“Ach, lass, you are beautiful in the moonlight.” His voice was gravelly with desire…
For her. She preened at the sexy sound. Nipples pebbled and aching, she arched her back, giving him a better view.
Stephen wasn’t one to neglect the offering Jillian set before him. He quickly stripped and knelt beside the nymph he married. Certainly, she was a forest sprite of ancient times sent to seduce him.
“Thank you for becoming my wife.”
Jillian blushed and stretched her arms out to him. He slipped into the embrace and held her close, kissing her hair, her face, her lips. Stephen took the kiss deeper, loving the rasp of their tongues performing a mating dance.
“I love you,” Jillian whispered near his ear after their lips parted and he pressed a kiss to the base of her throat.
He slid lower to lave a pert breast, sucking the pebbled nipple into his mouth. Jillian arched into him, and he growled. The wet nipple popped out of his mouth and she giggled. Had the nerve to laugh at him.
She brushed fingertips over his hair as if to tame him. “I need to ask you something, I should have asked you before we got married.”
Unease crept across the back of his neck. “What is it?”
“Will you be disappointed if we don’t have a child of our own? If for some reason I can’t have a baby?”
Disappoint him? So that was what she feared. “Nae, sweetling. Childbearing is risky. I lost my mother to the fever. And then my wee brother also passed. I would understand completely if you are unwilling to go through birthing a bairn.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to have a child. Having a baby is much less dangerous in this time than it was in the past. It’s just that there is a chance… Well, some women are unable to have babies. What if I am one of those?”
“Nae worries, lass.” He squeezed and released her fingers.
“But isn’t having a son important to you?”
“Creating a son—or a wee lass—with you would give me great joy. Whether that happens or nae, I am happy to call Keita daughter and Duff and Malcolm sons.”
Jillian lunged for him, rolled him over, and kissed him with a frenzy that left Stephen breathless and more than ready to perform his husbandly duty. He placed a palm on each side of her head and kissed her hard. She slid onto his erection, and he bucked. The exquisite pleasure near to pain. He needed…
She didn’t leave him wanting. She rode him to a world full of light. Love mingling with the pleasure pulsing along his cock. They reached the pinnacle simultaneously and plunged over the edge with their lips fused, Stephen’s seed pumping deep into Jillian’s womb.
He lingered within the bliss for a spell, satiated, limbs entwined with his love’s, her breath against his chest. Then it occurred to him that he gripped her too tightly, but he couldn’t seem to let her go. He loosened his hold. “Are you all right, sweetling?”
“Heavenly.”
He kissed her and rolled to the side, giving her space to breathe. They lay hip against hip, holding hands, enjoying the evening sky, a slight breeze cooling their skin.
Suddenly, Jillian stiffened beside him. Sat bolt upright.
“What’s wrong?” He rose to a sitting position, too.
“Was that a giggle?” Her gaze scanned the shadows. “I feel as if someone watches us.
“I dinnae think anyone is there, sweetling.”
“My God! Emerald eyes. Of course. Why hadn’t I thought of it sooner?” She gripped his arm. “You saw Caitrina. She must have posed as the hag in the past and the elderly woman at the reception and possibly at the ceremony.”
* * *
Caitrina didn’t allow the glamour of invisibility to falter as she peered through the shrubs at Jillian and Stephen. She hadn’t meant to make the silly sound, to give herself away. The giggle had slipped from smirking lips. And how could she have avoided the utterance?
She won! She shot her arms in the air and swiveled her hips, performing a victory dance.
Besides, the excitement of witnessing Stephen and Jillian conceive a new life made her giddy. She’d be like an aunt to the child. That is, if she were to stay on earth. But alas, the challenge was now complete, and she was free to return to Tir-nan-Og as a royal princess.
Her greatest desire fulfilled.
