His mother twitched with a sharp intake of breath and gave a quick shake of her head. With a trembling hand, she waved Emma closer as she stepped away from her son. “I’m verra pleased the clinic has gone to such lengths to make the children feel welcome. But please take care about what ye tell them.”
Leaning closer, tears filled her eyes as she glanced first at the beaming face of her child then turned back to Emma. “My son is dying. He’ll never be more than the sweet little boy ye see standin’ before ye today.”
Emma feared as much just from looking at the yellowish-gray pallor tinting the boy’s skin. But as long as life beat within his tiny chest, she wouldn’t give up hope. “Don’t ever let him hear that you’ve given up. A fighting will to live is stronger than any medicine I can ever prescribe. We’ll do everything we can to help your son. I know it’s not easy, but he needs your strength right now.”
As the boy scurried away to show his brothers his amulet, Torin stepped closer to the mother. “Your son willna die as a child. You will cross through the veil long before he does.”
“Torin!” Emma glanced from the mother’s widening eyes to Torin’s stubborn scowl. “You can’t say such things.”
“How do you know?” the mother asked, her voice trembling with hope.
Ignoring Emma, Torin nodded toward the child standing in the center of the play area holding the amulet up for all to see. “It is not his destiny to die young. Since I have ordained him into my clan, he’ll live many centuries guarding the stones.”
The mother’s face fell. “I see.” Turning to Emma, her lips flattened into a bitter line. “Tell your actor ’tis cruel to raise the hopes of a desperate parent. He needs to save his fairy tales for amusing the sick children.” With a sharp sniff, she hitched the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder and pushed past Emma to sign in at the registration desk.
Emma swallowed a groan and turned to Torin. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
Torin shrugged. “I told the woman the truth. The boy willna die. I scourged the poison attacking his body when I named him a guardian.”
Emma glanced at the child laughing in the aisle between the rows of mismatched chairs. His face did appear a bit more pink; his eyes sparkled with newfound energy. Could Torin be telling the truth? Had he healed the child? “You can heal people of their diseases?”
“Not everyone.” Torin’s face darkened; pain showed in the slump of his shoulders. “The child is brave and holds the legends safe in his heart; setting him along the path of a stone guardian is well within my powers. The protection of the amulet about his neck is his true salvation.”
Emma fingered the warm stone resting at her throat. “So, you’re telling me that as long as he keeps that necklace close, he’s protected from any sort of illness?”
Torin nodded then his good eye narrowed beneath knotted brows as he took a step closer to Emma. “If properly blessed, the amulet shields us against many dangers or illnesses. It even prevents drowning.”
His words hit her like a slap in the face. Why would Torin mention drowning? Did he know? How could he know? Emma retreated a step until her back pressed against the waist high counter. He needed to leave. The longer he stared at her with that penetrating gaze, the more certain she felt this man knew entirely too much about her.
With a choked whisper, she tore free of his stare and sidled around to the rear of the counter. “I think you need to go, Torin. I’ve got children to care for and I can’t deal with you right now.”
Torin’s jaw tightened. The muscles rippled beneath his tanned skin as he ground his teeth. His scarred face flinched as though she’d struck him and he snapped his head forward with a single nod. “Fine. I will leave ye to the children. But we’re no’ finished yet, you and me.”
Emma pressed trembling fingers to her mouth as she watched him explode out the door.
Chapter Eighteen
Torin wrapped his plaid close about his shoulders and stepped between the dimensions. He emerged from the clinic’s shadows and waved a taunting hand in front of Harris while the old man swept with a tireless rhythm against the puddled water in the doorway. Harris didn’t react. The industrious old man was oblivious to the hulking man standing at his side. Torin grunted with a satisfied growl. He’d never enjoyed walking in the in-between but he needed his form cloaked.
Emma brushed past him on her way to her car. Head down, brow furrowed into a troubled scowl, she yanked open the vehicle’s door and heaved her bulging briefcase across the seat. Sliding in behind the wheel, her knuckles whitened as she gripped it in a stranglehold.
