An Original Sin (15 page)

She had the perfect weapon. The only one that would allow her to walk away from this with her emotions reasonably intact.

Say it. Just say it.
“You’re very good. The women back home are in for a real treat.”

She felt his sudden stillness, his emotional withdrawal. “I dinna understand.”

“Isn’t it obvious? Ever since we woke up together, I’ve wondered what the point of our meeting was. Well, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to get the picture. From everything I’ve observed, you’re a potent male, just what we need to bring healthy genes back to our society. Think of yourself as the second coming of Adam.” She hated the words, hated herself for saying them.

“’Twas an experiment?” The warm huskiness of his voice turned glacial. “Ye meant only to prove I was
potent
?”

“Actually, this didn’t prove your sperm count was adequate, but you performed well, and I don’t see any problem. You’ll do nicely. Now that you understand, I suppose we can just go back to the rest-over room and get ourselves beamed to my time.” She cringed at her chirpy tone.
I’m sorry, Leith. So sorry.
She’d never hurt a living thing in her life, but she was hurting Leith, and the knowledge sickened her.

She felt the bed give as he rolled away from her, shivered as cool air replaced the warmth of his body.

“Ye would take me back to be a prisoner in yer society, a bull to service yer women?” He’d wiped all emotion from his voice, and that frightened her more than his rage could.

“That’s a little dramatic. You’d be an honored guest. Of course you wouldn’t have to physically impregnate all the women. We could collect your sperm and artificially—”

“I dinna want to hear any more. ’Tis unnatural.”

She was glad he’d interrupted her. Every word she uttered shattered into a razor-sharp shard of agony that tore at her heart. Only a few days ago the thought of bringing this man back to the world’s women had thrilled her. What had happened? Leith had happened. His smile, the tilt of his head, the musical roll of his words. He was
real
now, not just a male body to be manipulated for the good of humanity.

“And if I didna want to
share
my body with the women of your world, would they force me?” He’d swung his feet to the floor, and was sitting on the edge of the bed, his strong back a muscled wall of rejection.

“I…”
Yes, they would.
Everyone practiced nonviolence, but for the survival of the human race, they’d sacrifice Leith.

“Answer me!” She’d never heard this note in his voice
before—cold rage, danger. “Would they strip me, bind me to a table, and take what I wouldna give them?”

She flinched away from the whip-sting of his accusation. “It wouldn’t be like that. They’d put you to sleep for a while, and—”

“And they’d rape me.”

The ugliness of the word hung between them. She couldn’t make herself speak past that word.

“Ye’d let them do that to me, lass?” The softness of his question stretched between them with the intensity of a laser beam in the hands of an unpredictable madman.

Where had this conversation gone wrong? She’d never meant it to get so out of hand. She’d just wanted to distance herself physically, emotionally from him. She’d thought he’d get angry, then calm down and tell her she was crazy to think he’d go with her, and dismiss the whole idea. She should’ve remembered how intense he’d become when discussing Glencoe.

But he’d asked a question, and her innate honesty wouldn’t let her lie. “I’d…I’d have to do what was best for the continuation of the human race. It would be my duty.”

“Aye, and duty, of course, would come first.” He sounded deeply sad, disappointed. “Ye havena lived long enough to understand there are things ye must put before duty.”

“What could possibly come before the survival of the human race?” She wanted to cry, even though she knew she was right.

“What indeed?” His murmured question seemed almost a musing, not connected to her.

She couldn’t take this anymore. Why had she started it? Her reasons didn’t seem quite so urgent now. “Look, let’s drop it. If you don’t want to go, I’ll…I’ll find someone else.”
Right.
Sure she would. Even now, facing his wrath,
she knew he was the only one she’d want to bring back with her.

“Ye willna. Ye believe powers have chosen
me
as yer sacrifice. But I willna go, Fortune. I willna make myself a captive in yer world. But dinna worry about the survival of the human race. Yer race is no longer human.”

Stung, she lashed back. “At least we’re dedicated to continuing life, not ending it.”

The silence between them vibrated with sorrow, regret—for what she’d said, for what he’d done, or failed to do.

