by Willa Blair
It was empty.
Where is he? Ewan hadn’t reneged on their agreement and thrown him back in the cellar, had he? A small sound coming from the direction of the hearth drew her attention, and she took a step forward, exhaling a shuddering breath of relief.
Ian lay on a pallet of furs in front of the hearth. She moved closer, wondering how to wake him without scaring the hell out of him. Then she looked again and realized she needn’t have worried.
He was staring up at her, his eyes shining like a cat’s in the ray of moonlight seeping through a crack in the door.
He sat up and turned toward the fire, and within moments built it up so that it cast a warm orange glow throughout the cottage.
And then he unfolded his big body from the pile of furs and stood before her. Naked.
As she stared at him, her mouth went dry and her heart kicked into overdrive. All the things she’d planned to say to him went right out of her head. All she could think about was how even though they hadn’t had a moment alone at all that day, each time their eyes had met, each time their bodies had brushed innocently against each other, every nerve ending in her body had sizzled. And right now all she wanted was to forget about those four miserable years and feel his hands upon her once more.
Wordlessly he held his hand out to her, and then she was in his arms, and he was kissing her as though he was trying to make up for the last four years in this one moment.
His lips feasted upon hers, their tongues dancing together as her hands delved into the heavy mass of his hair and his hands stroked up and down her back. She tore her lips from his and with fumbling fingers untied her cloak, letting it drop to the floor behind her as she kicked off her shoes. The skirt followed closely behind, leaving her clad in her long white underdress.
He took her mouth again as their hands explored each other, stroking and caressing. Ian freed Abby’s hair from its plait, unraveling the strands with one hand while the other tipped her head back so he could kiss her throat. As his tongue trailed over her throbbing pulse, he untied the laces at her neckline and slid the fabric off one shoulder. His mouth traced over her collarbone, and then he stepped back, leaving her bereft of his touch.
His eyes never leaving hers, he ran his hands down the sides of her body and then back up again. His fingers gathered the fabric of her gown and slowly dragged it upward, baring her flesh to his gaze an inch at a time. She raised her arms over her head as he whisked the garment off of her, tossing it to the floor to join the rest of her clothes.
He took her hand and led her closer to the fire, and then he simply looked at her, his eyes slowly roving down her body and back up again, eyeing every inch of her as though she was a banquet laid before a starving man.
Her skin flushed under his hungry gaze, her breasts thrust toward him, begging for his touch. He cupped them in his hands and bent his head to taste her, his lips, tongue, and fingers paying reverent homage to her. Her body cried out for more, her skin so sensitized that even the brush of her pendant against her flesh had her trembling.
He dropped to his knees before her, dragging his mouth down her abdomen in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. Cupping her bottom in his big hands, he ran his tongue around her belly button and then blew on her moist skin, making her quiver.
Desperate to touch him, she tugged him to his feet and ran her hands over his beautiful body. Her fingers traced the muscled ridges of his abdomen and his chest, then crept over his shoulders and down his back. She stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her open mouth to his. As their tongues danced together, she ran her hands down his taut belly, her fingertips just brushing his heated flesh. He jerked beneath her fingers and moaned against her lips.
She stepped back and gazed at him, his skin golden in the light of the fire. He was so beautiful, and as she stared at him, she realized just how much she’d missed looking at him all these years.
His black hair tumbled over his broad shoulders and halfway down his back, the shorter strands framing his chiseled face. His black brows and long sooty lashes set off his piercing emerald eyes to perfection; a small scar next to his right eye reminded her that he was indeed a work of nature and not of art.
There was a dusting of fine dark hair across his chest and down his long legs. His shoulders were broad, and he had the sculpted thighs, calves, arms, and torso that came not from a gym, but from years of working with horses and wielding a sword. He’d filled out since she’d last seen him. He was a powerful man, and she wanted those big hands on her. Now.
As if he had read her mind, he swept her up in his strong arms and laid her down on the pallet of furs. He knelt beside her and gazed silently at her naked body. The reverent look in his eyes made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. She reached for him, and he took her mouth once more, his lips nibbling at hers as his fingers trailed up the inside of her thigh, inching ever closer to where she burned for him.
Finally he touched her there, his tongue entering her mouth as his fingers sank into her body. His caresses started out slow, and then increased in speed until she pulsed around him, her fingers twisting in the furs beneath her. She whimpered in protest as he drew his mouth from hers, his fingers leaving her. He trailed his open mouth down her belly, and her whimper turned into a gasp of pleasure as he pressed his mouth to her aching flesh.
She drew up her knees, twisting her fingers in his long hair. Her body was awash in waves of sensation as Ian seduced her with his mouth. Before long, he had her writhing beneath him, her nerve endings humming, her body quivering.
It felt so damned good, and yet it wasn’t enough. Her body craved more, and every moment of his tender caresses was an eternity. She tugged on his long hair, and he looked up at her, his eyes glittering with desire.
He kissed his way back up her body and braced himself over her on strong arms. She pulled his head to hers, her open mouth hot and demanding on his. Her hands roved all over him; over his shoulders and down his back to cup his buttocks, around to the front to trace his chest and belly, loving the way his muscles contracted beneath her fingers. Her hands moved lower still.
