IntoEternity

by Christina James

  The deep rumble of words that emanated from the large man who held her so securely sent a shiver of apprehension racing down her spine. She couldn’t understand what he said but the words seemed familiar. Deep in the recesses of her mind, she knew she should be able to decipher his meaning. Clearly her captor was scolding the boy. His small shoulders drooped with each biting word the huge man discharged in his direction.

  “Now just wait a minute, buddy!” Gusty struggled to free herself from his iron grasp. She couldn’t just hang there and let the barbarian chastise the poor little boy in such a manner. The kid had saved her life, after all.

  Suddenly she found herself on her feet, facing the biggest, most handsome specimen of manhood she had ever seen. He stood so tall she took a step back and still she had to arch her neck to look up at him. Cold silver-gray eyes seemed to bore into her and under the full force of his gaze she felt as intimidated as the boy appeared to be.

  Gusty wondered if she should not have been so impetuous. After all no one had ever been hurt by a few harsh words. The big barbarian had not laid a hand on the boy. At least not yet. She glanced at the child. Tears streamed down his cheeks. The sight brought on a second burst of reckless courage and she straightened up to her full height. Trying to ignore the fact that the top of her head barely came to the middle of his chest and the huge barbarian was as solid as an oak tree, Gusty opened her mouth to reprimand him for his boorishness.

  “You have something to say on the matter, lass?” He lifted one wickedly arched black brow in a challenging gesture.

  The growl of his deep, rich voice melted her already strained nerves as a jolt of heat ripped through her body. She stared up at him with her mouth gaping, momentarily losing her train of thought.

  “Sonofabitch,” she mumbled in disgust over her simpering behavior.

  The tall barbarian’s eyes widened. Apparently certain curse words had not changed much over the centuries. He tightened his full lips, obviously displeased, either with her language or her interrupting his scolding of the boy.

  Suddenly she realized she could understand what he said. He spoke to her in that strange foreign tongue the boy had used and she now understood every word.

  It’s Gaelic!

  The man spoke in Gaelic. She had learned a smidgeon of the language from her grandmother—not nearly enough to interpret an entire sentence. But as if someone threw a switch in her brain, firing some long-ago memory, all his words made sense to her. She understood every single one. Not only understood them but realized she could speak the language as well.

  “You shouldn’t be so harsh with the boy. He’s done nothing wrong.” She wanted to laugh at herself, she sounded so odd speaking something other than English.

  “He’s done nothing wrong?” The man took a menacing step toward her, obviously trying to alarm her.

  Gusty squared her shoulders, refusing to be intimidated by this overgrown, macho pretty-boy. Not only did she stand her ground, she crossed her arms over her chest in a good imitation of his stance and glared back at him.

  “What is your name?”

  His sudden change of topic took her completely by surprise but before she could open her mouth he pressed on.

  “Well? What are you called?”

  “Her name is Gusty, Laird,” the boy muttered, never looking up.

  She gave the child a slight frown before returning her attention to the handsome barbarian.

  He stared at her as if he had never seen a woman. Gusty flushed at the boldness of his perusal as his cool silver eyes raked over her body. She waited breathlessly as he took his time looking at her. His gaze was like a caress. Wherever it touched, her skin flushed with warmth.

  Gusty shivered, despite her best efforts not to show any reaction. The way he stared at her, as if he were stripping her naked and caressing her with invisible hands, unnerved her. She was comfortable in her own skin even if she didn’t resemble the women in the fashion magazines. She had been told that the combination of her midnight-black hair and her whiskey-gold eyes brought to mind a large jungle cat. She rather liked that analogy and at the moment, she wished she had a panther’s courage so she could bluff her way around the giant standing before her.

  “What kind of name is Gusty?”

  The focus of his gaze had her flushing hot, bringing her out of her preoccupation with the force of a slap.

  “It’s an Isles name, Cousin.” The boy offered.

  Ah, so the two were related. Gusty shook her head over the child’s insistence that she came from the Isles. She had never confirmed his belief as to her origins but she had not denied his assertion either. At the moment it seemed like a silly thing to argue over. After all, what did it really matter what these two thought?

  “It is none of your concern how I discipline the lad. My cousin deserves more than just my harsh words for what he has done. In his little escapade, he not only left the safety of my holdings two days ago, he also wandered onto Ross land. Our presence here is enough to start a war. In addition, he stole my horse, drawing me and my men out of our warm beds in the middle of a miserably rainy night to go chasing after him, endangering our lives for no good reason. And lastly, he has the misfortune of traveling with a beautiful woman from the Isles.”

  Most of what he said seemed to justify his anger—the boy deserved to be the target of his cousin’s wrath—but the barbarian’s last statement made very little sense to her. What would her being from the Isles have to do with anything?

  “Why does it matter?” she asked and then clarified. “If I’m from the Isles, I mean.”

  “It matters because you are from the lowlands. Only a mad person would make their way to a place where outlanders are unwelcomed, unwanted.”

  His answer made her laugh outright, something she hadn’t done in a very long time, and it felt damn good to find she still had a sense of humor.

