Spirited Away

By Ranae Rose

Nothing can kill Caitlyn's love for Aaron O'Brien - not being whisked away to the spirit world by the legendary bean sidhe of her homeland - not even death.

When Irish settlers gather from miles around to celebrate Beltane at the O'Brien family's North Carolina estate, Caitlin McCarthy finds herself unexpectedly in the arms of the family's striking heir, Aaron O'Brien.

But will they ever share more than a single kiss?

When a flood traps Caitlin on O'Brien property and leaves her at Aaron's mercy, it seems so. Their sensual whirlwind courtship quickly escalates, but just as Aaron approaches Caitlin's father to request her hand in marriage, Caitlin finds herself whisked away into the spirit realm.

Can she reunite with Aaron again, or does being Bean Sidhe mean leading a loveless existence?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
• Release date: Mar 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9780857159137

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A Total-E-Bound Publication

www.total-e-bound.com

Spirited Away

ISBN # 978-0-85715-913-7

©Copyright Ranae Rose 2012

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright March 2012

Edited by Rebecca Hill

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-sizzling and a sexometer of 1.

This story contains 85 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 11 pages.

SPIRITED AWAY

Ranae Rose

Nothing can kill Caitlyn’s love for Aaron O’Brien—not being whisked away to the spirit world by the legendary bean sidhe of her homeland—not even death.

When Irish settlers gather from miles around to celebrate Beltane at the O’Brien family’s North Carolina estate, Caitlin McCarthy finds herself unexpectedly in the arms of the family’s striking heir, Aaron O’Brien.

But will they ever share more than a single kiss?

When a flood traps Caitlin on O’Brien property and leaves her at Aaron’s mercy, it seems so. Their sensual whirlwind courtship quickly escalates, but just as Aaron approaches Caitlin’s father to request her hand in marriage, Caitlin finds herself whisked away into the spirit realm.

Can she reunite with Aaron again, or does being Bean Sidhe mean leading a loveless existence?

Chapter One

North Carolina, 1823

Caitlin bent to pluck a small purple blossom from the grass, her dark hair falling around her fair face like a curtain before she rose again to hold her find against the sky, examining it. It was small—no bigger than one of her fingernails—but the petals were a creamy shade of amethyst that seemed to glow when the sunlight shone through them from behind, rimming the flower with a halo of violet light. She tossed it into her basket. Looking down at the rest of its contents, she frowned. She’d only managed to gather a sparse handful of wildflowers, and most of them were just as diminutive as the little lilac beauty she’d just picked. This was not owing to some unfortunate circumstance of weather—it had rained often that summer—or some natural lack of colourful foliage in the North Carolina countryside. It was because of the the fact that, for the past two months, she’d been roaming this particular area on the outskirts of the O’Brien property like a madwoman, gathering wildflowers as an excuse for her trespassing.

She stooped down again, this time to pick a dainty buttercup from beside the hoof-worn dirt trail she was so careful not to let out of her sight. She added the flower to her collection, laying it to rest among its equally petite companions, hoping that today would be the day she’d finally need to display them—a colourful if rather pathetic excuse. She would pretend to have been so caught up in flower-gathering that she’d scarcely noticed straying off her own family’s property and onto O’Brien land, of course. She’d smile, laugh and pretend to be surprised to have wandered so far and to have run into—of all people—Aaron O’Brien, Squire O’Brien’s oldest son. And then, if she was lucky, maybe he’d kiss her again.

She blushed furiously at the thought, adding another buttercup to her collection. The first of May was two months past, but she could still feel the warm weight of Aaron’s lips against hers when she thought about it. The O’Brien estate was an empire built on iron, but all of their dozen furnaces and even the forge had been abandoned for that wonderful summer holiday, Beltane. Each and every person had forgotten about work for one glorious day, from Squire O’Brien himself to the forgemen. The O’Briens had hosted a wonderful Beltane celebration on the grounds of their manse, and their Irish neighbours had gathered from miles around to throw a rather raucous harbinger of summer. Caitlin’s family had crossed the Atlantic from the Emerald Isle seven years ago to farm some North Carolina land acquired by an uncle who had come before them and had attended. Their presence at the celebration had not been in vain.

