“Ah, but I didn’t die that day. I was able to keep my head upon my shoulders, and I’ve been working hard to return to ye ever since.” Studying the fading bruises marring her beloved face, Fáelán traced a finger along the cut on her brow. “Ye’ll have a scar here,” he whispered, kissing the wound. “’Tis a badge of courage to remind me of all ye’ve done for us.”
“Y-you’re really here?” she whispered, a dazed look upon her face.
“Aye. The curse is no more, and Morrigan can no longer hurt us.”
“You killed her?” Regan’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean to leave Mananán’s magic sword behind, but now I’m glad I did.” She lifted her chin, a look of satisfaction flickering over her features.
Fáelán laughed. “Nay, I did not kill her, my bloodthirsty bride-to-be. Her father bound her magic and imprisoned her. He also placed a ward of protection upon me and mine, preventing any further mischief should Morrigan somehow escape.” Fáelán brushed his lips across hers, and his blood heated at the sudden intake of her breath. “Alas, I am no longer immortal. King Lir assured me I have been restored to my natural state.”
“I’m glad.” She studied him, her expression hopeful, vulnerable. “Your bride-to-be?”
His poor heart turned inside out. “Aye, if ye’ll have me, my wee brave Fiann. Do ye still love me, Regan?”
“Of course I still love you.” Her voice quavered. “I’m just . . . still having trouble believing you’re really here. I thought I’d lost you.”
He’d expire if he couldn’t have her soon. They were alone in a sacred place, with the sun just beginning its ascent. “If ’tis proof ye are needin’, that I can provide.” Fáelán placed his hands upon her hips and drew her close. “I’ve something in mind, love—a new sun salutation of the sensuous sort.” He pressed his erection against her, eliciting a husky laugh.
Fáelán covered her mouth with his and kissed her deeply, reveling in the way she tasted, the way her curves fitted against him so perfectly. He came up for air and tightened his arms around her, pressing her breasts against his chest. “’Twould be a shame to waste the yoga mat already laid out for us, aye?”
“You want to . . . uhm . . . here, where someone might see us?”
He nuzzled her temple. “Did ye not tell me the park doesn’t open until nine, and . . .” He swallowed against the welling emotions overpowering him. “Ye aren’t the only one who needs proof this is real, mo a lómhar. We’re together at long last, and I’m so in love with ye. After all I’ve been through, the empty years spent in captivity, is it any wonder I can scarce believe I’ve been granted this chance at happiness? I need ye, Regan. I need your arms around me, and I need to feel our bodies and souls joined.”
She encircled his waist, laid her head against his shoulder and melted into him. “Go on then,” she told him. “All right. Prove to me this is real. Prove to me we’re together in the same place and in the same century.” She kissed his neck and then nipped and sucked at the same spot.
He hissed out a breath. His pulse quickened; heat surged, and he kissed her again, running his palms down her sides to the curve of her waist. Soon, very soon, she’d be large with their babe growing inside her, and knowing so filled him with pride and fanned his desire to a fever pitch.
“I love ye with all my heart, Regan MacCarthy,” he rasped, scooping her into his arms and carrying her to the yoga mat. He lowered himself to the mat and placed her gently at the center. “Let me show ye how much.”
Smiling, she nodded. He rose, took off his cloak and spread it over her. “Do ye recall how ye draped your cloak over me after tying me to the tree and forcing me to spend the night outside in the cold?”
“How could I forget your hostile glare, or your total lack of recognition?”
As he stripped out of his clothes, he told her, “I started having strange dreams after ye left, and ye were in them all. I’d call to ye, but ye would not turn toward me.” Fáelán slid under the blanket he’d made of his cloak. “Then Fionn gave me this awful potion to drink, and all of my memories came back to me.”
“Talk later. Proof now.” Regan drew him to her for a kiss.
Chuckling low in his throat, Fáelán deepened the kiss and helped her out of her clothing, fondling and tasting her bare skin as he removed one garment at a time. “Ah, but I love the way ye feel.” He caressed the curve of her hip and pressed against her. “And I love the way ye smell.” He groaned, cupping one delectable breast whilst kissing the other. Regan gasped and arched into him, and he was lost in the delight of reacquainting himself with each of her curves and her velvety-soft skin so warm to his touch. He brought his hand between her thighs, opened her folds to touch the slick, welcoming heat of her core.
