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

by Sky Purington

  “Oh no,” she murmured and crouched in front of them, trying to meet Robert’s eyes. “What’s the matter, Honey?”

  He turned his head away, voice catching. “Nothing is wrong, M’lady.”

  Erin sidled around until she could meet his bloodshot eyes. “That would be Erin to you.” She cupped his cheek. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

  “’Tis not admirable,” he whispered around tears.

  “I beg to differ,” she said softly. “I think anything you have to share is admirable.”

  “Och, nay,” he murmured and sniffled. “This isnae.”

  “All right. That sounds serious.” She took his hand. “Any chance I can take Laird Grant’s place so we can talk?”

  Robert eyed her for a long moment. “I wouldnae want to offend Laird Grant.”

  “Me neither.” Her eyes met Grant’s. “Would it offend you if I sat with Robert?”

  Grant smiled softly and stood. “Not at all if that is what he wishes.”

  Erin sat and took Robert, who curled up on her lap but not before his eyes went to Grant’s. “Ye willnae go far, aye, Uncle?”

  “Nay, lad.” Grant stroked the side of his head. “I’ll be waiting just outside the door whilst ye speak with yer friend.”

  “Thank ye,” Robert whispered and rested his head against Erin’s chest.

  Erin nodded to Grant then held Robert as he sobbed quietly. She said nothing at first just let him cry. When his sniffles became less frequent, she murmured comforting words. “You’re going to be okay. Nobody’s getting close to you with my friends and me around.”

  “Aye, Erin,” he whispered after several long moments. “But that doesnae make missing my Ma and Da any less so.”

  “No.” She stroked his hair. “I can’t imagine it does.”

  “I know that makes me weak and not fit to rule my country someday,” he said.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” she said. “I think a great ruler should value his parents, what makes them so special. I think if more leaders valued their upbringing and took pride in family this world might be a better place.”

  “Why?” he whispered.

  Erin bit back tears. Her life and mistakes had no place here.

  Comforting someone who could make a difference did.

  “Because our family makes us who we are,” she said. “They teach us compassion and forgiveness. They give us a sense of belonging that we can pass on to others.”

  “And that can help me lead Scotland?”

  “Maybe. Yes,” she said. “Remembering that you understand unity. That people can truly care and watch out for each other.”

  After several long minutes and a few more sniffles, Robert sat up and met her eyes. “Do ye mind if I ask ye something?”

  “Not at all.”

  “It might seem untoward.”

  “Nothing you could say would seem untoward.”

  Little did she know what was coming.

  “Yer friend Cassie went blind, and yer friend Nicole is going deaf.” His quizzical, innocent eyes stayed with hers. “What ails ye, Erin?”

  She might not be a fan of saying it to anyone else, but for whatever reason, she had no such issue with Robert. “I’m losing my voice.”

  “So ye willnae be able to talk?”

  Erin shook her head. “No.”

  “I am sorry,” he said, heart in his eyes before he rested his head against her chest again. “Might I ask ye something else?”

  “Yes.”

  Again, little did she know what was coming.

  “Were ye close with yer Ma and Da?”

  Her response caught in her throat as she stroked his hair.

  “Erin?” he murmured when she didn’t respond. Heck if he wasn’t already the diplomat he would someday have to be. “’Tis not an answer ye need to give.”

  But he had put it out there. That meant she needed to answer it to strengthen their bond so that he would trust her without question.

  “My mother passed away when I was very young,” she finally said. “My father raised me and was my best friend.”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, nuzzling closer. “So ye found this sense of unity and family with just your Da?”

  “I did.” She bit back emotion. “He was incredible.”

  “’Twas just him, though,” Robert said. “What made him so special?”

  “He watched out for me,” she said. “He believed in me and my dreams.”

  “What were your dreams?”

  Erin almost said it didn’t matter, but something stopped her...something born of the past. More importantly, she didn’t want to lie to Robert.

