Cherry Adair - T-flac 09 (22 page)

“Long, long ago—rest your head—yes, there you go. Close your eyes, sweetheart.”

She yawned, slipping her arm around his waist as she listened to his deep voice vibrate through the wall of his chest and resonate inside her. “Long, long ago in a land far away,” she mumbled, suddenly so sleepy she could barely keep her eyes open.

His chuckle reverberated in his chest. “Far away back then, but with jets, Scotland is a quickie these days. Anyway, five hundred or so years ago, Magnus Edridge, our great-great-something-grandfather, fell in love with a beautiful village girl named Nairne.” Caleb stroked Heather’s hair off her face, talking softly.

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“At first he ignored his family’s demands that he marry the Laird’s homely daughter so that he could refill the family’s depleted coffers. Those holy wars were hell on the old bank account. Instead, he lavished expensive gifts on the beautiful Nairne—the woman he truly loved—flaunting her in front of his father and the people of the village.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Oh, yeah. Worse, he gave his beloved the Edridge family betrothal jewelry.”

“Shocking. The bastard.”

“But his father kept working on him. He was too old to be plowing the local girls as if there was no tomorrow. It was time he married. Magnus, who was probably a teenager, said fine with me, Pop. I’m engaged to this gorgeous babe down in the village. We’ll tie the knot and be done with it.”

Caleb’s quiet voice and the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear coupled with the monotonous drone of the plane’s engines were relaxing her more than the over-priced massages she used to rely on.

“Plowing?”

“In the vernacular. Finally Magnus got the message that if he continued seeing Nairne he’d be banished without a sow—”

Heather grinned. “I think that was a
sou.
”

“—and he had to marry Janet of the big castle and the even bigger fortune.”

“Poor Nairne.”

“Yeah, well that’s where the Edridge family luck took a southerly turn,” Caleb said dryly, playing with a strand of her hair as he talked. “Magnus trotted down to the village to tell Nairne that he had to marry Janet. He demanded that she return the Edridge betrothal jewelry.”

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“Clearly, and surprisingly, he lived to tell the tale.”

“Nairne cursed him. Did I mention that she was a witch?”

“A Scottish witch. Cool. Did she shrivel his balls and turn them black?”

Caleb shuddered. “Bloodthirsty. No. She left those jewels intact, but cursed the ones she threw back at him.”

“He was lucky to get away alive.”

“Anyway, he married Janet, changed the family name to Edge to avoid the curse, and had three sons.”

“And lived happily ever after?”

“From the look of old Janet in her family portrait, I’d say not.”

“What was the curse?” Heather sat up to look at him.

“That was a bedtime story, Mrs. Edge. If you’re not going to sleep I have another activity in mind.”

“Dream on, big boy. Curse?”

He reached out and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. His finger traced the outer edge, making her shiver as he quoted:
“‘Duty o’er love was the choice you did make, My love you did
spurn, my heart you did break.’”
His fingers gently brushed the soft pad of her earlobe.

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Heather’s breath got tangled in her lungs as his thumb stroked her jaw. “And?”

“‘Your penance to pay, no pride you shall gain. Three sons on three sons find nothing but pain.’”

“Geez Louise,” she whispered thickly, trying to concentrate on what he was saying, when all her attention was on what he was doing. “She—” Lord. What were they talking about? Oh, yes. “She cursed his kids as well? That was cold.”

“Only five hundred years’ worth,” Caleb told her dryly, unsnapping his seat belt with his free hand.

“Ah. Now I get it. That’s why you think we’re having a boy. Because of the curse.”

“Five hundred years of only boys…Your skin feels like satin,” he murmured, distracted. “What were we—Oh, yeah. And only three to a family. We Edges take Nairne’s Curse
very
seriously.
‘Only freely
given will this curse be done,’
” he finished.
“‘To break the spell, three must work as one.’”

She frowned, trying to tamp down a shudder of anticipation as his hand smoothed down her throat. “It doesn’t quite rhyme.”

Two fingers rested on the frantic pulse throbbing at the base of her throat. He smiled. “Hey. She was a witch, not a poet.”

“What has to be freely given?”

Caleb shrugged. “Haven’t a clue.”

“Come on. In five centuries none of the three sons on three sons has figured out what will break the spell?”

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“Nope.”

“Maybe we can figure it out.”

He sat up a little straighter in his seat, and lifted an eyebrow. “On our
honeymoon
?”

“Why not? What else—” His hand skimmed down the side of her rib cage, and she wiggled in her seat.

“Don’t do that—Caleb, I am
so
ticklish—Shh. People can
hear
us.”

“
I
don’t have the giggles,” he whispered, hauling her into his lap, blanket and all.

Beneath her thighs she felt him. Hard and ready. Desire shot through her, molten and immediate. The bubble of laughter died on her lips as he kissed her softly. His lips were firm and smooth, his taste familiar as he rubbed his mouth across hers in a maddeningly erotic dance that promised paradise.

“You do know, husband mine,” she whispered thickly as heat chased up her spine, “that you’re making false promises here?”

God, she was lucky. Lucky to have met a man like Caleb in the middle of the mess her life had become.

“Relax, sweetheart.” Her new husband rested his chin on top of her head and rubbed her bare arm in a caress that was anything but comforting. Her heart rate shot up, and she wished they weren’t in public.

No matter how secluded she felt, behind a curtain just feet away sat a planeload of other passengers.

