His eyes met hers. “Aye?”
“Yes.” She offered a small shrug and a half smile. “I wasn’t going to drink anymore, but a sip or two might help calm my nerves. It’s be a rough day.”
“Aye,” he agreed as he pulled a skin out of his satchel and handed it to her. “But something tells me ‘twill not be as hard as days to come.”
“I think you’re right.” She took a sip before handing it back. “Again, I should have told you and Heidrek about my nightmare at the Highland Defiance right away. It might’ve helped somehow.”
“No need to be sorry. I should have told you I was part of your nightmare too.” Darach sighed. “Trust me, I’m more at fault considering I ken magic. I knew it was unusual. I just...”
When he trailed off, she said, “What?”
Darach’s eyes slid to hers, looking somewhat guilty. “My reasons for not sharing earlier arenae exactly admirable.”
“No?” she said, grateful she didn’t sound half as breathless as she felt. If she intended to keep him at arm’s length, she needed to stop being flustered by simple conversations.
“Nay.” He shook his head, brogue thickening. “Somehow I saved ye in the Otherworld. When I did, it became something we shared even if you didnae know I was there.” He shrugged. “’Twas a connection betwixt us. Something I had over Heidrek.”
“Ah,” she murmured, heat warming her skin at his possessive tone.
“Something’s been weighing on my mind,” she said. “I was going to speak to you earlier about it, but I was trying to get over the shock of learning I could resurrect. And of course dealing with the fact that if someone loves me, they die.”
“’Tis a lot to try to come to grips with,” he agreed.
“It certainly is.” She eyed her ring. “Anyway, I’ve been mulling over what you told me at the Defiance about this ring. I should have reacted differently. Been more thankful.” Her eyes met his. “You were trying to act as some kind of decoy, right? That’s why you avoided me...and why you pushed me toward Heidrek?”
He nodded. “’Tis all right, lass. You were trying to ken a lot. But aye, I did my best to stay away from you and keep all of the attention on myself.” His eyes went to the fire. “That’s why I never should have kissed you. It might’ve caused the demi-god to take a greater interest in you. And that might have proven the end of everything.”
“How so?”
His eyes returned to hers, emotion evident. “Because I would have given him the ring to keep you safe.”
“No,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes from his as she shook her head. “You would have done the right thing. You would’ve protected the ring and Robert before anything else.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he murmured. “At first, I thought mayhap I was strong enough. That I would do what was right no matter what.” He shook his head. “But I’ve never been so wrong. If all the dreams werenae enough, every glimpse I caught of you in Scandinavia and Scotland only made things worse.” His brogue thickened. “Lass, I loved ye before I even met ye. Now that I have, the feeling has only grown stronger.”
Her heart leapt into her throat. He could not love her. Not if what Grant said was true. She wouldn’t allow it.
Before she could respond, he said, “I think that’s why the real ring ended up back on your finger. Brigit must have realized things werenae going according to plan.”
“This is crazy.” Her eyes dropped to the ring. It looked the same as it always had. “Dreams aren’t real. So you don’t really know me. That means you can’t love me, Darach.” Her eyes went to his. “What if your Dad’s right about me? Do you want to die? What good would that do anyone?” She shook her head. “It would hurt everyone who loves you and those you’re determined to protect.”
“I dinnae care about dying. Now that the ring has returned to your finger I intend to protect the lass who wears it. Therefore, protecting the king. The only difference between my cousins and me is I already know where my heart lies. They didn’t. ” Darach’s brows drew together. “This isnae something I can merely stop feeling because I wish it.”
Jackie had no idea how to respond to that except to make him see logic. Anything to keep him away. She held up her hand. “Its stone doesn’t glow your eye color. That’s kind of telling, don’t you think?”
“I think like all the rings before it, ‘tis fickle and will glow when ‘tis ready.” His eyes narrowed. “But I can promise you this. No bloody ring will change the way I feel.”
