Amethyst Destiny (15 page)

“I’m not having sex with you.” But her voice sounded as breathy and sexy as some porn queen’s. Heat swirled inside her.

“I’m not asking ye to. Just let me show ye a taste of what it can be like, hm? Just a wee bit of pleasure.”

If she’d been fully sober, she would have said no, she was sure of it, but he was so gentle and his touch felt so good ...

His fingers slipped inside the neck of her shift, sliding over sensitive flesh to close around her nipple. A gentle squeeze made her gasp and arch into his touch.

The air tore in and out of her lungs in harsh, noisy breaths as she struggled against the rising tide of pleasure. A tug at her shift and he dipped his head and took her bare breast deep into his mouth.

Julia cried out with the pleasure, her hands rising into his hair, holding him tight against her. “Talon,” she gasped. It was too much. How was she supposed to handle so much sensation? What was she supposed to do?

He tugged again and her second breast was bared and sucked into his mouth. Again, she cried out and arched into the pleasure while his hand kneaded her damp breast, plucking at her nipple. Every tug of his mouth and fingers pulled at the sensitive flesh between her legs as if a physical cord joined them.

The heat rose inside her until she was damp and throbbing, and rocking with restless need.

“Talon.”

As he sucked on one breast, his fingers abandoned the other. She felt the heel of his hand at her knee, felt him pulling her shift up her legs.

Julia jerked upright. “Talon, no.”

He released her shift, his hand rising to her face, his warm palm cupping her cheek as he turned her face to him again. “I’ll not hurt you. I just want to touch you, to see your eyes darken with pleasure.”

“So you can take advantage.”

“Nay.” He kissed her cheek. “So you can heal.”

“I’m not broken.”

He lifted his head and met her gaze with those blue, blue eyes. “Nay, you’re too strong for that. But there’s pain in you. I see it in your eyes. I feel it when I touch you. Let me bring you pleasure with my finger, Julia. Just that. I vow, just that.”

Her pulse was racing now, her legs growing damp from the thought of where he wanted to touch her. Her body clearly wanted the same. But she didn’t.

“I don’t want anything inside me.”

“I won’t put it inside you. Just a simple touch that won’t enter you at all.”

Crazily, she wasn’t pushing him away. Insanely, she trusted him.

He smiled, that charmer’s smile that tightened things inside her even when she wasn’t half under his thrall. “Say
aye,
Julia.”

Oh God. The unfamiliar word slipped from her lips. “Aye.”

He kissed her forehead as his hand brushed her knee, then he gently lifted the hem of her shift.

She stiffened. She couldn’t help it. The memories of those other times had all run together in her head, one big, wretched memory.

“Shh, lass,” he murmured against her temple, as if he could hear the doubts in her head. “Relax. And feel.”

But as his hand crawled up her thigh, she grabbed it. “Talon, I can’t do this. I don’t want it.”

His hand retreated to her knee, her own still clinging to his wrist. “Just a touch, lassie, nothing more. I’ll not enter ye.” His mouth covered hers, his tongue sliding along hers, stoking the flame doused by her fear. “You’re no coward, Julia. ’Tis only a touch.”

She wasn’t a coward. Dammit, she wasn’t.

She forced herself to lift her hand from his. “Then touch me, but it won’t change anything. I’m still not going to want you inside me.”

He kissed her temple even as his hand began to move up her thigh.

She wasn’t a coward, but to her mortification, she was beginning to tremble. Her eyes were starting to feel hot.

“I don’t want this,” she said miserably.

His hand stopped moving, inches from the top of her thigh. “Kiss me.”

With a shaky breath, she pulled back to where she could meet his gaze. In his eyes, she saw a tenderness unlike any ever directed at her. A promise to keep her safe.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against the corner of her eye, then pulled back.

“Kiss me.”

With trembling hands, she pressed her palms to his cheeks and slowly leaned forward, covering his mouth with her own. His arm curled tight around her, holding her with a gentle firmness that had tenderness welling up inside her. A single tear slid down her cheek.

His mouth moved gently over hers, teasing and coaxing until she opened and let him in. Passion swept through her all over again, eliciting a low moan from her throat.

And when his fingers curled around her upper leg and tugged, spreading her thighs, she didn’t fight him. Not until she felt the first brush of his finger against her swollen, private flesh did she jerk and pull her mouth from his, stunned by the jolt of pure pleasure.

“Easy, lassie. All I wish to do is this. Just this.”

Her hands slid around his neck, her forehead pressing against his cheekbone as he brushed her again and again, each slide of his finger a shock. A wonderful shock of incredible, intense pleasure.

Over and over, he stroked her, each stroke turning her into a woman she didn’t know, a woman whose hips rocked with growing need, whose throat filled with small gasps and low moans. A woman whose already bare breasts ached for a man’s mouth and whose body heated and wept and
wanted
.

