The Immortal's Redemption

The Immortal's Redemption
Kelli Ireland

A Dangerous Attraction... When a brooding Irishman shows up at the hospital where she works, Kennedy Jefferson knows this stranger is a threat – even as her body craves his masterful touch. Dylan O’Shea is the druid’s assassin charged with finding the single woman who can stop an evil goddess from destruction. He’s searched to find Kennedy for centuries. But Dylan finds himself inexplicably drawn to Kennedy – the woman he’s ordained to kill. With Samhain fast approaching, duty and desire are on an unstoppable collision course...

“Make me forget, Dylan.”

He rolled them over swiftly, reversing their positions. Wrapping her hair around his fist, he began to kiss his way down her neck.

His heart thundered in his chest with a locomotive’s fierce, ground-rattling force. Blood hummed under his skin. Nerves began firing faster, yet he didn’t struggle to control the situation. No, with Kennedy’s soft encouragements, he simply let go and followed where the moment led.

“You’ll be the death of me, Kennedy Jefferson.” He raised her hands over her head, his hands tracing down the soft undersides of her arms and down her sides, thumbs tracing the outer swells of her breasts.

“Dylan.” His name was a tender plea from her lips.

KELLI IRELAND spent a decade as a name on a door in corporate America. Unexpectedly liberated by Fate’s sense of humor, she chose to carpe the diem and pursue her passion for writing. A fan of happily-ever-afters, she found she loved being the puppet master for the most unlikely couples. Seeing them through the best and worst of each other while helping them survive the joys and disasters of falling in love? Best. Thing. Ever. Visit Kelli’s website at www.kelliireland.com (http://www.kelliireland.com).

The Immortal’s

Redemption

Kelli Ireland

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

To Kate Hollister, author and fellow lover of all things that go bump in the night.

Contents

Cover (#uc45b6f77-75f6-5f5a-8e86-6953d4ec3693)

Introduction (#u17e275cb-637f-56fe-b07f-8b117f91f051)

About the Author (#u0c1bb1b5-59a7-5952-84a4-32615d6fa87f)

Title Page (#u319cceb1-d62a-5110-b8c4-c574ce1c0bd0)

Dedication (#u9431bbe9-5b21-5ec3-9864-772f462621ed)

Prologue (#u0d2bf606-3203-556d-8a3a-3c32594ee553)

Chapter 1 (#u44bc5973-eb0b-55b7-8351-574c84b09392)

Chapter 2 (#uc5d46dd7-9b7d-57d5-a0bb-24b6afa8ec05)

Chapter 3 (#u688303be-1d2f-5c20-b9d7-ad434d0eb722)

Chapter 4 (#udc90b729-e279-51ec-9437-88bfdc44e2c8)

Chapter 5 (#u20b40fd0-8f82-570d-a490-3151ae5a611d)

Chapter 6 (#udcce079f-96a5-53b3-bb44-f7b4aff70ad5)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue (#ulink_a18dbbe0-7c4f-546b-9a2e-280658baeca3)

Scotland, 1718

A damp cold seeped into Dylan’s bones. He and another young assassin had spent the night in the hillside cave again, waiting. It was the worst part of his job. He’d rather be active, engaged, whether in subterfuge or killing, because activity meant progress. Waiting meant...waiting. Nothing happened. The sun and moon chased horizons more slowly. And one could only prepare so much before the actions became habitual. And habit would get you killed.

Dylan flipped his kilt higher over his shoulders, his gaze locked on the sun’s first softening of the eastern night sky. The Scottish laird of Clan McKay had made it a personal goal to see the Druids run out of his lands. He’d acted against the peaceful settlements with violence. It was about time the fat bastard met violence in return. He’d have to pass through this valley in order to reach the next Druidic keep. With a fair amount of certainty, Dylan was sure the man would never make it that far. It was, after all, his charge to ensure the laird didn’t make it through this valley.

Dylan rolled onto his back and stared at the darkness above. The cave was deep enough he couldn’t see the ceiling. Fine by him. Meant he didn’t crack his egg when he stood up. He hooked an arm behind his head, pillowing it. As far as headrests went, it wasn’t bad. As far as beds went, the stone floor wasn’t the worst he’d experienced. The cold, though. That was eating into him as he whiled away the hour before dawn with fanciful thoughts of the lass he’d last bedded. Bonnie little thing, blonde hair and all.

What had her name been?

Pebbles skittered down the hillside, the small sound amplified by the dark. A sigh breathed across the cave’s mouth, soft and resigned.

Dylan reached for his smaller sword. The short sword hissed along its leather scabbard as he pulled it free. He clasped his dirk. Dark tartan made nary a sound as he flipped it back, disguising his broadsword. Rising to his feet like a phantom, he readied himself for any threat that might come against him.