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Authors: Melissa Mayhue

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Paranormal, #Historical, #Fiction

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BOOK: Warrior's Last Gift
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C
hapter
N
ine

“I’ve never seen wee bowls such as these.” Jeanne scooped her bread into the best broth she’d ever tasted, served in a small, rounded bowl carved from wood. “This tastes wonderful.”

The big man laughed and handed a bowl to Eric, who hovered at her side, still on his feet.

“Here. Fill your belly with this. The fish will be done soon. And we need something to drink, as well.”

He pulled out three wooden cups and filled them from a large flask lying at his side.

Jeanne accepted hers and took a sip. It reminded her of the honey wine they made at home, only sweeter and thicker on the tongue, with a sharp bite as she swallowed.

“Mead?” Eric asked, sniffing the cup he’d accepted.

“The finest you’ll ever taste, warrior,” the man assured.

“Eric,” Jeanne corrected around another bite. “His name is Eric MacNicol and I am Jeanne MacGhie Horvesson of Castle MacGahan.” She could hardly believe they hadn’t yet exchanged names. Proof of how intoxicating the food was.

“So you are,” the big man said, dipping his bowl into the bubbling pot before looking up at them with a big smile. “And you may call me Halldor O’Donar.”

Jeanne returned the smile as she scooped up more of the delicious, salty broth. She liked the big man. Though she should have been intimidated by his size—he stood at least a head taller than Eric—his easy manner and ready laughter gave her comfort.

“What sets you on the road so far from home, O’Donar?” Eric asked.

“A debt of honor,” the big man answered without pause, his expression turning serious. “Keeping a promise to a friend.”

“Us as well.” The similarity only reinforced the bond Jeanne felt with Halldor. “Though ours is now fulfilled and we begin our journey on the morrow to return home.”

“Indeed.” Halldor rotated the stakes holding the fish over the fire. “I am but at the beginning of my journey. My friend has asked me to watch over his son. The lad is in dire need of guidance, as he is only at the beginning of his own dangerous path.”

“Which direction do you travel from here?”

The tone of Eric’s question made Jeanne think more of an interrogation than a visit with friends. It would seem that Eric didn’t feel the same level of comfort with their new friend as she did.

“North,” Halldor answered, his face breaking once again into a smile. “I believe our fish is done, from the smell of it. And where are my manners?” He stood and refilled their cups before taking the fish from the fire and passing a stake to each of them.

Eric finally sat down next to her.

The salty broth, though delicious, was stoking a mighty thirst. She drained the contents of her cup and held it out for more at almost the same moment Eric did.

“I’ll admit that I was wrong about Dobbie,” she said, by way of offering an olive branch. “But Halldor is altogether different. Surely you can feel that as well as I do.”

Eric arched an eyebrow and tipped back his cup.

“Who is this Dobbie?” Halldor asked.

“We met Dobbie Caskie on the side of the road as we traveled. He claimed to be headed to his mother’s people, the MacCabes, on the Isle of Skye. Jeanne here felt sorry for him and insisted that we invite him to travel with us and share what food we’d brought along.”

“He was quite young to be traveling alone and he looked so very hungry.” Jeanne shook her head. “My heart went out to the poor lad.”

“I would expect nothing less of you, my lady,” Halldor offered gallantly. “So you shared your food with the boy.”

“And the next morning,” Eric continued, “this ‘poor’ lad of hers stole one of our horses and most of our food.”

“Ah, I see. Dobbie Caskie of Skye, is it? I’ll remember that name.” Halldor nodded thoughtfully. “So it is for this reason that you were reluctant to accept my offer of hospitality. For many, trust doesn’t come easily.”

Eric looked in her direction. “And some are much too trusting for their own good.”

“Those whose hearts are open and accepting, perhaps,” Halldor agreed. “But as you can see, I’ve food aplenty and two horses that travel with me, so you’ve naught to fear in this meeting.”

Jeanne nodded vigorously, setting her world to spinning around her. That mead of Halldor’s had quite the kick.

“I have to sleep,” she said, surprised that she’d voiced the thought aloud.

“We all have a long road to travel on the morrow. You two take your rest; I’ll clean up here. No.” Halldor held up a hand to stop Eric’s protest. “See to your lady this night. Only a fool would turn down a second chance when it’s been given as a gift.”

Eric spread her blanket close to the fire, and she lay down, pulling the covers up over her shoulders.