Regan explored his body as well, driving him mad. And when she stroked his erection, and then squeezed, all thought ceased and he nearly came.
“I want you, Fáelán.” Regan sighed into his ear. She took the lobe between her teeth and nipped, while fondling his balls.
A shiver of pleasure racked through him, and he covered her. Settling himself between her thighs, he gazed at her. “I love ye, Regan. Ye alone own my heart, and from this day forward, everything I do will be for ye and our family.”
He entered her, coming home at last. There was nothing between them, just he and Regan, skin to skin, heart to heart and soul to soul. He swore the strands of their lives intertwined then, beginning to weave the rich tapestry of their lives together. Their past, present and future converged, sealing the deep bond between them for all time.
Fáelán thrust into her heat, faster and harder. She moaned and writhed beneath him. Crying out his name, she came apart, pulsing around him, and he was filled with awe. A tender protectiveness washed through him as he followed her over the edge, mindless and shuddering with his release. He collapsed beside her and pulled her into his arms. “Mo a choíche grá,” he whispered into her ear. “My forever love, I am home at last.”
“My forever love,” she whispered back, running her hands up and down his back.
Content to the very marrow of his bones, he wrapped himself around the center of his world and kissed the tender spot behind her ear. “Ye’ve a crowded town house in Howth.”
“Mmm.”
“Boann is there, awaiting our return.”
“Mmm?” She snuggled closer.
He grinned. “We should dress, love. We’ve things to do, aye?”
She let loose a long sigh. “I suppose.”
He threw off his cloak and reached for his tunic. “Who were ye talking to when I arrived?”
“Two of your Fianna buddies, only they were definitely dead and not cursed. Both died in a battle near here.”
Had they fought with Fionn the day his captain was slain? As they dressed and gathered Regan’s things, he recalled all the good folk he’d left in the past, and those he would soon be reunited with in the present. Glancing at his woman, he thought about the new life she carried, and the family of his own he’d soon have to love and protect. “Ye never said, Regan.”
“Said what?” She hoisted the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder.
He rolled up her yoga mat and tucked it under one arm. “Whether or not ye’d have me.”
She laughed. “I’m pretty sure I just did, and I’m hoping I’ll have you again tonight, only in a bed.”
He reached out his hand, and she twined her fingers in with his. “Don’t tease me, mo a grá. I need to know. Will ye be my wife?”
Love shone bright in her lovely gray eyes as she gazed at him. She squeezed his hand. “I will.”
“Where shall we live, mo a míorúilt lómhar?”
“In the present.” She leaned close and kissed his cheek. “Right here and now.”
Epilogue
Three months later, County Waterford, Ireland
Regan sat at the vanity in the bride’s room of the two hundred-year-old stone church. This church on the outskirts of Waterford had been attende
d by Fáelán’s family for generations. She stared into the mirror while her mother placed her wedding veil upon her head. Turning her head left and right, she checked to see that it was straight. “Perfect, Mom. Thanks.”
Her mother stepped back, her eyes growing overly bright. “Beautiful. You positively glow, Regan, with happiness and from pregnancy.” She sniffed and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re going to live an ocean away. I’ll hardly ever get the chance to see you, my new son-in-law or my first grandchild.”
Regan’s eyes misted too. “We’ll visit often, and with the Ahearns moving into a cottage in town, we’ll have room enough for you and the entire family to visit whenever you want. In fact, I expect all of you to visit when Baby O’Boyle arrives.”
Jim and Kathryn’s decision to buy a home of their own had come as a shock to Fáelán. Her poor Fiann had moped for days. Now that he was finally free to live his life, he had a need to surround himself with his family. Boann came and went as she pleased. All she had to do to fit in was to dress in modern clothing and dim the brilliance of her aqua eyes. Speaking of her soon-to-be stepdaughter . . . “What’s taking Boann so long?” She’d sent her off to make sure everything was going smoothly, and that they’d begin on time. A frisson of excitement shot through her, and she glanced at her engagement ring, an emerald-cut diamond set on a band of gold etched with Celtic knots. Fáelán had placed it on her finger a week after his return.
