By ‘me and mine’ Niall knew he meant the Next Generation excluding Logan, of course. Grant intended to seek out the help from his lot and their Broun witches.
Grant’s eyes turned to Nicole and he said remarkably surprising words. “You will stay here until the Celtic god Fionn Mac Cumhail says ‘tis safe to leave.” He gave her a knowing look. “’Twill likely be when my Viking ancestors come to help you.”
Chapter Eight
NICOLE WATCHED AS Grant vanished into thin air and almost wished she could do the same. Sure, she was tough. She had learned to wear a brave face a long time ago. But this? This was beyond anything she had grown a thick skin for.
As if he sensed her distress, Darach wrapped an arm around her shoulders and worked at a grin. “Not quite what you thought it’d be, now is it?”
“Hell, no,” she murmured and couldn’t even manage a grin. “If I had known all this back in New Hampshire, I would’ve called a taxi and booked it.”
“Och, nay.” He squeezed her shoulders. “Had you known all this, Niall would’ve never had the chance to drag you here. You would’ve been here already.”
Was that true? She would like to think so but damned if she knew. Then again, now that she had met little Robert the Bruce, she knew he was right. There would have been no need for Niall to drag her.
Niall.
Just when she started to soften toward him, he got her riled up all over again. She might understand what Grant told her in regards to Niall, but for whatever reason, it didn’t lessen her aggravation. The target of her sour thoughts now stood in front of them, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl in place as his eyes flickered between her and Darach.
“Come, Darach,” Logan said, evidently sensing a renewed battle on the horizon. “Let’s go check on the wee King and make sure there’s game roasting.”
Darach cocked a brow at her. “Are you well enough, then?”
Niall’s eyes narrowed on Darach. “She’s well enough, Cousin. Off with ye now, aye?”
“Are you, Nicole?” Darach repeated, not intimidated in the least by Niall.
If Darach did one thing for her, he made her feel like her twenty-first century self again. A strong woman that could handle life. So she gave him the best grin she could muster. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”
Darach kissed her temple then winked at Niall. “I best let the MacLomain have his way then.”
“He’s not having his way with anyone,” she shot, frowning.
“Aye, then.” Darach shook his head as he left with Logan.
Bracing her hands on the branch, she narrowed her eyes at Niall. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve got some sorta claim on me,” she said. “Because you don’t.”
“Nor do I want one.”
“Yet you said just last night you were interested in me.”
“I said I was curious.”
“Same thing.”
He shrugged. “I changed my mind.”
She shrugged. “You would.”
“Would you rather I didn’t?”
“Hell, no.” She started to head after Darach and Logan, but Niall grabbed her wrist and pulled her in another direction.
“Excuse me,” she started but he nodded at a small rock ledge.
“Climb,” he said as he grabbed a satchel.
She frowned. “No.”
“Just go. I need to head that way and I willnae let you out of my sight.”
Trying to stall him, she nodded at the horse. “What about Vika?”
“Logan summoned grass and I made sure there’s water,” he replied. “She will be fine.”
Nicole navigated around him and patted Vika. The horse ignored her and chomped on grass.
“Come, Nicole or I’ll throw you over my shoulder again.”
“Or I could follow the crowd,” she pointed out.
Niall made a gesture at the ledge. “Come.”
Though tempted to be defiant, she knew darn well he had become a strange sort of safety net in this absurd reality she'd been thrust into. “Fine.”
Navigating the rock easily enough, she climbed up onto a ledge. It was long and broad. An area that didn’t quite reach the top of the mountain. Multiple rock formations arced and sliced toward the sky around them.
“This is where the Baby Oak originally grew,” he said. When she looked at him, he continued. “The oak that’s now outside MacLomain Castle.”
“Really?” She looked around in awe.
“Aye.” He pulled her until they entered a small cave much different than the one they had just been in. A piece of the mountain cut away from the rest. Open at the top, it hosted a free-standing wall with an exit and entrance. Water cascaded down the inner wall, shimmering in the orange rays of a dying sun.
“Whoa,” she whispered. This place almost looked man-made. Like one of those set-ups the rich and famous paid big bucks to have created outside of their homes.
“There’s a pond at the top of this mountain that feeds into a waterfall on the other side.” He nodded at the sheet of water running down the rock. “This is run-off.”
“That makes no sense.” She ran her hand through the cold water. “What feeds the pond at the top?”
“I dinnae know.” Niall shrugged and pulled off his tunic. “Nothing about this mountain has ever made sense, including how the Mother Oak ended up here.”
“Maybe just a lot of rain then?” she asked, trying to figure out the magical world she had been dumped into. Nicole kept her eyes off his impressive body and on the mystical cave.
“It rains a lot in Scotland but not that much.” There was no wink to go along with him tossing aside his plaid. Instead, she got the feeling that he remained as irritated with her as she was with him.
“So the waterfall just keeps on falling,” she murmured, her traitorous eyes drifting back to him as he scooped water over his head. God, he was a good looking man. So, so, much man. She took in his broad shoulders. The way they tapered down to slim hips and, she cleared her throat, there was that ass again. So firm she bet it felt like steel.