He groaned her name, his fingers clenching in her hair as she stroked him. Abby felt him pulsate against her hand. Her heart was pounding, her body quivering with desire. She tangled her fingers in his hair as she stared desperately into his glowing eyes.
He rose above her, and in one swift motion, claimed her body with his. She gasped at the sensation of him sinking into her. They stared into each other’s eyes as their bodies moved in unison, their supple flesh glistening with sweat. Her long legs wrapped around his hips, urging him closer. It wasn’t long before Abby felt the pressure building within her, and from the look in his eyes, he was nearing the end as well. He surged hard against her, and she muffled her cries against his damp shoulder as their passion exploded simultaneously, the world around them shattering into pieces.
When Abby returned to herself some time later, she opened her eyes to see Ian’s eyes gleaming down at her, his lips curved in a content smile. She reached up to touch his cheek, and he brought his lips to hers in a tender kiss. He rolled to his back, bringing her with him so she lay draped across his chest. She was in Ian’s arms again, and at the moment, nothing else mattered.
****
Ian ran his hand down the length of Abby’s satiny hair, not quite able to fathom what had just happened. He’d been trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable on the pallet on the floor after deciding that it was the lesser of two evils—no creative mathematics could change the fact that a six-foot-four body did not fit on a five-foot-ten mattress.
He’d been thinking about Abby, wondering when he’d get to talk to her, to touch her the way he’d wanted to for so long. Once Ewan had granted him permission to move about the village, he’d hoped to get some alone time with her, but the ever-present guards made that impossible.
When the door opened and she’d slipped into the cottage, he’d thought she was the hallucination of an exhauste
d, over-stressed brain. He’d closed his eyes and pinched himself, then opened them again. She was still there. She was real, not a hallucination. He’d started to crawl out from under the furs and then remembered he was naked. Before he could ask her to turn her head so he could grab his plaid, she’d stepped into a moonbeam and he’d seen the desire in her eyes.
He had spent the last four years trying unsuccessfully to forget her, only to finally realize it would never happen. None of the women he’d met could even compare to Abby, let alone take her place. He’d had a few brief flings, but they’d left him cold, and he’d ended them before they’d gone very far. He hadn’t been with anyone in many months, and had finally worked up the nerve to try and track her down, to find out once and for all why they went wrong. But she found him first. Now he lay on a pallet of furs in a cottage in the early seventeenth century, cradling her beautiful body in his arms.
And he wanted more than anything to keep her there.
Chapter 15
Abby awakened to the sensation of being enveloped in a warm cocoon. She opened her eyes to find the cottage awash in the pale light of dawn. Ian’s body was wrapped around hers, his chest against her back, his legs molded to hers. His strong arm was around her waist and his breath tickled her ear. She carefully maneuvered herself around in his arms so she could look at his face, which was completely relaxed in sleep. Tousled strands of silky dark hair hung over his forehead, giving him a boyish look counteracted by the stubble on his jaw.
Abby still found it hard to believe that she was lying in his arms. She reached up to lightly trace the contours of his face, brushing her fingers over his eyelids, down his straight nose, and across his lips, paying a little extra attention to that wonderfully sexy lower lip.
His breathing changed as he stirred against her. She glanced up to meet his heavy-lidded green gaze. He kept his eyes steady on her as he opened his mouth, gently nipping her finger, his tongue swirling around her fingertip.
His hand stroked down the length of her hair to cup her bottom, and he rolled to his back, drawing her atop him, their bodies flush against one another. Their lips met in a heated kiss. His fingers tangled in her hair as she pressed open-mouthed kisses against his neck, then his chest, then his washboard belly, her hand moving between them to touch him, to stroke him. He sucked in a breath and dragged her back up his body, rolling her beneath him.
He loomed over her, stared down at her with eyes like green lasers, searing her to her very core. He worshiped her body, paying homage to her breasts with his mouth and tongue, while his hand moved down between their bodies to touch her where she needed him the most. He took his time with her, finally reducing her to a quivering mass of sensation before moving back up to take her mouth once again as he fitted his body to hers.
They moved together, slowly, savoring each other, hands gently stroking, mouths meeting in tender kisses, taking their time with each other as they had not the night before. Ian rolled to his side, pulling Abby’s leg over his hip, his eyes never leaving hers as their bodies rocked against each other. Finally, leisure gave way to urgency and they succumbed to their passion. Their bodies surged against each other, mouths melding, legs entwined, hands clutching at each other until the world dissolved around them.
When she opened her eyes a few minutes or years later, her body was still humming. She was on her back and Ian was on his side next to her. He was leaning up on one elbow, gazing down at her as he trailed a lock of her hair around her breast. He grinned as she trembled at the sensation of the feather-light touch of her own hair against her skin.
“Madainn mhath, mo mhùirnìn.”
Good morning, my darling. Words she hadn’t heard in years rolled off his tongue, his deep voice a rumble against her ear. She’d always loved it when he’d spoken to her in Gaelic. He lowered his head, kissing her mouth and then her throat.