Yet she saw trouble flicker in his eyes. Not self-doubt but something else.
“So it seems both you and the demi-god dislike the ring,” she murmured.
When he clenched his jaw, she knew her statement explained his troubled look.
“What is it?” she said.
Darach arched his brow in question.
“Is there something else about this ring I should know?” She frowned. “Something you’re not telling me?”
“Nay.” He shook his head. “Nothing more than my dislike for its control over so much.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “These rings have found my friends some amazing men. Supportive guys who love them. That’s pretty impressive.”
“Aye,” he agreed. “And I’m happy for them.” His eyes searched hers. “But they need naught be the only ones to find such love, Jackie. Such support.”
“It can’t happen between us, Darach,” she reiterated as her chest tightened.
His hand slid into hers. “Because you’re dying?”
“Yes,” she breathed and tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let go. “Another thing I should have shared earlier. I should’ve told both you and Heidrek that from the beginning.” She cursed the tremor that rippled through her. “And now that I know whoever loves me will die as well, it’s a definite that no guy’s getting close to me.”
“’Tis too late,” he said softly. “I’m already close to you.”
When she started to shake her head, he cupped her cheek and locked eyes with hers. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Jackie.” He cupped her other cheek. “Nobody can change that. Not an evil demi-god. Not even your own denial.”
She licked her lips, shocked when she didn’t go numb as fear ripped through her. Amazed that she could still feel him.
Pull away. Don’t let this happen. He’ll die.
“You think you love me,” she whispered. “But you don’t know me...at least not in this life.”
All her good intentions became a distant whisper of warning when he closed his mouth over hers. Possible reincarnation meant nothing as their lips parted and his tongue met hers. As it had been at the Highland Defiance then in the small glade, she suddenly felt as though she were outside herself.
As if she drifted in another place.
Nothing about the way they came together made sense, but she still wanted more. So much more. He called it love. She called it lust. Because what else could it be? A heavy need blossomed between her thighs. A driving desire that had her digging her nails into his forearms and moaning when an intense ache spread through her body.
“Lust not love. No love,” she half whispered, half murmured over and over when he brought her to the ground and ran his lips down her neck. She tried to push him away, but it was a weak effort as his hands began stroking everywhere. Clothing didn’t seem to matter in the least.
“Oh, God,” she mouthed, but nothing came out as he seemed to measure her body in ways no other man had. She bit the corner of her lip when he stroked, cupped, massaged, pinched, then kissed his way over her breasts, worshiping them so thoroughly he had her groaning.
All the while, his hands were on her waist, circling, pressing, searching in an erotic fashion that had her squirming. It was as if a dozen hands touched her at once. When she peered down, she realized he must be using magic. Manipulating the air. Because his hands weren’t everywhere that she felt sensation.
“What?” she gaspe
d before his lips closed over hers again and his whispered words blew through her mind.
“I cannae help it, lass. Ye have a way of drawing out my magic.”
Magic he probably shouldn’t be using. "Oh!” She arched against him as pressure built everywhere. Her arms, neck, chest and lower back. Outer thighs. Ass. Inner thighs.
Then upward.
Closer.
So close to where she needed it most.
Teasing.
Tempting.
“Don’t love me,” she managed to rasp before his lips again closed over hers, and all good reason fled. Gone. Lost. Completely vanished. He tasted like warm sugary male. He smelled like every good memory she’d ever had.
Somewhere way, way in the back of her mind, she knew she was putting him in harm’s way.
That this was wrong.
Harmful.
Lethal.
Yet their lips pressed tighter, eager to fit more securely, determined to somehow meld. Their tongues tangled and lapped and sought. Desperate, they struggled to get closer as they tore at each other’s clothes. She was so caught up in passion it never occurred to her that she no longer laid on a scratchy blanket but soft, warm grass.
Stop now, she preached to herself. Nothing good can come of this.
But nothing connected as she felt him against her.
Over her.
Pressing down.
His arousal.
