A Lover For Rachel Read online

  Samantha crossed her arms in typical Samantha-style. “This isn’t fair. This was supposed to be our time and here he’s ruined it.”

  Rachel’s mouth pressed into a smirk. “We’ve been here a week. I’m sure that something can be worked out.”

  “Are you really okay with this?” Concern crossed Sam’s face as she stared at Rachel.

  She smiled broadly, pushing her friend in Devon’s direction. “Of course I am.” She stood and watched Samantha’s receding back for a moment before quickly turning away. Now what am I going to do? Sadness marred her mood for a few moments at Sam’s departure. Though she was happy for her, she now had no one special to watch the morning sunrise with at all. Something darted in front of her eyes again, distracting her. Bright and shiny. Her shoulders slumped and she tried to be patient, deciding to not focus on the melancholy that made her miserable for the moment. She focused directly in front of her, squeaked in surprise, and jumped back as a bit of fluff cruised in front of her eyes. There is just no way!

  Excusing herself as she bumped people, she edged away from the crowd. It proved hard with a whole field full of people. She tried to analyze what she’d seen and couldn’t believe it. She had seen a fairy, or maybe it was a pixie. She wished Sam was here so she could talk to her friend about it. She’d help Rachel figure out what to do or if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Pondering the unlikely sight, the Druid’s earlier comment tugged at her thoughts. She covered her mouth with a hand, eyes wide and shining as she thought maybe she was special. Maybe this was the sign she waited for. Her shoulders straightened, and her stance firmed.

  The odd creature zipped in front of her face again, buzzing louder than before as she jerked her head away. Her gaze was following the bouncing light when she saw it stop and beckon her to follow. She looked around and spied Sam and Devon several meters away in what seemed to be a serious conversation, their heads tilted together. Sam wouldn’t miss her for a while. What harm is there in following what seems to be a fairy? Aren’t they generally considered good?

  Cautiously picking her way through the rest of the crowd, she followed the light that led her around a stone. No one was there. Absolutely no one. Rachel looked in the area and could see people close, but they seemed fuzzy. Her disorientation diminished through her limbs as she gazed down and spied what seemed to be a small fairy ring. She frowned to herself. Most of Stonehenge is surrounded by a fairy ring, so what is this one?

  She leaned down and tried to get a closer look as dizziness overwhelmed her, realizing the ground came at her much too fast. The stones jutting up from underground seemed to reach out and grab her as she whacked her head. Putting a tentative hand up, she touched the bump. Warm, sticky blood met her fingertips. It seemed surreal as she accepted the fact that her fall caused the injury. Her attempt at standing brought on another wave of nausea, and she lost her balance and tipped forward.

  Right through the ground.

  * * * *

  Rachel woke up and groaned. Where am I? She remembered hitting her head and reached up to touch the tender spot. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what happened after, but came up blank.

  “I see my guest has woken up,” a deep, English-accented voice said from behind her.

  Startled, she realized she lay on what appeared to be a couch. She struggled to stand, surprised when a gentle hand pushed her back down. Not knowing what else to do, she squeezed her eyes shut.

  “You have acquired a rather nasty bump on the head.” Soft fingers probed her tender forehead. “You can open your eyes. I assure you I am not an ogre.”

  She took a deep breath and slowly gazed up, amazed to see an incredible-looking man. True, he wasn’t the most handsome man she had ever seen, but he would surely turn her head if she passed him on the street. Eyes as blue as the azure sky and hair as dark as night framed a very masculine face, with high cheekbones, wide lips, and a slightly broad nose met her awkward gaze.

  “See, I told you.” His crooked smile hinted at a hidden wild side.

  She glanced around, her skin tingling, a heaviness settling in her stomach as she found herself in what looked like a cave. “Wh-where are we?”

  “Below the henge. Somehow you have managed to fall into my…studio, for lack of a better word.”

  Mouth dry, she swallowed hard. “Your studio?”