  “I wanted to be a singer.”

  “Like a minstrel?”

  Erin almost smiled at the terminology but felt too sad. “Yeah, like a minstrel.”

  Robert wrapped his arms around her waist and kept his cheek against her chest. “Will ye sing for me, Erin? I would verra much like to hear it.”

  Erin stared at the fire and swallowed hard.

  The last time she’d sung was to lend Rònan comfort when he fell into that unnatural slumber. To do it again seemed like tempting fate. Would this be the final time? Would the last note die along with her voice?

  “Please, Erin,” Robert whispered.

  Though momentarily frozen, the sound of desperation in his voice touched her.

  “Okay,” she said hoarsely and cleared her throat. “Okay.”

  So though terrified...she sang.

  For Robert, to Robert, she sang.

  Chapter Fourteen

  NO MATTER WHO YOU ARE when you hear it for the first time, listening to an angel sing will change how you see things. How you feel about things. The sound gets inside your soul and does not let go.

  Because of the wind tunnel created by the wall walk in her chamber, Erin’s sweet voice carried down to the hall below. A sound he swore would continue to echo off the walls of his castle for centuries to come. A haunting, peaceful sound that would feed the soul of this great beast until it was nothing but dust.

  Rònan stayed with his clan as he told Erin he would. But he had stopped drinking and remained as merry as possible without her there. It was no easy task. He would have preferred to fight arousal all night as long as she was in his arms. Though she seemed convinced he wanted to stay so that he could be with another lass, it was the furthest thing from his mind.

  “Erin has a bloody beautiful voice,” his Da said as he joined Rònan in front of the fire. “Your Ma and I are verra impressed.”

  Despite the joyous occasion, it had been Erin’s singing that put everyone in a gentler mood. One that had women and men embracing. One that had everyone searching out their wee bairns and traveling off to celebrate with their immediate kin. A voice that made everyone grateful they were still alive, and their families were close and well-protected.

  “’Tis good that,” Rònan murmured. It was clear his parents liked Erin.

  “We’re equally impressed with yer behavior tonight, son,” his father said. “But we remain curious.”

  “About what?” he said, eyes still on the fire. He hadn’t always pleased his parents over the years, but he never doubted their love for him. So what was happening now almost seemed too natural. Was he playing right into their hands? Into what they ultimately wanted for him? And if he was, would that be such a bad thing? No. Did it lend him contentment? No. All it did was make him realize that he was late becoming the man he should have already been.

  “Will ye let her get away so easily?” his Da said.

  Would he let Erin get away so easily when she was obviously different than the rest? For too long he had lived the way he wanted to, determined to be judged by no one. Living by his own free will. Things went as he saw fit, especially once he became laird. To be devoted to one lass seemed almost unthinkable...until Erin.

  “Erin has her own mind. She will do what she wants.” Rònan looked at his father. He knew there was more to this. �
��Might ye ask the question truly on yer mind?”

  “Aye, lad.” Interest lit Colin’s eyes. “Do ye love her?”

  “Love?” By instinct, Rònan shook his head. “I know nothing of it. Do I like Erin? Aye. Verra much so.”

  His father contemplated him for so long, Rònan almost repeated himself.

  “’Tis a good start,” Colin said at last and stood. “Might ye not join her then?” He arched his brows. “To keep her safe that is.”

  “I thought I might sit here a while longer,” Rònan said.

  “Yer Ma and I want the great hall to ourselves,” Colin informed. “’Tis a rare day that a lass’s singing clears it so. She gave this clan an added level of peace that even yer Ma and I were unable to give over these long years of unrest. ”

  “Aye, Da. ‘Tis true enough.” All night he had wanted to run as fast as he could to Erin’s chamber but had waited it out...had done what was right. But Rònan knew as he stood and embraced his father that he’d been given the clear to at last leave.

  Still in Colin’s embrace, his da whispered in his ear, “Ye’ve made us proud in ways ye dinnae even ken yet.”

