by Dee Davis
Slowly, his hand moved to the triangle of golden curls. It seemed to take forever. She held her breath, her heart pounding. He still suckled at her breast, teasing the nipple until it ached with need. His fingers stroked the softness that was her essence. Slow, smooth strokes. She clenched, and then he found the small nub and began to stroke it, quickly and lightly as a feather. Her legs were shaking. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Just when she thought she would explode, his fingers moved, inward, upward, thrusting, stroking deep inside her. His mouth moved back to hers, his tongue matching his fingers stroke for stroke. She pushed hard against his fingers, wanting more. Her hands reached downward, fumbling in her need to find him. And still he thrust, pressing and stroking.
He felt her hand close around him. Her fingers moved slowly along the length of his shaft. He moved his fingers deep inside her, feeling her wet hotness surround him. He ached with the need to be inside her. He felt her shudder and knew her climax was near. He moved away briefly, placing a knee between her legs. She gasped and opened for him, arching upward in invitation. He braced his elbows on either side of her and looked deep into her eyes.
"You are mine. You have always been mine."
And with one long stroke, he was inside her. She was hot and tight and he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. The intensity of his feelings amazed him. He felt a deep and primal need to possess her, not just in this moment but forever. She reached for him, her hands tangling in his hair, a soft cry coming from deep in her throat. The sound of it heightened his pleasure. He smiled at her and slowly pulled away.
She writhed beneath him, trying frantically to pull him back. She needed him more than she needed to breathe. Just when she thought she'd scream from wanting him, he thrust into her again, his heat searing her. They moved together, locked in their own private rhythm. The fire consumed her. Her thoughts whirled and feelings more powerful than any she could remember came over her in wave after wave. She felt like exploding, like screaming. It was pure liquid fire. And then she felt his fingers again on the center of her desire. As she lost all control, she wound her fingers in the smooth blackness of his hair. She arched her hips against him and felt herself splinter into tiny pieces of light.
He felt her shudders and the tightening deep within her. She cried out as he began to thrust harder and deeper. He closed his eyes, and color filled the darkness. He felt the world spin, and then felt only sensations. Sensations that built and burned until in a single moment the world exploded and he emptied his seed in spasms of pure joy.
She locked her legs around him, holding him to her, trying to bind them forever. He kissed her again, but with tenderness and gentleness. The fire had been released, leaving glowing warmth. He rolled to his side, pulling her with him, staying connected, face-to-face. Her breathing was calmer, but still coming in small gasps. Her hand stroked the skin of his cheek, feeling the roughness of his whiskers. She felt as though her heart was full enough to burst. Tears slid down her cheeks. And still she looked into his eyes, held there by emotions she'd had no idea she could feel.
He watched as tears rolled down the gentle curve of her cheek. He reached with a tender touch to wipe them away. He knew suddenly that he would never survive losing her again. She was as necessary to him as air and water. He pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin. He felt the warmth of her breath against his chest.
She sighed and snuggled into his arms. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was afraid. Afraid that tomorrow he would be only a dream. Afraid, too, of what it meant if he wasn't a dream. She pushed these thoughts back into the recesses of her subconscious mind and closed her eyes, content for the moment in the knowledge that they were together.
He felt her relax against him. Instinctively his arms tightened around her. He would hold her safely through the night. As he breathed in the sweet scent of her hair, he vowed silently to hold her not only this night, but all others as well. They were connected in a way he could not completely comprehend, but he knew that she was his, indeed had been his from that moment eight years ago when she had appeared at his bedside. This time he would not let her go.
And so, surrounded by love and still joined, they slept.
*****
Katherine rolled to her side, curling into the warmth of the bed as she slowly drifted from sleep to wakefulness. She sighed and stretched, reveling in the feel of her body, a body that had been well loved. The thought brought instant clarity as she remembered the events of the night before.
Iain.