  Sighing, he gazed at her for a moment, his eyes full of a mixture of interest and compassion. “My studio is what I choose to call it. It actually has been more like my prison for the last few hundred years or so.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Prison?” Just what have I gotten myself into?

  “Prison.” His steady gaze didn’t move from her face. He reached up and applied a salve to her head with gentle movements. “I suppose now you want all the sordid details.”

  She nodded her head when his fingers stopped her movement as he continued to apply the cool balm. “I remember following a fairy or a pixie.”

  “I am afraid she is a fairy.” Looking up, they both saw her hovering in the corner of the room, glowing a soft lilac. “And a damn nuisance she is sometimes. But if it were not for her, I would not have survived all these years.”

  Rachel couldn’t believe it at all. Her analytical mind told her this was an impossibility, an illogical happening. “What do you mean by all these years? Who are you? What are you?”

  He held up his hand to silence her questions as he put the medicine back in an ancient-looking chest. “I will tell you everything in due time. I need to know a few things about you first.”

  “Why?” Their gazes locked and a moment of sizzling awareness passed between them before she pulled her eyes away.

  She could tell he was impatient with her as he seemed to draw in an unhurried, calming breath. “Because you would not be here at all unless you were a really special woman. Are you a really special woman?”

  Her mind again was drawn back to what the Druid said. “According to a Druid, I guess I am.”

  “The Druids are in charge of the world above?” A horrified expression crossed his face as his brows drew together in a scowl.

  Rachel wanted to snort with laughter. “Not really.”

  The man frowned. “Just who is in charge? Do not tell me that witch Morgaine has finally made it to ruler? That is something I cannot accept.”

  Her eyes opened wide as this was an unexpected bit of information. “Morgaine…as in Morgan le Fay…antagonist to the wizard Merlin and King Arthur?”

  “You know of them?” He stared down at her in surprise.

  “Everyone knows of the legend.” A ping of caution erupted in her chest as she eyed him warily.

  “Legend? They think it is a legend?” He blew out a breath and backed away from her.

  Rachel blinked, wondering just what that knock on the head did to her. Just how long has this guy been down here? “Who did you say you were?”

  He eyed her guardedly. “I did not say at all. I was asking the questions. I need answers first.” He studied her face before continuing. “When were you born, child, and what is your name?”

  She laughed wryly. “My name is Rachel Hamilton and I’m hardly a child. I was born on the twenty-first of June…why?”

  “The twenty-first of June? Summer solstice?”

  “Yes, summer solstice. That’s why I was here. I was to witness the miracle of sunrise at Stonehenge. Now it seems I won’t.” Her mouth turned upward in wistful longing for what could not be.

  “Umm. That would explain why you could see my fairy.” He examined her with narrowed eyes. His gaze eventually made her squirm.

  “Look…you’re making me uncomfortable. What else do you need to know? I have questions of my own.” She watched some unidentified emotion flash across his face.

  “My name is Dewin, son of Kingston. Although I guess you would say it today as Dewin Kingston.” He sat as if waiting for some response.

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” she questioned.
<
br />   “You have never heard of me?” He looked shocked.

  “No…who are you?” Now she was really confused. First, something really odd and bizarre had happened, which enabled her to fall through the very ground at her feet. Then, the most attractive man she met in a long time thinks she should know him. How much more wacky can it get? She shook her head to clear the cobwebs.

  “That damn old buzzard. He swore people would not remember me and I guess he was right.” He rubbed his chin and frowned. “I know so little of the outside world as it has been many years since I have seen any part of it. Nora comes back with such fantastic tales. What is it like?”

  “Whoa…wait a minute…what old buzzard?”

  “Merlin, of course.” He kept his gaze on her, waiting as his expression remained carefully neutral. “You did say you knew of him.”

  “Of course,” she said sarcastically. “First, I fall down the rabbit hole and then I meet a good-looking guy.” She pushed her way past him and stood. Sure her head hurt, but she could put a proper perspective on things if she paced. “Then this guy tells me he knows Merlin.” She turned to him, realizing she must look like a crazy woman. “Do you know just how outrageous all of this sounds?”

