“I brought some food up from the kitchen. Tea too.” He turned his back on her and walked out of the room. Rose gawked not only at the breadth of his shoulders but at the way he had to duck under the door frame.
Holy shit.
Think, Rose, think.
Taking a slow, calming breath, she gave her body a chance to catch up with her mind. As insane as it was, she still felt that weird pull toward the stranger. What she didn’t feel was fear toward him. Her fear stemmed from the unknown. From the bizarre new things happening to her body.
Exhaling, Rose strode after the stranger and found him shrugging out of his jacket. She watched as he draped it over an armchair. His waistcoat and shirt were a perfect fit, as were the tailored trousers that cupped an ass that was clearly rock hard with muscle.
Attraction zinged through her as she watched him turn to sit.
Yeah, really not the time, she chastised herself.
“Good, the gold is gone.” His tone was as warm and fuzzy as a prison warden’s.
Rose touched the corner of her eye. “What does it mean?”
“Sit.” He gestured to the sofa. A tray sat on the coffee table before it.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then don’t eat.”
His response irritated her, but Rose lowered herself onto the sofa anyway. “Are you Irish?” It was hard to tell. His accent was a little muddled, but there was a definite lilt to his words that reminded her of her parents’ accents.
“I am. My name is Fionn Mór. And you’re Rose Kelly.”
“How do you know that?” She leaned toward him. “I saw you the other night at the club. And then … was I …?” She raised a hand to her neck.
“Attacked an hour ago by a vampire.”
“How is this real?” Rose whispered to herself.
Perhaps she was still dreaming.
He studied her intently. “How much do you know about supernaturals?”
“Supernaturals?”
“Vampires, werewolves, and the like.”
Rose gaped at him. “Werewolves are real too?”
She thought she detected a slight curl at the corner of his lips. An almost smile. But then he glared at her so Rose must have imagined it. “You know nothing of the supernatural underworld?”
She swallowed hard. “If I hadn’t just been attacked by a vampire and watched my eyes change to liquid gold … I’d think you were a crazy man for even suggesting it a reality.”
“But you know I’m not crazy, don’t you, Rose? The sooner you come to terms with the fact that the supernatural world exists, the sooner you can come to terms with who you are.”
His matter-of-fact tone pissed her off. “That simple, huh?”
“I’m not here to baby you through this. I’m here to help you discover who you are and to control the incredible power that runs through your body.”
“Why?”
Fionn studied the carpet. His tone was almost melancholy when he replied, “You and I are the same. There’s so few of us left.” There was something fierce in those striking eyes that made her breath catch. “Less than a handful. It’s a miracle I found you.”
Hearing the sincerity in his words, and perhaps even a hint of longing, Rose whispered, “What am I?”
“You,” he said, leaning forward, “are one of the fae.”
Rose stared incredulously at him. “The what now?”
His expression darkened with obvious impatience. “This will go easier if you suspend your disbelief. Someone put a powerful spell on you to block your abilities. The vampire attack, knocking you to the ground, it broke the spell.”
The light that flew out of her body …
“But I think you’ve always been strong, Rose, haven’t you? Stronger than normal.”
Yeah, she had always been. Especially for her size. Friends had commented on it. Her coach had too. But it had just been something everyone accepted about Rose Kelly.
She was weirdly strong.
“Spell?” The words from the girl at the club … “You have a block on you. A spell. Someone has blocked your access to your powers.” The young woman and her brother hadn’t been messing with her. “That’s what the girl said last night.”
Fionn tensed, alert. “What girl?”
“I don’t know. She was around my age. She and her brother ambushed me at the club. She said someone had put a spell on me that blocked my powers.”
Even though his tone was bland, Rose felt waves of energy from him. He was agitated. “Did she say anything else?”
“Stuff that made little sense. Oh, and they were Irish. Her name was Niamh and his was Ronan …” Rose frowned trying to remember the full name the