The MacLomain Series: Later Years - a Scottish Time Travel Romance Boxed Set

by Sky Purington

  “While I’m thankful for all you’ve done, you don’t have to stand outside tonight, Tait,” she said. “Rònan’s up and about now so I should be fine.”

  “I do not think you’ll be seeing much of the Highland dragon this eve,” he said. “So I will remain.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “It’s way too early. Go enjoy yourself. If you’re set on coming back later, that’s cool, but you really don’t need to.”

  “Might I come in and join you for some mead before you rest,” he said softly.

  Their eyes met and held. He was a handsome devil, but she knew inviting him in would lead to nothing but trouble. While she liked to think she could simply slake her lust like Rònan was so clearly able to, would it be so simple? Now wasn’t the time for complications. Not between her and Rònan, of course, but anything that could hinder her from watching out for Robert. And while she had no-strings-attached-relationships in the past, she sensed having sex with a dragon shifter would be another story altogether.

  “I don’t think that’s such a great idea, Tait.” She sighed. “And we both know why.”

  A twinkle met his eyes. “I can keep my hands to myself, woman.”

  But could she? While she didn’t have nearly the same fiery reaction to him that she did with Rònan, she was way overdue for sexual release. She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Not tonight, Handsome.”

  “As you wish,” he said, disappointment in his voice as he leaned against the wall beside the front door. “If you change your mind, I will be right here.”

  “Tait,” she groaned. “Go back to the main lodge and enjoy yourself. Seriously. For me.”

  He shook his head, stubborn. “I remain here for you.”

  “All right.” Erin frowned. “I’m not gonna argue with you.”

  Before she changed her mind altogether, she stood on her tip-toes, kissed his cheek and headed inside. As she suspected, all was quiet, and Rònan was nowhere to be found. Ignoring a twinge of jealousy when she imagined what he was up to, she shrugged out of her cloak and warmed her hands in front of the fire.

  Food, mugs and a pitcher of ale had been left on the table. So she filled a cup to the brim and settled in to enjoy the fire and some peace of mind that Rònan was alive and well.

  Alone time.

  Something she rarely got since traveling back in time.

  After a few hearty swigs, she studied her blunt fingernails. They would grow...change. Bjorn had tried to explain what it would feel like. How they would lengthen and become talons when she shifted. Erin swallowed back fear. Something she had been doing more and more of lately. She might keep it well hidden, but she was frightened by what she would become.

  “It willnae be as bad as you think, lass.”

  Erin jolted at the sound of Rònan’s words floating within her mind. They felt different than before. Far more erotic.

  So she pushed him away. “Get out of my head.”

  “Aye,” he murmured. “If only I could.”

  “You can,” she assured, essentially talking to herself because that’s what it felt like save the fact she was instantly aroused. “Get out.”

  “I mean to protect you, lass,” he said. “And will.”

  “Get out.”

  “Aye, then.”

  Everything went silent. Hopefully, Rònan was busy getting busy. Erin scowled even as she thought it. Did he really just screw the redhead he was dancing with earlier? What’s worse, was he speaking within her mind while he was at it? Frustrated, she downed her mug and went for a refill. But something caught her attention as she poured. A shift of shadow in the torchlight outside the back door.

  So she grabbed a few daggers off the wall and snuck in that direction. Edging closer slowly, she narrowed her eyes. Someone was sitting on the ground, leaning against the building. Instead of letting them know she was there, she came around fast, crouched and held a blade to their neck.

  She blinked several times. Rònan?

  “Och, lass, you’ve an admirable way with a blade,” he murmured as his eyes met hers.

  It was the first time she had looked into his eyes since that first night, and it hit her like a ton of bricks. Or a punch to the gut. Either way, the wind was knocked right out of her.

  “Rònan,” she whispered, struggling to catch her breath. “What are you doing out here?”

  Erin pulled on every ounce of training Bjorn had given her. How to push past the feelings looking into a male dragon’s eyes could invoke. And she had mastered it with him, Tait and the others. But as she feared might be the case, it was ten times harder with Rònan.