“Aye,” he said, before scooping some water into his mouth and turning.
His eyes remained closed as he ducked his head back beneath the water then ran his hands through his hair. Nicole inhaled sharply, leaned back against the wall and eyed him with avid appreciation. So many long muscles and in all the right places.
Then there was the main muscle.
Even flaccid, he had her licking her lips.
“But mayhap you’re not so interested in the waterfall after all,” he murmured.
Their eyes locked.
“I am,” she assured because it seemed like the right response. The only response. “Nothing more.”
“Then dinnae worry over the mystical mountain, lass.” A slow grin came to his lips. “Bathe. You might not get another chance anytime soon.”
“Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe after you leave.”
Where did her anger with him go? Because she needed it back. She needed that wall between her and everything that might happen. No, everything that was happening. So she picked a fight. “Besides, you’d be the last one I’d get naked for right now.”
“Who would you get naked for then?”
He didn’t seem all that aggravated anymore either. Probably because he had caught her checking him out.
“I dunno.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe Darach.”
Instead of getting jealous, he chuckled and turned back to the water, his brogue thickening. “Ye dinnae desire the Hamilton so stop yer games.”
“You seemed to think so down at the oak,” she shot back, frustrated for no good reason.
“Och, nay.” Niall kept splashing water over himself. “’Twas Darach’s desire for you that got me going.”
Really?
“There’s nothing between us,” she said without thinking.
“There�
��s something,” he murmured.
Maybe she should take advantage of bathing while she could. After all there was no deodorant in the thirteenth century. Which made her wonder as she pulled off her shirt. “How do you guys not stink without modern day stuff?”
“Modern day stuff?”
“Yeah, like deodorant.” She wrinkled her nose and yanked off her boots. “You should reek considering how active you are.” When his eyes drifted to her, she shrugged. “Seriously, you guys are slinging blades all the time, right?”
“We might not be of the twenty-first century, but we know how to bathe, lass.” His eyes made a slow roam over her as she worked at pulling off her pants. She might have stripped for a living for a few years, but for some reason his steady gaze made her feel like a novice. So she glared. “Eyes off me, Brute. This isn’t for you.”
“Bloody hell right. The Devil’s own,” he murmured and resumed splashing water over his face.
“What’d you say?” she retaliated, more than content to be arguing with him as she sauntered over and put her hand against the stream of water before pulling it back. Damn cold.
“I can warm it for you.”
Nicole hitched her jaw and eyed him…before her gaze dropped. Oh, hell, he was getting aroused. “I can handle cold water.”
Could she ever. Most of her childhood was made up of it. At least in the foster homes she resided in. They might have received money from the government, but they didn’t always use it for the utility bills.
“Aye, I dinnae doubt you can handle the cold water.” He placed his hand against the wall. Water ran over it as he said, “From this water might there heed, a bit of warmth for a lass in need. Inde aquarum non exaudiam aliquantulus puella indiget Flamma.”
Nicole did her best to show no response when the water warmed. Like a soothing bath sort of warm. She was a grown adult and well past her childhood. She had warm enough water in her little apartment in Southie. But this…well this was luxury.
A luxury she fully intended to take advantage of.
“Thanks,” she said, halfway meaning it as she pressed up against the waterfall. It felt so good as it poured over her body. As much as it could considering it wasn’t gushing water. She leaned her head back, closed her eyes and smiled.
This felt awesome.
Magic at its finest.
Who cared if it was Niall’s magic.
Niall.
When her eyes shot open, he was no longer there.
She spun. There he was. A foot away if that. Watching her. When he spoke his voice was low and husky, his brogue so thick she could barely understand him. But she understood the look in his eyes. The blatant need. One that said far more than his eager arousal.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew what was happening. They were both beyond saddened and stressed over losing Rònan. They needed a diversion. Release. An escape from all the tension.
“Do ye desire another?” he said. His eyes were flaring not blue but almost black with passion.
A dark, eager need.
It was strange and frightening…but arousing.
To answer one way meant that he would step away. Because he would. That was just who he was. To answer another way would invite something else altogether. Something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
But something she wanted.
Craved.
Her nipples tightened and she swallowed as their eyes held. Answer him, Nicole. Give him what he wants. Yet something flared in her. She wasn’t good at giving men what they wanted.
Still, she whispered, “I don’t desire another at the moment.” And because she refused to let him think he had her all figured out. “Not even Darach.”
Niall cupped her chin firmly and made sure her gaze stayed with his. “Then ye desire me?”
Her lips throbbed and she shook her head. Letting Niall know she wanted him was a bad idea. Yet at some point she went from shaking her head to nodding.
The stream of water behind her thinned as he came closer but not too close. His eyes went blue. A dark blue made of sex and sin and desire you almost wished you didn’t want. His thick lashes lowered and tried to hide his true intentions. “Tell me, Nicole.”
She forgot what she was thinking.
She forgot how she was supposed to respond.
