Amethyst Destiny

by Pamela Montgomerie

An unpleasant sensation prickled her skin.

  “The chalice,” Rourke murmured, his gaze swinging to her with concern.

  Talon nodded. “My thanks.” He moved to his own horse and mounted.

  “Are you sure you won’t take a couple of my kinsmen?” Rourke asked.

  “My thanks, but no.” The old charmer’s smile spread across Talon’s face. “My methods havena failed me yet.” He was speaking of his ring, Julia knew.

  Rourke didn’t look convinced, but nodded.

  With a backward wave, they said good-bye to the Viscount and Viscountess Kinross and headed for Loch Laggan.

  As they started across the open moor, Julia looked back at Picktillum Castle and wondered if she was making a mistake by leaving the one place she had friends, the one place she was safe. The one place from where she was certain she could get home.

  Instead, she rode into the unknown.

  But as her gaze met Talon’s and something infinitely warm, infinitely deep passed between them, she knew those other reasons paled in comparison to the main one. With a certainty born of all the days she’d spent alone, she knew she simply wasn’t ready to leave the man with whom she’d fallen in love.

  SIXTEEN

  Within three hours of leaving Picktillum, the wind picked up, the temperature dropped, and the rain started. Julia began to have serious second thoughts about this journey, wondering if she’d made a mistake in coming with Talon. By the time they found a room and stopped for the night, she was sure of it.

  Not only was she cold and wet, but she was hugely out of sorts. She’d been in such a good mood as they’d prepared to ride out from Picktillum. But her mood had begun to deteriorate almost at once and hadn’t gotten any better all day. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was PMSing, but she’d finished her period only a few days before the wedding, thank God. What in the hell would she do about her period here? Although, maybe she was PMSing. How did she know the time traveling hadn’t screwed up her cycle, too?

  Then again, they’d done the deed last night with no protection whatsoever. For all she knew, she could be pregnant.

  Hell. That’s all she needed.

  At least she knew that wasn’t the cause of her bitchiness. Even if she were pregnant, it was way too soon for her body to be reacting to it.

  Talon ushered her into the room he’d paid for in the hovel-sized farmhouse in the middle of godforsaken nowhere. He pressed against her, his hand at her back.

  “In ye go, lass.”

  “I’m in. Jeez, Talon, it’s the size of a closet.” A low-slung, tiny bed sat against the far wall—a wall she could practically reach out and touch from the doorway. A tiny hearth sat in the corner beside an even smaller shuttered window. Tucked behind the door was a washstand. And that was it.

  Julia slid toward the hearth to allow Talon room to enter.

  He closed the door behind him and shrugged. “’ Tis this or sleep in the rain.”

  Julia scowled. “And they don’t even have a bathtub?” She’d made a point of asking while Talon paid for the room.

  “They’ve a burn.”

  “A creek. A freeze-your-ass-off, fishy-smelling creek.”

  Talon gave her a hard look, then pulled the cloak over his head and laid it on top of the washstand. “Take off yer wet garments, Julia,” he said coolly, clearly not enjoying her foul mood any more than she was.

  Which only annoyed her more.

  “Can you at least get us some food? I’m starving.”

  “Aye.” Without a backward glance, he left her.

  With a growl of frustration, she pulled off her soaking-wet cloak and laid it on top of his. They would still be soaked in the morning this way, but there was nowhere to hang anything up. Not in this mouse hole.

  She took a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly. The tension inside her started to unwind a bit and she squatted in front of the small hearth, seeking whatever warmth it had to provide.

  Coming with Talon had seemed like such a good idea at the time. One night in his arms and she’d forgotten all about the horses and the cold rain and the miserable sleeping arrangements.

  How were they ever going to sleep in here? There wasn’t room for two people to stretch out even if they removed all the furniture.

  But she sighed, no longer feeling like hitting someone over it. This, too, shall pass. Eventually. Not until mid-afternoon had she thought to ask Talon how long a trip she’d signed up for. Five days, he’d told her. Each way.