  “You think that amusing, Gusty of the Isles?”

  “I think I’ll just be going back to the Isles, back to my crazy people.”

  She turned and walked swiftly into the trees, determined to put some distance between herself and the arrogant barbarian. Just when she thought she had made her escape she heard the snapping of twigs in the underbrush behind her.

  Damn! She should have realized she could not get away that easily. She stopped and waited, not bothering to turn around, knew what she would find if she did so. If the way the big guy had been salivating over her was anything to go by, he had no intention of letting her get away.

  “You are going nowhere, lass.”

  The heat from his large body warmed her back. He touched her arm, turned her around to face him. Before she could say a word, his head dipped and his lips claimed hers in a kiss that left her entire body tingling with pleasure. Filled with tenderness, passion, anger and longing, the kiss was like none she had ever experienced. With one passionate act, he offered her the world. She gave herself up to the feelings washing over her and when he lifted his head, her knees would have buckled beneath her if his strong arms had not been there to hold her up.

  “I have claimed you, my beautiful selkie.” He whispered against her lips. “You are mine…now, tomorrow and forever into eternity.”

  * * * * *

  Gusty rode in the fast-fading light of the evening through Scottish Highlands, held firmly in the strong arms of perfect stranger. A Highland laird, no less, or so the boy had called his older cousin.

  Her detainment by the giant barbarian had happened so fast she had little time to protest. One minute he was kissing her senseless and the next thing she knew he’d picked her up and carried her through the woods in his mighty arms. Without a by-your-leave he placed her on an incredibly tall horse and climbed up behind her. The big Scots had signaled his men and they’d taken off, galloping down an unmarked trail with her hanging on for dear life.

  They finally stopped when it was too dark to go farther. Gusty breathed a relieved sigh, barely able to hold her eyes open an
d hurting from her forehead to the soles of her blistered feet. The lump she’d sustained gave her a splitting headache and a slight buzzing filled her ears. The Highlander increased his grip on her waist and Gusty realized she was swaying with fatigue and dizziness. Instinctively her grip tightened on the warm arm wrapped about her waist.

  “Steady, Gusty. Can you sit for a moment while my men make a fire?”

  He dismounted and lifted her from the saddle. He set her on her feet and her knees buckled.

  “Whoa there.” He caught her. “Come. There is a log near the fire circle. You can rest there.”

  Gusty pulled away from his helping hands and with grim determination she took two steps toward the log he pointed out. Suddenly her eyesight faded. She stumbled. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt herself falling. She hit the ground hard.

  “Ouch! Dammit!” When her vision cleared she found herself laid out flat on the damp grass beside the log with the Highlander leaning over her.

  “Och, lass! What are you doing?”

  His ludicrous question brought a snort of laughter from her lips, which quickly turned to a low groan of pain. “What do you think I’m doing, you big lug? I am tired and I decided this was the best bet for a bed tonight. What do you mean, what am I doing?” Her try for sarcasm failed as her voice quivered with emotion and her throat closed on a sob. Hurting and altogether miserable, Gusty curled into herself and cried.

  She felt him beside her and strong hands took hold of her, lifted her onto his lap. Warm arms held her fast to a broad chest. A clumsy pat to her head and back let her know her actions had disconcerted her Highland barbarian.

  “Here, lassie. Don’t weep so. I would never cause you any harm nor will I let another do so.”

  The feel of his lips pressing a soft kiss to her temple coupled with his kind words had Gusty wondering if she had perhaps made an error in judging the man so harshly.

  She fought back a groan of frustration. As if she were a modern-day Alice and had chased the rabbit and fallen down the rabbit hole, she’d apparently disappeared off the face of the earth she knew as home. Somehow she must find her way back.

  “My head hurts,” she whispered.

  “Why didn’t you say so, lass? Davin!” he barked.

  She flinched in pain. Her movement must have registered with him because his next command came out in a loud whisper.

  “Davin, fetch the willow bark from my saddlebag and a skin of water.”

  Gusty let the two men doctor her with an ancient remedy and after they had forced a vile concoction down her throat with a good amount of water she lay back on a pallet of thick blankets spread out on the ground for her use. She did not fall asleep immediately but listened to the men sitting around the fire, watched them eat a sparse meal of some sort of flat cakes and dried meat, which they’d dug out of their saddlebags. The sounds of their low laughter and quiet voices soon faded as she dropped off.

  Her great thirst drew her up through layers of sleep. She came awake, shifted on the hard ground and hissed in pain. Her whole body ached. Bruises in places she hadn’t realized she’d injured made themselves known to her. Bruises she had acquired as the result of her run-in with a moving automobile throbbed incessantly. The only relief she felt was the warmth at her back and the thick blanket covering her body.

  She glanced around to find she was surrounded by sleeping men. The movement at her back and the loss of heat had her turning over and sitting up. She pulled the blanket tight about her shoulders. A large, dark shadow dropped beside her.

  “Here. Drink this. Your head still hurts? Drink so you can rest.”