“She only left a minute ago.” Meredith met her eyes in the mirror. “I’m sure she’ll be back with Dad in tow any minute. You look absolutely gorgeous, Rae.”
Regan grinned. “So do you and Grayce.” Meredith, Grayce and Boann were her attendants, while Fáelán had Jim and two other of his nephews to stand with him.
Grayce turned and primped in front of the full-length mirror. The attendants wore elegant navy-blue knee-length, off-the-shoulder silk crepe dresses, while Regan’s wedding gown was similar in style and fabric, only full length. Her baby bump had just begun to show slightly. “Did I tell you Fáelán and I have leased a Georgian town house in Dublin? I’m turning one room into a yoga studio, and I’ll teach prenatal yoga classes there while he works on his PhD in archaeology at UCD. We’ll stay in Dublin during the week and in Waterford on the weekends and breaks.”
“Uh . . . yes, like three times now.” Grayce laughed.
“I was talking to Mom.” She shot her sister a disgruntled look.
“That sounds wonderful,” her mom said. “What about the important work we do? With your gifts, you need to make yourself available to—”
“No. I don’t. I’m not advertising as a ghost whisperer, Mom. If I happen upon a confused spirit, I’ll facilitate their crossing, but that’s it.”
“Oh.” Her mom frowned.
“I intend to focus on my family and my life. You know how it can be. You let someone know, help them find closure, help their deceased to cross, and pretty soon, everyone is at your door, wanting you to get rid of the ghosts or other beings in their houses, or wanting to talk to their dearly departed. I can’t do it anymore. I won’t.”
“But we were given these gifts so we could help those in need. We have a—”
“No, we weren’t.” Grayce snorted. “We have these abilities because one of our ancestors shacked up with a faerie and gave birth to a child who was half fae.”
A soft knock on the door, and Boann walked in, followed by Regan’s father. “It’s time,” Boann announced. Her smile lit up the room, and her bridesmaid’s dress set off her extraordinary beauty.
“Are you ready?” her father asked.
Regan nodded. Her heart racing, she accepted her bouquet from Meredith and took her father’s arm. Her mother stood in place on Regan’s other side, and her attendants lined up behind her. The church’s ancient pipe organ began playing music, signaling the wedding march would start as soon as she appeared at the entrance.
Her father patted her hand and leaned close. “Breathe, sweetheart. You don’t want to faint halfway down the aisle, like someone else we know.” He flashed a wry grin her mom’s way.
“We’ve been married for thirty years, Gene.” Her mother huffed out a breath and shot him a mock scowl. “How long will it take before you let me live that down?”
“If we’re lucky, another thirty years or so.”
Her parents exchanged a look so full of love, a lump rose to Regan’s throat. She had that with Fáelán—the kind of love that would last a lifetime, and she couldn’t wait to say “I do.” She and her family made their way down the short hallway to take their places. Regan once again lost the ability to draw air into her lungs as she caught sight of the man she loved enough to brave faeries and traveling back through time.
He was so very handsome and distinguished in his tux, with his hair neatly pulled back. Was she really marrying a man who had lived for nearly two thousand years—a man who had been born in the third century? She smiled and blinked against the tears of joy filling her eyes.
The wedding march began, and she started down the aisle. Their gazes met and locked, and he winked. Happiness and certainty bubbled up, even as her knees went weak. Why, yes, she was marrying a man from the distant past, and she knew without a doubt they’d live happily ever after in the present.
Dear Readers
There are many perspectives and theories about the space-time continuum. Since Einstein identified time as the fourth dimension, the science community has argued that there are anywhere from ten to twenty-six dimensions. All agree, however, that time is not flat, linear or one-directional. In fact, physicists at the University of Queensland, Australia, were able to send light particles into the past, proving that time travel is possible.