  Good grief.

  Talon pushed back through the door, two bowls in his hands and a small loaf of bread under his arm.

  Her skin prickled with annoyance, though what she was annoyed about, she couldn’t begin to guess. It was as if the sight of him was beginning to set her off.

  Great.

  It was going to be a damned long ten days.

  They ate the tasteless gruel perched on the edge of the bed, in silence, her annoyance growing for no discernible reason. If she got her period, she was going to be royally pissed.

  “That was the worst meal I’ve ever eaten.” She ground her teeth together, but the anger wouldn’t be contained. “Where in the hell are we supposed to sleep, anyway?”

  “Ye’ll take the bed and ye’ll not worry about me.”

  “You’re just going to play martyr?”

  “Would ye rather take the floor?”

  “You can’t sleep on the floor.” Her hand swept out, nearly hitting him. “There isn’t enough of it.”

  Talon took the empty bowl from her fingers and set the pair of them atop the cloaks on the washstand. Then he turned to her. “What ails ye, Julia?”

  She scowled as she looked away. “I shouldn’t have come. I wish I hadn’t come.”

  Talon sighed. “I’ve no time to take ye back. I vowed to have the chalice to Loch Laggan in a fortnight. We’ll barely make it if we press on. I’ll lose two days if I return ye to Picktillum first.”

  “Why is it so damned important to deliver that thing on time?”

  “Would ye have me break my vow?” He looked at her intently. “Would you break you own?”

  She gave him a baleful stare, then looked away. “No. If I make a commitment, I move heaven and earth to meet it.”

  “Aye.”

  “What if I stay here, God forbid? Or find my own way back?”

  “Have ye already forgotten what can happen to a lass? Even a lass with a man at her side. Ye’ll not travel alone, Julia. I’ll not allow it. Ye’ll be staying with me.”

  She glared at him. “Who in the hell do you think you are ... ?”

  He grabbed her shoulders and hauled her against him, kissing her, stealing the words from her mouth. She stiffened, his high-handedness only exacerbating her already foul mood, but at the taste of his mouth, desire rushed through her, sweeping away the frustration that had built within her during the miserable day.

  With deft hands, he divested them of their damp clothes, setting atop the pile the chalice that had been tied to his belt all day. Then he took her into his arms, his body heat stealing the last of her chill. The restlessness that had plagued her all day took another form, turning her needy and impatient. She pressed her hips against him, against the thick, hard erection trapped between their bodies.

  “I want you, Talon,” she said fiercely against his mouth.

  “Aye, Julia-lass. And ye’ll have me.”

  Their bodies smelled rain-damp and earthy, but she found she didn’t mind the smell at all. Talon’s hands caressed her back, one sliding into her hair, the other diving lower to cup her rear. He pulled her hard against him, rubbing himself against her stomach, letting her feel how badly he wanted her.

  Heat gathered low in her body. Moisture dampened her upper thighs.

  “Talon, I need you.”

  He pressed her down onto the bed, but instead of following her down as she’d expected, as she wanted, he knelt on the floor beside her and took her breast into his mouth. She
felt his hand slide between her legs, pulling her knee outward to open her for him. Then his fingers were playing in her wetness, burying themselves inside her body.

  She arched into his intimate touch, lifting her hips to deepen the penetration as she buried her fingers in his hair. Her body was on fire, desperate for his touch, desperate to be filled.

  All day, she’d done nothing but snap at him and complain, yet he touched her with hunger and tender care.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch today.” She gasped as his fingers fluttered inside her. “Such a shrew.”

  His mouth released her breast. “Wheesht, lass,” he said softly. “’ Twas a trying day.” He licked her nipple, then lifted his face to look down into her own. His thumb brushed her clitoris, making her jerk and moan as he watched her. A devilishly satisfied smile lit his eyes and lifted his mouth, making one of his dimples peep. “And ye’ll forget the day now. Ye’ll forget all but me.”

