“You sure are,” I mumbled through the stuff that tasted like chicken.

He laughed. “You have such an odd way of speaking. I did not know that about you.”

“Well, you learn something new every day.”

“That is true.” He looked enlightened.

Guess clichйs worked well in this world.

I chewed my food and studied him. “You don’t look like you’ve been traveling hard, carrying a passenger and going without sleep for the past several days.” Actually he looked strong and refreshed—he looked yummy, to be more precise.

“You were a burden I enjoyed bearing.” His husky voice deepened suggestively. “And my stamina is greater than a human man’s.”

I grabbed a hunk of lobster from an opened tail. It dripped with butter and I sucked it gently into my mouth.

I could hear his breath catch.

Slowly, I licked the liquid from my lips. “So you have mentioned before.”

“Yes, so I have.” I was pleased to notice his reply sounded strained.

“I don’t think I thanked you for following me. It would have been unimaginable without you. Thank you.”

The fine lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “You are very welcome. The next time you feel the need to embark upon a quest, please allow me to accompany you from its inception.”

Before I sucked another piece of buttery lobster into my mouth, I purred, “I wouldn’t think of leaving home without you.” My tongue slid out to catch a drop of butter from my upper lip, and then I sucked the wet white meat into my mouth, chewing slowly and deliberately. I swallowed and licked my lips (again). “I’ll just call you Mr. American Express.”

He looked hypnotized and vaguely confused.

“American Express? Who is that?”

The lobster was gone so I picked up a sugared strawberry and took it delicately between my teeth. Nipping the end of it gently, I watched him watch me.

“It is someone who allows me to have exactly what I desire.” I sucked the strawberry juice off my middle finger. “Mmm, that is good.”

“Yes, it was.” My, my, my—I didn’t think he was talking about the berry.

We sipped our wine. I attempted to look demure. (I said attempted.) And we studied each other. I could feel the wine bubbling in my head—it had (obviously) already begun to loosen my inhibitions. Okay, let’s face it, I’ve never really had an inhibition problem. But the horse/man issue had seemed a little daunting at first.

And that was it! He had ceased to be a horse/man thing to me. I felt my lips turn up into what I sincerely hoped was a seductive smile. I suddenly understood what Beauty must have felt as she had fallen in love with her Beast. He was my husband, and I wanted him. All I had to do was reach out and touch him.

I put my wineglass down and leaned forward. His right arm was still resting on the curve of the chaise. Slowly, I reached across the short space that separated us and ran my fingers in a caress that moved from the swell of his bicep, down his forearm, and ended at his palm. His hot fingers closed over my hand. He didn’t pull me over to him, like a human man would have. Instead, he stroked my wrist and waited, allowing me to decide when, or if, I wanted to come to him.

And that was a damn easy decision.

I stood and moved around to the other side of his chaise. He shifted his body so that he was facing me. As I might have mentioned before, he’s a big guy. With me standing and him reclining, our heads were still not even, but at least this way he didn’t tower over me. I stepped close to him and was immediately submerged in the inexplicable heat he radiated. Without conscious thought, I lifted my arms and rested my hands on his shoulders. Then, carefully, I slid my hands toward each other, at first loving the soft texture of his vest, then reveling in the springy feel of his chest hair as I found the opening in his vest. I raised my eyes to meet his. He was watching me with liquid intensity.

“I love touching you,” I whispered.

“I am glad of it.”

That voice—I don’t think I had ever experienced any sound as seductive. It was a verbal caress. It ignited flames all over my already sensitized body.

My hands slipped inside the vest and traveled over his broad chest, finally moving downward until I traced the lines of his muscular stomach, lingering on the firm ridges and enjoying the way he quivered under my touch.

Down to where his human body met horse. And my hands stilled.

My hands refused to explore farther; unexpectedly I felt shackled by fear of the unknown. My eyes shot back up to his.

“There is something you must believe.” He spoke with controlled intensity into the silence that had frozen between us. “I would never harm you. You must never fear me.”

“This is all so new to me.” My chin dipped down and I had to look away from him. If only he knew how alien this whole world was to me.

He took my chin in his hand and tilted it up so that our eyes met again. “You have my oath that I will do nothing that makes you uncomfortable.”

“Do you want me?” My voice trembled and I wondered fleetingly if it was from anticipation of a yes, or of a no, as his answer.

“More than I could possibly make you understand.” The erotic velvet had disappeared from his voice, and had been replaced by sad resignation. His hand slid slowly from my chin, and without actually touching my skin, he followed the outline of my shoulder and arm, down to where my hand had stilled against his waist, then he sighed and his hand came to rest against his own side. The heat of that touchless caress made goosebumps rise up and down my body.

The quiet resignation of his reply chased away the last vestiges of my fear. I felt like a diver getting ready to leap from the side of a cliff.

I held my breath and asked, “Would you take off your vest?”

His serious expression shifted into a smile, and he cocked one eyebrow, watching me closely as he pulled off the vest and dropped it to the floor beside us (just like a guy).

He was gorgeous, all bronzed muscles and chiseled lines. My hands found his chest again and I used my fingertips to circle his nipples. He snorted a quick laugh and grabbed my hands.

“Are you ticklish?”

“Just there.” It struck us as funny and we laughed together.

I felt both of us relaxing, and after only a momentary pause I continued my exploration down his chest, back to his rippled stomach, and still farther downward. When my fingertips met his thick coat I glanced up at him. His expression was open and warm; an encouraging smile played on his sexy lips. I looked back down to my hands. His waist was tapered and strong, gracefully merging into sensuous equine lines. Without any further hesitation my hand traveled over his coat.

“You’re beautiful.” I stepped closer to him and my arms slid up around his neck. I finished speaking the thought into his lips. “All of you.”

With a moan, his arms went around me and he drew me against his bare chest. Our lips met and I felt immersed in the familiar taste and heat of him.

I am a serious advocate of long, intimate kissing. There’s something unbelievably erotic about taking a man’s tongue into my mouth, and then exploring his mouth in turn, that makes me begin to feel all tingly just thinking about it. So I took my time. ClanFintan didn’t seem to mind.

The heat of his body was incredibly seductive. As I nibbled on his lips and sucked at his tongue, I could feel him reining in his passion as his breathing grew deeper and his muscles continued to bunch and quiver under my roaming hands. He kept his hands still, resting low on my back, as he allowed me to become comfortable with touching him. The misinformed might think that his reticence would work against his original intention (which, I assumed—as would any American female—was to get into my panties). In truth, this style of seduction, perhaps we should call it the Non-Octopus Technique, was seriously working for him. By way of proof, let me offer the fact that in no time I was rubbing my body against his chest and, well, eventually I found myself reaching down, taking his hand off my waist, and putting it smack onto my boob.