All murmured a prayer as Graham squeezed Christina’s hand. Though this might not be easy, as their eyes met, they couldn’t be more grateful. Certainly not that they’d lost Kenna, but that they had found each other in a way they never expected. They would never forget her. What she had done for them and most certainly what she had sacrificed for Scotland.
After that, the conversation revolved around fond childhood memories of Kenna as everyone bid her goodbye. As the night wore on, however, they began focusing on what was going to happen next. Were Bryce and Jessie already on their adventure together?
“Jessie had no wound that I could see when we faced off with the warlock,” Graham pointed out, clearly having given it some thought based on his almost hopeful expression. “So mayhap ‘twas not her that I hit with my dagger in the forest.”
“No wound that you could see,” Christina said softly. “Things were pretty intense and happening fast. Not a lot of time to look her over. She could have very well had a wound bandaged up and hidden beneath clothing.”
“Aye,” Graham agreed. “True.”
“What concerns me more is the obvious connection she shared with that warlock.” Christina fought a shiver. “What are we supposed to make of the fact our warlock sacrificed its existence to save Jessie?” She frowned, saddened. “It seems pretty clear she’s wrapped up in dark magic somehow...maybe even in control of it.”
“Aye, mayhap,” Grant said, his tone soft and contemplative. “Yet ‘tis also clear she’s trying to destroy it.”
Milly frowned and shook her head. “I find it hard to believe she’s capable of being part of something so dark, to begin with.”
“I second that,” Lindsay said.
“Well, ‘tis not to worry over this eve.” Adlin offered an infectious grin no doubt intended to lighten the mood. “Let us enjoy this victory before we face yet another battle, aye?”
Everyone nodded and continued to enjoy one another’s company. They would spend one more night here in case Jessie, Bryce and Sven returned then leave in the morning.
As to be expected, Robert the Bruce, as well as his brother and nephew, were in excellent spirits. Though Robert spent little time with them, he expressed his gratefulness to all for being there. For making right history though he didn’t have the first clue how they did so. It seemed he had no memory of dreaming of Christina all those years ago and certainly no recollection of wanting to marry her. He didn’t even remember kissing her the night before.
“He kissed you then?” Graham said into her mind, grinning though she didn’t miss the jealousy in his eyes. “And here I thought you were tucked safely away with Lindsay.”
“A kiss can happen awful quick,” she teased. “And be forgotten just as quickly.”
“Aye.” He eyed her with the sort of promise that made her squeeze her thighs together. “I’ll most certainly see to that, lass.”
“I must admit though,” Robert interrupted their internal conversation as his warm eyes turned her way. “I feel an unexplainable connection to ye, lass. One of friendship though we dinnae know each other all that well.”
She smiled and nodded. “You’ll always have my friendship, Robert.”
When Christina and Graham finally stood sometime later, long past ready to be alone, everybody grinned. Most especially Conall and Lindsay.
“’Tis verra good things worked out for you two,” Adlin said, his smile widening.
“Aye.” Grant nodded, smiling as well though his expression grew a little more serious. “You have our apologies for, well, thinking things might have had to go in a different direction.”
A different direction? Though tempted to scowl at them, all she was capable of now was a wide smile as she winked. “All’s well that ends well, right?”
Then it was just plain old fun as she and Graham acted like a couple of high school kids just falling in love. Though they knew they bypassed friendship and shot right to something more in a heartbeat, it didn’t matter. Especially considering how awful it had felt to have everything forced to a halt yesterday.
A mere twenty-four hours ago that felt more like months.
They skipped the small talk and pretty much tripped over themselves getting into their tent. Between stealing kisses, laughing and ripping their clothes off, they barely made it to the cot. Once they did though, everything faded away. The merry pipes in the distance and the partying.
All that existed was them.
This.
What they had found.
Their kisses intensified as his touch became more tender, and their bodies brushed along one another’s. She might be a warrior at heart, but she suspected he would always have a way of making her feel soft and feminine.
His touch was light at first as he left her mouth, nibbled down her neck then swooped lower. He tasted every inch of her, starting with her breasts before he worked his way down. She thought her heart had been thundering before, but it couldn’t touch what he invoked as he explored.
Her senses came alive in a way they never had before.
Her magic.
She could hear his heartbeat racing along with hers, then synchronizing, before every sensation grew even stronger. His spicy scent magnified and wrapped around her. The heated texture of his skin. The feel of his rock-solid body so close to hers.
He seemed to swirl around every part of her from the inside out. It blew her mind and his too based on his groan of appreciation as he moved lower. Once his talented mouth was between her legs any awareness of magic entirely vanished.
All she knew was how he made her feel.
Alive. Wonderful. Without end.
When she climaxed, things became even fuzzier but more amazing. Colors zig-zagged every which way as she cried out. Then he was over her again and spreading her thighs even wider.
“Graham,” she whispered into his mind, so far gone she wasn’t sure if he heard her. More than that, she didn’t know what she was asking.
