Romantic notions are not what I need, at this point in time.
She led Balfour in the direction Falcon had disappeared, feeling her way along the side of the house, cabin, hovel, or whatever. A hand nudged her shoulder, and she stopped dead.
“ ‘Tis me, lass. I shall care for Balfour.”
“Thanks. I'll check out the accommodations.”
“Nay. Ye shall wait for me. I have a weapon, remember?”
She fingered the small sgian dubh in her pocket. Still protected inside its leather sheath, she had discovered it beside Dorcas’ small bed, in her vendor tent, when she had changed out of her slashed dress. She had no idea the old witch carried such a small weapon. That she had left it behind, probably for her, was a coincidence she couldn't refute. After her run-in with Sinclair, she didn't want to be caught without a weapon.
“Fine.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited. He’s right, and doesn’t that beat all?
She always thought she could take care of herself. That was before she met the older Sinclair. She’d never met a nastier, more vindictive man, and she couldn't wait for him to return to his own time.
Sensing Gavin brush past her, she hurried to follow in his wake. With very little light coming from the cloudy sky, his dark silhouette was formidable. If she met him in a dark alley, she would give him whatever he wanted.
Gavin stopped short.
Jenny slammed into his back. Had he read her thoughts? Curses. Backing away, she steadied herself by slapping a palm against the clapboards.
“Why did you stop?”
Gavin reached behind him, drew her against his side, and pressed a hand over her mouth. Terror seized her. The memory of the older Sinclair grabbing her in a similar manner rose, and she struggled.
He whispered a few words of Gaelic in her ear, and the fear subsided. This was Gavin, and if he was hushing her, it meant he was protecting her. She nodded into his palm and he removed his hand. She immediately missed it.
What’s up with that?
CHAPTER 22
Gavin glanced at Jenny, barely visible in the low light. She crouched, and had again laid her hand against the cottage. He nodded his approval, then slowly walked away. Something clattered above, like an animal scurrying across the roof. Her breath caught and a tiny gasp escaped, and he turned to warn her, but she had covered her mouth with her hand. If whatever it was that he sensed nearby heard her, she’d make an easy target.
Had his evil father found them? Did a Sinclair mercenary lay in wait, ready to attack? Something more than a simple noise had spooked him, and he should not leave Jenny alone, crouched against the building, but her eyes promised she would keep quiet.
Sliding closer to the only door, which stood open, he let the darkness that surrounded him soothe, and guide him. As he listened for any sounds emanating from its dark depths, a spell he had memorized, came to mind.
Darkness fills me, feeds on fear,
Lightness heals me, draws me here,
Fill my palm, make shadows clear.
A morsel of light flared into existence in the palm of Gavin’s gloved hand. He cupped it with his other hand, and crept closer to the door. An odd noise inside made him pause. If his father hid inside, why would he make such a noise? It made no sense.
Gavin pushed the door farther open, and tossed the conjured light into the darkness beyond. It burst into a bright light illuminating the entire room. As he crouched, several winged creatures fled through the open door.
Bats.
He wasn't fond of flying rats, ever since he and Niall had explored a cave beneath the cliffs, up the coast from Castle Ruadh, discovered during a hunting trip. His father had sent the boys, along with a dozen of his men, to gather food along the shore and nearby forest.
An odd realization hit him. Sinclair land did not extend to the sea. Those times, when they had hunted and fished, they were poaching on the property of another clan. He shook his head. His father had no honor, even back then.
The cave in question never frightened Niall. In fact, he claimed it was where pirates left their treasure. Even if it were true, Gavin never returned to the dark, damp cave. Niall visited the cave often, because he thought of pirates as heroes. He always returned without treasure, but with a great smile upon his face.
Gavin figured Niall had taken a woman, or two, with him to that cave. Niall was a lusty bastard, more so since gaining the battle scars that covered his face and chest, as if overcompensating for his scarred body. He was still a well-admired lad, but spread his seed regardless of the consequences.
