10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set

by P. L. Parker, Beth Trissel, L. L. Muir, Skhye Moncrief, Sky Purington, Nancy Lee Badger, Caroline Clemmons, Bess McBride, Donna Michaels

  “To you perhaps?”

  “Nay. I have tried but I have no mind for measuring and stirring. The gathering and drying of plants makes me sneeze.” They both giggled. “She told me my future lay in serving Kirkwall Gunn, and then I shall return with honor to my own village. I want to stay here and learn to fight at his side.”

  “When will that happen?” Reid looked so young. “How old are you?”

  “I have seen seventeen summers. I will compete with others of our clans in the creach when we return to Keldurunach.”

  “Creach?”

  The boy’s cheeks took on a rosy shade of red. “Ye do not know of the creach? I thought a lad’s rite of passage was widely known throughout the Highlands.”

  “Humor me?”

  “I will join others in a raid on a neighboring clan’s livestock.”

  “You’re going to steal cows or sheep to become a man?” Should she laugh at the image or cry at more proof she’d traveled too far from home.

  “We always return the beasties.”

  “May I ask you a question? Will you promise to answer, but not ask anything about why?” Haven waited, the air filled with the soothing clop of workhorses and the rumblings of the wagons.

  “To the best of my ability,” he answered.

  “What day is it?”

  “What?”

  “Today. What is the date?” She cringed at his puzzled glare. He again looked behind them then snapped the reins on the workhorse. He remembered his oath, she surmised, when he answered a bit louder with what she feared must be the truth.

  “I am not aware of the exact day, but this is midsummer, in the year 1598.”

  Haven swung her attention to the giant on horseback who rode alone, several hundred feet ahead. Reid dreamed of fighting by Kirk’s side. Already injured in an attack, he still wanted to risk his life to steal cows, guard a treasure, and whatever else people did in the sixteenth century.

  “From where do ye hail, my lady?”

  “Lincoln is in the White Mountains in northern New England. That’s in North America, on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.”

  “Please do not jest.”

  “I’m serious. People will travel there in increasing numbers. Jamestown, colonized by the British in 1607, is only the beginning. After an uprising by the colonists in Concord, Massachusetts in 1775, it will become a new country.”

  Reid was polite enough not to laugh. Did he believe her claims? Or, was he afraid he sat beside a crazy woman?

  “Please believe me. I need help. You might be the only link I have to someone with the power to send me home.” Could his mother help her? Would she?

  “If what ye say be true, ye are in grave danger.” Reid leaned toward her, nearly whispering words that sent a horrified chill down her back. Reid looked worried.

  “Why? All I want is to remake the potion, say the ancient words, and go home.”

  “Do ye not know how Scottish lairds treat witches and people who talk of potions?”

  “Not really.” Iona would know.

  Gavina appeared at her shoulder, hovering beside the wagon on her pony. The woman’s eyes stared in wide-open attention at the way Reid’s head pressed close to Haven’s. Had Gavina heard Haven speak of potions and time travel? The woman’s slight smile warned Haven she might start more rumors.

  “I know yer secret. Ye healed Balfour with a mystical poultice. Ye turn heads with yer sweet fragrance prepared with poison berries. Ye seduce powerful men,” she said, pointing her defiant chin toward Kirk then back to Reid, “and young boys. Yes, I know yer secrets.”

  Haven’s blood ran cold.

  Gavina laughed aloud, yanked her pony’s reins, and galloped away.

  “Devil’s own luck. A sixteenth-century gossiping bitch.” Gavina would blab that Reid and Haven were more than friends. She thought of his overreaction to Cameron. “I’m doomed.”

  “I never liked Gavina. She follows my laird with hungry eyes.” They both grunted in uneasy agreement. “And I am sorry I have not heard of a town called Lincoln in America.”

  He was familiar with Highland games. Held in early spring or after the harvest, the festivals were popular celebrations. Beltane, or May Day, was the best attended festival in the northeastern Highlands. Clan members ventured from near and far. All ages came to wrestle, fight, eat, and drink.

