CHAPTER THREE
Conor got the shock of his life the next morning.
It was around six-thirty a.m., a full hour and a half before his eight o’clock class on Early Irish Gaelic. He had some papers to grade and some other work to attend to, so he had come in early. The building his office was housed in was the West Theater, an old building on the campus of Trinity College that was well over one hundred years old. It was built of brick and solid masonry, able to withstand the test of time, and always smelled like moldy old stone.
Conor had his arms full of his briefcase, laptop and lunch bag as he entered his office suite. The door was unlocked and his secretary’s desk empty; she didn’t arrive for another hour. Even so, there was someone sitting in her office.
Destry stood up from the chair she had been patiently planted in as Conor entered the office. His gaze fell on her and he came to a halt, startled. The lunch bag fell to the ground and Destry bent down to retrieve it.
“Hi,” she smiled weakly at him, propping the lunch bag back on top of his briefcase.
He stared at her a moment as if hardly believing what he was seeing. “Hi yourself,” he replied, a baffled but delighted expression coming to his handsome features. “Uh… what are you doing here?”
Destry’s weak smile became genuine. “That’s a very good question,” she said, suddenly putting her hands up. “Don’t worry; I’m not stalking you.”
His gaze lingered on her as he moved for his office door. “I’m disappointed,” he teased. “Are you sure?”
She giggled. “Pretty sure.”
“Can I talk you into it?”
Her laughter grew. “Probably not.”
He opened his door. “Truly unfortunate,” he said, bobbing is head in the direction of his now-open office. “Care to come in so we can discuss it further?”
Smirking, Destry preceded him into his office, standing near his cluttered desk as he dumped the contents in his arms onto the desktop. She watched him unload, noting he looked distinctly different than he had yesterday; the baseball cap had concealed flaming red hair which he had spiked this morning so that it was standing straight up in the air. It was the tallest flat-top she had ever seen, increasing his already substantial height. Given his red goatee and mustache, he looked like a pirate. But his skin was beautiful and milky, and his eyes a clear blue. He was a unique-looking man but absolutely and powerfully handsome.
As he pulled off his jacket, he was wearing a worn collared shirt beneath and when the jacket came off completely, Destry’s eyebrows lifted at the size of the man’s arms and chest; she had noticed yesterday that he was a big boy but she had no idea just how big. The most obvious physical attribute was that he was exceptionally tall; he had to be at least six and a half feet in height. But he was also enormous in breadth, powerfully built like a weight lifter with a massive upper body and a chiseled torso. He also had very big legs – she could see them through the jeans he wore. The shirt he wore was rather form fitting in displaying his powerful physique. In fact, it made her a little hot to gaze at those beautifully massive biceps so she tried not to stare as she spoke.
“I’m really sorry to intrude on you so early,” she said as he hung up his coat. “I was wondering if you could give me a couple of minutes of your time. I won’t take long, I promise.”
He turned around from the coat rack and faced her. “I can give you all the time you need until my eight o’clock class,” he said. “How’d you find me, by the way?”
She shrugged. “You said you worked at Trinity College. I looked you up in the directory and followed the map.”
He nodded faintly, eyeing the woman who only seemed to grow more beautiful with each passing second. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, revealing the beautiful shape of her face, and she was dressed in a sweater and jeans that accentuated a figure he had only seen on the pages of men’s magazines. The sweater she was wearing gave a tantalizing peek of spectacular cleavage but he tried not to let his eyes wander down there. He could have stared at that for the rest of his life. But as he looked at her face, he noticed that she looked exhausted. Her bright blue eyes were somewhat dim. Curious, he indicated the seat in front of his desk.
“Then I’m honored,” he said as he took a seat; his old chair creaked and groaned under his considerable weight. “Are you here to take me up on my offer of telling you more glorious Celtic legends?”
Her weak smile returned and she glanced around his office; artwork of Celtic crosses lined the walls, as did replicas and images of swords and other battle instruments. There was also a great big cape that had some kind of Celtic knot sewn into it, matted to the biggest shadowbox she had ever seen. All in all, it was an office full of rich Celtic relics, something he displayed proudly as a man dedicated to the history of his people.
“Sort of,” she replied to his question, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I didn’t know who else to ask about this.”
He sat forward, folding his hands on his desk. His blue eyes were intense. “Ask what?”