Her eyes flew open, searching for his face. The pillow next to hers was empty. She reached out with trembling fingers and touched the place where he had slept. Cold. Oh God, another dream. She sat up, the covers slipping to her waist, panic making her heart race.
"Ah, you're awake." The deep voice came from the alcove.
Katherine turned and saw that he was standing there, back to the window, smiling tenderly at her. She heaved a sigh, her relief making her feel giddy. Or maybe it was the sight of him. He was magnificent, his body hard and seasoned, the body of a warrior. Her breath caught in her throat. A tremor of desire whipped through her. They had loved long into the night, sleeping fitfully, only to awaken and love again. Yet, she found she still wanted him.
"I dinna even know your name."
Katherine blushed furiously, trying to gather her thoughts. What a loose woman he must think her to sleep with a complete stranger not once but twice. Backing into the far corner of the bed, she frantically pulled the bed covering up to her chin, gnawing on her bottom lip, unwilling to look at him, to see the condemnation she was certain was there in his eyes.
"I..." The words died as she felt him sit beside her, one strong hand beneath her chin, tipping her face up toward his.
"Names are no' important, mo chridhe—my heart. Our souls know each other. Aye, I think they have know each other for a very long time."
Embarrassment died as she looked deeply into his clear green eyes. The emotion she saw reflected there started her heart pounding again.
"My name is Katherine St. Claire." Her voice was shaking.
"Ah, Katherine," he said sighing. "I am Iain Mackintosh of Duncreag."
Even as he spoke, his lips moved closer to hers, his breath warm on her cheek.
"Iain." She whispered his name and melted into his kiss.
*****
Sunlight poured through the window when next they awoke. Katherine could feel the warm weight of Iain's leg against her thigh. She rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. It was all pretty amazing. Here she was lying in bed with a man she really didn't know, in a castle in the middle of the Scottish Highlands, probably in the Middle Ages, and instead of being out of her mind with fear and worry, she was feeling as contented as a cat. She felt Iain shift and turned to meet his probing green gaze.
" 'Tis morning. I feared you would be gone." He ran the back of his hand along her cheek. She nuzzled into his touch, running her hand idly through the coarse hair on his chest.
"No. I'm here. But I don't know if this is real. I'm afraid it's another dream and I'll wake up and you'll be gone. If that were to happen ..." Her voice caught. She swallowed, trying to hold back her tears. "Iain, if that were to happen, I'm not sure I could bear it."
He sat up, pulling her with him so that she rested against the broad expanse of his chest. She felt the rhythm of his breathing and let the motion sooth her.
"Hush now, mo chridhe, you must no' think of such things. This is real. We're together. And I'm no' letting anything keep us apart again."
She leaned into him, comforted by his words even if she didn't quite believe him. She closed her eyes, trying to find the courage to ask questions she wasn't completely sure she wanted answered.
"Iain?" She took a deep breath. "Are we at Duncreag?"
He rumbled his assent and tightened his arm around her.
"Okay, then, here's the twenty-four-thousand-dollar question. When are we? I mean,
what year is it?"
She waited, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
" 'Tis the spring of fourteen hundred and sixty-seven."
Katherine's head swam. 1467. Oh Lord, 1467. She was grateful that Iain's arm was around her. She thought she'd been prepared for his answer, but the reality was more frightening than she had ever imagined. She jerked around to look at him. "I'm not from here, Iain. And I've no idea how I got here."
Iain looked steadily at her, taking her trembling hands in his. "Katherine, I know naught of where you're from, and I canna say how you came to be in my home. But, by the Saints, 'tis grateful I am to whatever power brought you here. And I'll no' question my good fortune too closely."
"Iain, listen to me. It's more than where I'm from." She tightened her fingers around his. "It's when I'm from. When I went to bed last night, it was here in Duncreag, but it was Duncreag more than five hundred years from now."
Katherine held his gaze, willing him to understand and not turn away from her in fear or disbelief.
"Well," Iain shrugged philosophically, pulling her back into his arms. "At least you're no' a fairy."
