He gave her that shrug that could mean so many things. “Aye. Bridget had a way of getting people to do things for her, just because of the way she was with them. Whatever she said to old Munro, he had me working most days—and most nights—at the smithy.”
“Maybe he wanted you working so he could keep an eye on you.” The tea was finally cool enough to take a sip. It was aromatic and warm, and she took another drink.
The smile reached his eyes this time. “Ye probably are right, Arianna. If I wasn't tied to the forge, I was here, working on the place. Old Munro knew my whereabouts, and that of his daughter, every minute, for almost three years. But so did Bridget. And she used that to our advantage.”
For a few minutes they drank tea in silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound in the room. Ross shifted, drank, looked up at her.
“And then we were in love. The three years seemed to take forever, but then suddenly we were together. It was the happiest time of my life.”
She tried to imagine a young Ross, almost a man, in love with the beautiful Bridget. A shard of jealousy pierced her heart, but she shook her head. She shouldn't feel like this, all this happened over three hundred years ago. But still, it hurt.
“I can see it in yer eyes, Arianna. I shouldn't talk about her. Not with ye.” He stood up and opened the cupboard door, staring inside as if looking for the answer among the crockery. “It's not fair to ye.”
“It's okay, Ross. It's...” She wanted to say it was in the past. But he was in limbo: his past was also his present, or at least the living part of his present. “It's okay.”
The words were inadequate. She didn't think any words would be enough. Turning in the chair, she reached up and touched his arm. He looked down at her and gradually the troubled look left his face, his eyes softening.
“I don't want to hurt ye, but I'd like for ye to understand...things. My life. Why things are the way they are with me.”
“You can tell me. I can't promise it won't upset me, but I want to know. I want you to tell me.”
“Aye. Alright.” He took down bread and cheese, an onion, and a knife, and brought them to the table. He sliced the bread and cheese, passing them to her on a small plate. She shook her head at the onion, and he grinned.
“Learned to love onions a long time ago, when there was nothing else. They keep away vampires, you know.”
“That's garlic, Ross. Not onions.” She bit into the cheese, then the bread, and chewed, watching as he cut into the onion. The bread was chewy and dense, and somehow sweet, the cheese rich and pungent.
“Aye. Well, it must work. No vampire has ever gotten me.” He sat down, but for a moment just pushed the food around. Finally he took a bite of bread.
“So you married Bridget?” Might as well jump right into the heart of the matter. It was somehow the worst...or best...thing she could think that had happened, that he'd been happy all those years ago.
A shadow passed over his face, but he held her gaze. “We never did. Never had the chance.” His voice dropped. “Ravena...the witch...worked her magic before that could happen.”
She bit her lip, aching to ask more, but took another bite of bread instead. Better to wait him out, let him tell her. He wanted to; she just needed to be patient.
Ross shifted in his chair, pushing his plate away, the food uneaten. “I think it's time for that wine ye like.”
The sky had darkened dramatically outside, the distant roll of thunder filling the silence, the light clink of glasses as he set them on the table a delicate counterpoint. He talked while he poured, attention focused on the garnet-colored liquid.
“Ravena...no one knew where she came from, where her people were from. She claimed she was from France, from the mountains. Said she was a healer...” He set the bottle down, then pushed a glass toward her.
“I'd burned my hand at the forge, and she made a salve for it. I used it...” He shook his head, a rueful smile curling the corner of his lips. “It healed my hand. But it was the beginning of her magic, the beginning of the end.” He stared at his hand, flexed his fingers, brows drawing together. For a moment she knew he was back, a boy on the cusp of manhood, the world open ahead of him.
“The salve?”
He startled and glanced at her. “Aye. She'd worked a spell into it. The burn healed, but I was different...strange...after. Bridget was the first to notice. She said I was distant, cold. I told her it was her imagination. But she knew what had happened, saw through Ravena. I never did.”
He raised his glass, took a long swallow. “I dinna believe her. I should have listened, but I...” The glass hit the table with a thud. “If I had...if I had listened, things would have been so different.”