Then why did sadness overcome her as she faded into the vanishing, leaving Jillian and Stephen alone to enjoy the remainder of their wedding night?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Caitrina emerged into substance in the courtyard behind The Celtic Image shop. Douglas had outfitted the space like a medieval list. ’Twas where he trained wealthy men who wanted to pretend they were sixteenth century warriors. They participated in tournaments on weekends, calling themselves reenactors. Men hadn’t changed much throughout time.
She sensed Douglas watching from the shadows.
“Why did you leave the reception?” she asked.
“Why should I have stayed?” His voice slid over her, triggering desire and other emotions better left hushed. “I offered best wishes to the bride and groom.”
“I was there.”
He stepped into the beam of light shining down from the brass fixture hanging on the wall beside the shop’s door. He’d been working out and wore naught but a pair of snug fitness shorts and a moist sheen on his tanned skin. “As yourself or someone else, princess?”
She ignored the taunt and insinuation in his tone. “I wanted—”
He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her close and covered her mouth with the softest, sensual lips she’d had the pleasure to kiss. Wet and deep, his kiss was all-consuming, his tongue exploring the moist recesses of her mouth. She became liquid within his arms. Wanting and needing what only he could provide. When he leaned away, he left her panting, wet and needy.
“Marry me.” His finger encircled her wrist, thumb over her frantically beating pulse. “I feel your love for me.”
In an attempt to harness wayward emotions, Caitrina twirled her fingers in the hair on his chest, stalling for time. She gazed into amber eyes. In return, he searched her gaze, seeking the answer she couldn’t give. “I cannot wed you.”
His lips thinned as expected. Annoyance darkening his eyes. “One of these days you’ll give me the right answer.” He jerked away and leaned against the shop door, arms crossed over a broad chest.
Regret seared the human portion of her halfling heart. Saying goodbye to him would surely be the hardest thing she’d ever need do. There was no place for him in Tir-nan-Og. She could never wed a mortal man.
Then her thoughts brightened. She now had the freedom to come and go as she pleased. She could visit him on occasion. Then a thought as chilling as a winter frost froze her blood. Caitrina remembered how he seemed to fancy a certain red-headed singer from a Scottish tribal band that frequented the Highland Gathering at Grandfather Mountain every July.
Would Douglas follow the singer from gig to gig, or find someone else to mate with while Caitrina enjoyed the pleasures of Faerie paradise? Would he give up on their love? Abandon their bond? Marry another?
She stepped into him, hoping he would embrace her, send her away with his taste on her lips.
“Nae worries, love. I’ll keep asking until you agree.” He rubbed gentle fingers over the furrow in her brow. “What has you vexed? Surely not my desire for us to spend the rest of our lives together?”
“I need to go away for a time.”
“You mustn’t.” He roughly gripped her upper arms and shook. “The queen will never let you return to earth. You will become her pet, kept in a luxuriously decadent cage.”
“What ken you of the queen or my future?” Caitrina raised her chin. How could he ken anything about the queen? Or her eternal life? He was naught but a mere mortal.
“More than I can share at this time.” He dropped his hands, curling them into fists at his sides.
The lure of Tir-nan-Og called to her. She needed to leave Douglas before she made a regrettable
mistake and agreed to marry the damn man and became rooted to earth.
“Caitrina…” Her name seemed torn from him. His voice and amber gaze pleaded for her to remain.
She hesitated, fae and human halves warring. She couldn’t stay. Unable to deal with the onslaught of emotion, Caitrina faded. He reached for her. Before his touch could change her mind, she vanished.
“Damn your foolishness! The queen won’t let you return.” His bitter words sent a burst of fear through her veins as she traveled on the breeze. Would his warning ring true?
She reemerged just beyond the garden gate on the faerie mound.
“Bravo! Bravo!” The queen clapped. “Such a touching scene.
The fine hairs at the back of Caitrina’s neck bristled. “You have been watching.”
“Always, princess. I suppose I must call you that now. You may have won the challenge and the right to return to Tir-nan-Og as royalty, howbeit...” The queen held up a pampered hand to stop the retort ready on Caitrina’s tongue. “You will never have what you truly desire.”