Destry took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to start this conversation. She’d been trying to figure out how to start it for the past two hours, ever since she decided to seek out Dr. Daderga. She’d been up all night with the dilemma and now, she hardly knew where to begin. But she had to start somewhere. She could only hope she didn’t come across like a madwoman.
“Okay, here goes,” she puffed out her cheeks and fixed him in the eye. “Dr. Daderga, I know you don’t know me but I want to assure you that I’m not an idiot or a drama queen. I’m actually quite normal; I have a master’s degree in Nursing and I’m a shift supervisor in the coronary care unit at the University of San Diego Medical Center. I come from a nice, normal family with a mom and a dad and a younger sister. I don’t drink and I don’t do drugs. I was a cheerleader for the San Diego Chargers for a couple of years and I also do charity work, if that makes any difference. Anyway, I’m a normal girl. But I really need to ask you a question.”
His dark blue gaze was glittering at her over the top of his desk. “Ask away. I’m all yours.”
She stared at him a moment before finally shaking her head. “Please don’t think I’m nuts, but I’ve been up all night with terrible nightmares. I haven’t been able to sleep at all. Ever since I left that mound yesterday, I’ve been having all sorts of… well, crazy thoughts. Really crazy things.”
He sat back in his chair. “Like what?”
She threw up her hands and he could see how exasperated she was, almost bordering on tears. “All night, every time I fell asleep, I’d have these dreams that I was back at the mound and people inside of it were talking to me.”
His brow furrowed. “People inside of it?”
She nodded vigorously. “Yes,” she insisted. “It was like they were ghosts or something, and I could hear them, like whispers. They kept trying to talk to me and reach out to me. But I couldn’t understand what they were saying.”
He was trying not to grin at her, thinking that her problem was more than likely just an overactive imagination. Ancient tales and an ancient site could do that to people who were not accustomed to such things. Personally, he didn’t really care why she was here, crazy stories notwithstanding, because it gave him an excuse to see her again. He remained casual in his reply.
“So you’ve come to me to interpret your nightmares?” he said. “That’s really not in my scope of work, but I’ll give it a try. What did they say?”
Destry thought a moment, terrified that if she closed her eyes again to remember the words, then she would start having those visions again. They swamped her all night, faceless wraiths that invaded her dreams and whispered mysterious words to her. Even thinking about them again made her heart pound. She had been so scared that she had sat up most of the night in the bathroom with the light on. She just couldn’t face the dark again. She gazed at Conor with some pain in her expression.
“I hope you can figure it out,” she murmured sincerely, “because I’ve never had anything like this happen to me, ever, and you were the only person I could think of that might know.”
“Like I said, I’ll give it a go. What were the words?”
“I don’t even know what language they were. They sounded like gibberish to me.”
“More than likely, since it was a dream. Do you remember them?
She took a deep breath before haltingly spitting them out. “Fanacht, morrigan, gnáthlá agus oiche og ceanna; tar ar cúl do sinne.”
Conor’s smile vanished with unnatural rapidity. He stared at her, sitting forward in his chair as a queer expression crossed his features.
“What?” he said, as if he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Where did you hear that?”
She looked sick and scared. “I told you,” she said wearily. “That’s what those… those ghosts said to me in my dreams. Do you know what language it is? Is it even a language?”
The longer he looked at her, the more confused he became. He suddenly stood up, moving his big body around the side of the desk, all the while seemingly greatly torn. His expression was full of confusion. Destry watched him anxiously.
“Do those words mean anything to you?” she asked again.
He looked at her. Then, he plopped his buttocks on the edge of his desk and reached out, taking her hands. Flesh against flesh met, the heat from his enormous hands searing her skin. He ended pulling her off the chair, holding her hands against his broad chest as he looked at her with the most confused expression Destry had ever seen.
“You’d better start from the beginning, sweetheart,” he said with a mixture of confusion and patience. “Where did you hear those words?”
She was starting to become frightened. “I told you,” she repeated. “Those ghosts said them to me. But… but I didn’t tell you all of it.”
“Then tell me all of it.”
She hung her head miserably. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
He squeezed her hands, still clutched against his enormous chest. “No, I’m not. Tell me.”
“But I even think I’m crazy,” she insisted, her eyes coming up to meet his. “Yesterday when you were talking to your students, I walked around the mound.”
“I know. I saw you.”
She cocked her head thoughtfully. “I went down to where the passages were,” she told him. “I was looking in one of the passages when this wind blew up around me and then I heard someone whisper ‘Etain’.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Etain?” he repeated. “Is that why you asked me if I’d ever heard the name?”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “And… and right at sunset, right when the sun’s rays hit the stone slabs of the passage where I was standing, something really weird happened.”
