Enchanted Hearts Read online

I couldn’t take my eyes from him. For all the fantasies I’d indulged in, nothing could’ve prepared me for this. My imagination hadn’t done him justice in the slightest, and my mind worked hard to memorize everything I saw.

  He had thick, dark hair the color of midnight which fell just above his shoulders. It looked like he had been raking it back with his hand and it made my fingers itch to feel its texture.

  His features were strong and angular with a square jawline. High cheekbones gave him the look of an aristocrat. His skin held the sheen often famed as belonging solely to the Fae. He was beautiful, and I blushed at the female term. There was no other word to describe him because handsome didn’t do him justice.

  I beheld his face. His lips were curled slightly in a smile, and I traced my own distractedly. They looked perfect, his bottom lip slightly fuller than the top, and I wondered what it would be like to feel them against my ear whispering sweet nothings.

  Finally, I met his contemplative stare, and the sensation of drowning almost consumed me. In the shade of the most pure blue, his eyes spoke so much. There was an Otherworldliness in them, but what captured me was the look of fascination and longing. I wasn’t prepared to see such strength and passion, and I realized I’d stopped breathing. Forcing myself to break his hold over me, I glanced down at the ground and noticed the water lapping at my feet.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  His voice. It was like nothing I’d ever heard before, as though an angel had floated down from the sky and began singing the holiest of melodies. It held richness in its tone, and I could feel the seductive influence already beginning to tug at my heart strings.

  It was in that moment I realized the truthfullness of the Fae stories and the power they had to enchant humans. Everything about this male lured me in and encouraged wild abandonment. I wanted to fall to the floor and worship him—simply from hearing him speak.

  Heaven help me.

  “You didn’t. I . . .” For the first time in my life I was speechless, something my Papa thought could never happen. He stepped completely out of the tree line and—as the sun fully illuminated him—I could feel myself faltering. He was beyond my wildest dreams, and all I could do was stare silently as he approached.

  Likewise, he examined me with deliberate contemplation. One second he was looking into my eyes, then my lips, then travelling down my neckline before he paused. I knew I needed to retrieve my gown, but my feet were rooted. I couldn’t move even if the hounds of Hell were relentlessly pursuing me.

  The stranger stopped just out of arm’s reach. He licked his lips softly, and I found myself leaning forward slightly as if to taste them also. The compulsion was the strangest feeling, but I didn’t fight it. I was too intrigued.

  Neither of us said anything as tension filled the air. My body sensed a pull toward him as if the only place it belonged was beside him—against him. I shook my head and tried to clear my thoughts. The action helped momentarily, but one more look into his eyes and the connection snapped back into place.

  “My name is Aithne,” I whispered.

  “Mine is Hadrian.” He raised his hand and tentatively stroked the side of my cheek. I gasped as his touch left a trail of pleasure in its wake. “I have wanted to do that for a very long time.”

  I couldn’t stop the shiver or the way my body leaned into his caress. Somewhere in the back of my mind something screamed of propriety and that I shouldn’t allow such intimacy from a stranger. I closed my eyes, ignoring the voice, and prayed he would continue.

  Placing one of his fingers under my chin, Hadrian lifted my face toward him. His gaze was magnetic, and I was at his complete mercy. My own hands were idle and the need to explore became a constant temptation. But he held me captive and all I could do was wait for his lead.

  His head inched closer.

  “I wonder what you taste like, sweet Aithne. That question has tortured me.”

  A butterfly commotion rose in my stomach as the flittering turned my insides into a riot of nerves. He was going to give me my first-ever kiss. My hands rested on my stomach fortifying my resolve as his hands gripped the side of my arms. His thumbs moved in soft circles and caused a faintness to come over me.

  Hadrian was so close, his breath fanning lightly over my skin. I watched his descending mouth—his lips. I was a storm of emotions—sensations—as the anticipation grew.

  As he pulled me closer I held onto his shirt front and offered a silent plea that my knees wouldn’t fail me. His lips were a mere fraction from mine. All I needed to do was creep up on my tiptoes, and the moment would be complete.