  “Too many clan wars have soaked our hills and meadows in blood.” Reid rubbed his shoulder. “I have no stomach for burned villages or stone-topped cairns marking the graves of innocent peasants or our brave warriors.”

  Wars? Burial sites? If memory served, she’d landed in a time where women were raped, and clan wars ruled the land.

  “I remember a muscular fellow who stood taller than even our Balfour,” Reid continued. He flicked a fly from the horse’s ear with the reins. “The giant tossed a tree trunk end over end to the cheers of the crowd then collected kisses from many a lovely lass. He died in battle not two months later.”

  Haven swallowed at the sobering thoughts. “Do you participate in these games?”

  “No. I stay far away. ‘Tis hard to distinguish games from wars, and I have not the size required for such feats. I might train for the road race after our laird is…”

  “Is what?” She waited for him to continue, but his jaw clenched tight.

  He’s hiding something. He’s acting like Kirk.

  “That’s okay. If he ordered you to keep silent, I understand,” though she certainly did not. Reid’s pale face affirmed his nervousness with the subject. He felt guilty on her account, so she leaned over and planted a peck on his cheek.

  * * * * *

  They stopped for the night near some cottages on the outskirts of a small village. Reid pointed down the road. “We are but one valley from Castle Ruadh and its village.”

  “Will we get there tomorrow?”

  “Aye.”

  Anxious to reach the end of the adventure, she gripped the side of the wagon while they waited outside a large barn where the group was to bed the animals. Chickens pecked in the dirt until a big, gray dog chased them, leaving her to wonder what her first visit to a Scottish castle would entail.

  Once there, what would become of her? She had no money and only a casual knowledge of Scotland and its history. Haven wanted to kick herself for not listening closer to Iona’s father and his stories about his homeland. Instead, her stomach rumbled.

  “Ye missed lunch again, my lady.”

  A voice smooth as single malt scotch made a pleasant sensation skip down her spine. She spun around, not surprised to find Kirk close enough to touch. She stared at his mouth, and unconsciously licked her lips.

  Kirk growled.

  She slid farther away on the wagon’s bench.

  “Eat this before ye faint. I would have ye hale and hearty.” He held out a chunk of bread.

  “Have me?” she squeaked.

  “It would not do to present ye at Ruadh with pale cheeks and a growling stomach.”

  “Present me? To the owners of the castle?” Haven bit into the dry bread, instantly missing the water skin she’d left with her pony.

  “Aye. Until then, I want ye safe. By my side,” he whispered. A glint sparkled in his eyes, but he didn’t smile.

  “I appreciate the thought, but I’ll be fine. I thought I’d stay with Reid.”

  “Nay.”

  Reid muttered something then jumped from the wagon, leaving her alone with a growling Highlander. A shiver turned quickly to molten flame at his command. His body vibrated with power, and an undercurrent of something else. Desire? Rage?

  The bread forgotten, she chewed on her lower lip to keep from spouting words sure to enflame the situation. The burn of a blush on her cheekbones festered while her mind worked its way around memories of the entire afternoon. Had Gavina spread rumors? Did Kirk put stock in gossip?

  Or, had he seen me kiss Reid?

  Irritation gathered inside her. She crossed both arms over her chest
and swung her gaze to the rump of the workhorse. At Kirk’s continued silence, Haven turned back to face him and said, “What do you want from me?”

  His brows arched. “I will not watch ye flirt with a child.”

  “You can’t be serious. Reid and I talked about our families. He’s a trustworthy friend who keeps no secrets from me, unlike you.”

  “My secrets are mine and mine, alone. Ye are my responsibility until I find another.”

  “Another what?”

  “Another warrior to watch over ye.” His eyes flashed, as if challenging her as to what else he referred to.

  “Reid is doing a wonderful job, and—”

  “The boy is injured. He cannot protect ye from mercenaries. Remember them?”

  “Of course. They keep me from enjoying a good night’s sleep.”

  “I thought I…” Kirk blushed. The man’s cheeks, as chiseled as a chunk of stone, reddened.

  He must be remembering how we spent the night.

  “Those savages want yer body as well as revenge. We killed their men. If I was them, I would still be on our trail.”