Eyes closed, she felt him reach up with his free hand, and seconds later the overhead light winked out, leaving them in semidarkness. He slipped his hand beneath the blanket and spread his fingers over her tummy. “Hi, little guy, this is your dad. How’re you doing in there? You take a nap now. Mommy and I have to have a private conversation.”

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“What private conversation?” Heather whispered.

Caleb gave her a stern look. “Shh. He’s too young to learn about the birds and the bees just yet.”

He was positive she was carrying his son because of some fairy tale that had been passed down through the generations. She didn’t care if the baby was a boy or a girl. As long as he was healthy. She’d make sure their baby knew nothing but love and security his whole life. “He’s fast asleep,” she whispered, her hand over Caleb’s for a shared moment.

The plane’s engines hummed. Resting her head on his broad chest, she listened to the steady beat of Caleb’s heart. Yes. She was lucky. Damn lucky. And she wasn’t going to waste the first day of the rest of their new life together by bringing up her past.

The first-class seats were wide and comfortable. Caleb reclined his seat, holding her snugly against him.

She felt the brush of his lips on her hair. God. She felt ridiculously, dizzily happy.

He skimmed his hand under the blanket.

Her heart literally skipped a beat. “Stop that,” she said on a whispered laugh as she wrestled his busy fingers. “Someone will walk through here and see us. Tell me what it was like growing up with two brothers in a Scottish castle in Montana.” She could barely concentrate because now he was stroking her thigh.

Her desire for this man saturated her. She wasn’t making much of an effort to stop him, merely holding onto his wrist. Absolutely no deterrent to his marauding fingers at all.

His hand cruised beneath the hem of her dress and stroked along the inside of her thigh. She shook her head, reading the intent in his dark eyes before he moved his hand higher. “Are you a member of the Mile-High club?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

Angling his body into her, he gave her a slow, wicked smile. “Wanna join?” He slid his fingers a little higher, the brush of his fingers making her skin burn.

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She bit the corner of her lower lip, eyes dancing. “Not with three hundred plus other passengers onboard, I don’t.”

But it was a lie. She’d take this man anywhere, anytime, anyhow. Damp heat started between her legs, and her heart skipped several beats as he lazily rubbed her mound through her sheer panties. Running her fingers through his hair, she drew his mouth down to hers. The kiss was slow and sweet and made her blood heat and pulse lazily in her veins.

“Should I stop then?”

“Of course,” she told him primly, spreading her knees a little to grant him better access to where she wanted, needed, to be touched.

He chuckled, sliding his palm up her midriff under both dress and blanket to feel the weight of her lace-covered breast, teasing the already hard nipple between his fingers. The erotic glide of his tongue against hers made her shift in her seat. His tongue tasted her, exploring her as his fingers drew down the lace covering her and skimmed beneath to bare flesh.

Heart fluttering, senses swimming, she murmured against his lips, “Somebody’s going to come…”

Caleb’s eyes absorbed light. “Yeah.” His voice was raspy and filled with tenderness. His mouth covered hers again, hot and hard. And brief.

She tasted his wicked smile against the underside of her jaw as he cupped her left breast. “Your breasts are bigger,” he whispered, skimming his lips across her cheekbone, as his thumb rubbed her nipple to an aching hardness. His mouth found the curve of her neck. She wanted his mouth where his hand was.

“Tender, too—No,” she grabbed at his wrist as he immediately lifted his hand away. “Don’t stop. I love your hands on me.” Vaguely she glanced around the first-class cabin. But they were completely alone. Of course someone could push through that curtain at any second—

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Breathless, aroused, she tried for reason. Okay. Not very hard. “You can’t—”

Apparently he could.

Blindly her mouth found his again as he skimmed his hand over her rib cage, hesitated at her tummy, then dipped beneath the tiny triangle of fabric of her thong. Pleasure swamped her as he cupped her intimately, then slid a long finger deep inside her wet heat. Burying her face against his shoulder, she tried to muffle her moan.

“I love touching you. Can’t get enough. Love the way your body moves when I touch you—Yes. Just like that. I love the way your eyes lose focus, and that little frown of concentration as the fever builds.”

His clever fingers moved inside her, knowing just where to touch, where to stroke.

Desire, already razor sharp, clutched at her belly, and her hips lifted off the seat without her brain giving instructions. She had to clear her throat to get any words out. “The flight attendant…”

“Won’t disturb us, I promise.” He eased another finger inside her slick heat. She gasped at the exquisite sensation, arching her hips off his lap, her body bowed as arrows of pleasure shot through her nerve endings. Heather pushed against his hands, at the same time using her own over his to press them down harder, increasing the pressure. Biting down on his shoulder, she managed to muffle her cry as he drew a climax out of her that went on and on.

When at last her body was once again her own, Heather lay limply against him, her breath snagging, her heart going a mile a minute.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart.”

Like bubbles in Cristal champagne, her joy fizzed and danced inside her. When she was with him time seemed to stop. He loved her, this man with the hot teal eyes and incredible mouth. And she loved him back.

There was just a small, annoying little voice in the back of her mind whispering that although her new

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husband had kissed her senseless, heated her beyond boiling, and made her come,
he
hadn’t lost control for a second.

Heather was cradled on his lap, her head tucked against his shoulder, her body lax, breathing slow and even. Caleb touched his lips to the top of her head, inhaling the fragrance of her hair.

Most of the passengers had their overhead lights off, casting the cabin into a relaxing dusk. She’d been too wired to sleep, so he’d put a light sleep spell on her. With the pregnancy she needed to rest. And the next few days were going to be hard on her.