“For how long?” she asked.
Those wide shoulders moved in a lazy shrug as if her question were of no consequence. “For however long it takes.”
She shook her head, despite the tremors racking her body. “I can’t do that. I have classes. Obligations.”
“You will stay.”
Emma lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. She never had been one to follow orders easily. Even when it was the logical, rational thing to do. “You can’t make me.”
Bain smiled at her as he walked stealthily across the room. “I can and I will. Where would you go for help if not to me? The police? They’d think you crazy. Lock you away and then the demon would have you.”
“Damn it.” He was right. But that wasn’t her only option. She could catch a plane and—
“Would you think to run to your home in America? Would you lead the demon to your family?”
She glared at him. “How are you doing that? Reading my mind?”
“For you, Emma Campbell,” he said, not bothering to answer the question, “there is no one but me.”
“Madison,” she corrected absently, hating to admit that he was right. She couldn’t very well take a plane to California, leading Derek right to her family’s door. “My name is Madison. My mother was a Campbell before she married.”
He sneered and in that movement she saw him as he should have been. Standing on a Highland mountain, hair blowing in a cold wind, bare, muscular legs braced wide apart, a kilt flapping at his knees and his plaid tossed over one shoulder. The image in her mind was so real, so detailed, it was more like a memory than imagination.
Oh, Emma had read plenty of books with Highland heroes, and Bain Sinclair was the personification of every one of them. Arrogant. Proud. Determined. Funny that she’d never before realized how annoying those traits would be in real life.
“The Campbells have been known for treachery since time began,” he said, sneer still in place. “Diluting that blood through marriage does not change it. I knew many of your clan in the Highlands where I grew up, and learned early never to trust one of them. Tell me, then, why I should trust you.”
“Nobody asked you to trust me,” she reminded him. “You’re the one who carried me out of the university library and brought me here. You’re the one who’s insisting I stay. I don’t even know you. Why should I trust you?”
His lip curled, defining that sneer of his even further. “As I’m the one who saved your pretty backside from a hungering demon, I’m thinking I’ve earned the right to demand the trust of a Campbell. Yet, I warn you. If there’s a Campbell involved in demon treachery,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken, “I’ll discover the truth of it. You can no more hide the truth of it than you can hide the blood that runs in your veins.”
Emma refused to have this conversation sitting at his feet and looking up at him. She stood, stabbed her index finger at him and said, “My mother is a Campbell and is one of the nicest human beings on the planet. Don’t you talk about her like that. And while we’re at it, I’m the one who should be worried about trusting you.”
“I’ll remind you yet again that I saved your beautiful hide, didn’t I?”
Beautiful? Not to mention pretty backside? She shook her head. Concentrate, Emma.
“I could have handled him myself,” she argued. “Eventually.”
He laughed and the sound nearly rattled the windowpanes. “Lie to yourself all you want, woman. But don’t expect me to believe it. You were a tasty morsel to the demon and well you know it. If not for me—”
“Which begs the question,” Emma interrupted, “what were you doing there, anyway? How come you were so handy to the scene? For all I know you were working with Derek the Troll.”
“You accuse me of being in league with a demon?” He looked astonished at the idea.
“How do I know?” She waved one hand at him. “You’re the one carrying a sword for God’s sake. You’re the one who kidnapped me. I didn’t ask for any of this. And besides, we know I wasn’t working with that thing. It almost killed me, remember?”
“He could have, but didn’t,” Sinclair told her, studying her carefully as if looking for some sign that she was what she claimed to be. She saw wary suspicion in his eyes and Emma stiffened. “He wanted something from you.”
“Well, I don’t know what. What could a demon want with me, anyway? I’m a student, for pity’s sake,” she muttered, then narrowed her eyes on him. “And I’m pretty darn disappointed in Scotland, let me tell you. I’ve dreamed about coming here all my life and never once did I dream about demons. I thought this was going to be a fun trip to a gorgeous place and all of a sudden it’s a nightmare.”
“Edinburgh is not all of Scotland,” he said, dismissing the ancient city with another of his sneers. “’Tis a city like any other, with too many people and too many cars and too much noise for a man to think. There’s good and bad here, like any other city of its kind. If you want beauty, you must go to my true home. The Highlands.”
For one brief moment, her heart fluttered. It was the way he said the word Highlands. Like a man missing a lover. She heard his affection for the place in his tone and knew that this at least was one thing they shared. Emma had been reading about and dreaming of the Highlands of Scotland for as long as she could remember. But she only said, “You’re no Highlander. You don’t talk like one.”
He frowned at her. “How am I supposed to speak, then, lass?”
“You know—” she waved one hand at him “—doona, dinna, canna, willna…”
He stared at her for a long minute and the flames crackling in the hearth were the only sound in the room beyond the pounding of her own heart. Then he laughed again. He threw his head back, planted both fists on his hips and laughed loud and long, the booming music of his laughter echoing off the walls, the ceiling and settling down over her like a warm blanket.
Despite her anger, Emma felt something inside her stir in response. Her blood heated, every nerve jangled in anticipation. There was something old within her. Something ancient. Something that recognized this man. She felt as though she’d been waiting for him. She didn’t understand, but as she watched him every cell in her body leaped to life as they never had before. She knew Bain Sinclair with a bone-deep knowledge that had no explanation.
