The Celtic God Who Loved Her

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Hot air bristled the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. “A beauty like you should be in the arms of a man.”

His voice, a deep baritone, sent shivers down her spine, and she squirmed. She turned to gaze at a handsome stranger and sucked in cold air. It did nothing to cool the steam this sexy man created. Her pulse jumped in a tight tempo faster than the music that boomed in the background. Over six feet tall, stormy blue eyes danced with the flames of the fire and ignited an answering one in her skin. Deep, red hair framed his chiseled features.

Let the dating games begin, please!

“I’m not much of a dancer, I’m afraid,” Jade mumbled and gazed at his bare chest. His leather costume pants hugged muscular legs, and all three of them enormous. God, how could he fit into anyone? Her gaze drifted upward to the sword and harp.

Crap I’m staring! Her gaze met with a pair of sky blue eyes. A knowing grin told her he’d caught her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. My name is Dagda.” His voice dipped lower, his gaze heated, and he offered a hand.

“Like the Dagda of the Tuatha de Danann?”

He nodded. “Would you dance with me? I promise not to step on your feet.”

Jade fortified her courage with a deep breath and prepared to do something she hadn’t done in six years: dance. The night we brought home the twins. “My name is Jade Blair.” She put her small hand in his. “I’d love to dance.” Her voice squeaked, and her panties grew damp from the desire zipping through her.

Dagda led her onto the crowded dance floor, her body inches from his as they swayed to the music. “You live here?” he asked. His heated hand dropped to her hip.

Cold air traveled down her throat, and the smell of pine tickled her nose. He pulled her close. His voice, deep and vibrant, aroused her, and Jade burned with desire. She’d never wanted a man as badly as she did right now.

“We just moved in about a month ago.” Her arms inched up around his neck, unable to circle it due to his height, and rested on his toned shoulders.

“Is your husband around?” Dagda’s hand inched back to the small of her back. Uncertainty hung in the air.

She looked out at the crowd. “He died a year ago next month.” Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of her husband, but she knew she needed to move on. With a small smile pasted on her face, she looked up into his eyes. “The kids and I wanted a change, so we decided to move here.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We wanted a fresh start.” Her voice stuttered for a moment.

The song ended, and she backed out of his embrace. “Would you like a beer or something to drink?” she asked and walked toward the buffet table.

He followed her, his warm body an enticing distraction. “A beer would be great, and I’m sorry about your husband.”

Their eyes met, and genuine concern warmed his cobalt orbs. He squeezed her hand in reassurance and leaned further into her personal space.

She needed this. She wanted a man who cared. His strong, firm lips inched closer to hers.

Please one kiss! Her body and heart craved his kiss.