As Gavin entered the cottage, and explored every crevice, he recalled similar rumors that had spread concerning him. Stories persisted about how he bedded the servants in his father's castle, and that he had fathered several bastards. The lies hurt. Had the people who spread those rumors mixed him up with Niall? His father was the one who forced himself on helpless women. Had either man left bastard children across the land?
“If true, one of those children can have the chieftain’s chair. I doono’ want it.”
“What don't you want?” Jenny stepped inside the small room, and her gaze fell on the brilliant ball of white, hovering chest high.
God's teeth! How am I to explain this?
“Nice trick.” She walked with an easy pace around the room, but her eyes widened, the moment she spotted the single small bed. “Where do you plan to sleep?”
He could not hold back his grin. He could tell she wanted to laugh, but she closed her mouth and crossed her arms over her chest. If she had any idea how doing so pushed her breasts higher, as if offering them to him, she would rethink her actions.
“Lass, 'tis only for one night. Tomorrow, I shall find my father, and capture him. The brownie will help me get him home. Once thrown in a cell, far beneath Tulac Castle, he shall no longer be a threat to ye.”
…and I will have no need to stay.
She turned her head aside, but not before a tear ran down her creamy white cheek. He would miss her, and the knowledge that she would miss him, as well, would have to last him a lifetime. Once home, he would redouble his efforts to find his brother. If Niall still lived, Gavin would return him home, and make him laird. If not, he would seek out any woman claiming to have fathered Niall's child. Once grown, the child should be laird. Then Gavin could slip away into darkness.
“I suggest ye see to yer nightly ablutions, then get some rest. I will guard the outside from beyond the trees, across from the door, and Falcon will guard the rear of the building.”
“Falcon?”
“Aye. He and Balfour will no’ allow anyone near the building without a warning. Jake trained them well.”
“Jake trained Falcon, too?”
“Aye, over the last few weeks. He is both a talented smithy, and a gentle trainer of beasts.”
“I never knew that. He lived across the hall for years. Well, I do have to relieve myself. I shared a couple of beers with the brownie. Oh no!”
“What, lass?”
“What about Jaden-Tog? Is he in danger?”
“Doono’ worry about the imp. He has his own magic, and will watch our backs. He comes and goes as he pleases. ‘Tis my plan to have him help me bring my sire to justice.”
Jenny walked over to the door, and peeked outside. “It's kind of dark out there. Can I borrow your light?”
He cupped the hovering light in his palm, walked over, and handed it to her. “Set it on a branch, then return with it when ye finish. I shall wait by the door.”
With the ball of light in her palms, Jenny gazed down at it, then smiled up at him. Her brown eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed. Her loose brown hair wrapped her head like a halo, and the deep purple of her gown reminded him of thistles, growing wild upon the hills in the Highlands.
As he waited on the step outside the front door, he listened for anything that might harm them. The night was still, and the birds had bedded down. A soft whinny from Falcon was all that echoed throug
h the glade. Whatever had scurried across the roof was gone. The air had turned cold, and he hoped his plaid would be enough to keep him warm until morning. He had noticed an assortment of blankets covering the small bed. Did Jenny plan to wear her gown to bed, or would she sleep naked?
“I'm back. Here’s your light. I’d like to know how you made it.”
“Lass, ‘tis…complicated,” he answered, as she glided past him and stared at the small bed.
“Ha! I recognize magic when I see it. I don't care how you did that, but if you use any magic on me, to try to force me to let you have your way with me, I'll kill you myself.”
When she pulled a small dagger from the pocket of her gown, and laid it on the small, wooden barrel beside the tiny bed, he laughed, then headed out the door.
“Wait! What are our plans for tomorrow?”
He turned to answer her, but stopped dead in his tracks. She had pushed one shoulder out of the dress, and threw her arm up to push the sleeve off her other shoulder. She must have noticed his stare, because she stopped.
“Do you mind?”
He shot out the door faster than an arrow from Niall’s longbow.
***
That was close, Jenny thought. She'd almost stripped in front of Gavin. She’d stopped the moment his eyes widened, and his body grew rigid as a statue.