  His words meant to scare her into staying. So he could take their intimacy to the next step, maybe? That was silly. He’d had ample opportunity to make love to her before now. He often acted as if the thought of getting closer to her angered him. He’d been a puzzle since they’d met.

  “Thanks, but I won’t be a burden or a one-night stand.”

  His eyebrows shot up.

  He probably doesn’t understand twenty-first century terminology. I’ll enlighten him..

  “What I mean is, I will not be your mistress.”

  “And this is the reason ye want to leave me?” he whispered.

  Mounted on his large warhorse, a shadow passed over his face. How could eyes so blue darken nearly to black? His fading scar added to his ferociousness, but nothing could disguise his blatant masculinity. She wished he would stop talking, pull her off the wagon, and gather her in his arms. Her gaze slid to his groin and her cheeks burned anew. He was aroused.

  His eyes widened as if he’d guessed her thoughts.

  “I don’t want to leave you, Kirk, but you and I are like fire and gasoline.”

  “Gaso what?”

  “Never mind. You and your men have kept me safe, dry, and fed.” Her stomach growled at the mention of food.

  “To blazes with my clansmen.”

  His growl made her snap all her attention to his mouth. He leaned from the saddle as if to kiss her.

  Hot damn!

  His hands snatched her from the bench and whisked her onto his lap. Heat radiated from him, through her clothing and all the way to her core. His breathing grew rapid and the bulge below his wide leather belt pressed into her bottom.

  “I’m grateful to you, of course, but I need to get home. You need to get to the castle. Am I right?” She pointed toward the distant hills, the direction they’d traveled for days. Kirk didn’t answer. His scent mingled with the aromas of pine and leather, tempting her to lean forward and kiss him. Before she knew it, she’d leaned into his chest, but she held her face inches from his.

  He leaped to the ground, set her on her feet, and released her with such force she flew back against the wagon.

  Reid’s head popped up from the other side of the workhorse he’d been busy unhitching. Other heads swiveled in their direction. Sensing his control had snapped, Haven stepped toward him and shoved Kirk’s chest, hard.

  He stepped back. Raw emotions passed over his face; desire, regret, embarrassment.

  He’s as easy to read as an open book.

  She heard murmurs and then footsteps. Kirk ignored everyone but her and grabbed her bare arms.

  Zap! Kirk’s face disappeared as a foggy visage floated up. A great stone structure, a beautiful blond woman atop a wall, and Kirk lying naked on a bed, came into view. Then a horrible gush of blood erupted, filling her hallucination and racking her body with tremors. When she realized Kirk was shaking her, and it had been only a vision, she groaned with relief. Nodding her head, she caught his next whispered words.

  “Why could we not have met two months past?” He released her then stomped away. Gavina, by the far side of the hastily built main campfire, blocked his path. Kirk said something, and Gavina laughed. Had he invited her to warm his bed?

  Haven shivered at her premonition of death. Reid and a few others walked up to her and inquired if their chief had injured her. Murmuring a few words to allay their fears, she replayed Kirk’s words in her head.

  Why in the world would two months make a difference?

  * * * * *

  After Kirk had released Haven, he left her by the wagon then growled when a stiff breeze rustled through the trees, carrying her intoxicating scent. Bent on kissing her senseless, Kirk had pulled her into his lap. He had tried to ignore Gavina’s scandalous words, yet he himself witnessed the kiss Haven pressed to Reid’s cheek.

  His shoulders shook with anger-fueled tremors. The urge to take her against the wagon in broad daylight stunned him. Kirk welcomed the intrusion of his men that caused him to walk away. And when the saucy Gavina blocked his path, he was tempted to invite her to share his bed. Need pulsed through him, until she spouted more lies. He had laughed and walked away.

  The journey to Castle Ruadh neared completion. Camped close to a village, his men deserved to enjoy tonight. He would not set guards around the camp until after they enjoyed their supper. Neither his sentinels nor his trailing scouts had spotted any mercenaries over the past two days.