  She hesitated and he pushed the cup into her hands. His large, calloused hands held hers as he tipped up the mug, forcing her to drink the mixture before she could refuse. The concoction tasted just as foul as she remembered and she shuddered and pushed the cup away. She coughed, clearing her throat, and wiped her mouth with her sleeve as she looked around the campsite to see if anyone else was awake. No one moved.

  “Lie down now, Gusty. There are still a couple of hours until the sun rises. Try to sleep.”

  Before she could protest he lay down beside her and drew her back against his hard body. Only then did she realize he had been sleeping on her pallet with her. Thinking to put some distance between them, she eased away but an arm snaked around her waist pulled her firmly back into his warm embrace.

  “Stay still. Do not think to leave me.”

  The low, whispered command stilled her movements. Firm, soft lips grazed the side of her neck. He sighed, and after a few moments his deep, steady breathing told her he’d fallen asleep with her anchored securely in his arms. Gusty had never before slept with a man. Not for sex or just to sleep. She found the arrangement strangely pleasant.

  She lay awake for a long while, not moving and barely breathing as she went over the events of this strange day. At the thought of her brother, knowing he must be frantic wondering what had happened to her, she blinked back stinging tears.

  Oh, Michael, how did this happen? Why did this happen to me?

  * * * * *

  Only a few more hours and they would be at Sutherland Keep. Alexander was looking forward to the end of this journey. The lass on his lap became more of a temptation with every passing hour. Her body pressed against his left him in a needy condition. He tried not to think about how badly he wanted her, but her luscious arse pushed so firmly against his arousal made him bite back a groan. His hand rested at her slender waist and more than once he had felt her stiffen when he moved his fingers and accidently brushed the underside of her full, round breast. He considered slipping his hand beneath her coat and cupping one of her breasts. At the thought he growled, pulled up his mount and leaped to the ground.

  “Why do we stop here, Alexander? It is but a short ride to the keep.”

  At his second’s query Alexander waved his men on. “I have the need for a little privacy. Ride on ahead to the next creek and rest the horses. I will catch up.” He ignored the pointed look Davin threw toward the slender woman in Alexander’s arms.

  Without a word, Davin wheeled his mount and rode off with Duncan and the rest of Alexander’s warriors.

  Alexander helped Gusty to the ground and watched her walk away. While he waited for her to return he checked the cinch on his saddle, patting his horse as he walked around to look at the halter and bit.

  “Why did we stop? I could have made it a while longer before needing some privacy.”

  He glanced up. She stood at a distance, watching him. Gusty walked slowly forward until she stood before him. Her movements seemed a little easier since she’d had some rest and he had forced several doses of his healing brew on her. Still she looked so small and lost, her face pale against the black of her garments.

  “I wanted a few moments alone with you.”

  At her look of surprise he flushed warm. He dropped the reins and reached for her, drawing her into his arms. Before she could react he dipped his head and took her mouth in a long, deep kiss that told better than words what he wanted. His arms tightened around her as his lips moved from her mouth to trail light kisses across her cheek and down her slender neck. She moaned, reached up and gripped two fists of his hair to hold him close. He touched his mouth to hers, his lips moving across hers in a tender caress.

  “I want you, sweet selkie,” he whispered against her lips. “I mean to keep you.”

  He stared down at the beauty’s upturned face, imagining what delights the evening might hold for them both.

  “Come we are almost home.”

  But before he could scoop her up and seat her back on his horse, the Fates intervened. In the blink of an eye his arms were empty.

  “What the h—?”

  Alexander drew his sword as he whirled looking around the small glade. He was befuddled. Where in Hades’ fires had she gone?

  “Gusty?”

  His beautiful selkie could not just vanish. No. Not now. Not when he had finally found her
.

  “Gusty!”

  Chapter Four

  Gusty blinked several times, her mind racing. What the hell…?

  One moment she was in the arms of a large Scottish barbarian, getting the breath kissed out of her, and the next moment she found herself standing fully clothed and in her expensive Italian leather boots, no less, up to her knees in a tub of hot water, which, to her horror, sat in the middle of a blazing fire pit.

  What happened to the very real, very warm lips and hard, muscular arms that just a moment ago had her burning up with desire? Had the handsome Highlander with the beautiful silver-colored eyes been part of some strange dream? If so, she wanted to go back to sleep and not wake up for a good long while. But as she glanced around, taking in the dark, dingy room, she began to wonder if she had just traded one strange dream for an even stranger one. What in the world?

  As she considered climbing out of the water and seeing if she could salvage her leather footwear, hushed whispers sounded from the shadows behind her. Slowly she turned her head and peered through the dimness, trying to make out who else was in the room. The crackling fire provided the only illumination and Gusty had difficulty making out anything beyond the circle of light that surrounded her. She froze. Until she understood just what sort of situation she’d stumbled into, she intended to keep her mouth shut and her ears open. No time to panic now. She would do that later.

  With her head cocked, she listened intently but heard only the sound of her own breathing and the fire crackling under the pot as the water she stood in grew steadily warmer. Cautiously she lifted her foot to step out of the wet situation she’d found herself in when the whispering started again, louder this time and distinctly familiar. She gasped as her eyes widened in wonder.