The pain in his voice almost broke her heart. “But...you didn't...couldn't know. Who believes in magic? It sounds...” She couldn't bring herself to say what they both were thinking.
“It sounds like madness, I ken. It sounded like madness then. It felt like madness. I loved her...loved Bridget more than my life. But it was like that love had been drained away. Bridget fought to reach me, to bring me back. Ravena's magic was strong, too strong for Bridget. So she did the only thing she could do. She went to Ravena, begged her to let me go. To bring me back to myself.”
The room had grown darker, flashes of lightning closer together. Arianna heard the rain drumming on the slate roof, surrounding them, closing them in. She waited for Ross to go on. He filled his glass again, and she realized she had yet to take a drink.
“Bridget...it didn't work. Ravena laughed at her, told her she was just a wee young lass, not worth her bother. There were words...” Ross smiled, shook his head. “Knowing Bridget, the words were strong. She had a sharp tongue, and no afraid to use it.”
Arianna nodded, barely breathing, not wanting to miss a word.
“But Ravena had sommat stronger...she had her evil magic. She told Bridget she wanted me for herself, and that I now loved Ravena. Bridget ken not to believe her, but there I was, cold to her.”
Ross set his empty glass on the table, but didn't refill it. “Ravena came to me that night as I slept. Came to me, did things to me...tempted me. I...” His voice broke and he closed his eyes. “I let her, and by God, I loved every twisted thing we did in that bed.”
Tears pricked her eyes, and she gave up trying to hold them back. Ross slowly moved his hand from where it rested beside his empty glass, fingers brushing against hers. He turned his hand palm up, and she put her hand in his. For a moment he squeezed her hand tightly, then abruptly let go.
“Bridget ken, sommat she ken what happened. But she dinna blame me. She went after Ravena, this time with a knife. Ravena couldna kill her outright, so she cursed her. She cursed Bridget to a slow and painful death.” His voice had gone cold, his eyes hard.
“Her father...Bridget's father...refused to have anything to do with her. I brought Bridget here. It was my fault, and she was my responsibility. It was painful, but watching Bridget as she lay there...it changed me...weakened Ravena's magic. I ken it was Ravena, and ken there was no going back to the life I'd had...the life I'd wanted with Bridget. But I did right by Bridget. I couldna save her, but I could end her suffering.”
“Oh, Ross...no.” Tears fell freely now, and she brushed her fist across her cheek. “No.”
“I've killed since. But she was my first.” The words belied no emotion, no feeling. They fell, cold as the rain hitting the roof.
The room was suddenly filled with blinding white light, the thunder's ear-splitting crash seconds behind. She didn't remember either of them standing, but before the rumbling faded she was in Ross's arms, her face against his chest, his arms around her.
“I'm sorry, Ross.” She wasn't sure he'd heard her, but repeating them seemed trite.
He held her, rubbing her back, his body stiff. But it should have been her comforting him. She lifted her face, reaching up to touch his cheek. His eyes were dry.
“Ross...I can't imagine what that was
like. But I think you did the right thing. I think you did what Bridget would have wanted you to do.”
He looked down at her in the dim light, his eyes shimmering briefly in a muted flash through the windows. Reaching higher, she ran her fingers through the hair at his temple, hand sliding to cradle the back of his head. At the pressure of her hand he flinched, but she kept her hand there, fingers wrapped in his thick hair. Gradually he relaxed, the tension slowly leaving his arms, his neck.
She looked into his eyes, into decades of pain and anguish, and her heart clenched. She nodded, pulling him close, and he lowered his head to her shoulder, arms tightening around her, pulling her up on her toes.
He turned his face toward her neck, and sighed, something she felt almost more than heard. There was a hitch in the breath he took, a subtle shiver running across his back. She held him, and felt the wetness of his tears against her skin.
She refused to let go of him until she felt him shift in her arms, until his hands began exploring her body, moving over her back, then lower, cupping her ass, pulling her against him. It was clear to her he was finished with his story, at least for now.