  “I didnae want to tempt you,” he murmured, clearly struggling as much as she was.

  Only when a tremble rippled down his body did she realize he wore nothing but pants and boots. Worry over him managed to pull her out of her stupor.

  “Why the hell don’t you have on more clothes?” Erin frowned as she stood and held out her hand. “C’mon, we need to get you warmed up.”

  “Nay.” Rònan shook his head. “I’ve been running too bloody hot. I’ll be fine right here.”

  “Now,” she stated, voice firm, eyes even firmer. “Let’s go.”

  “Nay,” he reiterated. “Get some rest, lass. I know Tait’s around the front. I’ll protect you from here.”

  “Stubborn,” she said under her breath. But Rònan mentioning the Viking gave her an idea.

  “Suit yourself.” She headed inside. “I think I’ll invite Tait in after all.”

  “Bloody hell if you will,” he muttered.

  She kept a smile hidden as he followed.

  “In front of the fire,” she ordered and poured him some ale. Focusing on protecting him helped distract her from the sheer lust she was feeling. “Strip down if you need to. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  “Nay,” he mumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest and stood in front of the fire. “I’ve already dried my pants with magic.”

  Erin almost overfilled the mug as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. Damn, he was hot as hell. Heat flared between her thighs as she eyed his snug leather pants, and broad, muscled, tattooed chest and arms. She swallowed. Maybe leaving him outside would have been the smarter move.

  Rònan inhaled sharply then released a long, slow breath as he closed his eyes, shook his head, and whispered, “Gods give me strength, you smell good.”

  Doing her best to keep her eyes averted, she held out a mug. “Here, drink. It’ll help warm you.”

  “Many thanks,” he murmured and took the mug. “Will you not look at me then? You did so outside, and we managed through.”

  “Likely because I had a blade to your neck,” she reminded.

  “If I’ve the strength to look at you then you’ve the same strength, lass,” he said softly. “Please.”

  “Not gonna lie. I’m too damned aroused.” She shook her head and turned away. “Drink your ale and warm yourself, Rònan.”

  He growled in frustration. “We need to push past this if we’re to protect the Bruce as we should.”

  “We don’t need to look at each other to protect Robert.”

  “Aye, but we do.” He downed the ale in a few gulps. “Especially if we’re to battle alongside one another. Eye contact is important.”

  She hated to admit it, but he was right. “I’ll get there. Promise. It just doesn’t look like it’ll be happening right now.” Though it was about the last thing she wanted to say for more reasons than one, she said, “Why aren’t you still with the redhead? After you warm up, it might be best if you rejoin her.”

  “Nay.” He refilled his mug and handed her one as well. “Whilst she was pleasant enough I couldnae seem to muster desire for her.”

  Erin almost cursed when a rush of satisfaction blew through her. “You two seemed to be doing just fine dancing.”

  “Only because I meant to make you jealous,” he whispered. “Because I felt the same when I saw you with Darach and
the Vikings.”

  Though she should have been surprised by his bluntness, she wasn’t. Like her, he accepted what simmered between them for what it was. Simple lust based on dragon blood.

  “Well, you’ve got nothing to be jealous of because Darach and I are just friends and me and my Viking posse have an understanding.” She took several sips as she navigated around him to the fire without meeting his eyes. “All that aside, we both need to remember that not only is what we’re feeling nothing more than a dragon thing but that Jackie’s out there somewhere waiting for you.”

  “Viking posse?” he said. “Is that what you’re calling Tait and Bjorn?”

  “Yup.”

  “Why did you not take Tait tonight?” Rònan’s question was a deep rumble close to her ear as he moved behind her. “I know he offered and I know you were tempted to accept.”

  Right. Because their thoughts mingled.

  “You know the answer to that,” she said softly because she didn’t trust her vocal chords.

  “Aye,” he said. “You think it would have complicated things had you taken Tait to your bed, but I dinnae ken that. Perhaps it would have eased the ache you suffer now? Would easing that ache not make it easier to focus on what lies ahead?”