“What?”
“I’m not lying about this.”
“I know. Tell me what happened.”
She took a breath for courage, trying to ignore the fact that he was caressing the fingers he was holding so tightly against his muscular chest. “The passage way got really bright,” she said, her voice lowering seriously. “And as it brightened, this wind kicked up, like it was blowing out of the tunnel. And I could hear these whispers, like they were coming from inside the mound, like hundreds of people whispering at me. They said ‘fanacht, morrigan, gnáthlá agus oiche og ceanna; tar ar cúl do sinne’.”
He gazed steadily at her. “The same thing they said to you in your dream.”
“Exactly,” she looked imploringly at him. “But what does it mean?”
He sighed and continued rubbing her hands, clutched against his chest. He thought a moment. “Well,” he said. “The literal translation is Be still, fair queen, as day and night become the same. Come back to us.”
She stared at him, digesting his words, and her eyes suddenly widened. “You… you understood that?”
“I did,” he replied. “It’s an old dialect of Celtic.”
She swallowed hard and pulled away from him, a hand to her head as if to hold in her baffled brain. She stumbled back, confused and frightened, before sitting heavily on a small couch he had against the wall.
“But that’s impossible,” she finally said, looking up at him. “I don’t even know Celtic. I don’t know anything about it. How could I dream something like that?”
He stood up from his desk, moving slowly in her direction. “You’ve been in Ireland for a few days,” he said. “Maybe you inadvertently heard something like that. Who knows how the mind works?”
She shook her head, baffled. “But that’s a full phrase,” she said. “More than that, I swear to you that something from that mound touched me yesterday. I could feel it brush against my hand. And I kept hearing ‘Etain’. I didn’t even know who that was until you told me. How could I imagine that?”
He drew in a long, thoughtful breath before lowering himself next to her on the couch; she was such a little thing compared to his enormous size and he resisted the urge to put his arm around her to comfort her. She seemed like she needed it and he would have very much liked to. Instead, he rested his elbows on his knees, folding his hands to keep them from reaching out to her.
“Who knows?” he said quietly. “I wish I could tell you but that kind of thing is out of my line of work. I wouldn’t get so upset about it; it was probably just a fleeting thing.”
She looked at him, as close to him as she had ever been. She could see the smoothness of his pale skin and his long white eyelashes.
“So you don’t think I’m crazy?” she asked softly.
He smiled faintly. “No,” he said. “I think you’ve got some jet lag and an exhausted mind playing tricks on you.”
“I hope so.”
“I think I might be able to help, though.”
“How?”
“Dinner and drinks. I’d like to show you a little of Dublin and take your mind off your troubles.”
A small but genuine smile spread over her lips. “I’m not a charity case, Doctor. You don’t need to take me on a pity date because deep down, you really think I’m crazy.”
He laughed, displaying his big white teeth and slightly prominent canines. He had a magnificent smile.
“Are you joking?” he snorted. “If anything, people will think you’re doing me a favor simply by going out with me. In case you haven’t realized it, you’re an incredibly beautiful woman. I realize that you’re way out of my league, but I’d be honored if you would at least consider the dinner and drinks.”
Destry was appalled to realize that she was actually considering it. But there was a larger part of her that was bent on self-protection given what she had just gone through. It was enough to make her greatly indecisive.
“I’d like to,” she said honestly. “But… well, it’s just not a good idea for me right now. But thank you for the offer.”
Based on what her friend Aisling had told him yesterday, he had a pretty good idea why she was rejecting him and he wasn’t the least bit offended. Nor was he deterred.
“I’m really a cad, you know,” he said softly.
“Why?”
He wriggled his red eyebrows. “Because I’m going to stalk you until you agree to go out with me.” As she started to laugh, he grew more animated; he started throwing his big arms around for emphasis. “I’m going to hang out in your hotel lobby and plead my case every time you come out of your room. I may even latch on to your leg and refuse to let go. And if you don’t go out with me, I’ll… I’ll throw myself from the roof and then you’ll be sorry.”
She shook her head, still snorting with laughter. “Don’t do that,” she told him. “I’m not worth it.”
His blue eyes glimmered with humor, with warmth. “Yes, you are,” he insisted, his voice softening. “I know this is supposed to be your honeymoon. I may not be your groom, but I’d certainly like to treat you like a very special lady once or twice while you’re here. Please don’t turn me down.”