Chapter Ten
The bedroom was dark, but neither needed light to see.
Ross kissed her, lips brushing over hers as he fingers played over the buttons of her blouse. His movements were swift and sure, and in a moment he was pulling the blouse down her arms. The leather belt was still around her waist, and the blouse tangled around her arms, her breasts exposed.
“Wait...” She tried to step back, but he held her, his fingers firm around her upper arms.
“Dinna be afraid. I will na hurt ye.”
She heard the words, but when she looked up, just able to see his eyes in the faint light from the window, she wasn't so sure. Any tears were gone, replaced with something fierce, almost wild.
“I will never hurt ye.”
He pushed her back toward the bed, one shoe slipping off her foot. She stumbled, her knees hitting the edge of the mattress, but his fingers tensed against her, pulling her upright.
When she'd caught her balance he loosened his grip, then let go of her, fingers moving down to the belt at her waist. It hit the floor with a soft thud. There was a tug and pull at her hip, and the skirt swirled around her ankles.
Her arms were still tangled in the sleeves, and she knew if she tried, she could free herself. But she found she didn't want to be free, at least not yet.
His hands rose to her breasts, hands cupping her gently, his thumbs skating over her nipples. They tightened beneath his touch, and she looked down. Her eyes had adjust and in the low light the contrast of his dark hands against her pale skin made her draw in a sharp breath.
The space between them seemed too great and she pressed herself against his hands. The pressure increased, and he moved his hands over her breasts, rolling her rigid nipples between his fingers. She arched her back, body responding to his touch, to the conflicting but erotic feelings of newness and familiarity. It was a heady combination.
Ross took a step forward, she took a step back, and she sat down on the bed. Ross took another step, his kilted knees between hers. Reaching down he grabbed her by the waist, easily shifting her further onto the bed, then tipping her onto her back. The blouse was tangled beneath her, pinning her arms to her sides.
A laugh rose to her lips, but the look in Ross's eyes cut it off. His eyes were locked with hers, filled with passion and lust, and a fierceness that took her breath away. Leaning down he kissed her, his lips bruising hers in a kiss filled with primal energy.
He broke the kiss, standing up. From her place on the bed he towered over her, looking every bit a Scotsman from the 1700s. He reached over, struck a match, and lit the candle that sat on the bedside table. Then he looked down at her, and smiled.
Slowly, he pulled his shirt over his head and she drank in the sight of him, the broad chest gleaming in the soft light of the candle. She wiggled on the bed, arousal shooting through her like a flaming arrow, piercing her heart, driving lower, starting a fire deep inside. It was a familiar and welcome heat, but it was tinged with something darker this time. It was tinged with just a hint of fear.
Ross stood looking down at her, eyes heavy-lidded now as they took in every detail of her naked body laid out beneath him. Her lips parted and she drew in a sharp breath, but her body warmed beneath his gaze, her hips shifting, rolling slightly, a wanton invitation for him to lie between them.
He lifted his eyes to face. It was clear he didn't need an invitation; she'd have opened herself willingly to him in a heartbeat. She knew it and so did he.
She watched as his hands moved to the sides of his kilt, eyes never leaving hers. Deliberately, slowly, he undid the buckles, then let the garment fall to the floor. She took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. She could now say with undisputed authority that she knew what men wore beneath their kilts.
Lit only by the candle he was simply stunning. The light flickered over his body, outlining each muscle on his arms and chest, his flat stomach. She knew he was this way from hours of work in the forge.
But the forge was the last thing on her mind right now. She let her eyes drift lower over that wonderful flat area below his navel. Then only a few inches lower, to his erection, rising from the thick thatch of dark hair at the apex of his thighs.
She was so lost in looking at him his soft laugh surprised her. She looked up. His eyes caught the light, glinting almost silver in the candle's light.
“Ye like what ye see?”
“I do. I like what I see very much.”
“I told ye looking was a pleasure.” He moved closer, then leaned over and kissed her quickly. “But not as much as being between those satin thighs.”