It seemed he did though because he didn’t thrust quite yet. Instead, he waited, peppering kisses here and there before his eyes met hers and he waited a little longer for her to come down.
Because that’s what she needed.
She was so wrapped up in the intensity of her magic and what he had made her feel that she was afraid she might miss something. That when they came together, she might be too far gone to enjoy it.
Yet when he finally thrust, slow and easy, she was more than ready.
Their eyes never left one another’s as he moved. As their passion built. Sex with a man had never been like this. Without frenzy.
Calm and precious yet still wild somehow.
There was no rush to find completion. No endless energy she needed to exhaust. Everything she felt now was the real deal. Genuine, wonderful and normal. Well, as sizzling hot normal as it could be between a witch and wizard she supposed.
Trembling, she dug her nails into his back, wrapped her legs around his waist, and enjoyed the feeling. The lust and love. The excitement of being with him.
Never once did she take control.
Never once did she want to.
Rather, she basked in the pleasure he offered. The poignant feelings rolling through her like waves. Swells that grew stronger and stronger the more he thrust. The more he built her up. When the next climax hit, it came hard and fast, and she cried out.
Seconds later, he did the same.
So far gone again she couldn’t speak or think straight, her eyes slid shut. Sated, content, little registered after that and she drifted off to sleep.
Until a very clear voice woke her up.
“Death comes to those who fly,” Jessie murmured. “Death comes to Scotland.”
When Christina opened her eyes, she was in the last place she ever could have imagined.
Chapter Eighteen
GRAHAM COULD HAVE imagined a hundred different ways to wake up next to Christina after what they experienced but nothing like this. Not after finding each
other like they did. After loving one another so well.
Now, far from the cot they had just enjoyed, they turned and stared at each other just like they had when they first met...in Conall and Lindsay's time flux, that is.
At Mystery Hill in the twenty-first century.
It seemed she was just as confused as he was when she shook her head, patted her body and said, “Am I real?” She cocked her head. “Are you?”
Graham did the same and nodded. “Aye, lass. We’re real.” He looked around, frowning. “This is real.”
Unlike the dream, however, they weren’t dressed.
“But...” Her voice trailed off as she narrowed her eyes and scanned the area. “Do you think there’s a warlock around here?”
“I dinnae know, lass.” Graham scanned the area as well before he spied two piles of clothes. One for him and one for her. “It looks like someone’s expecting us.”
Christina grimaced as he handed her clothes. “They expected us to arrive naked?”
“So it seems,” he said as he pulled on a tunic and wrapped the MacLomain plaid around his waist. “Friend not foe I’d say based on the clothing.”
“Someone who seems to prefer me in medieval pants,” she added as she pulled on her own clothes then eyed him with appreciation. “You look good in a skirt, darlin’.”
“’Tis a tartan,” he muttered but met her grin and winked. “I think you’ll appreciate its design.”
Taking his meaning, she kept smiling. “I bet I will.”
As they pulled on their boots, she considered the stone dwelling. “So why do you think we ended up here again?”
He had been feeling out the place with magic since they arrived and was surprised by what he discovered. “I think we’ve just been through the magical time flux Conall and Lindsay inadvertently created. Or should I say we’ve finally been released from it altogether. When we were, it put us back where we began.” He kept concentrating and scouted out the area. “I sense something else too, but I cannae quite figure out what it is. Can you?”
When Christina went very still, he knew she was utilizing her gift.
“I can,” she whispered. “Jessie was here...as was another.” She visibly shivered as her eyes went to his. “I didn’t sense him when we first arrived but definitely a warlock.” She shook her head. “But I think he’s long gone now.”
“Aye then,” he murmured, fully intending to remain vigilant regardless. “It seems, mayhap, our dream about Jessie and a warlock being here had some truth to it after all.”
She frowned. “So do you think us being here has more to do with Conall and Lindsay's magic or Jessie and the warlock's?”
“I dinnae know,” he replied. “Mayhap a bit of both.”
“Why here though?” she asked again. “This isn’t where we began. Technically, you and I met at the house.” She frowned as she wrapped a fur cloak around her shoulders. “In the flesh anyway.”
“Aye, in the flesh but this is where we first connected.” His eyes met hers. “So mayhap we’re back where we were meant to be all along, and you’re with the one you’re supposed to be with.”
A soft smile curled her lips. “I thought we’d already come to that conclusion.”
“Aye.” He gave her a look. “But as I recall, at one point in this verra dwelling you were of the mind that Robert the Bruce might be the one for you.”
“True.” She shook her head. “Hard to imagine now.”
He couldn’t agree more. But then he never imagined her with the Bruce. Or should he say he never wanted her to be with him.
“So assuming Conall and Lindsay’s magic was at play,” she said as he took her hand and they exited, “what do you think finally freed us from their time flux?”
