Donovan's Struggle, an Erotic Romance Novella (Anam Céile Chronicles) (9 page)

I swear the horse gazes at me with a sense of
familiarity, possibly even gazed into me eyes too deeply fer an animal.  It has
to be merely me imagination running wild with me, though.  Likely, I am losing
me mind in me distressed state.

I walked towards the mare and reached out to touch her.  Naturally,
she shied away, as would be expected of a wild horse.  In the moment, I just
thought perhaps it may allow me contact with her.

However, several days later, I attempted it again.  And this
time, the animal stood there, tall and proud, though its body trembled with
apparent nervousness.  Me hands met her coat and began stroking it.  I was
thrilled that this magnificent animal was allowing me such an honour.  And then
the strangest thing: I felt a vibrational energy surging throughout her body.  It
swiftly became stronger, zapping me and I jerked me hand away, and jumped back.
 

“What
are
you?” I probed the creature in awe, a trace
of alarm in me tone.

Rather bizarrely, each night the mare settled herself upon
the grasses outside me cottage and slept, until daylight surfaced once again. 
Then it would promptly commence to following me about as I set about searching
fer me lost love again. 

One morning, Aislinn’s father turned up at me door.  “Lad, I
be tellin’ you, if you know what’s best fer you, you’d cease your fruitless
searchin’ fer that lass!  It not be safe with
Whitsuntide
forthcoming!” he
warned me obligingly.  I presumed he was sent by Missus MacAuliffe, the kind
soul she was. 

“With all due respect, Mister MacAuliffe, superstitious I am
not, and no intention have I of ceasing me search ‘til I find Aislinn . . .
your daughter,” I informed him firmly.

“Well, ‘tis your life to waste as you wish, Donovan, but
don’t you be callin’ that
sidhe
any daughter of mine!” her father
chastised.  Turning away curtly, he climbed back up into his cart and set out
on his way. 

F
er a moment I just stood there
rather stunned at his audacity.  Reflecting upon the manner in which he spoke
of his own daughter, I shook his head.  Opening the door, I went back inside to
gather me provisions fer the day’s search. 

When I exited me cottage, me eyes landed upon a sight which although
I had yearned fer it, me mind did not quite grasp.  I halted me step.
 
Stunned, I gazed out, me jaw falling open, blinking
me eyes repeatedly fer I believed surely they must be deceiving me. 

It was Aislinn— and entirely nude she was! 

Aislinn?  No, it cannot be . . .  Otherwise, why would
she be nude?  Surely it must be an illusion of sorts, the lusty fantasies of me
mind emerging to haunt me!  Although, dear God, how well it does recall the
breathtaking flawlessness of her form!

As she walked towards me, I knew I still appeared
incredulous. 

She spoke.  “Donovan, ‘tis indeed me, Aislinn,” she
enunciated, her voice slow and calm as though she fully comprehended me shock
at seeing her.

The shock melting from me eyes as they connected with hers,
they raked over her scrumptious naked form. 

Finally I spoke, me voice laden with speculative concern,
“Aislinn?”

“Aye, me love!  ‘Tis truly me!” she confirmed.

“Aislinn!” I cried out in relief.  “What has become of you? 
Why are you naked?  Where is it you have been?  Tell me you are alright!” 
Panic infiltrated me tone, as me eyes widened with bewilderment.

Coming to me senses, I reached me arms out to her beginning
to run forwards, closing the distance between us in long strides.  And then, at
last, I was upon her. 

We wrapped our arms about each other, our embrace teeming
with desperation.  Indeed she was real.  Though, why she was nude, still I did
not know.  Yet little did I care fer that in that moment as I held her within
me strong arms once more. 

Capturing her face within me hands, me eyes bored into hers fer
a long moment before me mouth claimed hers.  Fervently she reciprocated, and I
felt her love pouring into me through that one kiss.  Though the kiss was an
answer to me prayers, I could not deny the profound difference in her, though
just what it was, I did not yet know. 

When finally we withdrew our lips from each other, she was
searching me face.

“What is it, me love?” she probed with concern.

“Something . . . is different about you,” I confessed,
furrowing me brow.  “Place it I cannot, but ‘tis all at once both enticing and
alarming.”

In response, she dropped her face, uttering not a word.

Brushing me inner warning aside, I continued interrogating her. 

“Where have you
been
, Aislinn?” I entreated, becoming
heated, tightening me grip upon her arms.  I gazed down upon her, me face
etched deep with concern, all the pain her disappearance had caused me rushing
to the surface.

“’Tis a rather long story,” she replied evasively.  Then she
tried to deter me questioning with a dose of her charms.  “Perhaps I may tell
you of it hence once you invite me into your cottage to make me decent?”

Nevertheless, I conceded.  “Aye, naturally, Aislinn! 
Forgive me manners!”  Then quickly I added, wincing as I spoke the words, “You
were running away from our wedding . . . from me, were you not?”

She stared at me bewildered, as though she did not comprehend
me words.

 “That simply is not true, Donovan!”  Her eyes went wide,
intense with apparent sincerity.  “I did not!  Never would I run away from our
wedding . . . from you!  Not possible I could even fathom such a thing!  Do you
still not know the way I feel fer you?”  

Me face assuming an injured expression, I merely lowered me
eyes, her claim doing little to take away the sadness which had taken up
residence within me heart the month past. 

“I awoke somewhere far from here without the slightest idea
of how ‘twas I came to be there!”  Her voice turned pleading.  “Please do
believe me, Donovan!  It has always been you fer me!  Only you could it have
ever been . . .” she choked as the tears began to pool in her eyes. 

Perhaps she does speak the truth.  I am just being a
selfish bastard.

I pulled Aislinn into the warmth of me chest and consoled
her, caressing her back.  Nestling her face into me, she buried the fingers of
one hand into the curls of hair upon me chest. 

As me hand caressed her back, me worries drifted to the
background, replaced with me immense desire fer her.  Me hand descending to her
lovely derriere, I fondled it with urgency.  Rising her eyes to gaze into mine,
a moan escaped her lips as Aislinn lifted her hand and entwined it within me
hair.  Abruptly overcome with a passionate possession fer her, me smouldering
eyes gazed back into hers with a certain significance, as me lips claimed hers.

Me throbbing erection straining against the confines of me
trousers as though reaching fer her, I resolved to give it the release it
sought— to the fullest extent.  Seizing her lower lip gently between me teeth,
me hands adored the curves of her naked body.  “Come, let us go inside,” I
murmured into her mouth.

Rosalind Scarlett lives in Boulder,
Colorado with her loving and supportive husband, two rambunctious little boys,
her beautiful Great Dane, Isis and her proud bunny, Micah.  She holds
degrees in Psychology and Interior Design. Rosalind is zealously
proud to be of Celtic ancestry.

When not immersed in her writings,
Rosalind's passions are reading, listening to music, yoga, spiritual
exploration, organic gardening and living, riding horses, transforming ugly,
old houses to their former splendor, riding bicycles with her
family, hiking, mountains, lush evergreen forests, foggy mornings, falling
snow, feeding old bread to small critters and watching nature form her deck on
crisp evenings with a glass of wine.

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Rosalind
Scarlett