What was I thinking?
She ought to be more careful around him. Otherwise, she might find herself inviting him to spend the night with her. On her. In her. The man tasted as sweet as molten chocolate, and his steamy gaze swept over her, as if he was starving.
Sex was out of the question. He wasn't staying in this timeframe, and she couldn't chance a pregnancy. The dreams resurfaced, every now and then, of their one night together, a night she never spoke of to anyone. In her dreams, their kisses and caresses were perfect. In reality, she had spent a cold, damp night in a hayloft, with nothing but his body and cloak to keep her warm.
Jenny shrugged out of her gown and laid it across a small chair. Should she offer the lone chair to Gavin? She shook her head. He said he planned to watch from the trees. He’d lean against a tree, climb a tree, or fall asleep beneath a tree. She didn't care.
She had set the tiny ball of light on the mantel over the unlit fireplace. He hadn’t started a fire, probably because the smell of smoke might reach the older Sinclair. The possibility that the creepy old bastard watched her apartment made her shiver.
Slipping beneath a musty blanket, she thumped a fist into a lumpy pillow, as she made a mental note to ask Denise who owned this property. Jenny had lived for several years in an apartment nearby, yet never knew of its existence.
The next thing Jenny knew, light filtered in through the lone window. The cheap, translucent shade was drawn, but an odd noise grabbed her attention. Reluctant to leap up from the warmth of her bed, she gathered the musty blanket to her chest. When the door creaked, she reached for her knife.
“ ‘Tis only me, lass. We need to leave.”
“Leave? And go where?”
“I must make preparations to return home. If successful, my sire will return with me as my prisoner. The brownie is feeding the horses. He shall watch over you.”
“You plan to leave me in the care of a mythological Scottish brownie? No way! I’m coming with you.” Shoving aside the musty covers, she rose from the bed. His shocked expression was comical, until she looked down. She wore only a thin wisp of silk, the undergarment she had worn beneath her gown. Her nipples tightened, and poked the fabric.
Gavin tossed a half-eaten apple out the door, as a feral growl erupted in the small space. He lunged. Suddenly on her back, on the bed, with two-hundred pounds of lean, muscular Highlander on top of her, she gasped.
He mumbled something in Gaelic beneath her ear, then nibbled her earlobe. Her secret spot throbbed, and her thighs dampened, as his hand smoothed its way over the silky undergarment, gathering it. His knuckles scraped her skin, as they pushed it farther up her legs. Tingles followed in their wake, and she shivered.
“If ye be cold, love, let me warm ye.” His mouth covered hers, and he breathed his apple-scented breath into her, immediately warming her to her toes. Her stomach growled, and his mouth released hers.
“I hope you brought me something to eat,” she said, then her cheeks burned, when she thought about the exceedingly delectable hard length of him, pressing against her thigh.
“Later, lass.”
Her fingers crept up to circle his neck then played with his hair. He groaned low, the sound stirring her to move her hips, as if trying to climb inside his muscular body. He smelled heavenly, like pine trees and sunshine.
When the stubble on his chin rasped along her throat, and his head bent lower, she opened her eyes. The gloom had brightened, and songbirds sang just outside the open door. A breeze tangled in his long hair, and chilled her bare shoulders. He cupped a breast, then pulled the flimsy fabric lower, with his teeth. When his mouth covered her bared nipple, and he suckled her, her toes curled. A moan escaped, and he chuckled against her breast.
“Ye like that, I gather,” he mumbled, unwilling to release his treasure.
She couldn’t speak, not until his other fingers shoved her chemise even higher. She feared his next move was to lift his kilt. With nothing between them, it would be easy for him to glide inside her, filling her with steel. Her body had a mind of its own, and she was wet and ready, but her head resisted. She was not a time-traveling plaything.
“Stop! I can’t…” Her words drifted into silence. He had stopped moving, and his mouth slowly lifted from her breast. His green eyes had turned nearly all black, and his brow furrowed, as if asking why?