Pressure rose deep inside her, a wildness she knew to be a building orgasm even if she’d never had one.

“Don’t stop, Talon. Please don’t stop.”

She felt his chin brushing her hair. “Not for all the silver in Christendom.”

His finger was magic, pressing and touching and rubbing in exactly the right spot, at just the right speed and pressure until ...

With a cry, her body tightened, cresting and careening into a long, rippling run of pure bliss. Talon continued to touch her, continued to milk her release until she was a boneless mass in his arms.

Slowly, he slid his palm down her thigh, then away, pulling down her shift to cover her legs again.

“I didn’t know ... my body could do that,” she said when she could speak again.

“Aye, it can.” His arms tightened around her, cradling her. Beneath her, she felt the hard ridge of his own thick arousal.

She shuddered, utterly sated, yet painfully aware he wasn’t. That he’d want to be, too. And she couldn’t ... she couldn’t ...

“Are you in terrible pain?” she asked, softly. Guiltily.

“Dinna fash yourself.”

“Dinna
what
myself?”

He chuckled. “Dinna worry. I’ll be fine.”

She buried her face in his neck. “Are you sure? I ... I can’t help you, but I don’t want you to be in pain. Not after ...” Words were failing her.

“Did ye like it, then?” he asked, his voice as full of anticipation as a kid’s.

“It was ...
amazing.
Better than I ever believed.”

His hand slid up and down her arm. “Watching you rise, feeling your pleasure break over you moved me, Julia. I may have gotten as much pleasure out of that as you did.”

“Now you’re just making fun of me.”

“Nay, I am not” His hand stroked her hair. “You’ve a rare passion in ye, lass. Dinna be afraid to give yourself to the right man.”

She lifted her head and met his gaze. “And you’re the right man?” For once, her tone didn’t hold any exasperation. Because she felt none.

“Nay, lass. I am not”

She eyed him with surprise. “You don’t want to have sex with me?”

He smiled at her, but the charmer was missing. Sadness lurked in the blue depths of his eyes.

“Aye, I wish to know you like that, more than you ken. But you deserve more than I can give you, Julia. You deserve a man who will love you, lass. Who will marry you and give you bairns. A man of your own time and world.” He stroked her head. “You’re deserving of that. Of love.”

“And you would never love me.”

He watched her with that sadness, and then placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “I have no love in me to give any woman. And it wouldna matter if I did. Our lives were never meant to cross.”

TWELVE

Talon awoke instantly and completely to the sound of a rap at the door. The room was still dark but for the glow of coals from the hearth, coals that told him they’d been sleeping for nigh on three or four hours. It was still several hours until daybreak.

He slipped out from beneath the blanket and Julia, laying her head on the down pillow instead of his shoulder. Then he rose from the bed, a knife in his hand, and went to open the door.

Before him, reaching little higher than his waist, stood the red-haired dwarf who had given him his ring all those years ago.

“Hegarty.” Talon’s fist clenched around the knife in his right hand, his ring hand. “You canna have it,” he growled.

To Talon’s consternation, the dwarf dodged beneath his arm and slipped into the room. “You’ve called another of the stones, have ye, laddie?” He turned his weathered face to him, eyeing him with surprise. “I sense the magic.”

“I dinna ken what you’re saying, troll. Now leave me.”

“Troll, is it? I’ll not be a troll, laddie. Ye can call me a dwarf, right enough. Though Hegarty will do.”

Hegarty spied Julia lying on the bed and headed straight for her. Talon cut him off before he reached the bed.

“Leave her be.”

But Hegarty ignored him, pushing past his knife as if unconcerned by the blade, or disbelieving Talon would actually attack him.

And truth to tell, he wouldn’t. Not unless he hurt the lass. Then he’d kill him.

Julia had rolled onto her back when Talon got up. As he watched, Hegarty’s hand shot out and snared the small jewel she wore around her neck, lifting it. With a grunt, he dropped the necklace and shook her shoulder.

“Wake up, lassie.” But Julia had downed a goodly amount of whiskey and would not be waking soon. “I’ll need my stone.”

Talon’s gaze jerked to Hegarty as understanding dawned. “You had
two?”

“A sight more than two.” Hegarty shook Julia’s shoulder again. “Lassie, wake!”

“She’s not ...

“From this time?” Hegarty finished for him. “I ken that well enough. The garnet brought her here.”

“Nay.” Talon shook his head. “The ring brought her to me.”

Hegarty looked at him thoughtfully. “That may be. Ye asked the amethyst for something and it called her to fulfill yer wish. Because it could. The amethyst has the power to call all the stones ... and their wearers.”

Talon stared at him. “There are others?”