He’d upset her. Perhaps, he shouldn’t have mentioned drowning. Torin blew out a frustrated groan as he sifted into the car beside her. He’d only wished to show her he understood the pain she harbored from her past. How had women evolved into such complicated beings over the centuries? They were difficult enough to figure out hundreds of years ago.
Perhaps that’s why she’d never married. Too much pain filled her heart, leaving room for little else. Torin studied her troubled face as she fought the sticking gearshift. What a waste. A woman so fine and yet all alone. Had she been around centuries ago, many would’ve vied for her hand. Maybe even—No. Torin forced the thought from his mind. He’d known excitement and passion from his beloved Eilean and look where that had led. Unbidden voices from the past taunted him with their whispers. Marriage to Eilean had also provided a good share of misery. Flashes of Eilean’s unexplained absences from his bed writhed like a venomous snake from the shadows of his mind. The vicious rumors sliced through his memories with the deadly accuracy of a poison-dipped arrow.
Closing his eyes, Torin groaned in a shaking breath, trying to escape the truth. A delicate sweetness wafted across his senses. The faintest hint of lilies soothed the agony burning in his chest. He’d never truly noticed it before. The essence of the flowers perfuming Emma’s skin transmitted an air of innocence and vulnerability around her. Torin filled his lungs with the beguiling scent. Damn, but it suits her well.
He risked a touch to her silken hair, running an errant curl between his fingertips. Emma tossed her head, raking the tress out of his hand as though smoothing it from the tug of the wind. Thank goodness, she’d yet to discover her heritage, had no idea of her powers. Torin grinned as he brushed his fingers through her hair again. She’d think it merely the breeze. What wondrous hair. Torin shifted in the seat, his body awakening at the thought of burying his face and perhaps other neglected body parts into the ecstasy of those silken locks. By the powers of the abyss, this woman threatened to be his undoing.
Torin adjusted his aching member beneath his kilt, thanking the powers for the ability to hide between the dimensions. Sucking in a deep breath between clenched teeth, he forced his gaze straight ahead. If the Cailleach wanted them joined together, Torin would gladly oblige.
Chapter Nineteen
Why in the world did she fret so? Emma paced around the room like a caged beast and kept looking at the thing strapped to her left arm. Torin shifted his weight to the center of the countertop. Observed from this perch atop the kitchen cabinet, Emma’s agitated moves all about the cottage made no sense whatsoever. He glanced at the bare countertops and frowned at the empty table. Only the sweet scent of the smoldering peat burning in the hearth pervaded the room. Darkness drew near. Why didn’t she prepare herself a meal or an evening pot of that noxious black brew she loved so?
A loud rap shook the front door causing Emma to jump. Torin tensed, scowling first at the door and then turned to study Emma’s face. Distress shadowed her wrinkled brow. The woman dreaded whatever lurked on the other side of the weathered oak doorway. In one fluid motion, he withdrew a throwing dirk from inside his boot and lowered his feet to the floor. From this vantage point, he could attack the intruder before whatever stood on the other side of the threshold realized Torin’s blade waited inside.
Her lips flattened into a determined line, Emma stared at the doorknob as
though the shining brass orb was about to bite her. Inhaling a deep, fortifying breath, she swung the door open wide. “Hello, Dr. Mackenzie. You’re right on time.”
“Ye may call me Alex and I told ye I was prompt.”
“So you did. Alex.” Emma jutted her chin up a notch; a forced smile strained across her face.
Torin palmed the haft of the dirk, settling it firmer in his hand. Who was this Alex Mackenzie? Taking in Emma’s strained expression toward the man standing in the doorway, instant dislike burned in the center of his chest. The man must be a threat, some sort of intruder. Emma didn’t like this man. Why had she opened the door and invited him in?
“Just let me grab my jacket and we can go.” Emma jerked her coat from the back of the stool with an irritated yank.
Alex’s mouth tightened and one brow lifted a bit higher. “If ye intend to be hostile the entire evening, ’twill defeat the purpose of the meal.”