The smell of warm candle wax mixed with the scent of the man, a rich heady scent. Her arms were still pinned by the blouse and she struggled to free her arms.
“Do ye want me to let you go? I think I like ye like this.”
“I think I'd like to be a willing participant in this, not restrained. If you don't mind, that is.”
The smile remained just as devilish as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling between her legs, reaching down to grab her upper arms. With ease he pulled her upright. She folded her legs underneath her until they were sitting knee to knee. His fingers tensed against her, his eyes catching the light from the candle.
“Will ye reconsider? I think I like ye like this.”
Before she could answer he pulled her to him, kissing her hard, a brutal kiss that caught her off guard. He pulled her forward until her knees bumped into his. There was nothing she could do but spread her knees as he continued to pull her toward him.
Slowly he moved his hands down to her hips, fingers tensing against her skin. With surprising strength he pulled her up his legs, her thighs sliding along his. Beneath her she felt his fingers moving lower, spreading her, fingers working into unexplored territory. She broke away with a gasp.
“You're not going to let me go, are you?”
“Not until I have ye...”
“You can have me without tying me up. I'm not going to run away, you know.”
“Aye...ye won't. But just this once...” He shifted his hips, his erection rubbing against her stomach.
“Just this once...” She was already leaning into him, her breasts pressing against his chest. “Just this once.”
“Aye.” He shifted beneath her, lifting her, fingers sinking in to her skin as he guided her, moving her until his cock slid into her.
“Oh, God...” She settled down onto him as he spread his thighs. “Ross...” It felt as if he were reaching further than possible, filling and stretching her like she'd never been before.
“Shhh...” He moved his hands to her waist, flexing his hips upward, thrusting into her while pushing her down. She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back. But she lost her balance, tipping away from him.
“Hold on...” Ross pulled her upright. “Don't lean back
or ye'll tip over.”
“I'll try to remember that.”
Leaning forward was better, her breasts against his chest, her hard nipples rubbing against his chest. It didn't take her long to discover she could nuzzle his ear, nibble his earlobe. He ducked his head, twisting to look at her.
“Tread lightly there. I'm ticklish.”
“I'll try to remember that too.”
He winked at her, then reached up, winding his fingers into her hair, pulling her into a kiss that took her breath away. Beneath her his thighs flexed and shifted, driving him into her over and over, until she was moaning against Ross's mouth.
Waves of arousal washed through her, growing stronger, more intense, until there was no controlling her reaction, or her body. She pulled away from Ross, nearly falling backward, as she came, her body shuddering.
He grabbed her, yanked her upright and rose up on his knees, thrusting almost violently into her. She had enough awareness left to wrap her legs around his waist, falling forward onto him.
Suddenly he pitched them both over, pinning her onto the bed. He threw his head back, sinking himself to the hilt in her quivering body, as he came, suddenly, with such intensity she lay quiet beneath him, watching with amazement as he took his release.
When he finally rolled off her, he turned onto his stomach, face buried in the pillows. She lay for a moment, catching her breath, then struggled to sit up, finally able to work her arms out of the blouse. She flopped back down, arms stretched over her head.
After a long time he looked up, then propped himself on one elbow. “Ye were right, I should have let ye go. That was almost too much for me, having ye riding me like a stallion.”
She turned her head, and gave him her sweetest smile. “Truth be told? I kind of liked that. You can tie me up anytime you want, Ross. I'll even provide the rope.”
Leaning over, she kissed his cheek, then rolled onto her side, trying not to giggle at the startled look on his face.
* * *
The candle had melted to almost nothing, a flickering flame resting in a puddle of wax. Neither of them had really slept, and Ross finally pushed up against the bed, tucking a pillow behind his head. Arianna pulled the sheet up over her shoulder. He shifted, legs moving beneath the sheet, and she settled against him. He reached down, trailing a finger along her cheek, and then he pulled the sheet down until he uncovered her arms, then her breasts.
Kiss Of Fire (BBW Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance): Dragon Shifter Romance Page 8