Their lips only separated long enough for them to yank at one another’s clothes. He bent so she could pull his tunic over his head. She paused so he could pull down the front of her dress.
Then they were on each other again, eager to feel and taste flesh. She kissed, nibbled then laved his tattoo, wanting to claim it as her own. Meant for her. Meanwhile, he pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked hard. When she cried out, he offered no mercy but yanked her skirt up and trailed a hand up her thigh until he made his way to...
“Hell!” she cried when his fingers found what they were looking for.
Any hope of stopping this was long gone when he rubbed his palm against her clit, pressed a finger deep inside and sucked her other nipple into his mouth. She cried out, and by instinct, reached between his legs, grabbed him and groaned. He was rock hard. Large. She squeezed instinctively.
“Bloody hell,” he growled close to her ear. “Bloody hell.”
Jackie felt like a blasted virgin as she kept squeezing without doing anything else in the least to pleasure him. It was as if this was the first time she’d touched a damn penis. In truth, though? It was the first time she had actually felt one in a while. A man for that matter. Because once she got excited, everything went numb.
But she felt Darach. Every last inch of him.
And she was beyond excited.
This felt amazing.
Yet she knew what would feel far more amazing. They both knew as their eyes locked then their lips crashed together again. He didn’t have to love her. She would make sure he didn’t. Later. After.
Because there was no stopping what was happening.
Not in a million years.
Or maybe just lifetime after lifetime.
Her skirt was still wrapped around her waist when he finally covered her completely, and his hard flesh touched hers. She moaned with relief and anticipation.
It felt like she had waited for this for so long.
To feel the weight of his body.
To hear the heaviness of their breathing, quick and desperate for each other.
She wanted this over and over, again and again. It was like a memory she had forgotten but somehow better because she remembered. Every inch of his body felt like a new place to explore. Every sound she drew from his lips something she hadn’t heard in far too long.
“Och, I missed ye,” he whispered against her skin, neck, cleavage.
Jackie didn’t care what he meant because somehow she related.
She had missed him too.
So much.
For a second she thought her ring flickered but was too consumed by him to glance at it again. Breathing became more and more difficult as he kissed her everywhere and spread her legs with his muscled thighs. She felt like she was caught somewhere between the warm sensation of coming home and the exciting sensation of something new. Sweat. Passion. A need for this endless feeling.
Almost a sense of peaking before an actual orgasm.
Her body rippled. It was as if he were already in her. As if she was already part of him. There was no making sense of it. Not until their eyes met. Then only one thing translated.
Now.
“Jackie,” he whispered before he thrust.
Her insides seemed to burst wide open. Welcomed. She arched and cried out with pleasure, barely aware he swirled away yet stayed there at the same time. Discombobulated, she tried to hold onto to him, but it became more and more impossible.
What was going on?
“Awaken, Gwendolyn.” Someone shook her shoulders. “Ye as well, Devlin.”
Jackie gasped when her vision finally cleared. The cave was gone. In its place, rolling green hills and a clear blue ocean. Lush trees blew in a warm wind. A beautiful woman knelt in front of her. Beads and pale gold ribbons were interwoven within her many blond braids. She wore a white gown with a rope of gold cinched around her slender waist.
“I know you,” Jackie whispered.
“Of course, you do,” the woman said. “I have been your sister Chiomara since the day you were born.”
Chapter Ten
Ireland
484 A.D.
Where it all began...
WHERE DID JACKIE GO? What the hell just happened? One moment he was in pure euphoria, deep inside her, the next she was ripped away. He blinked and peered through slits at a blue sky.
“Bloody hell!” He sat up and tore off his helmet. Relief flooded him when he spied Jackie. But why were they clothed? Eyes wide, she shook her head as she put a hand over her mouth and stared at him.
“What?” He frowned as he eyed their foreign surroundings and the woman crouched nearby. “Where are we? What’s going on?”
