"What's going on?" Connor said blearily as he sat up, looking absolutely magnificent with the cloak around his waist and the low light of the dying fire dancing from his muscles. God, this was a view she could get used to… even the knocking at the door wasn't enough to distract her from his physique. She was just about to reach out for him when he got to his feet, an irritated expression on his face as he reached for his pants and hauled them over his sleek, muscular legs. A dreadful shame, she thought idly, pulling the cloak up around herself to protect herself from the chilly late afternoon air.
"Who's at the door?" she said, curious but too lazy and sleepy to worry about getting up. He shook his head, frowning as he padded over to the door barefoot and slammed it open. From her vantage point on the floor she could see a little way out the door over Connor's shoulder, but his body should block her from being seen by whoever it was.
"What the hell do you want?" he demanded, voice low and gruff. There was a murmur of sound outside, and Karen's eyes widened as she craned her neck to try to see what was going on. It seemed for all the world like an angry mob had come to the door — she could hear them shouting, and worry began to gnaw at her. They knew she was here, it seemed — that made sense. They'd walked through the streets together, and it was no secret that she and Connor had been getting close over the last few weeks… it made sense that she'd be taking shelter here. But they'd driven her from the inn, she thought with mounting frustration. Where had they expected her to go?
Were they trying to get her kicked out of town altogether? That seemed likelier and likelier as she heard the shouting grow louder. Despair began to sink into her stomach, reawakening the anger that had been so pleasantly quashed by her time with Connor by the fire… they seriously believed she was a witch? They wanted her gone?
A familiar voice rose above the crowd, and it was all she could do not to surge to her feet and spring out there to give the crowd a piece of her mind. Why, that was Rosemary, William's widow — the woman with a sick child, the woman who should be grateful to have a doctor in the village, not calling for her removal. Seething, Karen moved a little closer to the door, careful to stay out of view of the crowd outside, trying to get a better sense of what was going on. Connor had stepped through the door and closed it behind him, but she was able to peer through a window, staying hidden while getting a good vantage on the confrontation.
Connor looked terrifying. He stood there, half-naked, the late afternoon sun dancing off his muscular physique. In one hand he held a sword — she hadn't even seen him pick it up. It was still in its sheath, held easily at his side, but the message was clear — he was more than willing to defend himself, and her, if he needed to. That sent a surge of warmth through her, his protectiveness. She'd always been the kind of woman who protected herself, but having Connor on her side, in her corner, ready to fight for her… there was something about that that made her feel a way she'd never felt before.
"What exactly do you want?" he demanded of Rosemary, who'd stepped to the front of the group. Still clad all in black, still looking haggard, the woman lifted her chin, pinning her furious gaze on Connor. Some people's grief turned to despair, Karen reflected sadly, thinking back on the families she'd had to break bad news to… and some people's grief turned to anger. Rosemary seemed to be of the latter category. She was channeling her loss, the sadness about her husband's death, into attacking an innocent person. Knowing that went some way to stilling Karen's anger, transforming it into pity… though it was still frustrating to be disturbed like this for no good reason, especially when she'd finally gotten her hands on that gorgeous man out there…
"It's perfectly simple, Connor Grant," Rosemary snapped, her voice authoritative even though it shook a little. "We have reasonable suspicion that there is a witch living amongst us. We want you to tell us where it is, so we might hold it for trial."
"It? Her name is Karen," he snarled, and Karen saw Rosemary recoil at the fury on his face. "And she's done more for this village, to protect it and keep it safe, than you have in your entire miserable life —"
"Maybe she has," Rosemary said firmly, cutting him off. "And maybe she's the cause of the problems she's pretending to help us fix, did you think of that? The pox was nowhere near this bad until she turned up." The villagers murmured their angry agreement — to Karen's dismay, she saw a few among them with lesions on their hands and arms. She just hoped they hadn't been stupid enough to touch one another on this daft mission of theirs.
"That's a coincidence," Connor said through gritted teeth. "I'm not telling you where she is so you can conduct some farcical trial, that's for certain."
"She'll have to answer for her crimes eventually," Rosemary said, her voice low and deadly.
"Look," Connor said, clearly frustrated. He ran the hand not holding his sword through his hair, pushing it out of his face. "You're all being utter fools. I understand you're grieving, and I'm with you there. I knew those boys — their deaths were a great shame. But that doesn't give you the right to hassle an innocent woman who's helping us."
"If she's innocent, let her prove it," Rosemary snapped. "Bring her to the church yourself, if you don't trust us to convey her there safely." There was an ugly jeer from the crowd at this point that made it pretty clear that that lack of trust was entirely justified.
"The church? Father Caleb's involved with all of this?"
"Who better to test a witch?" Rosemary replied smugly, her eyes gleaming.
But Connor was nodding. "And if Father Caleb clears Karen of witchcraft, you'll all agree to leave her alone?"
"Of course."
"Fine," he said, gritting his teeth. "That's fine. You all go back to your homes, and I'll bring Karen up to the church later this evening and we'll figure out some way to put your daft minds at ease. Alright?"