  He lowered his face to hers and kissed her thoroughly, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth as his fingers continued to play. The tension between her legs built, her hips grinding restlessly against his hand, seeking the release he was driving her toward.

  Without warning, he pulled his hand away and covered her body with his.

  “I want ye, Julia-lass.” His blue-eyed gaze bore into hers, holding her captive as he slowly slid inside her, filling her. Making them one.

  Over and over, he thrust into her as she lifted her hips to meet him. All the emotion she felt for him welled up, pressing against the inner walls of her heart until she thought it would burst.

  “I love you,” she said softly against his shoulder. The release broke over her and she cried out with pleasure, arching into him, pressing him deeper.

  Moments later, she felt his body tense as he pressed harder, thrust faster, then shuddered, a low sound of deep satisfaction rumbling from his throat. He’d found his release, but instead of holding her as he had last night, he pushed off her and reached for his pants.

  Julia watched in confusion as he turned his back to her and pulled them on, then tied the chalice at his belt, as it had been all day, and reached for his shirt.

  “What are you doing?”

  He pulled the shirt over his head and down over the chalice. “I’ll be back. Sleep.” Without another word, without meeting her gaze, he left.

  She stretched languorously, her body feeling sated and wonderful, even as she glanced at the closed door. Was something wrong? Had he heard something that had spurred him to investigate?

  She sat up slowly, a vague disquiet niggling her brain. Everything had been normal between them, perfect, until he’d come. And bolted.

  Right after ...

  Oh, no.

  Right after she’d told him she loved him. Was that why he’d left like that? Surely not. He knew she didn’t mean to stay here. It wasn’t like she was going to try to trap him into marriage or anything.

  But she was suddenly sure it was those three words that had sent him running.

  A sick feeling curled in her stomach, a deep and painful hurt. Because clearly he didn’t feel the same.

  Damn him.

  Never before had she told someone she loved him. Her father hadn’t wanted the words and no one else had ever mattered. Why couldn’t Talon have pretended? Or just said thank you or something.

  Why had he had to make it so blasted obvious he hadn’t wanted to hear the words?

  She rose and pulled on her shift. It didn’t matter whether he loved her back, dammit.

  But the pressure in her chest intensified until she could barely breathe around it.

  Nine more days of this hell, then she’d be back at Picktillum. She’d be going home.

  Then maybe this miserable feeling would finally go away.

  Talon stood in the dark, the cool wind blowing his hair back from his face, doing nothing to ease the turmoil inside him. His head pounded, his belly ached. His ribs felt as sore as if he’d been pinned beneath a horse.

  She loved him.

  And he was naught but a lie.

  His body still thrilled with the aftereffects of their lovemaking, a joining sweeter even than last night’s. Sweeter than any he’d ever known, for it had been more than merely a coming together of two bodies. A melding of person, of spirit. Of being.

  He felt changed. Reborn. As if, for a few bright moments, he’d become the man she wanted him to be.

  For a brief few moments, his heart had sung, his spirits had soared before crashing to the dirt like a bird with a damaged wing. Battered. Splintered.

  The man she thought she loved didn’t exist.

  He clenched his fists at his sides and arched his back, pulling the damp night air into his lungs and exhaling hard, as if he could free himself from the confusion within him.

  In a handful of days, she’d upended his world.

  He should have left her at Picktillum, where she’d have been safe. Where he wouldn’t have had to worry that every traveler who saw her would try to steal her from him as the brigands had done two days ago, or that at any moment she’d lose her riding skill and tumble beneath the deadly hooves of her horse. Or that with every mile she was becoming more necessary to him.

  Even her ill-temper and sharp tongue this day had done nothing to quell the ache inside him at the thought of saying farewell to her once and for all. At the thought of never again kissing her sweet lips or sliding deep inside her body.

  He strode out into the yard feeling the need to escape these feelings that wove through him, snaring him in emotions he didn’t want to feel. An aching need to hold and protect. To cherish and never let go.