  She was tempted to turn and confront him but stayed put. “Not if I ended up having stronger feelings for him because of it. Who knows, there’s a good chance I wouldn’t want to leave here if I did.”

  “I saw how you were with the wee Bruce earlier,” he said. “So I dinnae doubt you would do whatever was needed to protect him.”

  “How did you see?” she started then shook her head. “You never really left with the redhead did you?”

  “I dinnae want the redhead,” he murmured, words still close to her ear, his body a warm wall at her back. “I want you, lass.”

  Erin closed her eyes and focused on breathing evenly. “No, you want Jackie.”

  “Aye, part of me,” he admitted. “But it feels more like desiring a figment of my imagination. ‘Tis nothing like what I feel now. Here.” His hand fell on her shoulder. “With you.”

  Hell, this was pure torture.

  Blood rushed through her veins so rapidly she grew lightheaded.

  “I can’t.” She shook her head but couldn’t manage to step away, could not get her feet to work. “What if you and Jackie are meant for one another? I love that woman to death and would hate myself if...”

  Save for the crackling fire and howling wind, the room grew quiet as her unsaid words hung in the air. As if his feet were as glued to the floor as hers, Rònan didn’t move for several long moments. Yet he eventually stepped away, his voice soft. “You’re right, lass. ‘Twould not be right.”

  “I wish I knew more of this connection betwixt Jackie and me.” Keeping his distance, he stood beside her and ran a hand over his face as he stared at the fire. “While some of my memories of her involve slight desire, most have more to do with her soothing voice and pale brown eyes. ‘Twas a dark place and they lent comfort.”

  “Understandable. Jackie’s a pretty peaceful person for the most part.” Erin frowned as she mulled over his words. “But you mean dark brown eyes, right?”

  “Nay, definitely light brown,” Rònan said. “Almost golden at times.”

  “That’s weird because Jackie definitely has super dark brown eyes,” Erin said. “Guys love them combined with her platinum hair. They can’t get enough of her.”

  “Then she must not be standing next to you,” he said, voice a little guttural. “Because there’s no comparison to ebony hair and violet eyes.”

  “Dragon eyes likely meant to lure dragon males,” she reminded. “But thanks.”

  “’Tis true I’ve never met another with your eye color,” he conceded. “But dinnae think for a moment you’re not every bit as beautiful as Jackie...if not more so.”

  “Be sweet all you want. We’re not doing this.” No matter how much she wanted to. “Back to Jackie’s eye color. Do you think the discrepancy has something to do with the Celtic Otherworld?”

  “I dinnae know.” He gulped down more ale. “All I know was that they werenae dark brown in the least.”

  Erin knew she should leave it alone but was curious. “What about her hair? Was it straight? Long?”

  Though she sensed he wanted to look at her, his eyes remained as trained on the fire as hers. “Aye, ‘twas long. But nay, ‘twas only slightly curled. Not nearly as curly as yours. So maybe wavy is a better word.”

  “Strange, because Jackie’s hair is straight and thick. She’s got the sort of hair models would die for.” Her eyes finally went to him, she was so curious. “Another possible side effect of the Otherworld?”

  “I dinnae know.” Evidently as curious, his eyes met hers. “Tell me more about what she looks like.”

  Genuinely worried that he might have been misled by the evil Brae Stewart and his life was more at risk than ever, she was able to set aside lust and look at him. And damn, was he worth looking at. “She’s tall. Around five foot nine.” Erin gave it some thought. “Full lips. Men seem to love those too. High cheekbones, thick dirty blond lashes. Oh!” She touched just to the right of her eye. “She has a little crown shaped birthmark right here.”

  “Crown shaped?” He cocked his head and took her hand, his eyes falling to her ring. “Odd considering there’s a crown on these rings, aye?”

  “That is a little odd,” she agreed, shocked it hadn’t occurred to her sooner.

  “I couldnae tell her height as I only recall lying down when I saw her. Her lips were full enough, but her lashes were as pale as her hair,” he continued. “And she had no birthmark. I would have remembered that.”