Rosemary gave a stiff little nod, and the crowed, at her signal, began to disperse. Connor stood in the front yard until they'd gone, shaking his head, before he came back inside and shut the door. Karen went to him and he took her into his arms, holding her close.
"Damn fools," he muttered into her throat.
She nodded. "Thanks for sticking up for me."
"Of course," he said blankly.
She smiled and kissed him… but she felt as troubled as he looked. Clearly, the villagers were unhappy with her being here. Tensions were coming to a boiling point… what were they going to do?
Chapter 37
For now, it seemed, they were going to go back to bed. She'd only intended their kiss to be brief, but he was just so magnetic, and it wasn't long until they were entwined in a passionate embrace again, Connor's powerful arms around her waist, drawing her close… the cloak fell to the ground between them and she shivered in the cool air, leaning into him, instinctively seeking the comfort of his body in the wake of the uncertainty and chaos of everything that was happening, the literal angry mob that had come to his door to drag her off to be tested for witchcraft…
But she couldn't think about any of that with his hands on her body, his lips against hers, crushing her to him as their kiss deepened. She could feel his passion stirring, feel his manhood hard against her body, and she shivered with desire, feeling her own body respond in some deep, instinctive way she barely understood but knew well enough to follow… and then she gasped as he lifted her in his arms, effortlessly powerful, and carried her toward his bed.
Connor half threw, half placed her onto the bed, and she giggled as she sank into the quilts, grinning as he hurled himself down on top of her and renewed kissing her with considerable vigor. They lost themselves in one another again, using their hands and mouths to coax pleasure from one another — she grew bolder as the afternoon gave way to early evening, pressing him back against the bed and straddling him, her hands flattened against his broad, muscular chest as she sat back to contemplate the gorgeous man spread out beneath her. His hands were resting on her hips, caressing her, sending shivers of pleasure up and down her body as he
rocked his hips, urging her to do what they both so clearly wanted… and with a grin, she slid herself down on top of him, impaling herself on his manhood and gasping at the new sensation.
In this position, the angle was even better, and she rocked her hips experimentally, groaning at the feeling of him inside her… and surprising even him with how good it felt to move together. It wasn't long before he was utterly lost, groaning as he bucked his hips furiously, trying to get more sensation, to drive himself deeper and deeper into her… and she moaned as she felt her own climax drawing closer, supporting herself with her palms flattened against his chest, rocking her hips back and forth to coax every inch of pleasure from him…
She was on the edge before she knew it, but there was no need to hold herself back, to wait for him — he was groaning as his own climax neared, clearly fighting to hold himself back, to wait for her, and she had to fight back a scream as she let her orgasm crash over her like a great wave, aftershocks of pleasure rocketing through her as her lover groaned beneath her, his hands clutching desperately at her hips as his own climax struck him.
Karen all but fell into bed beside him and he gathered her closer to him, pressing soft kisses to the side of her head as their breathing settled. Connor pulled the quilt over them both and they lay close, their bodies still damp with perspiration. He smelled utterly intoxicating… that powerful, masculine musk, something deep and powerful about it, something that made her just want to kiss him over and over and never leave the warmth of his embrace…
They lay there in that twilight a long time before the real world came creeping back into her memory, and she sighed heavily, drawing a puzzled look from him. His eyes had been sliding shut as he drifted off into a half-sleep, but he propped himself up on one elbow now, looking down at her thoughtfully.
"What's the matter?"
"The villagers think I'm a witch."
"Well, you've certainly cast a spell on me," he murmured huskily, and she couldn't help but laugh as she looked up at him. "It's true," he said softly. "I've never felt this way about another woman, Karen Frakes."
"Neither have I," she said, weakened by that smile, by the afterglow of their lovemaking, by the scent of him. "And I've never…" She was blushing, but she fought to keep speaking, that dazzling smile of his keeping her going. "I've never had sex this good in my life."
He laughed, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tightly, and she giggled too, feeling utterly euphoric. "Can I stay here?" she said breathlessly, not caring if it was too much, too soon, too ridiculous. "Can I —"
"I never want you to leave," he murmured, squeezing her before looking her meaningfully in the eye, his face alive with feeling. "I want you to stay with me as long as you want. Forever, if you want to."
She ducked her head, a little overwhelmed, and they lay together for a long time, her head pillowed on his chest and his arm around her shoulders. She could have laid there forever, it felt like… but her memory of what the villagers had said kept creeping in around the edges of her bliss, and eventually she sighed, sitting up in bed despite his protests and attempts to pull her back into his arms.
"We have an important appointment," she said heavily, reaching down to push that beautiful hair of his out of his face.
He scowled. "With a bunch of fools."
"The sooner I prove I'm not a witch, the sooner we can get back to figuring out what's happening around here. The more they'll trust me to stop them from getting sick. The more likely I might be to have a future as a doctor here," she added, shaking his shoulder a little. "Come on, Connor. Father Caleb's alright, isn't he?"
"I suppose," Connor said grumpily, still not looking thrilled at the idea. "He'll be fair, at least."