“And what would that be, pray tell?”
“Love eternal.”
“Ha! I dinnae want any such thing. I have nae time for such drivel.” Caitrina laughed although it sounded forced even to her ear. Her fae half found the queen’s declaration humorous. Faeries, as everyone kens, are incapable of love. But she was also half human and in love with a human. Totally and completely in love with Douglas.
“Then you will not mind that your father has betrothed you to my son.”
A bolt of fear—excitement—pierced Caitrina’s belly. “That cannot be.”
“’Tis true. Dugaid signed the contract with Prince Torgil in fae blood. Your fate is irreversibly sealed.”
“Nae! ’Tis impossible. My father wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Oh, but he did.” The queen smiled like the Cheshire cat. “I am sure the Dark Prince will give you a wee amount of time to adjust to the happy tidings. Have no fear though, he will come for you if you refuse to go to him.”
The queen’s smile dripped vengeance and, with a flash of silver light, she vanished into the nether.
Caitrina stumbled to the garden and leaned against the gate for support. What a fool she’d been. This was not how things were supposed to go. She was to have lived the rest of eternity free of all encumbrances in Tir-nan-Og. Not become the chattel of an overindulged, domineering fae prince. ’Twould have been better to remain on earth as she’d been—in service to Mairi MacLachlan and free to lovingly spar with Douglas.
* * *
Five months later
Charlotte, North Carolina
“Let’s go see our little girl.” Jillian opened the door and they entered Keita’s hospital room. Jillian kissed the child’s forehead and took a seat in the chair next to the bed. Stephen and Duff chose to stand.
“Hey, sweet pea,” she murmured to the imp lying so quiet on the mattress.
Mossy green eyes, a tad glassy, glanced her way. The poor dear appeared so tiny amidst the white sheets of the hospital bed. And with the white cap on her head and the bandages covering the better part of her face, all Jillian could see were those sweet, compelling eyes and pert nose.
An abrupt knock on the door preceded the entrance of Jasmine, the pediatric nurse assigned to Keita for the morning shift. “How is our patient doing?”
“We hoped you would tell us,” Stephen said.
Jasmine smiled and went about examining the child.
“Her vitals are good.” The nurse added a small glass bottle of clear liquid to one of the ports lower on the intravenous tubing in addition to a new fluids bag. “This should help with pain. She’s been advised not to try to talk. I hope you will keep that in mind while you visit with her today.”
“Of course. We understand.” Jillian clasped Keita’s hand and received a faint squeeze in return. The child comforting her. Her eyes misted.
“Please keep your stay short so she can rest. I’ll be back later to check on her.” Jasmine gripped the doorknob. “If you have any questions, feel free to stop by the nurse’s station.” She opened the door and departed.
“Well, sweet pea, we’ll talk and you can listen. How’s that?”
“Stephen said we can get a puppy when you come home,” Duff blurted.
Stephen shot the lad a warning glance.
“Well, you did say you would think about us getting a dog.”
“And I will. Think about it.” Stephen chuckled.
Jillian was truly amazed at how easily Stephen and the children had adapted to modern life. The transition wasn’t always smooth, but amazing just the same.
“So, Keita. I thought we would celebrate your birthday after you’re completely healed,” Jillian said, wanting the child to have something special to look forward to while recovering from her surgery.
“We are changelings,” Duff said. “No one kens when we were born.”
“You are not changelings,” Stephen said. “You are our bairns as is Malcolm.”
Jillian sniffled to keep tears at bay. Both she and Stephen loved the children. She rubbed her rounded belly with her free hand. The children would be raised as brothers and sister to the child she would birth in another four months. “As soon as Keita is well, we will see a man who will make the adoption official.”
“Then I want to have a birthday, too.” The boy’s grin was contagious.
“So you will.” She smiled at Stephen and he returned her admiration. “When Keita comes home from the hospital, you can both pick days from the calendar to claim as your birthdate.”