  Rònan nodded and pulled away. “Sleep well, Da.”

  He didn’t wait for a response but took the stairs two at a time.

  Anything to get back to Erin.

  Anything to lay eyes on her again.

  Dragon-shifter—young and in the best shape of his life—Rònan was still winded when he slowed outside her door. And it wasn’t from exertion.

  Nay.

  It was from pure nerves.

  As always, Tait and Bjorn stood silently outside her door.

  “All is well,” he said softly. “I’m here now.”

  Bjorn nodded his acknowledgment but didn’t move. Not that he intended such, Rònan knew that even if he managed to cut both down by sword these men’s spirits would still watch over her.

  “Then ye have my thanks.” He embraced them. All contrary emotions aside, as laird his top priority should not only be the safety of his clan but gratefulness to men who cared so much for their own. Especially those who were his ancestors. Odd thought that he likely descended from one of them.

  He was about to enter when Bjorn shook his head and stopped him. Though Rònan frowned, he soon understood why. Erin was asleep in front of the fire, and Grant was lifting the slumbering wee king from her lap.

  When his uncle exited with Robert in his arms, Rònan didn’t miss the edge of warning in Grant’s soft voice. “Ye care for her like no other lad, or ye’ve me to face.”

  Rònan nodded before he entered. Though tempted to leave her resting peacefully, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. So he scooped her up, brought her to the bed, laid her down and removed her boots.

  Then he debated.

  The person he had always been would have crawled in next to her, nuzzled her awake and enjoyed a good night of romping. But he could not do that now. It would seem wrong. And that was...disgruntling? Upsetting? No, not in the least. What he felt right now was something different. Bad yet really good.

  Confusing.

  Something he knew he should be proud of but still left him unsatisfied in a way he couldn’t figure out. When had he gone from a man who had women fawning over him and readily available to...this?

  What was this?

  Yet he wasn’t growling in frustration. And he might’ve not that long ago had there been a bonnie lass asleep in his bed who didn’t awake immediately upon his arrival. Because they always knew he had arrived whether or not he touched them. He had liked to think it was because they liked his looks or skills in bed or even eventually that he was laird. And mayhap sometimes it was one of those reasons. But deep down he knew it was usually another altogether.

  They were drawn to, yet wary of, the dragon.

  But not Erin.

  She remained asleep and not phased in the least by his presence. Even while she dozed, he sensed it was because she was comfortable with him on a level her wakeful mind didn’t yet realize. So he took the opportunity to gaze at her for far too long before he plunked down in a chair in front of the fire.

  “Hell,” he whispered, eyes lost. Whatever had come over him made the blood in his veins speed up. It had his muscles tense and his breathing irregular. There was nothing normal about it.

  Long hours passed as he mulled over the changes in his body.

  The changes in his mind.

  In everything he ever thought he knew about himself.

  The sun had barely crested the horizon, and the sky was a deep purplish black when Erin shot up in bed. Within seconds, she flew outside. In the state of half-slumber, half-awareness that dragons were so good at, he bolted after her. Luckily, he caught her seconds before she dove over the wall walk’s railing.

  “He’s right there!” she cried. “I can stop him!”

  Though he said nothing to Erin about it, he had spoken to Grant, his father, and all close kin telepathically about how she apparently saw a ‘man’ in the dark demi-god shadow. Nobody could give him a solid answer about what that might mean except that it was dire...and clearly connected to Erin.

  “There’s nothing here, lad. It must have been a nightmare. She’s safe for now.” Grant’s assurances flickered through his mind as Rònan pulled Erin into his arms. “Keep her close.”

  “Erin,” Rònan said as soothingly as he could manage, trembling when he realized how close she had come to plummeting to certain death. Not that the dragon in him would have let that happen. Still. There were too many unknowns in everything going on lately.

  “No!” she cried, beating against his chest when he whipped her around. “Don’t take him from me!”

