by Sky Winters
Chapter Eight
“Tabitha, this piece is amazing. I didn’t know how you would do with an assignment that was so different from your usual work, but it’s incredible,” Sam told her the following week when she returned home.
“Thanks. I enjoyed it more than I can say,” she replied.
“It shows. You look so much happier and healthier than when you left here. I’m glad of that. You deserve that. So, what would you like to do next?”
“Well, that’s the thing, Sam. I’m here to turn in my resignation, effective immediately.”
He frowned at her, his eyes widening in surprise. “What? Why? Is it about money? I can find a way to bump up your pay if that’s what you need.”
“No. It’s not about money at all. I’ve just found out what I really wanted to be when I grew up and I’d like to pursue that.”
“Should I ask what that is?”
“No. Probably not, but you’ll be seeing my name. I promise you that.”
“Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but what can I do. Keep in touch and if you ever change your mind, you know I will welcome you back with open arms.”
“I appreciate that. Take care, Sam,” she told him, standing to leave.
Tabitha was careful to keep her rapidly rising midsection covered with the sweater she had draped over her arm. She had been alarmed to discover that shifter babies develop at an alarming rate of speed and that she would give birth in roughly three months’ time, which meant she had already started to develop a slight baby bump even though she was barely more than a couple weeks along. She said her goodbyes and cleaned out her desk before returning to her place.
“How’d it go?” Matt asked as she came in the door.
“It was fine. How did your errands go?” she asked.
“Very well, thank you. You ready to get started here?”
“I certainly am.”
“Then, let’s go,” he said, standing to take her hand in his and walk back to the door with her.
Opening the door, she found Janet standing there with a key in her hand, getting ready to insert it into the keyhole.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were back!” Janet told her. “I’ve been taking very good care of Siniy.”
“Yes, you have and she appreciates it very much,” Matt replied from behind Tabitha.
Tabitha smiled and winked at Janet, who looked around her to see Matt and then smiled happily back at her.
“Janet, this is Matt. We’re headed out and will be gone again for a few days, so please continue taking care of her until we get back,” Tabitha told her.
“I will!” Janet said happily. “Do you mind if I stay a while and play with her now?”
“Not at all,” Tabitha told her, letting her in as she and Matt stepped out the door. As an afterthought, she stepped back inside and whispered softly to her. “Do me a favor when you leave. Take that wedding dress with you and do whatever you’d like with it. I won’t be needing it anymore.”
“You got it,” Janet told her with a broad smile, watching them as they stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind them.
They made their way across town to the small chapel where they had made arrangements to be married. It was a simple ceremony with only them, the officiant and the witness he provided for them. It was a far cry from the elaborate wedding she had planned not so long ago and yet, it was more magical than she could have ever imagined.
“Well, Mrs. Helford? Are you ready to begin your new life?” he asked.
“Absolutely, Mr. Helford,” she said with a smile.
The two of them headed to the airport for a quick trip to Hawaii, where they spent several days just basking in the open air and splashing playfully along the beaches on their honeymoon. Tabitha had no regrets or doubts about their whirlwind romance. It felt like she was finally in the right place with the right person and that was worth more than any amount of time spent getting to know the wrong person might be. Matt felt right and that was all that mattered.
“Isn’t this place incredible?” she said, looking out the window of their bungalow later that evening.
“Wherever you are is beautiful,” he said, walking over to kiss her, his arms wrapping around her waist so that his hand was resting on her growing belly.
“How can you possibly be so sweet all the time?” she asked.
“I’m not sweet all the time,” he replied, brushing her hair to one side and kissing her neck.
“Yes, you are.”
“Yeah? How about this? Does this feel like sweetness?” he asked, biting her shoulder.
“Mmmm, no. You’re right. That’s not sweet at all. It’s incredibly harsh.”
“You like it when I’m harsh too.”
“I like a mixture of the two.”
“Yeah? So, you like it when I kiss you and then bite your breasts?”
“I more than like it. It feels like ecstasy to me.”
“Ecstasy, huh? Let’s just see how that sounds,” he said, reaching between her legs and slipping his fingers inside of her.
She moaned as he explored her wet folds, looking down at her with a wicked grin. She noted how his blue-green eyes seemed to get even darker when he was excited. It was a turn on, just like everything else about him. If there had ever been a perfect man, he was certainly that man. Every day she only found that she fell in love with him a bit more. Her thoughts were interrupted by her own passion, a gasp escaping her lips.
“That’s my girl. Let me feel you drip across my fingers,” he said, slipping in and out of her softly with two digits until she was nothing more than weak putty in his hands. It was the effect he always had on her, which was perfectly fine with her.
Stripping her of her clothes, he removed his own before laying her across the bed. Leaning over her, he held her wrists down with his hands, taking his time to kiss his way up one side of her neck and then down the other before letting go of her arms and moving downward to kiss her legs from toe to thigh. She drew in her breath as his lips found their way to her center, lapping softly at her pink folds as she tangled her fingers in his hair.