“That’s not your concern, laddie, but you’ll give me my ring now.” He shot out his stubby hand, palm up.

Talon took a step back. “Nay, I will not. I’ll not part with it.” He lifted his knife in the dwarf’s face. “Ye’ll be leaving now, and ye’ll not return.”

“Not without my ring.”

Talon shoved his knife into its sheath and grabbed the back of Hegarty’s jacket, yanking the dwarf up and off his feet.

Hegarty kicked and flailed. “Ye’ll be putting me down!” “Aye. Beneath the moon.”

Hegarty swung out, catching him hard in the jaw, but Talon was not to be dissuaded. He bodily carried the dwarf out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door, finally depositing him in the grass.

Hegarty whirled on him, straightening his coat with a scowl. “Ye were more agreeable when ye were a lad.”

Talon snarled at him. “This is my life you’re trying to take.”

The dwarf stilled, eyeing him sharply. “If ye’ve built yer life around the ring, laddie, ye’ve built yer life on a lie.”

“Go! And never cross my path again, dwarf.”

“I’ll go, lad. For now. But I’ll be back, mark my words. I’ll have the amethyst. As I will the garnet. Sooner or later, I’ll have them both.”

“Nay, you will not.” Talon whirled and stomped back into the house and up the stairs, throwing the bolt on the bedchamber door. He stood with his back to it, his heart thundering in his chest.

He’d always known Hegarty would return someday, demanding his ring. But now he wanted Julia’s necklace, too. He stared at her as she slept. Julia, who wore one of Hegarty’s jewels, just as he did. Did she know? And how on God’s earth had she come by it?

So many questions. Too many. His head was beginning to ache even as his stomach soured.

Julia had another way home now. For the price of her necklace, he had no doubt Hegarty would send her. Just like that. No need to discover what use the ring had for her. No need to wait for the ring to release her.

If he told her she had a way home, she’d be after the dwarf in a thrice.

His jaw clenched. His sour stomach told him what he must do, but the ache in his chest denied it. He wasn’t ready to let her go.

Pushing away from the door, he returned to the bed and pulled her into his arms, lest the dwarf try to call her to him in another way. Julia turned to him, sliding her arm around his waist with a soft purr, easing some of the tension that twisted through him like a rope coiled too tight.

He couldn’t lose her. Not yet. Not so soon. He still needed her.

Heaven help him, he didn’t want to let her go.

They rode through the day, Julia enjoying her pretty new gown even though she had to ride with it hiked up to her knees, her Frye boots showing. Talon had promised that when they got closer to the castle, he’d ask the ring to provide a coach, but so far that request had turned into a pumpkin. In the distance, she could see the castle they’d seen in the flames sitting high on a hill above the village. Picktillum Castle, glistening in the sunlight with its one round and three square towers, was a sight to behold.

Julia glanced at Talon, riding tall and proud beside her, dressed in the trappings of a gentleman. But the finery did nothing to diminish the impression he gave of strength. Of danger.

An impression only heightened by the silence in which he’d ridden all day. A silence that was gnawing at her. She’d spilled her guts to him last night, telling him everything. And he’d barely spoken to her since.

He’d convinced her he wanted to know the truth—that he could handle it.

Apparently, they’d both been wrong.

As they rode up the track to the castle, Talon turned to her. “Say little or naught. If ye must speak, tell them you’re from the Colonies. You’re my wife. With bairn.”

She grimaced.
“Pregnant?”

“Aye. ’Twill give us an excuse to seek hospitality.”

“Great,” she muttered. “And what are you?”

She expected him to shoot her an annoyed glare. To her surprise, he lifted one hand airily. “Why, I am an Irish-man, of course,” he said in a surprisingly good Irish accent, a full octave above his usual.

Julia laughed and Talon grinned.

“You are such a con man.”

“A con man?”

“A ...” Her smile faded. “An untruthful manipulator.”

His smile dimmed along with hers, his eyes turning serious. “They mustn’t ken who we are or why we’re truly here, lass. ’Tis the way of it.”

Julia sighed. “So we’re both con men now.”

As they approached the gates, two armed men stepped out to meet them, watching her with more curiosity than they did Talon. They were both nice-looking young men dressed in decent seventeenth-century rugged casual, as she was beginning to think of it. Snug-fitting pants, boots, long shirts that fell to mid-thigh, vests, and a belt laden with knives and other things.

“State your business,” one of the men said evenly, his voice neither friendly nor unfriendly.

Talon looked down his nose at them, his hand flicking out dismissively. “I’ll speak to your laird.”

One of the men scowled, but the other nodded and called to a lad watching nearby. “Fetch Kinross.”

“Aye.” The boy took off toward one of the towers.

“Come,” the man said. “Leave your mounts here.”