Chapter 11
JEFF TOWELED HIS hair dry, raking his fingers through it in lieu of a comb. Ah, what a beautiful day. Sunlight streamed through the open window, the sounds of birds filling the crisp morning air. Jeff drew a deep cleansing breath and pulled on his jeans. Here he was in Scotland, in the middle of an architectural wonderland. Things couldn't be any better. Well, he mentally corrected himself, there was the small problem of his sister and her visions from the past. But hey, on a day like today even that didn't seem so bad.
Jeff smiled at himself in the mirror as he glopped shaving cream on his face. Humming an off-key version of "Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin'," he twisted his mouth to the left and began to shave. Elaine was coming today. Jeff yelped as he nicked himself. Grabbing a towel, he dabbed ineffectually at the small cut.
The truth was he didn't know exactly what he felt for Elaine. Lust certainly. No red-blooded male could look at Elaine's voluptuous curves and not feel some degree of lust. But there was more to it than that. He had known Elaine since Katherine started graduate school. The two girls had been inseparable, which meant that Elaine had spent most holidays with the St. Claires in Connecticut.
Then he'd taken a job with a firm in New York, and the threesome had remained intact. Jeff tried to remember exactly when his feelings for Elaine had changed from those for his kid sister's tag-along friend to, well, whatever it was now. All he knew for sure was that he was looking forward to spending time with her. He wiped the remaining flecks of shaving cream from his face, giving himself a quick salute in the mirror. Fingers crossed, Elaine might actually be interested in him, too. Katherine hadn't said anything directly, but she had certainly hinted broadly enough.
Pulling on a blue polo shirt, Jeff grabbed his keys and bounded out the door, his humming changing to full-fledged singing. Well, maybe not singing exactly, since a person had to be able to carry a tune to sing, a talent he had never been blessed with. But then no one was around to hear him except Katherine, and by now she was used to his voice. Taking the stairs two at a time, he descended to Katherine's floor. He smiled at a maid and rapped three times on the door, humming again now in deference to the maid's ears.
"She's not there, sir."
Jeff swung around to look at the maid. "Excuse me?"
"I said she's not there. I was just in the room. It's empty. Maybe she's already gone down for breakfast."
Jeff felt a little niggling of worry, but promptly pushed it aside. They'd agreed to meet at ten. He looked at his watch, noting it was already fifteen after. Maybe she'd gotten tired of waiting. He thanked the girl and made his way down to the great hall.
However, save a solitary diner at a corner table, the hall was empty. No Katherine. Again, Jeff felt a tickle of concern. But the smell of sausages and eggs called to him. Katherine was probably just taking a walk somewhere. She'd dash in any minute, he assured himself, breathless and apologizing for being late, then she'd throw herself into the chair and proceed to tell him all about last night's adventures with Fantasy Man. Jeff smiled at the thought, all worry successfully banished.
A cheerful woman in a checkered apron delivered a basket of hot breads. What had Katherine called them? Bann something. He was in the process of buttering his third when the waitress brought a plate heaped with sausages and poached eggs. Jeff smiled as he dug in. Yes, this was definitely turning out to be a wonderful day.
*****
Two hours later, after having seen neither hide nor hair of his sister, he was beginning to reassess his position. He'd looked everywhere—the gift shop, the chapel museum, the lobby, the gardens, even the battlements, though he'd known he wouldn't find her there. He'd been in her room and had discovered that her purse was still there, along with her keys and her wallet. Her watch was on the dresser with her other jewelry. In fact, the only thing he recognized as missing was the cairngorm earring she wore as a pendant. The slight concern that he had brushed aside that morning was blossoming into a bigger worry, although the absence of the necklace meant nothing, since Katherine rarely, if ever, removed it from around her neck.