Torin eased closer to Emma. He didn’t like the fact that this Alex Mackenzie read her so well. Emma’s frustration hung heavy in the air. The tension in his chest eased a bit replaced by flaming curiosity. If she despised the man so verra much, why was she leaving with him? Did the man hold some advantage over her?
“I am not hostile, Alex,” Emma snapped through gritted teeth. “I’m just tired.”
At this retort, both dark brows arched higher over Alex’s deep set blue eyes. Amusement sparkled in their depths. “Well, we’ll try to make an early evening of it then. I willna keep ye out overly long.”
Torin bristled, peering closer at the taunting doctor’s face. Emma was a fool if she believed this man wanted nothing but a meal. The cur toyed with her; his jeering words shielded a yearning soul. Torin stepped between Emma and Alex, locking his hands against his sides to keep from shoving the man back out the door. “Ye must not go with this man, Emma. Dinna trust his shielded gaze.”
Emma’s eyes widened. Her gaze darted about the room searching for the source of the disembodied voice.
“What’s wrong? Have ye forgotten something?” Alex frowned, his head tilting to one side as though he were a devoted dog listening intently to his master.
Emma licked her lips and cleared her throat as she hugged her jacket to her chest. “Nothing. I was just checking the room to make sure I didn’t leave anything I needed behind.”
Torin leaned closer and whispered against the side of her face. “Ye canna go. Tell him to leave. If ye do not, I will.” His lips brushed against the satin curve of her ear. Lore, she smells wondrous. He inhaled another deep breath of the sweet warmth of her skin. The tantalizing scent triggered a long forgotten ache.
Emma brushed a hand against the side of her face as though waving away a flying insect. Pressing her trembling fingers against her forehead, she leaned against the wing-backed chair sitting beside the door. “You know, Alex, I suddenly don’t feel very well at all. Would you mind if we did this another time?”
With a narrow-eyed frown, Alex stepped closer and peered into her face. “Ye do seem a bit pale. Do ye feel as though ye have fever?”
Torin chuckled, tracing his fingertips down the silk of her neck. “She’s no’ got a fever but I can tell ye her warmth feels as delicious and mouth-watering as a bit of bread just taken from the hearth.”
Emma’s ivory skin flushed a flaming red that crept all the way to her hairline. She slapped her hand against her throat as she hissed between clenched teeth. “Stop touching me!”
Confusion registered on Alex’s face as he raised both hands into the air. “I didna touch ye. I merely asked if ye thought ye had fever.”
Emma threw her jacket across the chair then rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m not sure. I kind of feel a bit achy. I think I better stay in and rest tonight. I’m probably still adjusting to the different time zone and the change of climate.”
With a dubious look flashing across his face, Alex pursed his lips. “If ye wish, I can fetch ye a script from the chemist and bring ye some fine soup from the pub. That combined with a good night’s rest will do ye a world of good.”
Emma shook her head. “No. No…that won’t be necessary. I’m really not hungry. I think I’ll just go to bed.”
Torin grinned as Emma continued rubbing the spot on her neck his lips had just brushed. Good. He loved the way her skin pinked when she became flustered with emotions. Such a fine woman, this unyielding Emma, if only she’d existed back in his time. An impossible-to-ignore stirring filled his soul as he watched her fumble with her coat. A firm knowing registered in his mind. Emma would never be unfaithful to the one she loved. Not Emma. A woman who’d dedicated herself first to caring for her sister and then sickly children. A woman who’d not given a second thought to forsaking her own needs.
Alex frowned. A frustrated scowl knotted his brow as he turned back to the door. “Very well then. If by morning ye still feel unwell, perhaps ye best spend the day at home. Dinna feel like ye must force yourself to show up at the clinic if ye havena improved.”
With a trembling smile, Emma bobbed her head. “Don’t worry. If I’m not any better in the morning, I’ll just stay in bed.” She drummed her fingers along the top of the chair as she glanced about the room.
“Aye. Well then.” Alex fixed her with one last bewildered look then gave a curt nod as he stepped out onto the stoop. “See that ye do and if ye have need of anything, ye know where to find me.”