She’d never experienced anything like this before. Emma’s earlier worries about being with him disappeared as she realized that through the fear and the worry and the confusion one thing rang clear in her mind. This man was where she belonged. This man was sanctuary.
This man was everything.
When his laughter finally died away, he looked down at her, still grinning, and Emma’s heart stuttered painfully in her chest.
“That’s foolishness, lass,” he said, looking directly into her eyes. His gaze was steady and so pale a blue Emma felt as though she were looking at pieces of the sky.
“No Highlander talks like that. At least, not anymore.” His smile faded as he led her to a nearby sofa, sat her down and then seated himself beside her. “Centuries ago, perhaps.” He looked toward the window, but his gaze was fixed on something much farther away than the night outside. “Many things were different then. We walked our land as kings and fought and held it against countless enemies. But times change and a wise man changes with them.”
“We? Centuries?” Her voice was a whisper. Her gaze locked on his profile as he seemed to stare into a past she could never fully understand. Was he really saying what she thought he was saying?
She swallowed hard. He spoke as if he’d seen those changes come and roll past. Had personally ridden the tide of history. It didn’t make sense, but then what about tonight’s happenings did? Why shouldn’t she be sitting in a veritable palace in Edinburgh with a Highlander who was as mystical and mysterious as the feelings he engendered inside her?
He turned his face to hers, looked deeply into her eyes and said only, “Aye, lass. Centuries.”
She me
t his gaze and saw the truth shining there at her. Of course he was centuries old. Of course he was part of the magic of Scotland. Breath caught in her lungs, she whispered, “How many?”
“Several.”
Her stomach did a quick pitch and roll before cautiously settling again. It seemed impossible, of course. No one lived forever. But what about that night so far had been possible? Emma gave herself a mental pat on the back for accepting this latest piece of craziness so easily. Was her brain just giving up the fight for logic? No, she thought, with another good look at Bain Sinclair. It wasn’t hard to believe in what he was saying because he was exactly the kind of man legends were built around.
He met her gaze squarely, silently, as if giving her time to adjust. But in a very weird way, knowing that he was centuries old made perfect sense. He was simply too male to be a modern-day man.
“You’re telling me you’ve lived hundreds of years.” Her gaze moved over his features, cataloging them carefully, etching the harsh planes and angles into her memory. Unnecessary, though, she thought, since a part of her recognized him. Knew him. He looked no more than thirty-five, yet his eyes were as ancient as time itself. “How is that possible?”
“I’m an immortal.”
“Immortal.” His features were calm, almost dispassionate, and she knew instinctively he wasn’t lying. She took a deep breath, blew it out and dragged in another one. “Oh, God.”
“I’ll not hurt you, Emma,” he said, then frowned slightly, “unless I find you’re in league with that demon, after all.”
“I’m not, but you…” She pushed both hands through her short, red hair and rubbed at her scalp as if she could somehow slow down her racing thoughts with a quick massage. “How—when—why?”
Still keeping his gaze locked on hers, he said softly, “I died in 1046 and was made an immortal Guardian. We few protect this world from the demons trying to destroy it.”
“Immortals. Demons,” she whispered, caught in the heat of those amazing eyes of his. “Guardians, for Pete’s sake. One of us is really crazy, Bain. And I don’t think it’s you. So what does that say about me?”
“That you’re a woman with a cool head on her shoulders,” he told her, one corner of his mouth tipping up. “One not willing to take things at surface truth. A woman who trusts her instincts.”
“Right.” She blew out a breath, scrubbed her hands up and down her forearms and felt the bandages he’d applied as soon as he’d brought her here. He’d saved her from Derek. Treated her cuts. Fed her. Was offering her protection. And now, he’d trusted her with a secret she knew instinctively he didn’t share with many others. She was being pulled into a world she never would have thought existed and somehow…it felt right.
“I don’t understand any of this,” she whispered. Emma looked at him and knew that everything he was saying was the absolute truth. But her heart was at war with her brain, that still screamed for logic.
Flames snapped and hissed in the hearth; somewhere in the house a grandfather clock bonged out the hour, and outside in the city the world rolled on. While Emma listened, Bain talked. He told her everything. Told her about life in the eleventh century. How he’d died at the hands of a Campbell who’d sold out their cause against the British for a handful of gold coins and a new castle.
She saw it all; the past was alive and vivid, as if she, too, had lived in the world he described. As if a part of her had always been with him.
Then he told her that at the moment of his death he’d met a being called Michael and was given a choice. His soul could continue on to whatever awaited it, or he could live as an immortal and battle evil through the centuries. Bain had accepted the challenge and made a home in the Highlands where he’d lived off and on for hundreds of years. This house, where they stayed in Edinburgh, belonged to another Guardian, Karras, who was off now on business of his own.
That was the only reason Bain was in the city. He was watching over the portals until Karras returned. Then Bain would go back to his home in the Highlands.
