"No,” he said softly as if remembering something. His eyes remained on an unseen path ahead. “I was walking."
"You aren't where you want to be, are you?"
"What do you mean by that?” He glanced at her with a scowl on his face. In Arista's opinion, it only added to his mystery and depth.
"I mean, this isn't where you want to be in life. You want something else."
"Don't we all?"
"Yes, I suppose. When it comes to Pandora and myself that's particularly true. I want to know about you, Elijah."
"It's not hard to understand. I want to be on the side of a loch, deep in the Highlands. I may be of Daoine Sidhe warrior heritage, but I wasn't meant for this life."
"Why aren't you there?” she asked, feeling she'd hit upon a nugget of information that could reveal more of who Elijah was.
"I am a warrior Sidhe, as is my brother. We have a duty to our people.” He cast his gaze into the distance. They'd emerged from the trees and stood on the edge of a vast, open field. The sky had clouded over to a pewter grey. Arista could make out a mist in the distance that was very likely rain. Thus far, they'd had luck with the weather. It had been sunny for more than seven days, an oddity on this island—or so she'd been told.
Within minutes, they were exposed on the field. Elijah kept his eyes on the surrounding bushes. He was certain they were safe, going in a different direction than the troops.
"We'll catch up with Samuel and the men very soon. They can't be more than a mile ahead of us. The Romans will be returning to their camp in preparation for the march."
Arista felt a kink grab at her heart. “Father will leave without us? You don't think he'll leave someone to search for Pandora and me?"
Elijah glanced at her face. She knew he recognized the gathering sorrow in her expression. Her father wasn't looking for her. It wasn't that she wanted to be found only that she'd overestimated her father's love.
Elijah quickened his pace. Arista knew the rush was necessary still she fought to keep up with Elijah's longer, muscular legs.
"He knows who took Pandora. He very likely knows the same tribe has you. He's a smart man. I'm sure he has a plan to get the two of you back."
"Do you think it will work?"
Elijah did not answer for a few moments. Arista didn't prompt him for an answer. When the mist turned heavier, filling Arista's cloak with water, she saw Elijah shiver. He was still bare-chested, clear raindrops running in rivulets around the ridges and grooves of his muscles. Arista realized from the far away expression on his handsome face that he was thinking.
"Do you want it to?” she asked in a lower voice.
Elijah wiped a hand back and forth over the top of his head, spraying water like a shaking dog.
"Samuel and your sister are happy. She came to him of her own free will. As for you, my little Roman, you've surprised me. I find myself wanting you to stay with me, despite your heritage."
Arista smiled. Elijah was too busy looking around to glance her way.
"We're almost in the trees again. I'm sure the camp is just on the other side of this field from what Samuel told me."
"Really? We'll be behind my father's troops? Is that part of your plan?"
"Yes,” he answered, helping Arista over a fallen log at the edge of the woods. She jumped down into his welcoming arms. “We don't want him to know where we are at all times of the day.” He stopped and looked at her pointedly. “Is this the type of information he sent you to gather?"
Arista gasped. “How could you think that? Do you really think he'd send his only daughters into the enemy's hands for the purposes of spying?"
He chuckled. “No, I don't, but it hardly matters. He won't defeat us."
"How can you be so sure?"
She caught sight of a pure smile tugging at his lips as he once again walked in front of her, pulling her along by the hand.
"Because things are going too right to turn wrong now."
That was a good enough answer for Arista. Descending a gentle slope, she saw the wood smoke of the Celtic camp filtering through the trees. Elijah gave a short, trilling birdcall to which she heard an answering caw. She saw Elijah's shoulders relax, and felt less exhaustion from the day's travels, knowing he felt safe. She was certain he would know if danger was nearby.
"Samuel knows we're here. You'll see your sister soon."
Walking up to the tents, they were greeted by several men who'd accepted a Roman woman traveling with them. They nodded to Arista and slapped Elijah on the back in brotherly affection.
Rounding the curve of a small tent, Arista saw the beds laid out around the fire. Then Pandora stepped out from under a piece of material strung between the trees for rain protection.
"Pandora!” Arista cried, running into her sister's waiting arms.
Pandora caught her in an embrace and held her. Then, holding her at arm's length, her expression became fearful. “What are you doing here, Arista? What's going on?"
"It's all right. I'm here with Elijah."
"Are you staying?” Pandora's gaze scanned the faces of the men she'd come to know, searching for some sign of how much they knew.
"Yes. As long as Elijah will have me,” answered Arista.
Pandora laughed. “What is it with these men? If Father had only known their draw, their virility, he never would have brought us here."
Arista glanced at Elijah and Samuel who were chatting companionably at the sputtering fire. The rain was beginning in earnest so Pandora pulled Arista under the shelter.
"No, you're right. He wouldn't have. But he did, and look what we've found,” she said, gesturing toward the men.
At the same moment, Elijah stood and walked in her direction. His gaze was penetrating, his eyes full of that liquid desire she'd seen that morning.
He held out his hand, “Come, my little Roman,” he whispered. She accepted his lead, smiled knowingly at Pandora and followed Elijah to a small, well-traveled tent.
Inside, he discarded her cloak, roughly stripped off her tunic and skirt before lowering her to the blankets on the floor. She sighed, closing her eyes.
"You're staying with me, Arista. It's too late to go back now."
"Don't worry, my fey warrior, I'm not going anywhere."
Already, Elijah was between her legs, licking the tip of his greedy tongue over her inner thigh. Arista felt the warmth of the moisture gathering between her legs. He welcomed the arousal with his tongue, lapping her folds, suckling and prodding.
Arista's breath came in short pants. His hands went beneath her bottom, raising her hips toward him. She wound her fingers as tightly as she could among the soft, short hair on his head. Very quickly, she found herself on the edge of a very appealing abyss.
Before she realized he'd changed positions, he was rising over her, glowing in his nakedness. Arista had missed him shedding his clothing. He took her hand, guiding it to his cock, swollen and rigidly standing of its own accord. She stroked him twice before he stilled her hand.
"That's enough,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.
He lowered himself to place his face against the curve of her neck and entered her in one smooth, quick movement. She arched against him, letting his thrusting push her deeper into a glorious oblivion.
"Be my wife, Arista. Tell me you'll stay with me. I have no need of a Highland loch when you're with me,” he whispered into her curls.
"I would never say no to you, Elijah. I never had a doubt since the moment you rescued me that I was meant to be with you."
He exploded at her words, releasing a stream of warmth within her. She clasped him close to her, wrapping her legs tightly around his lean hips and her arms around his back. There was a need in his lovemaking that was unmistakable. He worked at branding her as his and ensuring she was real. Any woman would have recognized it. He'd been waiting for her just as long as she'd been waiting for him.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jennah Sharpe is an author, mother and trave
ler who can be easily seduced by mint chocolate. Her imagination often keeps her up at night but it certainly makes for an entertaining life. She lives in Canada with her soul mate and two young children. Visit her interactive website for chats, photos and contests at www.jennahsharpe.com.
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Celtic Love Knots Volume 5 Page 5