Another hour passed with no sign of Katherine, and Jeff's worry was swiftly becoming full-fledged panic. What if Katherine was right about the gateway? What if she truly was linked with this Iain fellow? Jeff ran a hand through his hair and tried to think rationally. Nobody traveled through time. It simply wasn't possible.
So then where the heck was his sister? He retraced his steps, stopping to check all the rooms along the way to make sure he hadn't missed her somehow. But by the time he arrived back at Katherine's room, he still had yet to see any sign of her. He sat on the bed, feeling frustration blend with despair.
"Katherine! Where are you?"
The words seemed to echo through the room finally, fading away to leave a silence broken only by the ticking of the travel alarm.
*****
Elaine shoved her sunglasses onto her head and pushed the strap of her travel case back over her shoulder. With a sigh, she slammed the trunk of her rental car and bent down to pick up the suitcase at her feet. Where were bellboys when you needed them? Hey, she'd even settle for one of Katherine's medieval men. Looking at Duncreag, it was easy enough to imagine one. The tower house was certainly imposing. Its stones looked almost white in the glare of the afternoon sun.
Elaine trudged over the rough cobblestones in the drive. This was not exactly the entrance she'd been planning. She had pictured it more along the lines of Jeff waiting anxiously for her to appear and then pulling her into his arms while swarms of bellhops carried her luggage away to be deposited in their suite. Elaine smiled at herself. It seemed Katherine wasn't the only one with wild dreams.
Spying the small sign with the word 'Lobby' printed on it, Elaine reached for the heavy wooden door. It swung open with surprising ease. She stepped inside, then dumped her bags against the wall by the door. She surveyed the room and was pleased to see that it was indeed the lobby. There was a desk in the corner that Elaine supposed was where one checked in. Unfortunately, there didn't appear to be anyone around to facilitate the process. She crossed to the desk and idly examined a stack of postcards showing the tower at its imposing best, waiting for someone to notice she was there.
"Hello. May I help you?"
Elaine put down the cards as she turned in the direction of the voice. A ruddy-faced man in cords and a Shetland sweater was just coming out of a small hallway.
"Um, yes, please. I've only just arrived. I believe you're expecting me?"
"Well, I'm afraid I wouldn't know about that. My wife handles all the reservations. I'm Jamie Abernathy." He held out a hand.
"Elaine Macqueen."
"I'm supposed to handle the books and such, but to tell you the truth, Agnes doesn't really need my help. I think she only gives me things to do so that I'll feel useful. You wait right her
e and I'll go and fetch her for you."
Before he had even walked two steps, the outside door opened and what could only be described as a small whirlwind of energy burst into the room.
"Ah, Jamie love, there you are. I was out by the west wall and I noticed that the sign for the car park has come loose again. Would you mind having a look? I'd hate for it to come completely off the wall and fall onto one of the guests' cars. I'd imagine it's big enough to break a window."
The whirlwind took the form of an older woman. Her face was red with exertion and her gray hair curled every which way.
"Fine, love, I'll just go and check." Mr. Abernathy waved a hand in Elaine's direction. "I've just been chatting with our new guest." With that, he ambled off down the hallway.
Mrs. Abernathy bustled around behind the desk, a picture of enthusiasm and efficiency. "You must be Katherine and Jeffrey's friend. Elaine, isn't it?"
Elaine smiled at the use of Jeff's full name. No one called him Jeffrey. "Yes. I'm later than I expected, I'm afraid. There was a bit of a mix-up with the rental car reservation. But I'm here now. Safe and sound."
Mrs. Abernathy eyed Elaine with friendly curiosity. "You're Scottish." It was a statement, not a question.
"Half. My father is from Inverness, but my mother is American. We've lived in the States since I was a teenager."
"So you have dual citizenship then?"
"Well, yes, but I guess I think of myself as an American. Most of my family is there. And I have my law practice."
"You're an attorney? How lovely. What type of law do you practice?"
"I'm an A.D.A."
Mrs. Abernathy looked puzzled.
"Sorry, assistant district attorney. I prosecute criminals."