“Likely lying together for the first time after igniting the ring’s magic,” he replied. “’Tis known to be a verra powerful coupling.”
“To say the least,” she murmured, renewed appreciation in her eyes as they met his. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
He couldn’t agree more, well aware of the difference in her this last time. She lacked the anxiety that had been present in their previous lovemaking. The fear that even though he seemed to keep up with her, she might just be too much for him.
“’Twas verra good, lass,” he said softly, reeling her closer before he tilted her chin and brushed his lips across hers. “’Twill always be like that. Ye dinnae need to fear anymore.”
“Always,” she whispered, considering that.
“Aye, always,” he murmured, ignoring a flash of fear that she might not want such a thing with him in the end. That she might decide to stay here.
Before she could respond, her attention was caught by something through the woods in the direction of the house.
“What is it, lass?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she whispered before she started walking. “Remember back when you first arrived and we came out here looking for Jessie? How I felt like it was some kind of decoy?”
“Aye.” He nodded and kept stride with her, wishing he had a weapon. “Are you feeling that way again, then?”
“Sort of,” she murmured. “It’s hard to describe.” She started jogging. “It just feels like we should be at the house instead of here. Just like before when Jessie vanished.” She shook her head. “Almost like we’re going in circles that we’re not in control of...like there’s something bigger going on that we’re not seeing.”
When they arrived in the yard, all seemed as it should be.
At first.
“Something is verra wrong,” Graham murmured, alarmed. “Off.”
“Hell yeah, it is,” Jim muttered, appearing at the front door. “One moment you two are standing in front of the fire, the next you’re gone. And in the short time you vanished, that old oak’s about withered up and died.”
“What do you mean?” Christina frowned and shook her head. “We’ve been in medieval Scotland for days, nearly a week. And it is going on winter here, so the tree’s probably just hibernating.”
Yet it was clear that wasn’t the case. Jim was right. The tree was dying quickly.
“You’ve been gone for a few hours at most, Christina.” Jim shrugged. “But I suppose that’s not surprising considering how time goes by differently between here and Scotland.” He flinched as he eyed the facial bruise she had acquired at Stirling Castle. “That looks painful.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little scuffle with a medieval Brit.” She waved it off. “So we’ve really only been gone a few hours?”
“Aye, ye havenae been gone long,” Blair said, appearing beside him.
“Yet ‘tis obvious that isnae the case for ye two,” Rona murmured, joining them as well. “How are things in Scotland? Is all well?”
Just when they thought things might be on the right path, it seemed they weren’t quite there. Because it was clear Rona had never left. That she had remained here the whole time.
“How did I not notice it before?” Christina whispered, eying the sky as snow began falling. “The storm is here that was on its way when we left.” Her eyes met Graham’s. “It looks like you’re right. Conall and Lindsay’s time flux did pretty much release us back where we began, give or take a few hours.”
Or Jessie and the warlock did, he thought.
“While you were gone, we found some alarming things.” Jim urged them to come inside and caught them up. “Things that definitely back up that you’ve been gone as long as you say you have and not just a few hours.”
When they walked inside it was truly as if they had never left except for the delicious scent. It was clear Christina’s stew had had time to cook. As Christina headed for Jessie’s chair, eying it as though she might find her friend there against the odds, Rona handed Graham a mug.
“Ye look like ye could use a wee dram, Brother,” she said, curious as she looked at him. “So what happened to ye two?” Her astute gaze went from Christina
to him, a little sparkle in her eyes despite their circumstances. “There is a mighty glow about her ring now that I dinnae recall seeing before.”
“Aye,” Blair agreed, a wry grin on her face. “And ‘tis just the shade ye two claimed it to be.”
As Graham began filling them in on everything that had happened, Christina received Jessie’s little book from Jim.
“I know it’s private, but I figured I better take a peek inside in case she scribbled where she might’ve gone,” Jim said. “Instead, I found a whole lot more than I bargained for.”
When Christina began flipping through it and sank onto the sofa, Graham joined her.
“What the heck am I looking at?” she whispered. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Bloody hell,” Graham murmured as each picture told a different story.
Christina flipped back to the first page and the people standing outside by the old tree. There was no mistaking who they were. Milly, Christina, Jim, and Jessie.
“This was the first day we arrived,” she murmured. “Jessie never leaves her cabin up in Maine and doesn’t show emotion, so we were all shocked to find her standing out there looking up at the tree crying.”
“She dated when she drew these.” She continued flipping through the pages as she shook her head. “She had to have dated them incorrectly.”
“Right,” Jim said. “Because that first picture was apparently drawn a week before Milly caught wind of this house. Over a month before she actually bought it.”
Each page told the tale of not only how Milly and Lindsay came together with their MacLomain’s but Christina and Graham’s story too.
“So do those pictures accurately depict your adventure together?” Jim asked Graham and Christina. “ I only ask because Christina doesn’t have a shiner on her face in any of those.”
Promised to a Highland Laird Page 24