“That’s the second time you’ve made reference to a second chance,” Eric noted, his words sounding heavy and slurred. “Am I missing something yer trying to tell me?”

Halldor’s laugh boomed before he answered. “Only that by the sun’s rise we’ll part ways, and who can know how long before we meet again?”


If
we’ll meet again,” Eric corrected, lying down next to her.

“Oh, my warrior friend, I feel sure our paths will cross again.”

Jeanne sighed and snuggled back against Eric’s warm body. His arm draped over her, possessively pulling her closer to him, and she had to force herself not to giggle with pleasure as his breathing turned to soft snores.

Thanks to their new friend, her stomach was full and her heart was light. This was one of the best nights she could remember in a long, long time.

C
hapter
T
en

A tickling to Jeanne’s nose awoke her. She lay still, hoping the irritation would disappear, in no hurry to move from the warm comfort of her nest of blankets.

It was not to be. As regularly as a heartbeat, something soft flitted across her nose and back again.

She lifted a hand to discover the fur under which she slept was the culprit, blown back and forth by the slow, steady breathing of her sleeping companion.

Her sleeping companion! A trill of excitement prickled deep inside, adding to her warmth.

Cracking her eyes open only the barest slit, she discovered it was still night and, from the looks of the stars overhead, it would be a good long while before the sun made an appearance for the day. Much too early for her to move from this wonderful spot.

She shifted a bit under the big arm draped across her, and turned her face toward Eric. Her nose nestled against the base of his throat and she breathed in his essence.

How many times had she lain like this, curled into his embrace, sheltered in his arms, awaiting the break of morning when they’d both have to return to their real lives, pretending their night together had never happened?

Eymer had been right all along.

No matter how she might fight the truth of it, she loved Eric. She had always loved him. Would always love him. She knew that now. Admitted it to herself. Her feelings for him were so much a part of her that there was no way she could separate them out and pack them away.

Perhaps this had been Eymer’s purpose in insisting that Eric accompany her. Even from beyond the grave, her husband was determined to prove that he knew best.

Slowly, she moved her hand up to lay it over Eric’s heart. Beneath her fingers a ragged, racing tattoo beat in his chest.

She looked up to find him watching her.

“How long has it been since I last told you how beautiful you are when you first awake?” he asked softly.

“Too long,” she returned, stretching up to meet the kiss he offered.

If only it could stay like this. If only real life didn’t dawn with the rising of the sun and turn them back into the enemies they’d become.

His lips were warm and tender against hers, his tongue insistent in its demands as he rolled her to her back beneath him. His fingers met the demands of her laces as skillfully as a master while she fumbled with his shirt like some inexperienced novice.

Her shift slipped from first one shoulder and then the other and his mouth covered her eager breast as her heart pounded in her chest until she thought it might break free of her ribs.

Her body thrummed with a sensitivity born from having waited so very long for this moment.

His touch was better than the finest liquid she’d ever drunk. Better than the best food she’d ever eaten, even at her hungriest. Even last night.

“By the saints,” she gasped, remembering that they weren’t alone. “O’Donar!” she hissed.

Eric stilled. A low, frustrated growl rolled over her skin and a moment later, his head emerged from under the covers, his gaze locking with hers.

“Bollocks,” he muttered under his breath.

She bit her bottom lip to stifle the irrational giggle forming in her throat and clutched the fur to her breast as she sat up.

O’Donar was nowhere to be seen. Neither him, nor his bedroll, nor the massive destrier that had been tied up next to Eric’s horse.

But O’Donar’s second animal remained behind, contentedly munching on the dry weeds at his feet.

“He’s gone. Why would he no stay the night in his own camp?”

“I canna say, but I’m no really surprised,” Eric answered, draping one of their blankets around her shoulders. “He as much as warned us it would be so.”

“But he left his horse and one of his packs. Surely he intends to return.”

She couldn’t imagine leaving a valuable animal behind, but it made no sense that he’d pack up his belongings if he only intended to be away from the camp for a short time.

“A loan, perhaps?” Eric rubbed a hand over his eyes. “He did say something about seeing us again, though my memories are fair muddled after drinking that mead of his.”

Her memories of the evening were slightly confused, too, as if she’d watched the events from outside their circle rather than actually participating.

“It was all very strange, do you no agree? If no for the horse, I could almost believe none of this happened.”

“It happened, true enough.” Eric tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze fixing upon her as his thumb lingered on her cheek. “All of it.”