For the purposes of this book, I went with a simplified version of the multiverse theory. The simplest explanation for this theory came to me through a documentary on public television. Physicists explain there are a finite number of elements in the universe, and these elements combine in different ways to make up all matter. Think of these elements as a deck of cards, and start dealing poker hands over and over with that same deck. If you keep dealing, you’re going to get duplicate hands.
Scientists posit the same occurs with the finite number of elements. As the elements continue to be “dealt,” duplicates are inevitable. Duplicate universes must therefore exist. Duplicate planets able to sustain life must exist. And as DNA is also continually dealt, duplicates of ourselves must also exist.
The Tuatha Dé Danann in my fantasy world understand time and how it works, and they know about alternate realities. So when King Lir tells Morrigan, “Upon one weft in the tapestry of time,” what he’s saying is: in another reality you did X, Y and Z. Even though another’s actions may have created a new thread in the weave of time, the old one still exists and continues.
For the purposes of this story, nothing that happens anywhere upon the time continuum can be erased; it can only be forgotten. Neuropsychologists have proven we don’t lose our memories; we simply lose the ability to retrieve them. This worked for my imaginary world. So, yes, somewhere in time, our duplicate hero still struggles, and that’s OK, because he too will eventually find his miracle.
Acknowledgments
They say it takes a village to raise a child, and the same can be said for raising a “child of the mind”—a story. I’ve worked with the same incredible critique partners for over a decade, and a big thank-you goes to Tamara Hughes and Wyndemere Coffey for your insightfulness and friendship! I want to also thank the Montlake Romance crew for giving Tangled in Time a home, and a special shout-out to Melody Guy, my developmental editor, and to the thorough line and copy editors who have helped whip this story into shape! Finally, I want to thank my readers, because you all make this writing journey a joy.
Glossary
Fionn MacCumhaill (FEE-on Mac-Koo-uhl)—Legendary descendant of the fae king Nuada of the Silver Hand. As a youth, Fionn caught and ate “the salmon of knowledge�
� and became enlightened. He went on to become a great leader of men, and he commanded the Fianna, an elite army formed to protect Ireland from foreign invaders during the third century.
Fiann (FEE-un)—a single soldier in Fionn’s army
Fianna (Fee-AH-nuh)—plural term referring to Fionn’s army as a whole
Fenian(s) (Fen-ee-un[s])—Another term for the Fianna, referring to their multiple campfires burning across the island during the summer months. The fires were said to resemble the stars in the night sky, and so the term Fenians refers to that phenomena.
Tuatha Dé Danann (Too-wuh Day Duh-NANN)—The children of the goddess Danu, mythical demigods who came to Ireland in a ship in the clouds, bringing with them several magical items.
Duma na nGiall (Doo-muh nuh nGill)—the Mound of the Hostages
WORDS AND PHRASES
Álainn (AW-lin)—beauty
An bhfuil Gaeilge agat? An dtuigeann tú? (Ahn weel Gae-Al-guh a-gat? An tee-gun too?)—Do you have the Irish? Do you understand?
Buíchas le dia. (Bwee-uh-has le dee-yuh)—Thank God.
Cá bhfuill sí? (Kaw weel shee)—Where is she?
Cén chaoi a bhfuil tú? (Ken heh uh weel too)—How are you?
Dia dhuit (Dzee-uh rit)—hello
Go raigh maith agat (Ga rah mah a-gat)—thank you
Mo a athair (Muh ayhar)—my father
Mo a cailín (Muh cah-LEEN)—my girl
Mo a choíche grá (Muh kee-keh graw)—my forever love
Mo a grá (Muh graw)—my love
Mo a iníon (Muh i-neen)—my daughter
Mo a míorúilt ansa (Muh meerroolt AN-sa)—my dearest miracle
Mo a míorúilt lómhar (Muh meerroolt low-war)—my precious miracle
Níl sí anseo, athair. (Neel shee awn-shah, ayhar)—She is not here, Father.
Scáil (Skawl)—ghost
Sidhe (Shee)—Originally, this word referred to the mounds under which the fae were banished to dwell, but over time it has come to mean anything referring to the fae.
Tangled in Time (The McCarthy Sisters) Page 27