“Ye’re right, lass.” He reached for his clothes. A few seconds later, dressed in shirt and jeans, he faced her.

She couldn’t see his expression in the darkened room, but that didn’t stop her sudden spurt of fear. “You’re not leaving, are you? Where would you go? You won’t have anyone to help you understand things.”
Stupid.
He’d survived in the savagery of his world, and he’d survive in this time, also.

“I dinna need anyone to help me understand things. I understand things fine. ’Tis ye who dinna understand, lass.”

Speechless, she watched him leave the room, listened to his footsteps fade away, heard the slam of the front door.

A low, angry growl drew her attention to the foot of the bed, where Ganymede crouched. OK, what was
his
problem? She distinctly remembered feeding him. Oh, who understood cats? For that matter, who understood men?

Turning her head on the pillow, Fortune for a moment failed to recognize the velvety-soft touch against her cheek. Lifting her head, she stared at the crushed yellow petals of Leith’s flower. She closed her eyes and accepted the pain of its symbolism—her crushed hopes and the color of cowardice.

Leith slouched over his table at the Cajun Café and considered his situation. After walking and fuming in the darkness, he’d stuck out his thumb as he’d seen someone doing on the day they’d arrived in this cursed time. A car finally stopped, and Leith asked to be left here. He knew no other place. When the driver commented on his surly attitude, Leith felt obliged to admit he’d fought with a woman, and that he was in a mood to crack some heads. The man laughed.

He felt at ease with men. They were honest and said what they thought. He understood men.

Ye understand women, too. ’Tis only a certain red-haired vixen ye dinna understand.
He exhaled sharply. His problem was that for all the times Fortune befuddled him, this once her motive was clear. Duty. He might hate what she intended for him, but he had to respect her motivation. The same duty drew him back to Hugh, to his clan.

Then why was he so angry? He closed his eyes in recognition of the truth. If she’d chosen any other man, he would’ve understood, accepted. But that she would do this to
him…
that she would make passionate love with him, then calmly announce she intended to hand him into slavery…

“I dinna understand women, Blade.” When he’d entered the cafe, he’d found Blade and Lily. He lifted the drink Blade had bought him, emptied it, then slammed it down on the table for emphasis.

“What’s to understand?” Blade shrugged, then glanced over at Lily, who was returning after soundly thrashing a host of men at a game of darts.

Leith stared at Blade with newfound admiration. “Mayhap ye can help me. What would make a woman turn on ye after the two of ye had just finished being verra…friendly?”

“Hmm,” Blade offered in thoughtful comment.

“You probably scared her.” Lily sat down next to Blade.

“Scared her? How can ye be scared when ye’re still joined to a man ye’ve made love wi’, and after screaming yer pleasure…?”

He noticed their avid interest, and realized perhaps he’d said too much. “She’d no reason to be frightened,” he grumbled.

Lily sat back and studied him with eyes that saw too much. “When you make great love, you lose control. Fortune looks like a lady who wants to be in control. Maybe she felt threatened.” She winked at Leith. “You look like the kind of man who’d be dangerous to any woman’s peace of mind.” She threw her arms around Blade and squeezed. Blade winced. “Just like my man.”

Doubtful, Leith shook his head. “I dinna think she felt me a threat.”

Lily’s expression softened. “I’ve never known a man who really knew what a woman was thinking. Go with the flow, handsome.”

Go with the flow
? He refused to ask what that meant. Besides, he thought Lily was wrong. She hadn’t been there, heard the coldness in Fortune’s voice. He’d misjudged Fortune. If she had her way, he’d spend the rest of his life playing stud to a world of sex-starved women. Once he might’ve welcomed that thought. Not now. Not since Fortune.
Curse the woman!

She would not make a fool of him. Even though he still wanted her, he’d be damned if he’d give in to his body’s demands. He would stay with her because he needed her help with his work, and also because, as much as he wanted to deny it, he felt the need to keep her safe. At least until she returned to her world.
Alone.

“Hey, big guy, if you need extra protection, look in the top drawer next to the bed.” Blade’s quiet offer interrupted
Leith’s dark thoughts. “I know how it is. Just married and all, you sorta forget things like that. But you folks don’t need the patter of little feet right now, except for that damned cat.”