Dimly it occurred to her that she’d sneaked into his cottage in the middle of the night with the intention of talking to him, not making love with him. He slowly ran his hand down the valley between her breasts, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Before she let herself become distracted again, she grabbed his wrist, halting the seductive movement of his hand.
“Ian, wait. We need to talk. There was a reason I came here last night.” She felt her face flush as his heated gaze raked over her. “I mean, I came here to talk, but when I saw you looking at me…well, the rest just happened. I’m glad it happened,” she was quick to add, “but there are things that should have been said a long time ago, and I don’t want to let any more time go by. Oh God, I sound like an idiot! Ian, being with you again after all this time is everything I’ve dreamed about, but if we’re going to try and make it work, we can’t have this hanging over us.”
****
Ian’s stomach clenched at Abby’s ominous words. Though he’d spent the last four years wondering why she’d cut him off without a word, now that she was finally going to tell him why, he was afraid to hear what she had to say. Being with her again, with their bodies so close that he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began, was like coming home on a cold, rainy night. He’d been so lonely without her all this time, and he didn’t want to dredge up that misery again. But she was right; the only way to move forward was to vanquish the demons of the past.
She sat up and pulled her dress over her head. She looked down at her hands, not meeting his eyes.
“I was wrong to cut you off without a word four years ago, and it’s taken me until now to realize just how wrong. And then you risked your life to follow me into God knows where after I stalked away from you like a petulant two-year-old. You were injured and imprisoned, all because you came after me. You’re a far better person than I could ever be, and I don’t deserve your devotion.”
She still hadn’t looked up at him, but he could see the tears clinging to her eyelashes. “Why, Abby?” he asked gently, trying to keep his tone even. “What happened to make you stop loving me?”
“I never…” she began, and then cut herself off mid-sentence. She never what? Stopped loving me? If that was true, then why the hell had they wasted four years of their lives?
“Abby, we’re in a tiny village in the year 1610, and it’s barely dawn. There’s no one around, and there are no distractions. There’s no better time for you to talk to me. You’re right; I want to know what happened between us. I need to know.”
She remained silent, and he knew that she was agonizing over what to say. He decided to help her out.
“Okay, I’ll start with what I know. After you returned to New York to finish college, things got crazy with the movie. The lead actor backed out, and overnight I went from having a minor part to being the star. Suddenly, I had a shitload of work to do, which is why I had to postpone my trip to New York during the Christmas holidays. It took a lot of work to turn a graduate student into an actor, even with all my swordfighting and riding experience.”
Abby had shifted so she was sitting cross-legged facing him, and he reached over to take her hand. “I remember the disappointment in your voice when I called to tell you that we had to postpone my visit until spring break. I missed you so much, and it killed me to postpone that trip.
“I was lookin’ forward so much to seein’ you in the spring, but our shooting schedule was just rammed. When you told me not to bother makin’ any more plans to visit until the movie was finished, I was furious. I thought you were being…” he broke off, not wanting to say what he was thinking.
“Selfish? It’s okay, Ian, you can say it. I was being selfish. You had this great opportunity to do what most people only dream about, and I was whining that you couldn’t come see me.”
“Aye, maybe you were bein’ a wee bit selfish,” Ian said, hoping to get a smile out of her. It didn’t work. “I thought we had it all sorted out when we spoke. But then you vanished on me. You didn’t answer my calls or my emails. And then you slammed the door in my face when I came to New York after the movie wrapped.” He’d fel
t the pain of that door slamming as though it had physically hit him.
He tipped her chin up so he was gazing into her tear-filled eyes. “Abby, what did I do to make you stop talkin’ to me?”
Her lips trembled and the tears began to spill from her eyes. “You cheated on me,” she whispered.
What? It felt as though his guts had twisted inside-out. He gaped at her, anger rising within him that she would believe him capable of such a thing. Remembering that there was a guard outside, he tried to keep his voice under control, when all he wanted to do was shout at her.
“I would never…why would you ever think that? Did you just assume it went along with the acting? And why didn’t you say something then, so I could have told you it was bullshit?”
She looked utterly miserable. “I remembered how all the girls used to surround you whenever we went out, even before the acting. It didn’t bother me as much back then, because you never gave any indication you were interested in them, and because I was spending nearly every moment with you.
“But then I was three thousand miles away from you. I knew how lonely I was without you, and I could only imagine how tempted you would have been by all those beautiful women. And I hadn’t seen you in so long.”
Ian was speechless. He had to get away from her for a moment. He got to his feet and snatched up his plaid from the bed, wrapping it around him like a blanket. He walked over to the window, gazing out at the lightening sky for a long moment before replying.
“You cut me off with no explanation, throwing away everything we had, because you thought I was messin’ around with some random lasses? Is that really what you thought of me? Is that what you think of me now?”
He felt her presence behind him before she spoke. “I didn’t really believe it until the interview with your costar.” She spat the word as though it were a vile expletive.
His glamorous costar, Julie Hart, had gone on one of the entertainment shows to talk about the new movie. The interviewer had asked her about her “sexy Scottish costar,” and she’d implied that they’d been having an affair.