  Emotions that had no place in his heart or mind. Nor in this gypsy-like existence of his.

  For most of his life he’d been on his own, with no one to look out for but himself. He liked it that way. He was better on his own. Without a lass to worry over. Without this damnable ache in his chest, this constant fear that next time danger closed around her, he wouldn’t be in time to save her.

  Aye, he should have left her behind where she was safe, but there was little help for it now. He hadn’t the time to take her back.

  She would remain at his side another handful of days until he delivered the chalice, then he would see her safely back to Picktillum and leave her with the Viscount and Viscountess Kinross. He’d long ago learned to take a quick measure of a man and he trusted Kinross to fulfill his promise to call Hegarty to send her home.

  In fewer than a dozen days, she would be out of his life.

  A relief.

  Even if the thought of never seeing her again felt as if his heart were being ripped from his chest.

  Julia gripped the reins with one hand as her palm slid across her chest, uselessly trying to ease her miserable, and growing, discomfort. Though the day had dawned clear, her clothes were still damp from yesterday’s rain, and had turned painfully itchy. If Talon had tried to get them a change of clothes, he hadn’t said. And the ring had clearly ignored him.

  And if that weren’t enough, emotionally she felt beaten. Bruised.

  She’d told him she loved him and he’d run.

  The jackass.

  For nearly an hour, they’d ridden without speaking this morning, but she was tired of the quiet. Tired of trying to give him some space and privacy with his thoughts.

  She was tired of hurting in silence.

  “Forget I said the L-word last night, Braveheart.” She tried to sound offhanded and casual, but her voice sounded tight. Angry. Well, hell. She was angry. “It didn’t mean anything. It just came out in the heat of the moment. My mistake.”

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t react at all, as if he hadn’t even heard her.

  She was in no mood for this shit. If she was going to try to smooth things over, he was going to help. “Why does the L-word bother you so much, anyway? It’s not like you’re in any danger of getting trapped into marriage with me.”

  He eyed her with impatien
ce. “Must we discuss this?”

  “Yes. Indeed, we must. Find the words for your emotions and start talking, dude. It’s not like we have anything else to do.”

  Talon turned away, but his frustration was palpable, which gave her hope he was feeling the pressure to come up with something. Anything.

  His hand shot out in a wide, impatient arc. “Ye’ve known me a handful of days,” he snapped. “’ Tis foolishness to believe ye love me.”

  Okay, she’d probably asked for that. “Thanks so much for calling me a fool.”

  “I didna call ye a fool.”

  “Close enough.”

  “’ Twasn’t love ye were feeling, but pleasure. Many lasses make that mistake.”

  Julia snorted. “Right. Silly me. I keep forgetting my heart isn’t located between my legs.”

  “’ Tis a shrewish tongue ye have today, lass,” he said quietly.

  She opened her mouth to offer some cutting retort, but he was right. He didn’t deserve this. Any of it. She wasn’t usually like this. Yes, she could be a first-class bitch when she wanted to be, but she didn’t want to be with him. She wanted to be laughing and smiling and making love every time they gave the horses a rest.

  Instead, her skin was crawling as if she’d been rolling in an anthill and it was driving her nuts!

  “I know I’ve turned into a shrew, Talon. God, I know. And I don’t know why. It’s not your fault. I mean, I hate that you ran off when I told you I loved you, but ...” She shook her head. “Tell me this. If I’d known you for six months when I said the words, would you have believed me?”

  This time he simply didn’t answer. Which was an answer in and of itself.

  “You wouldn’t, would you?” She watched that hard profile. “Why not? I mean, I know I’m the last person who should be talking about love. I wouldn’t recognize it if it bit me, which is why I know I was just caught up in the moment. But I still want to know why you don’t think I could ever love you.”

  She frowned, an ugly thought worming its way into her scattered and tumbled mind. Talon saw her a little too clearly.

  “Have you seen into my heart? Is that it? Is it as barren as I think it is?”