Stephen clasped Keita’s other hand and both he and Jillian grasped Duff’s hands, creating a circle of love.
EPILOGUE
Five years later
Whispering Pines Inn, Anderson Creek, North Carolina
Jillian swayed with the music as Keita swirled past, dancing with Duff. Stephen came up from behind and wrapped strong arms around her waist.
“Let us slip away.” His breath teased the fine hairs at the back of her neck.
“We can’t leave our daughter’s birthday ceilidh. She’ll only be eleven once.”
“She will understand.”
“No she won’t. She’s too young.”
“Thank the good Lord. I dinnae ken what I will do when she starts dating. I shudder at the thought. She is too comely by far, and I have seen what the other fathers in the reenactment group go through with their teenage daughters.”
“Promise you won’t challenge the fellow Keita selects to a sword fight.”
“Pfff! ’Tis a thought, but I would most likely first need to teach the lad which end of the blade is pointed and sharp.”
Jillian turned within his arms and planted a sweet kiss on his lips. He took it deeper.
“Ahem.” Patrick interrupted.
Laurie joined them. “’Tis time to cut the cake.”
As they approached the table, five-year old Malcolm burst into the room, circled the dessert table, and skidded to a stop at a stern look from Stephen. Four-year-old Tevin followed in hot pursuit, tripped over Malcolm’s outstretched leg, and banged into the table. A pedestal plate of cookies fell over, some of the cookies landing on the cake. Malcolm smirked and Tevin looked mortified.
Oh dear. A grim frown curved the lips Jillian had just been kissing. Stephen would scold the boys. There would be feigned tears on Malcolm’s part. Real tears from Tevin.
“Sorry, Da,” Malcolm said in a rush.
Keita hurried over and squatted in front of Tevin, offering sisterly love as she often did when Malcolm got the better of his younger brother. She grasped Tevin’s rounded shoulders. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She reached up to the table, grabbed a cookie, swiped it through the cake icing, and took a bite. “See, Tev. Tastes great.”
Malcolm followed her example and popped an iced-cookie in his mouth. “Yummy.”
Tevin’s eyes widened, and Keita handed him a coated cookie
. He shyly accepted her offering and bit into the sugary treat. He smiled adoringly at his big sister.
Jillian bit back a chuckle, and waved her hands at the boys. “Off with the two of you, but stay close.”
“Let’s play warrior and slay dragons in the garden,” Malcolm suggested.
Tevin nodded and the boys trotted out of the room. All previous offences forgotten.
Laurie burst out laughing. “You have your hands full, Jillian.”
Duff sailed past with three wooden swords tucked under an arm. “I’ll watch after them.”
“Keep them away from the garden gate and faerie mound,” Stephen warned, as if Duff wasn’t aware of the dangers.
Jillian glanced at Stephen and they shared a loving smile. They adored their four children.
* * *
On the morning after the party, at home, Jillian woke half-sprawled across Stephen’s chest, a hard-on poking her hip. She shifted her weight, and received a deep-throated growl in return.
She laughed and extended a leg over his waist, rising up, making ready to ride him. “I think you like it.”
“Oh, Aye. Good morrow to you, lass.” His blue gaze burned before he captured her lips, tongue delving deep for a tantalizing kiss.
“Mmm. I love waking like this every morning. Have you been awake long?”
“Long enough to be mesmerized by your beauty.”
Perhaps they would conceive another child. They had room in their hearts for more than four. She wrapped a hand around his cock and guided him to the entrance of her womb. With a soft chuckle, she slid over his flesh, and together they soared around the universe.
As they always would.
AUTHOR NOTE
The Caves of the Gray Women are fictional. Smoo Cave in Durness, Scotland provided partial inspiration. Geothermal hot springs exist in England and Wales, but not in Scotland to my knowledge. If you know of hot springs located in Scotland, I’d love to hear about them.
Just Wait For Me (Highland Gardens Book 3) Page 22