“I don’t desire you,” she whispered, desperate to break free from a spell she secretly hoped was inescapable.
“You lie.” Niall pressed the pad of his thumb against her lower lip and dragged it down as he came so close that there were a scant few inches between them. When he spoke, it was barely a whisper. “I want ye something fierce, lass.” His finger dragged off her lip. “Here.” Then it scaled her cheekbone, the touch almost rough. “Right now.”
“No,” she moaned as his lips whispered over hers.
“Yes,” she groaned as they trailed down her neck.
“Aye or nay,” he murmured, falling to his knees.
“Oh, shit,” she whispered as he grabbed her hipbones, used his elbows to spread her legs then blew her mind.
“Hell, hell, oh, hell,” she whimpered, her head falling back against the rock. Warm water kept pouring thinly behind her as she tried to focus.
She groaned again, grateful he held her up as he did things with his mouth that would put most men to shame. Already, far too many muscles were loosening and tightening and—she bit her lower lip hard—he was rocking her world far too quickly.
Too much.
Too fast.
Wrapping her hand into his hair, she had no choice but to give in.
“Niall!” she cried.
An orgasm ripped through her so sharply, even the sound of wind whistling through the cave and the waterfall faded away. He seized her hips tighter and licked his way up her torso, murmuring, “No Darach or anyone else.” He whipped her around so quickly she barely had time to put her hands against the wall as his whisper came close to her ear. “Just me.”
Burning up, she almost wanted the water cold again. So much fire. Too many loose, weak limbs. But only warm water poured past her as his heated flesh pressed against hers. His lips remained close to her ear.
“Tell me what ye want, because I’ll not take it from ye.” One strong hand spanned her stomach and the other clamped over her hand braced against the wall. His arousal pressed against her backside, as determined as his words. “Tell me.”
What did she want? Him? Yes. But more. Somehow more.
“Niall,” she whispered.
“Nicole,” he whispered back, voice strained. “Gods, lass.”
Then he turned her head just enough that his lips closed over hers. Desperate, needing something far beyond the remnants of the climax still quivering through her, she kissed him. It wasn’t just a meeting of the lips, but an explosion as their tongues swung together.
Seeking.
Challenging.
Desperate.
She knew what was coming. She knew what he asked of her. But when she widened her legs just enough and he pressed forward, she whimpered into his mouth. Not because it was bad but because it felt so damn good.
Too good.
He continued kissing her as he eased into her. It was profound. Different. A mutual gasping for breath as they inch by inch moved closer. Became one. Or so it almost felt as their lips sought, their tongues tangled and their breath mingled. Unrelenting, his thrusts remained gentle until he filled her completely. All the while, he kissed her, tasted her, made her feel wanted in a way she had never experienced before.
When their lips separated, it was only so that he could murmur, “Nicole,” against the corner of her lips. Breath harsh, she seized the side of his head with one hand and pressed her cheek to his. This was a moment she could relive again and again. One that made her feel cherished. Beautiful. Fulfilled?
“Och,” he murmured as if he could hear her thoughts. “Ye are so bloody beautiful in ways ye dinnae ken.”
Though tempted to ask if he wa
s inside her head, she was far too focused on him being inside her body. And that feeling had her cupping the back of his neck when she sensed he would shift away.
“No,” she whispered, too much pleasure already shooting through her. “Stay.”
Niall said nothing but dropped his head beside hers, words clearly a struggle. “Aye, lass.”
There was no hesitation. Just impatient need when he braced her hands against the wall and moved. Not away. Not at all. Only closer. When he started thrusting, she didn’t recognize the sounds coming from her mouth.
Animalistic at first.
Then mewling.
Then something else altogether.
Something made of not only her voice but his.
Water ran over her arms, breasts and torso, warming and caressing her skin.
“So bloody good,” he groaned before he muttered, “Closer.”
The word was barely out of his mouth before he spun her, lifted her and thrust inside her once more. His eyes were savage with lust as her back met the wall and water sluiced over her shoulders, then down her body. Smoothed by centuries of water, the rock wasn’t rough as his thrusts increased.
Arms and legs wrapped around him, she gasped against the side of his neck as he moved. Something wild had been unleashed in them. Something that made her dig her heels into his ass and her nails into his back. She even nipped his damp skin she was so desperate.
Crazed.
The scathing passion between them grew so intense that it almost felt like lustful anger. A sexual challenge. Near raving lunacy. Explosive energy.
“Ye’ll not bring me down with a pinch this time,” he ground out as his thrusts only intensified.
“Maybe not with a pinch,” she panted.
About the last thing she wanted him to do was stop but she was unable to cease clawing at him. Arousal like this brought out a whole new beast in her. One she was meeting for the first time. It seemed he was meeting a whole new monster too as a deep rumble started in his chest.
Then there were growls.
Hers.
His.
Water heated. Steam rose. Fog drifted.
Furious passion screamed up and staggered cries of pleasure mixed with flat out cursing. Almost at the exact moment her body let go, he squeezed her backside, thrust deep and released a strangled roar.
Honor of a Scottish Warrior Page 12