  “This is bizarre.” She took his mug so she could refill both cups. “What about her breasts? Were they big, small, medium?”

  Rònan snorted. “Believe it or not, I only focused on her face.”

  “Well, Jackie’s as lucky in that department as she is in every other,” she said as she poured. “God love her, she’s fully stacked.”

  “Stacked?” His brows perked. “I take it that means her breasts are large.”

  She chuckled. “More than twice the size of mine.”

  “It sounds like she’s considerably taller than you,” he pointed out, voice getting husky and brogue thickening. “I think yer breasts are quite...”

  When he trailed off, she said, “Small? Yeah, pretty much.”

  “They well suit yer size, lass,” he murmured. “And look large enough on your frame.”

  Her size had always worked against her in the military. But she’d trained hard and knew how to use it to her advantage. Bulk meant nothing. Skill and timing did. And then there was attitude. That’s what always put her on top in the end.

  “Honestly, outside of the whole dragon thing, I’m surprised you’re into me.” She handed him the mug. “From what I’ve seen, you seem to favor the robust type.” Her eyes narrowed as she considered him. “Your mom’s a tiny thing, though.” Then her eyes widened. “Please tell me you don’t have a mommy complex.”

  Rònan choked on his ale but managed to swallow it down. He obviously needed no translation as to what she meant. “Hell, if you’re determined to keep me from you, that’s the way to do it, lass.” He shook his head, a mad scowl on his face. “Though you’re small like her, you look nothing like my Ma. ‘Twould be bloody alarming if you did.”

  “It sure would.” Erin grinned at him, thrilled that they were able to look at one another without lust getting in the way. She was genuinely happy that they could just talk. “And luckily, you look nothing like my father.”

  The minute she said it blood seemed to drain out of her and pool at her feet.

  Had she just referred to her dad?

  “Erin?” Rònan’s brows shot together as he took her elbow to steady her. “Are you all right?”

  “I need to sit,” she tried to say, but nothing came out.

  Before she knew it, he scooped he
r up into his arms.

  “No.” She closed her eyes, way too aware of his body despite her conflicting emotions. “In a chair, Rònan. Please.”

  “Aye,” he whispered and sat her in a chair. Crouching, he stayed close without touching. But his eyes never left her face, and his voice was soft. “Speak when you can, lass.”

  “I can speak,” she managed to croak, a whole new fear flashing to the front when she realized he heard her thoughts. When she realized he likely knew that she was losing her voice.

  “Aye,” he murmured. When she tried to turn her face away, he cupped her cheek and turned it back, those bright green eyes of his locking with hers. “I know, lass.”

  But did he know? Had Nicole told him? Not one to sit on ‘what if’s’ she did her best to ignore his touch and put it out there. “So you know I’m losing my voice.”

  The flicker of unease in his eyes told her everything. Rònan had no idea. He must have been referring to her distress over her father.

  She supposed it was better that he knew of her upcoming affliction if they were going to work together as a team to protect Robert. How he responded now would make or break him.

  “I didnae know of your voice but as I see it ‘tis not half as bad as losing your mind to an Otherworld you have no control over.”

  So his plight was worse than hers? But as their eyes held and she saw the compassion in his gaze, she knew that wasn’t how he intended it at all.

  He was trying to relate.

  Trying to make it seem like it was no big deal.

  That they were both facing something they had no control over.

  “No,” she whispered, glad her voice worked. “It’s likely not as bad as losing your mind to the Otherworld.”

  Rònan cupped her other cheek, his eyes locked with hers. “We will face what we must together, lass.”

  Erin tried to respond, but nothing came out. This time, she knew it was her voice issues kicking in. She wondered at the timing. But hell if she would shy away from it, so she pointed to her throat and shook her head.

  “So you cannae speak right now.” His gaze never left hers. “’Tis all right.” Instead of questioning her further, he sat down in the chair beside her and held her hand, eyes not on her but on the fire. “Then I’ll talk.” His glanced at her. “Aye or nay because I’m just as content sitting with you in silence.”