By the time he finished speaking, Emma’s head was spinning. She heard every word, watched his face, the shifting emotions flashing across his features as he told her of the passage of time. How he’d lived, alone, in a castle near his ancestral clan.
The Highlanders there didn’t ask questions of a man. Didn’t wonder why he never aged. The people there still believed in magic and the world of the Fae. They understood that not all of life was simple black and white and that there were no answers to some questions—so they didn’t ask them.
“And you live alone,” she said, feeling a tear in her heart at the thought of him existing in solitude for eons. Everything in her wanted to reach out to him. To somehow ease the loneliness that must be clawing at him. Surprised by the strength of her reaction to him, Emma tried to rein in her own feelings as he answered her question.
“Yes, I live alone. I’ve never felt a hunger to change that.” He turned his head again, to look at her now. “Until you.”
“Me?” Her heart shivered, but still she shook her head. “You don’t even like me. I’m a Campbell, remember?”
“Not something I’m going to forget, lass. But the heart of it is, you call to me and I know you feel the same.”
“I do, yes,” she said, scooting back on the couch as he shifted to lean toward her. “But it doesn’t make sense, Bain. We just met.” Love at first sight only happened in the movies, she thought. Or in books. It wasn’t real life, and even if it was, it wouldn’t happen to her. “I don’t know what I feel,” she hedged, her heartbeat quickening as he reached for her hand.
The instant his fingers touched hers, the moment his palm slid against hers, heat slammed through her. It was so much more than desire, though. This felt like her entire body was awakening all at once. As if she hadn’t even really been alive until this moment. There was something inevitable about it. As if she’d been made for him. As if her body had only been waiting for him to show up so it could welcome him.
How could she fight something so elemental?
“Do you feel that?” he asked, his deep voice a raw hush of sound. “The fire between us? The flash of lightning?”
Instantly, heat spilled from him, slid into her and sped through her veins like flames dancing atop a river of gasoline. She burned. She ached. She felt a connection to him she’d never known before. And when she looked into his eyes again, she knew he felt it, too. What was the point in denying it? “I do. What is it? What does it mean?”
“If it means what I think it does, you’ll not be leaving me. Ever.”
“Hold on here, Bain,” she said, needing to put the brakes on, for her own sanity’s sake if not for anything else. “There’s no way I can just stay here forever. I hardly know you. I have a life. Parents. A brother and—”
He kissed her.
Emma’s brain shut down and her body took over. Its needs supplanted everything else. Words died. Thoughts splintered. The touch of his mouth on hers dissolved everything but the very sensations it created. One corner of Emma’s mind fought to hide what she was feeling, but Bain wouldn’t allow that. He gave her more, demanded more. His mouth, his tongue, his breath, all worked together to drown her in more soul-shaking sensations than she’d ever known before.
Wrapping his hard, muscular arms around her, he leaned back on the sofa and drew her with him until she was wrapped across the top of him. She felt every square inch of his huge, amazing body and that only fed the flames already licking at her insides. His hands slid down her back to her behind and pressed her to him until she felt the rock-hard length of him and she knew exactly how much he wanted her.
She groaned as his tongue tangled with hers. Sighed as he lifted his hips into hers and she wiggled atop him as if trying desperately to get even closer to him. That tiny, logical voice in the back of her mind shrieked even louder, demanding that Emma stop. Think.
But she wasn’t the one who called a halt to what was the most sensuous
experience of her life.
Bain pulled back from her, breaking the kiss even as warning bells sounded in his mind. There was more here than simple lust. More even than the slender threads of connection he’d felt ever since first laying eyes on the woman. This was deeper, richer, unlike anything he’d ever experienced with any of the countless women he’d been with during the centuries of his life.
His heart thundering in his chest, Bain sat up, gently easing Emma off his chest and away from the aching erection that was demanding he get closer to her, not farther away. But he’d be damned if he allowed his cock to be making his decisions for him at his age.
It wasn’t just lust pounding through him, Bain told himself as he fought to keep from reaching for her again. His gaze locked on her, he noted her swollen lips, her disarranged clothing and her quick, uneven breath.
He groaned inwardly as he silently admitted that he’d been right in his suspicions about the attraction he felt for Emma. From the very first moment he’d set eyes on her, he’d felt it. The bond that had leaped to life the moment she was near him. Now, Guardian legends raced through his brain—tales of Destined Mates. The one woman meant to be with a certain Guardian. How his body would know hers. His soul would recognize hers. How their connection would strengthen a Guardian’s powers even while tying him more closely to the human world he protected.
Bain had to acknowledge that he hadn’t put much faith in the legends. After all, a man living centuries alone could make himself insane, waiting and searching for a Mate that would never appear. Instead, Bain had put the legends from his mind and focused his energies and his great strength on the task given to him. Fighting demons.
Now his world had changed in the fast blink of an eye. She was here. In front of him. A woman from modern times that called to the ancient warrior within him. Was Emma the one? Was this woman his promised Mate?
There was only one real way to know for sure. According to legend, only his Destined Mate would be able to hear a Guardian’s thoughts. He looked into her eyes and sent her a mental command.
Vacation with a Vampire...and Other Immortals: Vampires in ParadiseImmortal (Harlequin Nocturne) Page 12