Leith closed his eyes.
A child.
He’d wanted Fortune so badly he hadn’t considered the consequences. He forced away soft thoughts of Fortune and him together with their bairn. It wouldn’t happen. Even if Fortune was with child, there was no future for them as a family.

His resolve hardened. He couldn’t control much, but if Fortune bore his child while they still remained together, he would make sure of one thing.

“We got trouble outside, Blade.”

Leith opened his eyes at the urgent whisper. A stranger leaned over Blade, and Blade looked worried. Without a word, Blade stood and walked toward the door. Leith rose and followed him.
Trouble.
He needed some trouble now to clear his mind.

Outside, Tank stood facing a massive man who wore a leather jacket with what looked like a skull and crossbones. Behind the man stood more men who looked as dangerous as their leader.

Leith took in the situation at a glance. The huge man must belong to a rival clan…no, motorcycle club. He was looking for trouble, hoping to find it in Tank. Leith knew the type.

Leith moved up to stand beside Tank, who cast him a grateful glance. “Ye should pick on those closer to yer size.” Up close, Leith realized how really big the man was. He would have a hard time finding anyone his own size.
Fine.
Leith needed a physical challenge, something he could pound with his fists, kick with his feet, something he could understand no matter what the time.

The man cast Leith a contemptuous glare. “He a new member of yours, Tank?”

Tank started to answer, but Leith broke in. “I take care of special…problems.”

The man nodded and reached toward his boot, but Leith was quicker. He knew what the man reached for, and as the man brought the knife up toward Leith, Leith kicked it from his hand. The man’s shocked expression whetted Leith’s appetite for battle.

The fight was not overlong. The big man was strong, but he didn’t have a lifetime of experience behind him. He didn’t carry with him the need to beat his opponent to a pulp in order to rid himself of the image of a red-haired vixen whose lips were still swollen with his kisses, and who calmly spoke of taking him back to her time, not for herself, but for humanity. He didn’t feel the rage of knowing she’d not wanted him at all, but had simply been testing him to see if he’d be an adequate stud.

When it was over, they stood with feet apart, breathing hard, and swaying. But the big man breathed harder and swayed like an old oak in a killing wind.

Leith grinned through a cut and bleeding lip. He turned his head so he could see his opponent out of his one good eye.

The big man glared at Leith from a bruised and swollen face. “Another time.” He didn’t spare Tank a glance as he nodded to his followers, who muttered threats but climbed on their bikes and roared away from the café.

Tank grinned and slapped Leith across the back. Leith almost fell over. The fight had felt good, but he was exhausted. The big man had been a worthy opponent. He’d known the same dirty tricks as Leith, and tried every one. Yes, men were predictable. Only women changed with every breeze.

“Let me buy you a drink. You deserve it.”

Leith shook his head. “ ’Tis time I went home.”

Tank nodded and studied Leith. “Look, if you ever need any help, you can call on me. I owe you.”

Blade shoved aside the milling crowd of well-wishers to reach Leith. “I’ll drive you home, big guy. You want to get cleaned up before we leave?”

Leith shook his head again. Let Fortune see him a bloody mess. With the way she felt about violence, she’d probably never come near him again.
Good.

Leith followed Blade and Lily out to the taxi, then climbed into the back. He stretched out his legs and leaned his head against the seat. Now that the thrill of battle had drained away, he felt like hell. Everything hurt, including his head. Luckily, no one tried to make conversation with him.

A short distance away from the house, he made a decision. “Blade, wi’ ye let me out here?”

Blade pulled the taxi over and turned to stare at him. “Here? Beside the lake?”

Leith nodded. “I need time to think. ’Tis quiet here. None will bother me. ’Twill be a short walk when I’m ready to go home.”
Go home.
Going home would take more than a short walk, but Blade would never know that.

He knew Blade and Lily watched as he stumbled from the taxi. He must be getting old, or just out of practice. It had not been much of a brawl, but he felt like he’d been kicked by a horse. Considering the size of the man he’d fought, he was lucky to have no broken bones. And if the man had reached his knife a bit faster, Leith would have a few new scars.