“Did you both take a bump to the head, then?” The woman shook her head, disappointment on her face as she eyed him. “I know ye are First-in-command of my father’s army and his favorite, but he would ill favor ye indeed if he found ye lying in a field with my sister, Devlin.” Her voice lowered to a whispered hiss. “I’ve done my best to keep this attraction betwixt ye two secret. Now, this.”
Jackie’s eyes were still wide as she finally removed her hand and whispered, “He really is you.”
When Darach looked at her in confusion, she gestured at him and spoke within the mind. “Look at your clothes. You’re...my Irish knight!”
Darach looked down. “Bloody hell!” he repeated and stumbled to his feet. He wore wool trousers, light armor including a bronze chest plate and a dark brown cloak. “I dinnae ken.”
The woman frowned at Jackie. “Gwendolyn, you need to get home and prepare.” Her eyes met his sharply. “And my father will be expecting ye to be by his side when Eoghan arrives.”
“Eoghan?” he said into Jackie’s mind, finally taking in the enormity of not only their surroundings but her appearance. Though she still looked the same, she was dressed similarly to the lass who now confronted him. He fingered one of her tiny braids. “I think mayhap we’ve done a wee bit more than just travel back in time, lass.”
“You think?” Jackie said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Before you woke up, I learned a few things. Besides the whopping realization that Chiomara’s my sister, it seems I’m about to marry a well-known demi-god named Eoghan. Except it sounds like he’s just a Druid right now.” Her eyes widened. “An actual Druid!” She sighed. “On an up note, Chiomara apparently can’t hear us speak telepathically, and though we think we’re speaking English, we can’t be. Either way, she understands us. Or vice versa. I have no idea. Magic I assume.”
Darach was about to speak
, but she said, “Another thing?” She held up her hand. “My ring’s gone.”
He took her hand and frowned at her bare finger.
“Enough of that.” Chiomara batted Darach’s hand away. “Go do what ye must, soldier, whilst I care for my sister.”
Dumbfounded, Darach stared after them as they walked away. Was that truly Chiomara the Druidess? She who would marry King Erc and birth Adlin MacLomain? She had to be. But as far as he knew she didn’t have a sister.
While tempted to further explore his surroundings, he figured it would be wisest to follow them. If for no other reason than he had no idea where to go. The only thing he did know was that he and Jackie were Gwendolyn and Devlin in another life. And they clearly were not of the same rank. Nor were they supposed to have feelings for one another. Worse than that, Eoghan was her intended.
Darach shook his head as he walked.
It had long been told that Eoghan wanted Chiomara, so this was some untold part of family history. Just like her having a sister. A frown settled on his face. He had a bad feeling about this beyond the obvious.
“Oh, wow,” Jackie murmured into his mind. “Look at all this.”
They had just topped the hill to a sprawling community overseen by a quaint castle. The community seemed happy enough as they sold wares from their carts. He had no sooner passed through the gates when a buxom lass was on either side, wrapping elbows with him as they grinned.
“Every time Druidess Gwendolyn wanders off ye do too,” one complained with a well-practiced pout.
“Ye know ye cannot have her, aye, laddie?” the other said, batting her lashes. “A druidess can only live a solitary life or be meant for another druid.”
Darach gave no response, not sure in the least how Devlin would respond and not willing to risk it. He merely offered a small smile.
“So will ye join me this eve after the celebrations?” the first lass implored, brushing the side of her breast against his arm.
“Mayhap after he has a go at me,” the other informed and winked at him.
When Jackie tossed a look at him over her shoulder, he offered a sheepish grin and shrugged. She rolled her eyes and allowed Chiomara to pull her into the crowd. A crowd that grew so thick she was soon stolen from his sight. It was a good thing that they could speak within the mind, or he would have been a lot more uncomfortable. As it was, it took almost more strength than he had not to toss her over his shoulder and leave.
The MacLomain Series: Later Years - a Scottish Time Travel Romance Boxed Set Page 95