“I suppose we should . . . what I mean to say is, do you think we . . .” Her face heated under his stroking touch and she struggled to finish her thought. “Should we prepare to leave early?”

“No,” he responded, lifting his other hand to cup her face. “I think we should finish what we’ve begun.”

“I’m no sure that’s a wise path for us to take.” No matter how much she might want the same thing.

“Wise or no, it’s the one laid out for us to travel.” He reached down for her hand, clasping it between his. “I’m slow to think a thing through, Jeanne. I take overly long to look at all sides. But I’ve done that now and I realize I’d be a bigger fool than I already have been if I let you slip away from me again.”

He lifted her hand to his lips to place a kiss upon her palm. “None of what’s passed is half so important as the love we shared. The secrets you kept are of no matter. I accept the reason you chose as you did. You did what you thought best because I was too busy trying to outwit what was to come. I see now that I canna control what the future brings. But whatever that may be, I want to meet it with you at my side, as my wife.”

“Oh, Eric!” she sighed, tangling her fingers in his hair to pull his lips to meet hers.

He loved her! As he lay on his back and pulled her down on top of him, she thought her heart might burst with her happiness.

“You’ve yet to answer me, sweet Jeanne,” he breathed into her ear. “Do you want me still? Will you take me—selfish, slow, stubborn fool that I am—as yer husband? Will you agree to spend yer life at my side?”

How could he possibly doubt her answer?

“There is nothing I want more than to spend my life with you. Yes, Eric, yes. A thousand times yes.”

He rolled her to her back, swallowing her words in his kiss. With his knee, he pushed her legs apart and she welcomed him back to the spot where he belonged.

It had been such a long, long time since last he lay over her like this. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her nose into his strong, solid chest.

The hard, ready evidence of his desire pressed against her and she lifted her hips to meet his thrust.

“You are mine,” he whispered into her ear. “Just as I am yours. Now and for all time.”

He filled her, thrust after thrust, her need for him growing until the muscles in her body seized, tightening and releasing in happy little spasms that left her gasping for air.

Once more he drove inside her, holding her so close that his heartbeat drummed in her ear as he found his own release.

“This is how our lives are meant to be,” he said tenderly, sweeping her sweat-dampened hair from her face. “We’ve been given a second chance, and I will grab on with both hands and never let go.”

He rolled to her side and curved his body around hers, holding her close until his breathing turned slow and steady.

Lying comfortably snuggled in the arms of her love, Jeanne basked in the afterglow. She was the luckiest woman in the known world.

Lady Danielle had been correct. Eymer’s sending her on this quest with Eric
had
been a gift.

Her life lay spread before her, her dreams waiting to be fulfilled. Eymer had given her an opportunity for a bright future, filled with all the possibilities she could ever desire.

Thank you, Eymer Horvesson.

Snuggling back against the man she loved with all her heart, she hoped that wherever Eymer’s spirit was, he heard and knew how much she would always treasure her warrior’s last gift.

Click through for a sneak peek of the next magical romance by Melissa Mayhue

W
ARRIOR
R
EBORN

Available November 2012 from Pocket Books

It felt as if he’d just laid his head on the pillow when Chase awoke to a gentle breeze brushing over his chest. His groggy confusion told him he’d been sleeping deeply, but it did nothing to help him identify the source of the insistent green light flashing in the room.

He sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face, scanning the room for evidence of entry.

His door was closed and he certainly hadn’t left any windows open. It made no sense at all, a breeze blowing in his room like this. No more sense than the brilliant shots of light sparkling around him.

Tossing his covers back, he climbed from his bunk and struggled to stand as the floor heaved under his feet.

“What the hell?” he muttered, completely awake now.

Arms outstretched for balance, he attempted to cross to the door as the floor rolled like an angry sea beneath him. Earthquake? They had them up here, but he’d never experienced anything like this.

He’d barely made it two feet before a gust of wind whipped past him, battering at his bare skin. The lights changed to a brilliant green splattered with a million colored twinkles, sparkling and dancing, shooting around the room like angry shards of rainbow.

A second heavy gust toppled his chair and knocked him from his feet, battering his ears as if with words shouted from afar. He held up his arms to cushion his landing as he fell, but the floor he expected to hit had disappeared.

Instead, he felt himself tossed into the air and slammed forward into an endless void, the incessant chant of “Now, now, now!” ringing in his ears as his mind faded to black.

BOOK: Warrior's Last Gift
10.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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