“She’ll no’ be needin’ a thing from you.” Torin shoved the door shut with a bang and stepped out of the in-between.
With a squeak, Emma fell back against the chair, one hand clasped against her throat. “How in the hell did you do that?”
“Ye just slide through the doorway between the dimensions and step into the space within.”
Emma’s face flamed as her green eyes narrowed into irritated slits. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. He probably thinks I’m some kind of nut job now because of the way I acted.”
“All that man thinks is that he wants ye for his own. Ye need to stay away from him, Emma.” Torin settled his feet wider apart as he tightened his fists to his sides. Emma needed to calm down and see reason. Didn’t she realize he’d just saved her from a love-starved man?
“You are an idiot.”
Her stinging words stoked the frustration already knotting in his gut. “I know what I know.” Torin ground his teeth, clenching his jaw until his face muscles ached.
“You don’t know squat.” Emma snorted. “That man, Alex, only wants us to get along so the atmosphere at the clinic won’t be so intense. He can’t stand my company any more than I can stand his. He’s doing all this for the sake of the children.”
“Ye truly believe that?” Torin stared at Emma trying to ignore how inviting she looked when righteous indignation colored her skin. How could the woman be so damn blind? Torin didn’t even have to use his mystical senses to pick up on Alex Mackenzie’s obvious interest in the fuming woman standing before him. Could she be that oblivious to her effect on men? To the temptation she presented as soon as she walked into a room? “Yer a beauty, woman, and when your scent fills the room, it teases a man until his body aches with the pain of needing to take ye.”
Emma grew still and she ran the tip of her tongue in a nervous swipe across her lips. “You’re wrong. You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just plain old Emma. Ms. Dependable, squared.”
With a frustrated growl, Torin pulled her into his arms and clenched her tight against the hardened length of his body. “Does it feel like I’m wrong, Emma? Listen to me with what your body feels instead of with what your mind tells ye.”
Emma gasped. Against every logical reason blaring in her head, she instinctively melted into his demanding embrace until his heart hammered against her breasts. Torin didn’t feel wrong. He felt very—ready, willing, tempting and all those other adjectives setting her body on fire. A wondrous heat weakened her knees as she molded into the delicious hardness trapped beneath his kilt.
She smoothed her fingers down the raised outline of the ebony tattoos circling across his bulging biceps. She’d never been with a man like Torin. Her breath caught as she met his gaze and found excruciating need reflected in his face. Could she do this? Should she?
Torin dipped his head and settled Emma’s inner debate with a kiss. He pulled her tighter against his lean hardness and opened her mouth with his. His lips, his hands, that inquisitive tongue all demanded entry—demanded complete submission. Emma’s mind whirled as her body erupted with an age-old need. Hell yes, I can do this.
Torin loosened the embrace long enough to slip his hand between their bodies and trail his fingers up the front of her shirt. He groaned as he mouthed kisses along her jaw and cupped her aching breast in the calloused palm of his hand. The coarseness of his skin teased against her sensitive nipple, hardening it to a yearning nub.
“I’ve wanted ye since ye first stepped from the beast.”
His hoarse whisper triggered a series of uncontrollable shivers as molten heat flooded to her nether regions. He wanted her. That thought alone excited her almost more than his touch. “I’ve wanted you too,” she admitted in a breathless whisper. There. I said it aloud. That meant this really must be happening.
Torin swept her up into his arms, never interrupting the series of fiery kisses his eager mouth layered along her neck. He carried her to the waist-high kitchen counter and gently lowered her across it. Imprisoning her with a smoldering gaze, Torin ripped away her blouse and tossed the shredded remains to the floor. He gave an irritated huff as his attention settled on her bra. His brows knotted with an impatient scowl.
Emma planted both hands against his chest. “Wait! Don’t rip it.”
“Then ye’d best get that bit of lace out of my way, woman.”
Emma undid the front clasp, slid the bra from around her body and flung it across the room.
Stone Guardian Page 11