Caitlin sweated slightly in the humid southern July heat, but she wouldn’t have forgotten it even if it had snowed every day since. How could she possibly forget the way Aaron had seized her around her waist as she circled the maypole and stolen an airborne kiss?

Not in a thousand years.

The real question, she had long since decided, was whether the kiss had been a spontaneous outburst of giddy celebration—perhaps aided by a pint too many of ale—or a manifestation of genuine attraction. She hoped, quite badly, that it had been the latter, but there was only way to find out…and that was to meet Aaron face to face again.

She’d hardly seen him at all since Beltane, except for a couple of times in brief passing that had offered little more than a chance for a greeting shouted from the seat of a wagon. She was determined to encounter him again—preferably alone—and so had begun to resolutely strip the edge of the O’Brien property of its wildflowers, hoping to meet him riding on the nearby path she knew he favoured. So far she’d been unsuccessful, but she refused to give up hope—her father was fond of telling her that ‘you make your own luck’, and she’d taken the saying to heart.

She glanced up at the path as she continued to scour the wild summer grasses, her heart sinking for what seemed the thousandth time when the horizon proved to be devoid of human or animal presence. The sky had grown dark.

Another storm.

Sighing, she straightened, shifted her basket into the crook of her elbow, and prepared to begin the journey home.

Maybe I can beat the rain this time.

With that incentive, she gathered up her skirts and stepped quickly through the grass, casting one last wistful look at the path that wound across acres of empty fields and, eventually, into a narrow strip of forest. She nearly dropped her basket when a horse and rider appeared on the road, coming towards her at a brisk pace, perhaps trying to race the storm home.

Frozen in expectation, her heart beating wildly, she stood several paces from the road, watching the figure on horseback transition from a discernibly masculine figure blurred by distance to a distinctly tall, well-muscled young man with a full head of red-gold waves that fell almost to his shoulders, shining even beneath the grey sky.

Aaron!

She’d been hoping for two months to meet him here, but now that he was actually approaching, her mouth was dry and her heart raced. She clutched her basket handle so that her fingers wouldn’t visibly tremble and turned to face him with the best smile she could manage as he reined his sorrel gelding to a halt.

Good morning! he called, tipping his head in her direction. His hair gleamed a deep red as it caught what sombre light managed to filter through the storm clouds. Butterflies erupted into nervous flight somewhere in the pit of her stomach as his blue eyes met her dark ones.

Caitlin McCarthy, isn’t it?

The butterflies went mad at the sound of her name rolling off his full lips, which had curved into an amicable smile.

Yes, she managed to reply breathily, pressing one hand to her belly in an attempt to still the winged creatures that rioted there.

He remembers my name.

How pleasant to meet you, Aaron. I was just…gathering wild flowers for a bouquet.

And hoping to God you’d ride by.

She extended her basket as if to prove her claim, baring its contents beneath his gaze.

Well, he said, grinning as he bent slightly in the saddle to peer into her basket, looks like you have the makings of a fine bouquet for the wee folk.

Caitlin blushed as she stared down at her collection, remembering again how pathetically small the flowers were. A fairy bouquet indeed…maybe the wee folk could make a fine centrepiece of it, but she’d have to put the blossoms in a thimble if she intended to display them in her own home. Why hadn’t she thought of a better explanation for her presence than her tiny specimens?

The first raindrops struck her cheek as she silently lamented her foolishness.

Another storm, Aaron said as a raindrop landed below his left eye and streamed down his cheek, giving the illusion of a tear. I swear it’s been raining every day for the past two weeks. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance.

You don’t have to tell me.

She’d returned home drenched and dripping with a basket of drowned flowers several times over the past couple of weeks.

Aye, it has, but it does a wonderful job of keeping the crops green.

Aaron nodded. That it does, but you’ll catch your death if you traipse home in the rain. Let me take you. He extended a hand to her from the saddle. It’ll be no trouble, he said as she hesitated.

She clutched her basket handle so tightly that her knuckles went white as she willed her knees, which had suddenly gone weak, to remain steady. This was going as wonderfully in her dreams, and however surreal it seemed, she would not spoil it by pinching herself! She extended a slightly trembling hand and placed it in his, allowing his warm grip to envelop hers.