Talon swung off his horse without his usual grace, then moved to help her down, groaning as if she weighed a ton. But when she looked at him askance, she caught a quick wink.

Talon was totally in character now. Whatever that character might be. And she was intensely uncomfortable with it all. He’d thrown her into the middle of a dangerous play, without lines or any idea of the story. All she knew was she was supposed to be this character’s pregnant wife. And if they were discovered to be the imposters they were?

She didn’t want to think about it.

They followed the two tall Scotsmen through a courtyard that looked much like the one she’d looked down on in Castle Rayne, then up a full flight of twisty stairs and into a great hall even more beautifully decorated than that of Rayne. The walls had been painted a rich cream and were covered with neat groupings of paintings. Like Rayne, the furniture sat in conversational groupings. Unlike Rayne, there were rugs on the floor beneath them, plump throw pillows, and even coffee tables with books. Other than the lack of electricity, the room could have come out of a twenty-first-century castle decorator’s book.

“Have a seat,” one of their escorts said. But they’d barely walked three steps when the boy who’d been sent to fetch Kinross returned. With him strode a tall, ruggedly handsome man with the palest eyes Julia had ever seen. His clothes were basically the same as those of his guards, but there was an air about this man that spoke of authority. And power.

A shiver of unease went through her as she feared what would happen if he realized they weren’t travelers, but thieves.

As he drew near, his pale gaze hit her and clung, his step almost faltering. She felt Talon’s arm go around her shoulders as he pulled her against him, protectively.

“I am Rourke Douglas, the Viscount Kinross,” the man said, recovering quickly. But his gaze made only a cursory glance over Talon before returning to her.

“I am Patrick O’Grady, Lord Hertford,” Talon said in that Irish accent, releasing her to make a funky bow. But the moment he straightened, his arm went right back around her and he pulled her against him. “This is my wife, Julia. We are on our way to Aberdeen, but our carriage lost a wheel and my lady is with child and in need of a decent bed for a day or two.”

The viscount dipped his head, but his gaze was still fastened on her. “From whence do ye hail, my lady?”

Julia swallowed, remembering Talon’s coaching. “The Colonies.”

His eyes narrowed. “Ye’ve had quite a journey.”

Julia nodded.

“Which colony?”

“New York.” Oh hell, was it called New York in 1688? What was it called before that? New Holland? New Amsterdam ? That was the problem with being a transplant. You never learned this stuff unless you grew up there. “That’s what we call it. It’s in New Amsterdam.”
I think.

The viscount’s mouth twitched. Was he laughing at her? Those eyes of his got a strange look in them. A flicker of warmth, she thought. And something else that made little sense. Excitement.

She gave a mental groan. If he was interested in hearing all about the Colonies, she was sunk.

The viscount turned to one of his guards. “Angus, ask Brenna to meet us in the solar.”

“Aye.” The man turned and hurried away.

The viscount motioned them to follow, then led them across the Great Hall to yet another of those blasted tight, turny stairs. Talon kept firm hold of her hand as they climbed. At the first opening, Kinross exited onto a hallway and led them into another room that was as warmly decorated as the Great Hall, but on a much smaller scale.

“Your home ... your
castle...
is lovely,” Julia told him.

She half expected him to ignore her, but she found him watching her again with that disconcerting interest.

“Ye find it pleasing to your eye.” He nodded, as if satisfied with her answer.

An odd response.

Moments later, a woman walked into the room and stopped, staring at her much as Kinross had. She was lovely, dressed in a vibrant blue day dress that set off her auburn hair to a tee. Auburn hair that wasn’t swept up or hidden behind some mobcap or something, but hanging loose around her shoulders with distinctive, expensive layering. Like hair growing out from a good cut.

Goose bumps ran over Julia’s arms. The woman gave Kinross a startled look, then turned back to her, meeting her gaze, her eyes suddenly twinkling as if she knew all Julia’s secrets and couldn’t wait to let her know.

She strode toward Julia, thrusting out her hand in a way Julia had seen no one else do in this time. “I’m Brenna Cameron ... Douglas,” she amended with a small shake of her head, her voice ...
American.
“The Viscountess Kinross. But call me Brenna.”

Julia stared fully now, taking the proffered hand and shaking it numbly as her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

“You ... sound just like I do.”

Brenna’s face split into a grin. “I knew it! That’s a seventy-dollar haircut if I ever saw one.”

Julia just continued to stare, her head spinning. “A hundred-dollar haircut. I’m from New York.”

Brenna gave a small grimace and glanced at Talon. “Maybe we should talk in private.”

Julia let out a long, shuddering breath, feeling the weight of all the deception tumble from her shoulders to fall in a heap at her feet.

“He knows. But ...” She couldn’t wrap her head around it.
“How are you here?”