bar in a dark blue T-shirt leaning with his hands on the bar as he spoke to someone. He laughed, the sound hitting her straight in the gut, before he grabbed a glass and tilted a spigot of ale to fill it.
She tried to swallow as she took in his dark blond hair that hung just past his chin. He ran his hands through his hair, causing the thick muscles in his arms to bunch and move.
Even from the distance, Iona knew he was the kind of man that would cause her infinite trouble. The kind that left a trail of broken hearts wherever he went.
She told herself to walk away, to forget about the drink. But she wanted a closer look at him, to see the color of his eyes.
So she walked up to the bar and took a seat, her breath locking in her chest when his gunmetal gaze turned to her.
Â
CHAPTER
FOUR
Laith set Keithâs ale in front of him and caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of his eye. He turned with a smile, ready to pour them a drink, and then stopped cold. Iona Campbell had walked into his pub.
He knew her by her picture, but the photo was nothing compared to the woman in the flesh. Her lips, wide and tempting, were quirked in a half-smile, giving her an air of mystery. Her shoulder-length, wavy blond hair was windblown, as if she had been walking among the heather.
She had an air of independence about her that was ⦠enticing. She was tall and slender, her white shirt just tight enough to cling to her breasts. There was a smudge of dirt on her elbow as if she had been lying upon the ground recently.
His gaze returned to her face as she claimed a stool at the bar. She tucked her hair behind an ear, her coffee-colored eyes directed at him. Her skin held a golden glow, denoting that she was often in the sun.
Laith took a step closer, noting the sprinkle of freckles over her nose. âWelcome to The Fox and The Hound. What can I get you?â
âYour best ale,â she said, her lips curving into a deeper smile.
Laith was powerless not to respond. He returned her smile and turned to get her ale. Surely it was a trick of the light or something to cause him to react as if she were the first female heâd seen in a millennia. Once he looked at her again, he would see she was like every other female who walked into his pub.
He finished filling the glass and hesitated for a moment. Laith twisted to the newcomer, and was hit once again by her earthy appeal. If someone asked him, he would call her a child of the forests.
Her smile fell a bit as he stared. Laith shook himself and set the ale in front of her. Their eyes met again, held. He felt an uncontrollable, undeniable pull to this woman and he fought against it. Hard. It was more than just lust. This ⦠feeling ⦠was on another plane altogether.
Nay.
He didnât want to feel anything for Iona. If he did, he might be tempted to be the one to show her the magic of Dreagan and what she guarded.
Bloody hell.
âThank you,â she said and reached for the ale.
Their fingers touched briefly, but that was all it took for a current of pure, utter desire to heat his blood. She jerked her hand away, proving she felt it as well. Her eyes darted to the left before skating back to him.
Laith wasnât sure if he wanted to scream in fury for fate calling his bluff, or jump over the bar and claim Ionaâs mouth in a kiss hot enough to set the pub aflame.
Whether or not he played a role in Ionaâs future, he had a part to play right then. âI have noâ seen you in here before. Are you a tourist taking a stop in our beautiful village?â
She took a sip of the ale when he released the glass. âI was born here, though Iâve been away a few years.â
âYou must be Iona Campbell. My condolences about your father. I liked John a lot.â
âIt seems everyone did,â she murmured with a hint of confusion.
Laith wanted to walk away and cut whatever ties might begin, and yet he found himself
She tried to swallow as she took in his dark blond hair that hung just past his chin. He ran his hands through his hair, causing the thick muscles in his arms to bunch and move.
Even from the distance, Iona knew he was the kind of man that would cause her infinite trouble. The kind that left a trail of broken hearts wherever he went.
She told herself to walk away, to forget about the drink. But she wanted a closer look at him, to see the color of his eyes.
So she walked up to the bar and took a seat, her breath locking in her chest when his gunmetal gaze turned to her.
Â
CHAPTER
FOUR
Laith set Keithâs ale in front of him and caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of his eye. He turned with a smile, ready to pour them a drink, and then stopped cold. Iona Campbell had walked into his pub.
He knew her by her picture, but the photo was nothing compared to the woman in the flesh. Her lips, wide and tempting, were quirked in a half-smile, giving her an air of mystery. Her shoulder-length, wavy blond hair was windblown, as if she had been walking among the heather.
She had an air of independence about her that was ⦠enticing. She was tall and slender, her white shirt just tight enough to cling to her breasts. There was a smudge of dirt on her elbow as if she had been lying upon the ground recently.
His gaze returned to her face as she claimed a stool at the bar. She tucked her hair behind an ear, her coffee-colored eyes directed at him. Her skin held a golden glow, denoting that she was often in the sun.
Laith took a step closer, noting the sprinkle of freckles over her nose. âWelcome to The Fox and The Hound. What can I get you?â
âYour best ale,â she said, her lips curving into a deeper smile.
Laith was powerless not to respond. He returned her smile and turned to get her ale. Surely it was a trick of the light or something to cause him to react as if she were the first female heâd seen in a millennia. Once he looked at her again, he would see she was like every other female who walked into his pub.
He finished filling the glass and hesitated for a moment. Laith twisted to the newcomer, and was hit once again by her earthy appeal. If someone asked him, he would call her a child of the forests.
Her smile fell a bit as he stared. Laith shook himself and set the ale in front of her. Their eyes met again, held. He felt an uncontrollable, undeniable pull to this woman and he fought against it. Hard. It was more than just lust. This ⦠feeling ⦠was on another plane altogether.
Nay.
He didnât want to feel anything for Iona. If he did, he might be tempted to be the one to show her the magic of Dreagan and what she guarded.
Bloody hell.
âThank you,â she said and reached for the ale.
Their fingers touched briefly, but that was all it took for a current of pure, utter desire to heat his blood. She jerked her hand away, proving she felt it as well. Her eyes darted to the left before skating back to him.
Laith wasnât sure if he wanted to scream in fury for fate calling his bluff, or jump over the bar and claim Ionaâs mouth in a kiss hot enough to set the pub aflame.
Whether or not he played a role in Ionaâs future, he had a part to play right then. âI have noâ seen you in here before. Are you a tourist taking a stop in our beautiful village?â
She took a sip of the ale when he released the glass. âI was born here, though Iâve been away a few years.â
âYou must be Iona Campbell. My condolences about your father. I liked John a lot.â
âIt seems everyone did,â she murmured with a hint of confusion.
Laith wanted to walk away and cut whatever ties might begin, and yet he found himself
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