Dark Desires of the Druids: Temptations and Treachery I admit, this was an additional story. I'd always wanted to tell Isadore's story, but the overall arc of my Druids was a trilogy. Then I realized just how perfect Isadore and James were together. How could I resist? Especially when prim & proper Isadore wanted more--more action, more adventure, more romance? I caved, and James Blackthorne did, too. *G*

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Excerpt:
James hovered over Isadore’s chair, feeling protective toward her, and the need to distance Dinshaw from her. When they’d come up with this plan, he hadn’t counted on Dinshaw being taken with Isadore. Or Isadore’s reaction to him.

The council was gone, as was his carriage. Takoda lurked outside, and Irisi was back at Morgana’s house pretending they were all there.

“I think everyone believed our little scene,” Dinshaw said. He grinned at Isadore and James wanted to rip him to pieces.

“You’ve very convincing, Allen,” James said, deadpan. “I almost believed you.”

Dinshaw merely grinned and said to Isadore, “I’ll be at the North American with my business associates. Will the two of you lie in wait?”

“Maybe not lie in wait,” Isadore laughed. James saw red. “But we’ll be here should anyone try to enter your home.”

“Is there anything else we need to do?” he asked, pathetically excited over the entire endeavor.
“No.” James stated. “Wouldn’t want you to be late.”

“No, no,” Dinshaw said, standing, “of course not.” He kissed Isadore’s hand, smiled down at her. James grabbed his arm and hustled him out of the room.

“We’ll be here,” he repeated. “Make sure you protect yourself, don’t go off alone. And don’t come back too soon.”

Dinshaw nodded, gathering hat, cane, gloves. “Oh, I’ll be several hours at least.”

“Excellent.”

James hung back from the door, making sure no one saw him. The entire point of their plan was to make Dinshaw’s house the most appealing tonight.

“I’ll be back late, Alfred!” he called to his butler. James rolled his eyes. The door closed behind Dinshaw with a decisive click.

“There was no need to push him out the door,” Isadore said from beside him.

“Yes there was.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t like the way he looked at you,” he growled, pulling her to him.

“James,” she chuckled, “he’s a consummate flirt, nothing more.”

“I don’t care,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’ve become very possessive of you.” He pulled back and looked at her. “I hope that isn’t a problem?”

He wasn’t sure he cared if it was. Isadore was his. In their short time together, he’d grown closer to her than anyone in his life. He wanted her more, he needed her more. The only thing stopping him from beating Dinshaw to a bloody pulp was the knowledge they needed him, and his house, for their plan to work.

“No,” she whispered. “But it might be when I return to England.”

“If I let you go.”