  Dewin stared at her, confusion displayed on his handsome face. “Umm…no.”

  She flopped down on the couch next to him. “Please tell me the whole story of how you came to be here, how I ended up here, and maybe we can find a way to get us both out.”

  He smiled and lit up the whole room. “That is the spirit. I most definitely want to get out of here.”

  “You do realize that the world isn’t what you remember it to be, don’t you? That is, if what you are saying is true.” She placed her hand on his forearm and appreciated the strength it held. Just touching him brought an awareness of her body that she’d missed. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in his warm, woodsy scent. Her baser needs were going to take over in this small but comfortable room. Before she could allow herself to feel anything, she needed to get her mind around the facts that currently brought and held her here.

  “I have told you my name is Dewin. It means wizard.” His gaze held an honesty she couldn’t deny.

  “You’re a wizard?” she questioned lightly. If there is a fairy, there can certainly be a wizard.

  He gazed into her eyes then and ran a gentle finger along her jaw. “You are beautiful.”

  Rachel leaned into his hand, her body’s wants and needs taking over. “No, I’m not, but it’s nice to hear you say it. Still…I have to hear your story first. Please continue.”

  He withdrew his hand. “Yes, I am a wizard. I was trained by Merlin himself.”

  “So he did exist?” Her hand wandered to his thigh, rubbing up and down, as she felt her control slipping.

  “Umm…that feels good…Did Nora sprinkle any dust on you while you were on the outside?” His apologetic tone did little to dampen her desire.

  “I don’t think so but I really wasn’t paying attention. She buzzed me a lot.”

  Dewin frowned and looked over her shoulder toward the fairy now sitting on a high shelf. “Nora, did you sprinkle Rachel?”

  She turned, watching the small light bob up and down in the farthest corner of the chamber. “I guess she did then. So what does being sprinkled with fairy dust do?”

  “This.”

  His mouth swooped down to kiss her deeply. His kiss was extraordinary as he tugged on her lower lip with gentle nibbles. She leaned into him and snaked her tongue into his mouth, trying to elicit a response from him. She was rewarded with his tongue coming together with hers to war for supremacy. Deliberately, she pulled herself from the ever-enticing ritual.

  Rachel gulped in a few deep breaths, her hand holding him at bay. “Okay…we’ve established that fairy dust heightens one’s sexual response. Is that all it does?”

  He pulled up from kissing her neck, his large hand caressed her face. “No, the dust has a lot of magical properties. We will have to complete what we start. I hope you do not mind…it has been a long time for me. The fairy dust makes our lust palpable, like a living thing until the need is fulfilled we can do little else. Not doing so will only lead to torment everlasting.”

  While she looked at him, his eyes darkened. Leaning in, she gave him a quick peck on the mouth without lingering. It was hard for her to stop as she wanted to learn every aspect of this man’s body. Yet, she needed to know just why she was here. “I don’t mind at all, but I need to know more first.” She ran her hands up his arms and was rewarded with a shiver.

  He closed his eyes as if to still his wants, his desires. “You will have to stop doing that if you want me to tell you anything.”

  She looked around the room to see if there were any place else to sit and didn’t find another. “It’s going to be hard since we’re both on the couch.”

  He lifted his hands from her. “I will try to restrain myself. Promise.”

  The corners of her mouth lifted and she chuckled. “I think we better be quick before our resolve fades.”

  “Agreed.” He crossed his arms over his massive chest.

  “So, we’ve established that you were trained by Merlin. Then why are you here?” It took everything in her not to reach out to touch his body.

  Dewin inched closer. “I believe the man wanted to punish me.”

  “Punish you? Why?” Rachel leaned back to observe the wizard sitting next to her.

  “I was very good at what I did. So good that I had the ire of Morgaine and her son, Modred, thrust upon me.” His shoulders dipped in apparent defeat, as if remembering some wrong he’d done.