"We'll go to him now, find out what I need to do to prove my innocence… then we'll come back to bed. Deal?"
"If we must," Connor said heavily, dragging himself reluctantly out of bed with an expression so dejected she couldn't help but laugh.
Despite the fact that she was getting dressed and ready to go up to a literal witch trial, she couldn't help but feel utter joy in her chest. She wanted to sing, to dance, to scream her joy to the rooftops. She'd wanted him for so long… and he wanted her too. Not just for sex — forever, he'd said. And even though she'd only known him for a few weeks, something about that didn't feel overwhelming, or like it was too much commitment too soon. Something about it just felt… right.
She smiled to herself as she finished dressing. He was ready and waiting for her by the door, his hair pulled back in its usual neat tie, his expression a mixture of annoyance at having to go out… and delight at the way she reached out to take his hand in hers. They set out together into the gathering dusk, hand in hand, and Karen knew that no matter what the villagers might have in store for her — no matter what kind of ridiculous trial they might expect her to go through to prove that she wasn't a witch — she could face whatever it was a hundred times over if she had Connor at her side.
Chapter 38
The late afternoon sun made the village glow warmly in that golden-hour way that Karen was getting more and more fond of. It might have been the leftover sex endorphins, it might have been the giddy rush still lingering from their respective confessions of their feelings, or it might have just been that she felt good after a nap… but somehow, Karen couldn't bring herself to worry too much about just where it was they were headed. A witch trial… or something like it. But what did she have to fear? She wasn't a witch — that ought to be easy enough to prove. These people were scared, they weren't malicious — she'd done nothing to anger any of them except know a few more things than they did and turn up at a time when a lot of strange and frightening things were going on. She'd find a way to convince them she was a friend, not a threat. And quietly, she looked forward to receiving a few sincere apologies once they figured out who their friends really were.
Connor was stony-faced as they approached the church, where torches were already burning in anticipation of the coming night. Dozens of villagers were there — not quite as many as the meeting the other night, but enough to send a prickle of unease running down her spine. Were this many villagers really convinced she was a witch — or at the very least, interested in seeing the proof to the contrary? What proof was she going to have to offer? She remembered reading about a witch trial that had been favored a long time ago… women would be bound and thrown into a body of water. If they floated, they were witches, and would be burned — if they sank, they were innocent, but of course, they'd drown, so it was something of a hollow victory. What if they threw her into the Loch with her hands bound? Would the Loch Ness Monster save her again? She almost laughed at that mental image. What result did that indicate, on the witch test?
She noticed that while many villagers who'd been peering at her through the inn's windows were present, Thomas was not. She wasn't sure how to take that. He'd seemed fairly sympathetic to her — had offered her free room and board until the pressure from the village got to be too much for him to handle. Did his absence mean he supported her? Or was he just feeling too guilty for casting her out to be here? She frowned to herself. He'd been happy enough to accept the work of 'witches' when he'd accepted Maggie's cure — even though Maggie herself had admitted there was nothing magic about it, he hadn't known that. It was frustrating, how willing the villagers were to accept 'magic' when it suited them… but when it came to something they didn't understand…
She headed up to the front of the church, reasoning that if she were the reason for the meeting, she may as well get up where everyone could see her. Father Caleb gave her a wan little smile, clearly deeply uncomfortable with what was going on here. Was he on her side? she wondered. It would be a relief to have an ally in the priest… and he'd certainly shown no signs that he distrusted her in any way. Maybe she could just splash some holy water on her face in full view of everybody and be done with it… would wearing a crucifix help? She made a point of standing close to the huge cross that
stood at the back of the church, hoping that her proximity to it might put some minds at ease. See, she wanted to say? No sizzling skin. Now can we stop wasting everyone's time when there's an epidemic afoot and monstrous creatures hunting us in the night?
The village leaders were seated in the front row — she recognized a few of them from having spoken at the meeting a few nights previous. They were stony faced when they looked at her, the whole council, and she sighed, irritated despite herself. Was it their fault that this was happening, or were they simply responding to the demands of their people? Rosemary was sitting in the row behind them, her face set with determination, and Karen suppressed the flare of irritation that went up in her chest when she looked at her. She had to remind herself that grief could make people act out in strange ways… and this woman had just lost her husband.
"Right then," Father Caleb said from the pulpit, raising his voice a little anxiously. "Now, I understand we've all called this — this uh, impromptu meeting, I suppose — to discuss some troubling accusations that have been made."
"Baseless accusations," Connor cut in, his voice snapping and bristling with anger. A murmur went up among the assembled villagers, all of them exchanging glances, and Karen bit her lip, reaching out to put a steadying hand on Connor's arm. She hoped he didn't make too much of a point of defending her. The harder he fought the idea that she was a witch, she knew, the more strongly inclined the villagers would be to believe he was ensorcelled by her, that she was controlling him in the interests of protecting her. The best approach, she decided, was to treat the accusation as though it was ridiculous and easily dismissed. Which was why she smiled as she stepped up beside Father Caleb, giving the room a reassuring little nod as he continued.
Troubled By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Forever Book 6) Page 15