He took his time with her, touring her body slowly and gently. His kisses were soft and warm as he planted them on her thighs, teasing her clit and pussy as he passed from one leg to the other. Then he focused on her core, dipping his tongue inside of her, sucking at her clit and probing her with his tongue. Her hips arched upward towards him, aching for more of him as he teased her.
“Please, I want you. Make love to me, Matt,” she begged.
“Not yet. I want to make you squirm. I love watching what you let me do to you,” he breathed against her skin.
“I love the way you make me yours over and over, each and every time,” she moaned, barely able to get the words out as he stroked her clit with his thumb.
“You are mine. Just like I am yours,” he told her, stroking her pussy in all the right places until she couldn’t hold back. Her body contorted as her need built up inside her, her legs shaking wildly as she exploded against his tongue. He lapped at her swollen folds, the effects of her pregnancy already showing in subtle ways.
“Please, Matt. I want you so much. Please,” she begged.
Moving upward, Matt came face to face with her, looking deeply into her eyes. His fingers traced across her lips, her own scent floating behind them. It was intoxicating.
“I love you, Tabitha. You are everything in this world I have ever wanted,” he told her.
“I love you too,” she replied, feeling like the luckiest woman alive.
Burying his hands in her hair, he leaned in to kiss her, his mouth hungry against hers. She moaned as he entered her, his cock throbbing heavily against her aching folds. Wrapping her legs around his back, she met each thrust with reckless abandon, pulling him further and further into her with each stroke. Their bodies bounced back and forth against one another in the throes of passion.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, driving into
her until he couldn’t hold back anymore.
His body convulsed as he exploded inside of her before collapsing atop her, his cock still filling her as their passion faded into peaceful silence.
Later, Tabitha lay in the darkness with her head on Matt’s chest, listening to him breath quietly as he slept. Soon, they would return stateside to finish packing her things and have them shipped to their new home in the heart of India, where they would continue what was now their collective mission. Matt would work to protect the tigers as he always had and she would begin a series of freelance exposés that would show the world just how serious the dangers to both tigers and those who chose to stand by them really were. It was the natural order of things and she had nothing but high hopes for the future of both them, their unborn children, and the tigers.
Epilogue
“Matt, we have to go,” Tabitha said.
“Go where?” he asked, not really looking up from the map he had been studying.
Over the course of the past few months, the two of them had been steadfastly growing closer to exposing the network of rangers, local officials, and poachers that worked in tandem to kill off a great number of tigers.
“To the hospital,” she said.
“They’re coming?” Matt was up like a shot from his chair and by her side in a matter of seconds.
“Yes, tiger, to the hospital,” she replied softly.
“Okay, princess. Let’s go,” he said, scooping her up and carrying her out to the car as if she was an invalid even as she protested.
“You forgot my suitcase,” she said as he jumped behind the wheel.
“Right!” he said excitedly. “Don’t move!”
“Where am I going to go?” She laughed as he ran back into the house and emerged a few moments later with the bag she had packed for her visit to the hospital.
“Okay. Let’s go!” he said enthusiastically.
At 4:10 p.m. that afternoon, two seemingly normal boys were born to Mr. and Mrs. Matt Helford. The history books would not know their names, but they would be legends among a certain segment of the population that knew them to be great leaders. Their parents would be known as pioneers in the push to protect tigers around the world and long after they were gone, their name would be carried throughout forests and along river beds where it was revered as the mark of a friend and savior.
THE END
Highlander Romance Bonus
Time of the Werebears
“And to the left you'll see a portrait of Lord Lachlan, who ruled with an iron fist. He had a deep intolerance for Highland rebels and pushed for their total annihilation. In the display case to your right is his sword, which shed the blood of countless Highland men, women, and even children, though some were taken in to be re-cultured in the ways of the crown.”
Studying the blade sent a shiver down Sadie McNeil's spine. She was enjoying the tour of her family's castle, and although her heritage trip had just begun, she couldn't wait to see what might happen next. She hoped to learn about her distant family's history as much as possible. The guide spoke on about Lord Lachlan, painting a vivid image of the tyrant in her mind. She could imagine the man's stern face in battle, his eyes narrow and ready to spill the blood of anybody who dared defy him. A series of his portraits lined the walls, and by the time they reached the end of the hallway, she was sure she wouldn't have liked him.
Suddenly, she thought she heard somebody yelling her name. A faraway echo made her turn, her heart thudding rapidly. Where had it come from? Nobody here knew her; she had traveled alone. She looked around the group; nobody else seemed to have heard it.