  We lingered there, the sound of our breath mingling as our eyes locked. He shifted slightly, and traced a delicate pattern across my cheekbone. “I shouldn’t.” His other arm encircled my waist. “But how can I not?”

  My patience snapped as I clenched my fists into the supple material. Proper or not, I wanted to claim what was before me. I needed what was being offered. I prepared to inch upward, determined.

  “Aithne?” A voice called, disturbing the magic of the moment.

  “No . . . ,” I whispered. A feeling of dismay washed over me as I watched Hadrian step back to see who was approaching. His own features looked uncertain, and I knew in that second he was preparing to disappear. “Please don’t go.”

  The desperation in my voice was clear. Whatever was between us, I wasn’t ready for it to be over, and I silenced the frustration rising. I reached out to pull him closer, but he was already retreating. I stumbled forward, imploringly.

  “I must. I shouldn’t have revealed myself to begin with.” I caught a glimpse of regret in his eyes—an unsatisfied longing. “There are rules.” Hadrian reached the tree line, his back already submerged in shadow.

  The sound of my name being called grew louder and louder until I knew the intruder would soon discover my hiding place. It was happening so fast, and I struggled to find the right words. He appeared reluctant to leave as well, and for a brief instant, I believed he would rejoin me.

  “Say you’ll return. Promise me.” A warning flashed inside me. I knew asking anything of the Fae was fraught with danger, but my heart stifled it. I ignored what might be the effects of sorcery and enchantment. I turned away from reason. “Please tell me I’ll see you again.”

  Hadrian’s eyes darted over my shoulder, and I knew time was running out. “On the morrow, fair Aithne, I shall find you.” And with that, he was gone.

  I stared into the darkened forest trying to find any trace of him. I studied each trunk, every fallen and upended branch—anything that would give me a clue where he went. There was no shimmering afterglow from a portal. No twinkling of Otherworld magic. He had simply been there one instant and vanished the next.

  The afternoon suddenly became colder, as the warmth and liveliness I’d previously experienced became a fading memory. A cool breeze nipped at my damp skin and hair, and I finally remembered all I was wearing was a light shift. Knowing I would soon be discovered, I rushed to my discarded gown and began dressing. My fingers worked frantically with the fastenings and all the while, a smile never left my face.

  He would return. I had hope.

  Once decent, I turned in time to see the petite frame of my dear friend, Dierdre, break through the brush. Even though she’d disturbed my time with Hadrian, the sight of my freckled faced friend filled me with gratitude. We were as close as sisters—practically inseparable and I rushed toward her.

  “There you are. I’ve searched everywhere for you. Have you lost track of time?” Dierdre’s deep green eyes flashed with concern.

  My brow wrinkled in confusion. “We were to meet?” My encounter with Hadrian had wiped all recollection of previous arrangements, and the memory of our almost kiss made it equally difficult to concentrate.

  “Yes, silly!” She tweaked my nose. It was an old habit from our childhood, and one she refused to stop. “We were to go into the village and look for ribbons. The Midsummer Night’
s festival draws close, and we want to get the very best from Old Bertha’s selection before that hateful Cora does. We’ve talked of little else!” Dierdre paused. She tilted her head to the side and studied me, her mess of red curls bouncing from the movement. “What has happened, Aithne? It’s not like you to look so . . . addled.”

  Excitement bubbled within me. I was anxious to speak of my meeting Hadrian and the feelings it had stirred within me. We had spent many afternoons lying in the grass, staring at the blue sky, and fantasizing about the elusive Fae. If anyone would understand the way my young girlish heart was captured, it would be Deirdre. But something bid me to hold my tongue.

  “I think I’ve spent too much time in the sun. Come, let’s go and maybe we can stop by the tavern and convince Fiona to spare us some honey mead.”

  I took her arm and fought the urge to take one last, lingering stare. Deirdre’s infectious chatter cleared my mind, and I soon found myself laughing and joining in with the conversation. As we left the privacy of the river bank, I didn’t pause to see whether it was a figment of my imagination or the fading sun that teased me with the shadow of a man.

  Until tomorrow, Hadrian, I thought. On the morrow I shall claim my kiss.