“Gavin, this is wonderful, I admit, but if I get pregnant and you leave me behind, what will I do?” She had tried using the pill, but her body reacted badly. She assumed a man from ancient Scotland didn’t carry condoms in his sporran.
His whole body stiffened, and his eyes searched her face. He nodded, and slid away, and nearly fell from the narrow bed.
“I understand, lass. I cannot saddle ye with such an obligation. ‘Tis no’ fair to a lass as comely as ye. Though I doono’ want to think about leaving ye without helping ye reach yer pleasure.”
“I’m…that’s…I’ll be fine.”
“Do not lie to me, wench,” he murmured, sweeping his hand between her legs.
“Dear Lord!”
“Yer lady parts weep, ready for a man’s attention. I canno’ leave ye this way.” An impish grin tilted his mouth, and in its unguarded nature, the effect was childlike. When his fingers crept lower, she panicked.
“Where do you think they’re going?”
“I wish to bring ye pleasure. Lie back, and allow me this one boon?”
When his hand cupped her sex, the panic faded, and her senses jumbled. When one long finger slipped inside her folds, and his thumb made tiny circles around her yummy place, she shuddered.
“Pleasurable, aye?”
Speechless, Jenny managed to nod. He pushed her chemise up and over her stomach, exposing her to his view, but she didn’t attempt to cover herself. All she wanted was release. She had bottled up every single unreached orgasm that had stirred to life each time they’d kissed. If she was lucky, he was about to kiss her again.
He inhaled a deep breath, and slid lower on the bed. He leaned forward, and planted a kiss right where heaven lay. When his tongue replaced his finger, and thrust inside her, she whimpered. Rising up on her elbows, she gazed at the dark head bobbing between her legs.
Releasing her from his mouth, Gavin raised his head, and he stared at her. Grinning, he lowered his head again, and his tongue and fingers slipped in, over, and around her most sensitive juncture. Her hips rose, and her head arched back, as pleasure climbed higher still.
I could use some of your cream, she thought. That wasn’t going to happen, but maybe in her mouth…
“Dear Lord!”
He pulled away again, and the slight s
crape of his whiskers against her inner thighs only heightened the sensations. “Did I hurt ye?”
“No, God no. Keep going.”
Gavin’s broad smile made her wary of what was to come. He rose to his knees, carrying her legs with him. He set her legs over his massive shoulders, opening her to his gaze. He stared at the small triangle of brown curls, and she blushed from her toes to her cheeks. Lowering his face, his large hands spread her thighs, and he inhaled.
“God’s breath, lass. Yer womanly fragrance is as intoxicating as yer taste. Like honeysuckle mixed with sugar, dipped in cream.” Leaning forward, he licked between the sensitive folds that hid her secret channel, and his mouth suckled the tiny nub where all the pretty nerves resided.
Her orgasm hit with such ferocity, she arched almost all the way off the bed. Gavin thrust several fingers into her core, as his lips wrapped tightly around her sweet spot. Another rush of mindless joy swept through her, and she broke into a sweat. Suddenly chilled, she floated to earth with a groan. When his fingers slid away, she sighed.
Gavin released her legs and crawled up her body. She moaned at the sudden weight. He jerked at the hem of his kilt, and the thick, swollen length of him nestled against her womanly folds. He rubbed against her, but did not attempt to enter her. His groans were pain-filled, and his erection was hard and pulsing, yet he slowed, then stopped.
“Ye drive me to distraction, lass. I will leave ye, now. I must take care of things…private things.” He kissed her, and she tasted herself on his lips.
Jenny opened her mouth and invited him in, and his tongue tangled with hers. She licked and sucked, until his groans grew louder, and his erection prodded her belly. Her hungry mouth gave her another idea.
“Gavin? I need to get up.”
He groaned again, but nodded, shifting to the side. He rose to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
“Wait.” Jenny grabbed a pillow, walked around the end of the bed, and tossed it at his feet. She forced his kilt up to his waist, exposing an erection of massive proportion. “I don't recall this being so big.”
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