  “Wasn’t Modred Arthur’s son as well?”

  He looked quite shocked as if she had touched upon a previously unknown secret. “I suppose he was. Only Merlin ever knew for sure. Arthur had three sisters and Modred was Morgawse’s son for sure.” He gave her a wry smile. “Morgawse is the same person as Morgaine. Now she’s sometimes called Morgan le Fay as well, according to you and Nora.” He paused as if to sift through fact and myth. “I never could get Merlin to tell me the whole truth of it. Arthur considered him to be more of a nephew than a son, especially when Morgaine brought the boy up to hate him.”

  Rachel remembered once reading something about what he said but would have to research it further should she ever get back home. “Okay. So what happened?”

  “Merlin and I fought on the eve before the great battle. I do not suppose you know the outcome?” His hopeful gaze filled her with remorse as she shook her head sadly.

  “Everything is shrouded in mists and legends. It’s said that Arthur and Modred killed each other on the great battlefield. No one really knows because no one has ever found anything that tells what actually happened. It’s also said that Arthur is buried in the mists of Avalon, whatever that means. Most of our history comes from a time many years after the events actually took place. So how did you end up here?”

  “Merlin brought me to the great monoliths and cast a spell upon it. He told me it was for my own good since I meddled too much. I only tried to save Arthur, as was my lot in life.” He hung his head, hands clasped before him. “I attempted to fight back, but I was no match for my master.”

  “I’m sorry.” Rachel laid a gentle hand upon his arm. “Is there anything that can break the spell?” She tried to comfort him the best she could since she still didn’t understand the circumstance of how he came to be under Stonehenge.

  Dewin stopped and gripped both of her hands. “I think you are the one to break the spell.”

  Shocked, she yanked her fingers away. “What do you mean, I can break the spell?”

  He reached out and pulled her hands back into his, his rough fingers rubbing gentle circles on hers. “Merlin’s spell was special...different.”

  She allowed him to massage her, to bring back the tightness in her breasts and the wetness to her crotch. Rachel wanted this man like she’d never desired another. And that was something h
er logical lawyer mind found hard to accept. She felt as if this was a dream she would be waking from any moment. “How different?” she questioned quietly.

  “I believe it involved a love spell of sorts.” His gaze made her body tingle in a foreign and wicked way.

  “Love spell?” she echoed, not wanting to believe her ears or his smoldering glance.

  “Yes. One that involved a very special woman who was born on a summer solstice, which was accompanied by a full moon. Was the moon full when you were born?”

  The earnestness of his question caught her off guard.

  She swallowed hard. Rachel had listened many, many times as her mother recounted the fullness of the moon as it cast shadows along the hills of her parents’ farm. Her mother always told her that night had been magical in so many ways. Now here she was in a place defined by magic. “Yes, it was.”

  “Ah…then the die is cast. You are my fate.” A dark shadow stubbled his sculpted jaw as his mane of black hair curled from his forehead to just below his ears. He really was a dream come true.

  “What does that mean?” Rachel’s husky voice whispered of her needs, waiting to be fulfilled.

  “Only you can free us.” Dewin moved even closer.

  “Me? How can I do that when I don’t really know where here is?” Her chest tightened and all her senses rocketed beyond any she’d ever known.

  “Only you have the power.” His gaze slid casually down her body before rising to meet hers.

  “I don’t understand.” She closed her eyes against the heat she saw sizzling in his gaze. What am I missing here?

  “I know and I cannot tell you, even though I want to.” His voice made her want to lean in closer as the sensual sound slid over her like a gentle caress.

  “Why can’t you?”

  “It is part of the spell. All I can tell you is that you are the key.”

  It distressed her heart that she could free them and yet she didn’t know the first thing about getting it done.

  “Please do not worry about it. Our freedom will find a way through our desire.” He began to caress her arms. “I would rather get back to what we were doing.”