“Sadie!” it called again. She heard it clearly this time, a man's voice; urgent and afraid. She broke away from the group, following the sound of her name. Everybody else was engrossed in Lord Lachlan's sword. She looked around for the man who seemed to know who she was. She walked slowly, staying close to the wall where the paintings hung proudly in a line. Suddenly, the man's voice seemed to be right in her ear, an intimate breathiness that brought a shiver down her spine. She turned to her right and, to her surprise, found herself gazing right into her own face. At first she thought she had encountered a mirror, but quickly noted the frame, and the other people surrounding her. Somehow, her likeness had been captured in the middle of an ancient painting.
She backed away as if the portrait was on fire, clutching at her heart, and then stared again. That was her all right, right down to the mole on her left cheek, and the fiery red curls that she pulled back into a braid. But how could it be? Surely it was just some ancient ancestor. Still, the resemblance was uncanny. She wondered if her mother had ever noticed.
Sadie studied the painting more closely, holding back the urge to touch it. The woman, who looked identical to Sadie, was standing next to the fierce Lord Lachlan. The tour guide caught up with her and began telling of the painting's history.
“Here we see Lord Lachlan with his wife, just before the execution of a particularly meddlesome Highland rebel. You see, he is holding the sword from the display case. Lord Lachlan liked to dispose of the rebels himself, told his troops to keep them alive until he dealt with them personally.”
The group moved away from the painting, but Sadie stayed rooted in one spot. She was suddenly overpowered by an intense nausea, and she ran out of the room, desperate to get away from the image of the terrible man and her doppelganger, standing mournfully beside him.
She raced down the hallway, turning a corner and pausing to catch her breath. She had been seized by a momentary panic, but if she could just distract herself, maybe she would feel better. Her eyes wandered to the painting in front of her – a group of muscular men scowling and attacking three large bears head-on. The absurdity of the image made her burst out in laughter. The sound of her own voice comforted her, and she took a deep breath. It was reasonable to be uncomfortable; the painting in the other room probably didn't actually look that much like her. She had just been under a lot of stress lately with the divorce looming over her head. Most people wouldn't be holding up anywhere near as well as she was under the same circumstances. Her entire life had just been turned upside down.
She was filled with anger as memories of her soon-to-be ex-husband's infidelity penetrated her. She had trusted him more than she had trusted anybody. Maybe that was because he was a solid, reliable type, whose wandering eye had been carefully concealed behind his thick glasses and gentle smile. He hadn't been particularly exciting. In fact, the most her heart had raced for him was in the anger after discovering that he had been cheating on her with any woman who pitied him enough to sleep with him. He had made her out to be some sort of insufferable hag, never having time for him because she was so busy with her own career.
“You know those types of women,” he would have said to his conquests. Independent. The kinds of women who said they didn't want kids and meant it, or who made sure they had their own bank accounts to rely on. Terrible wives and mothers, the lot of them, according to common knowledge. He had been distressed when she asked him to wait to start a family until she was more settled into her career and held it over her head any chance she got. The most unfair part about it was that, yes, she did want kids. She just wanted to wait to feel more settled and fulfilled first. But he had taken it and ran as a reason to resent her. He certainly felt justified in destroying her trust and their marriage. Stupid Alfred. Good riddance to him anyway.
But she was in Scotland to forget about all of that. She wandered absently into the first doorway she saw. She peered into the dim room, realizing that it probably wasn't scheduled to be on any part of the tour. In fact, she was surprised the door wasn't locked. Inside, the haggard green curtains were drawn, letting only small streams of sunlight in to illuminate the old antiques strewn recklessly about, as if somebody had been rummaging through it, discarding what they didn't deem useful. Broken glass cracked under her feet as she peered onto tables and shelves, fingering old relics of the past that were within arm's re
ach and not partitioned away from her through a glass box.
She suddenly saw an intriguing glimmer of gold, glinting tantalizingly from beneath a fallen stack of old musty papers. She pushed the papers gently away and lifted a primitive-looking necklace from the rickety wooden table. Her eyes roamed the intricate but simple designs carved into the gold. She looked around the room, making sure she was alone before draping the long chain over her delicate neck.
As soon as the pendant touched her breast, she crumpled to the ground, and the world went black.
Chapter 2
She was falling, swirling. She felt her body being lifted and contorted in ways she had never before imagined it could move. Alfred, the divorce, jetlag, a lifetime's worth of difficulties. She seemed to re-live it all within the darkness of the portal. By the time it was done, she was filled with peace, but she was so exhausted that she felt herself being pulled into the depths of a powerful, rejuvenating sleep.
But that didn't last long. A loud, muffled call from the hallway roused her from her slumber, and she looked up with a start. Her eyes narrowed in confusion. She was in the same room, but everything was different. The curtains were no longer tattered; they were crisp and beautiful, letting in a cheerful ray of golden sunlight. None of the old antiques were scattered about. She recognized some of them, sitting in perfect condition, like new, on a handsomely carved shelf. She sat up in confusion, and her eyes widened. Hanging in front of her was an elegant wedding dress.