Destry stared at him, her smile fading. “Did Aisling tell you that?”
He nodded. “When you walked away from me so quickly yesterday, I thought I had offended you. I told Aisling to apologize to you on my behalf but she said that I hadn’t done anything wrong. She told me that you were supposed to be in Dublin on your honeymoon but that it hadn’t worked out. So I apologize if I upset you yesterday commenting about the Davenport’s grand honeymoon suite.”
Destry averted her gaze, away from his handsome face and probing eyes. After a moment, she sighed faintly. “You didn’t,” she said. “I guess I’m just going to have to get used to the idea.”
“What happened?”
She looked at him, sharply, preparing to tell him it was none of his business but she could see that he wasn’t trying to invade her privacy. His gentle question felt caring and sincere. She found herself answering him before she really thought about it.
“I was stupid, I guess,” she shrugged her shoulders. “We had been dating about a year. He was a professional athlete and I’d heard rumors of him having other women, but I guess I just didn’t want to believe it. I thought I could be everything to him. We had this big wedding planned and on the day of the wedding, I’m all dressed up at the church and his best man came in with a note. The note said that he was sorry but he just couldn’t go through with the wedding. So I put away my wedding dress and brought Aisling along with me on what was supposed to be my honeymoon. And here I am.”
Conor gazed at her, shaking his head with great regret when their eyes met. “Can I say something, please?” he asked softly.
“Sure.”
“He is the stupidest man who has ever walked this earth. What fool would turn down a chance to spend the rest of his life with you?”
“You don’t really know me; for all you know, I could be a major pain in the ass.”
He laughed softly. “If you were, I would have already seen the signs by now.”
“The nightmares aren’t enough of a sign?”
He shrugged. “Maybe a sign that you’re a future mental patient, but not a sign that you’re a pain in the arse. Your fiancé is a moron and you’re better off without him.”
She smiled faintly; somehow, in telling him, it had eased her damaged heart a little. His words made her feel comforted, supported. She shrugged again, looking at her hands.
“I guess I would rather have him back out before the wedding than after,” she said. “The main thing is that I’m going to enjoy this trip if it kills me. But this thing with the nightmares is really getting to me. I’m afraid to go back to the hotel and try to sleep even though I’m exhausted.”
His gaze drifted over her face. “You look exhausted,” he agreed. Then he suddenly looked around, grabbing a pillow from behind him. He wedged it against the arm of the couch where Destry was sitting. “You can lay down here. I’ve got some work to do at my desk and I’ll sit with you for a while. If the nightmares come back, I’ll chase them away.”
She smiled gratefully. “You really don’t have to do that,” she insisted. “I’ve already taken enough of your time.”
He waved her off and began shoving her sideways so she would lie down on the couch. “Don’t fight with me,” he said. “Just lie down. I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”
“But I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because… well, because we just met each other. This is really strange.”
“If you won’t go out with me, then at least lie on my couch. It’s the least you can do since you’re going to break my heart.”
She snorted. But the thought of trying to sleep with his enormous, protective presence just a few feet away admittedly brought her comfort. She could feel herself relenting as she lifted an eyebrow at him.
“Well…,” she said reluctantly. “You’re not going to try anything funny, are you?”
His brow furrowed. “Like what? Whisper old Irish phrases in your ear while you’re sleeping?”
“You’d better not.”
He grinned. “I won’t, I promise.”
They smiled at each other for a few moments, the first true genuinely warm moment they had ever shared. He was breaking Destry down with his chivalry and kindness, something she very much needed. She finally lowered herself down onto the couch as he stood up, taking her legs and putting them up on the couch. He stood over her a moment, watching her get comfortable.
“Are you cozy now?”’ he asked.
She snuggled down against the pillow, instantly feeling very sleepy. “Fine,” she said. “Thanks, Dr. Daderga. I really appreciate your kindness.”
He watched her, realizing he’d probably give everything he owned at the moment for the chance to lie down next to her. He couldn’t explain the strong attraction to her or the fact that he wanted to take her into his arms and never let her go. He’d known a lot of attractive women in his life but he’d never known a pull as strong as this one. It was unsettling but marvelous.
“Please call me Conor,” he said softly. “And it’s my pleasure.”
Destry smiled at him as he winked at her and turned back for his desk. She didn’t even remember him sitting down behind it before she was fast asleep.
Destry was screaming again before she realized it.