  “Nay, lass.” Rònan walked her back against the wall and held tight, still trying to soothe her the best he could. He stroked her hair, body, anything he could manage while keeping her in place.

  And it seemed to work because she eventually calmed and murmured, “Rònan?” against his chest.

  “Aye, lass, all is well,” he whispered, still stroking her hair.

  She pulled back, and her gaze rose to his as thunder rumbled across the sky.

  “How are you here?” she whispered, her eyes not quite focused.

  Rònan cupped her cheeks, sickened with worry, brogue thickening with emotion. “Lass, yer at my castle. MacLeod Castle. Do ye not remember?” He brushed his thumbs over her cheekbones, trying to ground her, trying not to show how desperate he was. “Tell me you remember.”

  She blinked several times, eyes wide before her vision seemed to clear and her eyes locked with his. “Rònan?”

  “Aye, Erin,” he said. “I’m right here.”

  “Rònan?” Her eyes studied his before she exhaled sharply and nodded. “Thank God, it’s really you,” Erin murmured before she shook her head, wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his chest.

  “Where were you, lass?” he said softly. “What happened?”

  When Erin whispered, “I’m not sure,” he knew she wasn’t entirely truthful.

  “I think it was just a bad dream,” she said.

  Rònan knew it wasn’t the right time to question her further so he simply held her and debated what he should do next. Urge her to sit and drink whisky to soothe her nerves? Or mayhap encourage her to get more rest. In truth, he wasn’t opposed to holding and comforting her for as long as possible. Anything to stop her heart from racing and to help her through this.

  Then she moved.

  And not in a way he anticipated.

  Subliminal, as if she didn’t realize she was doing it, her hands slid up beneath the back of his tunic. Her fingers were soft, barely touching as they explored the muscles of his lower back. It was almost as if she was touching him for the first time.

  Then again, they had never done all that much touching just lusting.

  His eyes slid shut at the intimate contact. He couldn’t remember a lass’s touch feeling so good...so powerful. When her gent
le fingers rode up his back, one lone finger feeling each vertebra, heat followed in its wake. A heat that also shot in the other direction, stiffening his cock within a breath. When she turned her cheek and inhaled deeply, a low groan vibrated deep within her chest. He knew why. For the first time in his life, a lass caught the scent of his arousal.

  “You smell so good,” she moaned softly.

  While it was about the last thing he wanted to do, he managed to whisper, “Nay, lass. You dinnae need this right now. Let me get you back to bed.”

  “No,” Erin growled against his chest. “No bed.” She pulled back enough that their eyes connected. “I’m not tired.”

  Rònan shook his head when she started yanking at his tunic, determined to remove it.

  “Lass, we should talk,” he argued as she shoved and pushed to the point that he bent over and let her have her way.

  “Lass,” he repeated as her hands rode up his torso and over his shoulders, her eyes alight with admiration. “You might have just had an episode that involved the Otherworld. Why dinnae you lie down and rest some. Relax. I’ll get you something to eat.”

  His words grew softer and softer as her fingers trailed over his dragon markings. Women had touched them before, but they had never responded like this. When Erin’s fingers glided over them, pleasure shot through him. A feeling so profound, his muscles tightened along with his ballocks. Whatever it was obviously had something to do with her being half dragon. The feeling was so impossibly intense he almost yanked up her dress and took her right there.

  “These aren’t just average tattoos are they?” she whispered as her breathing increased. Erin flexed her fingers over them. “They glow and...” Her eyelids grew heavier as purple flared brighter in her eyes. “Warmth and pleasure is spreading up my arms.” Her eyelids shut entirely, and her lips fell open as another soft groan erupted. “God, the feeling is spreading everywhere now.”

  Her eyes shot open moments before he smelled her arousal.

  “What are they, Rònan?”

  He debated how much he should tell her...how much she could handle. But then they had never glowed beyond the Celtic Otherworld, so he knew there was so much more to this.