  Kirk’s body ached. He had pulled her off the wagon and into his lap. The sensation of her curved bottom pressing into his hard length dissipated when she refused his protection and the offer of another warrior. Kirk rubbed his chest as he walked. Her words hurt.

  God’s teeth.

  The yearning clutching his aching chest, and the omnipresent need to touch Lady Haven, increased each day. Each hour. To continue his attentions would be the death of him.

  And my clan.

  Kirk recalled her insistence for privacy. He walked over to a group of warriors and ordered them to pitch her tent far from others, near the edge of the forest. Absolute quiet blanketed the camp except for the crackle of the fire pit and the mumble of men at work. Their mounts were bedded in a stable close to their camp, but Kirk felt strange.

  Unhinged.

  In shadow, he turned and watched her from a distance. Reid and several warriors talked to her while she rubbed her back. Had he caused an injury when he unceremoniously shoved her against the wagon? He worried his bottom lip and ran fingers through his hair.

  God’s teeth, I am nothing but a barbaric brute.

  Kirk tossed twigs into the campfire as he watched Reid lead her to her tent. She kissed the boy’s cheek, again. As darkness fell on the camp, Haven wandered back and forth near her tent. One warrior began to sing a mournful tune while some ate a meager meal. Others divided into couples to share the night.

  Happy endings are not in my future.

  Kirk strode off to set the watch. Something stopped him. Tonight would be their last chance to talk. Tonight would be his last opportunity to smell her fragrant skin and slide his fingers through her silky, black hair. He ought to explain about the treaty, the betrothal. He must tell her that Lady Fia meant nothing to him.

  He bent down and picked up a dead log. The strain on his back and the heat of the flames jolted him with sensations other than lust. He tossed the dry wood on the fire and brushed dirt from his hands. Sparks flew high into the night sky to light his way to his quarry.

  She would accept his sacrifice and understand, or curse his soul to the devil. But, before he covered the distance between them, Gavina once more blocked his way.

  CHAPTER 19

  Haven heaved a sigh of frustration. Kirk had headed her way until Gavina blocked his path. Again. The woman’s charms were on display for all to see, and had stopped Kirk mid step.

  What a surprise.

/>   In the far reaches of her heart, she knew Kirk wanted to finish what he’d started. She rubbed her back. He’d slammed her against the wagon, and she worried he’d planned to beat her.

  Or, kiss her. All thoughts of either had melted away when the disturbing vision appeared. A beautiful woman, a castle, and Kirk covered in blood. All her nightmare needed now was the creep in the black hooded robe.

  “Devil’s own luck,” Haven muttered. She crossed her arms, and hugged them to her chest. Kirk kept something important from her. Fighting back tears, Haven spun away from the sight of Kirk and Gavina with their heads bent together, and stomped toward the forest.

  “Until I learn the truth, there’s no happy ending in my future.”

  “There will be no happy ending for ye. Or him. Ever,” a deep voice whispered.

  A flash of steel settled beneath her chin. An arm clamped around her chest. A sudden chill raced along Haven’s skin.

  Before she could scream, the sharp blade pressed against her neck and a gloved hand clamped over her mouth. She bumped backward into a rock-hard chest. Whoever stood behind her threw a bag or cloak over her head. Held tight in a man’s arms, she felt helpless.

  “I’ve come back to play.”

  She recognized the threat and the voice. Haven swallowed her fear. The Mackenzie had found them. As he dragged her from camp, she knew she was in big trouble. Gavina had captured Kirk’s attention, so he hadn’t witnessed her abduction. No one had.

  It’s up to me to save my own ass.

  Haven dug in her heels, pulled with all her might, and yanked Mackenzie off-balance. The burn of a blade slicing across her throat made her freeze. Warm blood trickled down her chilled skin. The smell of damp wool and her blood made her nauseated. Heart-stopping fear replaced her attempted bravado as he maneuvered her through the trees.

  Blinded by the hood, she tripped on a root and nearly toppled to her knees. Branches grabbed at her bodice. Prickly bushes tugged at her hem. He yanked her upright each time she tripped. The man’s fingers clawed her waist and inched up toward her breast as he forced her farther and farther from safety.