Her head snapped up.
“Breakfast in five minutes,” Scarlett called jovially through the door.
Sibyl made a trapped noise that, mid-way out of her throat, changed to a loud moan as Colin’s finger slid inside her just as his thumb hit her in a very good spot.
“Colin,” she whispered, caught between mortification and desire, his head came up and he looked at her.
“Hurry up, darling, breakfast is nearly ready.” He grinned wickedly but his eyes were dark and his voice was husky.
“Aren’t you going to –?”
“I’m going to watch.”
“But –”
“I like to watch. You’re beautiful always but you’re fucking breathtaking when you come.”
She couldn’t help it, she melted at his words and his thumb, still at the right spot, starting pressing and rolling in circles as his finger inside moved out and was joined, delightfully when it returned, with another one. At their skilful manoeuvring, the throbs turned to jolts and she bucked against his hand as the incredible heat shot through her.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he encouraged when he knew she was close, his deep voice beyond husky straight to throaty, the sound of it undid her, her neck arched back again, she pulled in a ragged breath and let go.
Still in the throes of her resplendent climax, he slid her off the desk and sat in his chair, pulling her into his lap so her legs were over the arm of the chair. Then with his hand cupping the back of her head, Colin buried her face in his neck and she clutched his shoulders as he held her trembling body and stroked the soft skin at the side of her breast with the other.
“You’re ruthless,” Sibyl whispered again when she had the strength to speak and anyone could tell she didn’t really care.
“Yes,” Colin agreed roughly, “I am.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sibyl Bares Her Soul
After breakfast, they all went to the hospital to visit Mrs. Byrne. They met her exhausted from her all night drive daughter, Angie, who shrugged off her fatigue at meeting the entirety of the legendary Godwin clan and the fabled Mr. Colin Morgan, the vision of the dead warrior, Royce.
They were all delighted to hear that Mrs. Byrne was to be released that afternoon. She had a concussion but was told she was fine to go home if she rested, took it easy and had someone to watch over her.
Sibyl thought she looked far better and much more herself than the night before. Scarlett read her chart and agreed, promising to stop in and check on her that evening and the next morning before going to Heathrow.
Marian asked to talk to Sibyl privately and allowed (because she was given no choice) Colin to sit in on their discussion.
When they were alone, Marian wasted no time and began her recitation of the “dark soul”, the name given by Esmeralda Crane to the unknown and never discovered murderer of Royce and Beatrice. Marian spoke of unconsummated true love, the power of consummation (which was the only comment she uttered that made Colin grin), protection spells and other powerful binding magic.
Marian told them that just their being together put them in danger. That the dark soul could not countenance their relationship and certainly not their happiness and would stop at nothing, even murder, to drive them apart.
She spoke of how the line of Crane Witches had known that the dark soul would follow Royce and Beatrice’s line and eventually threaten the reincarnated lovers once they found each other again. She was adamant that this was the person who nearly ran over them with the car outside the restaurant, shot Mallory, vandalised Sibyl’s cottage and attacked the three of them the night before.
She did not know who it was but Marian felt them and knew they were there.
The only way to break the curse was to consummate true love and, if Sibyl and Colin didn’t do it, then there would be two lovers down their line to whom this task would fall. It was fate, it was destiny and their story would be told again and again until the curse was lifted.
It all came down to love.
At this fervid pronouncement, Colin glanced her way but Sibyl kept her eyes carefully averted. She hadn’t shared her feelings for Colin with Colin mainly because she had no clue as to his. He certainly acted loving but being loving and being in love were two different things. With everything else going on, she couldn’t cope with being in love with a man, a wonderful (albeit hopelessly irritating) man, her soulmate, the one she’d been searching for a lifetime and having that love be one-sided.
When no immediate assertion that true love was glimmering in the very air was made by either Colin or Sibyl, Marian demanded to settle protection spells on them the minute she felt up to it, which, by her estimation, was the very next afternoon when they arrived back from Heathrow.
Sibyl dutifully promised to be at her house as Colin gazed at the two women, making no promises of his own, his expression carefully blank.
After she’d given Marian’s cheek a kiss, Sibyl left with Colin to find her family.
They walked down the hall together and she tried to act casual and steady her rapidly beating heart when Colin laced his fingers in hers.
“You don’t believe her,” Sibyl noted as she watched him out of the corner of her eye.
“It’s nonsense,” Colin stated firmly.
She stopped, tugging at his hand to halt him too as she saw her family with Angie at the end of hall.
“It makes sense,” she defended her friend.
He shook his head slowly but his lips were twitching. “You think it makes sense that some unknown entity is stalking Beatrice and Royce’s souls through eternity?”
“What do you think it is?” she demanded in exasperation.
Before he spoke, Colin turned so that his back was to her waiting family and hiding her from them. “I don’t know what to think. I’m prepared to believe, just barely and only because of the dreams, that we’ve been drawn together by something that goes beyond lucky coincidence but not that some unknown person has murderous intent simply due to a longstanding curse.”
She felt her stomach lurch hopefully at the words “lucky coincidence’ but she hid it by querying, “Okay then, who do you think it is?”
His shoulders stiffened and all humour fled. “Sibyl, you haven’t…” He stopped and dragged his hand through his hair in agitation and she saw, with some surprise, it was because he was trying to find the right words. After some thought, he continued, “I’ve not exactly led the life of a choirboy. My family is wealthy but the kind of wealth I have comes from…” He stopped again and finished shortly, “I’ve made enemies.”
“You think it’s someone you’ve wronged who’s doing this? And, if so, why would they shoot Mallory and attack my toss pillows?” she asked.
“Not someone I’ve wronged, I wouldn’t say I wronged anyone, though they might not think of it that way,” Colin answered.
Losing patience, Sibyl cried, “You’re talking semantics and I’m talking decimated toss pillows!”
His amusement came back as quickly as it faded; he put his hand to her jaw and muttered, “Sometimes, you’re too adorable for words.”
Her eyes narrowed on him as she grumbled, “You can’t distract me with flattery.”
“At least I tried,” he replied, still in fine humour and she glared as he turned around again, and, with a gentle pull on her hand, they headed back down the hall and she noted, later, that he never answered her.
Apparently, she thought with disgust, he could distract her with flattery.