Time of a Highlander (Arch Through Time, #12)

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Time of a Highlander (Arch Through Time, #12) Page 18

by Baker, Katy


  “Blair!” Georgie cried, twisting to look at him.

  “Dinna worry,” he croaked. “I’m all ri—”

  Then suddenly he was sliding off the horse’s back. The ground came up to meet him and then everything went black.

  GEORGIE’S HEART LEAPT into her mouth as Blair fell. She yanked on the reins, jumped off the horse, and crouched by Blair’s side. His eyes were closed, his skin pale. She fought down a rising panic.

  “Blair?” She shook him. “Blair?”

  He didn’t respond. She pulled back his cloak and then rocked onto her heels with a gasp. There was a bloody wound in his shoulder from where the arrow had pierced him. It looked as though he’d stopped only long enough to rip the arrow out and nothing more.

  Idiot man, she thought. What has he done to himself?

  He should be with a healer, safe in the fortress with a decent meal inside him. Instead? Instead he’d pushed his body way past normal endurance to come to her rescue. My fault. All my fault.

  The small loch was completely enclosed by fir trees and she doubted anyone would stumble upon them in this secluded setting. Trouble’s saddlebags were still attached so she approached the horse, rummaged around in the bags, and came out with some food, a bottle of whisky, and flint and tinder. It was a start.

  A few months ago, if she’d found herself in this situation she would have had no idea what to do, but living in this time had taught her a few things.

  She collected enough deadwood to build a fire then worked diligently, striking sparks until one caught, then blowing the flames to life until a merry campfire was burning on the loch shore.

  She knelt by Blair’s side and managed to peel away his sodden cloak and lay it by the fire to dry. Then she pulled up his shirt to expose the puncture. She couldn’t see much due to the crusted blood so she tore a piece from her dress, dunked it in the loch, then used it to carefully wash away the blood. The laceration looked clean and not too deep, for which she was profoundly grateful. Lastly, she uncorked the bottle of whisky and poured some onto the wound. She’d heard somewhere that alcohol could be used as a disinfectant.

  Blair grunted and his eyelids fluttered but he didn’t wake.

  She pulled out a pot from the saddle bags, filled it with water, and set it into the fire. She worked diligently, efficiently, not allowing herself to think about anything other than the task ahead of her. In this way, she was able to keep calm whilst Blair lay unconscious behind her, unresponsive to any of her ministrations.

  When the water began to boil, she took some strips of dried meat and pounded them onto a rock until they broke into tiny pieces which she tipped into the water and began stirring to make a broth. When she was satisfied she took it from the fire, poured some into a beaker and blew on it until it cooled.

  She scooted over to Blair, pulled his head into her lap, and set the beaker to his lips, pouring some liquid into his mouth. He swallowed reflexively and when the beaker was empty, she refilled it and did the same again. He needed to recover his strength and food and rest was the best way she knew how to give him that.

  When the broth was finished she sat back, exhausted.

  Her limbs felt heavy and there was a dull ache behind her eyes. She ran a hand through her hair and sat for a moment listening to the thumping of her heart. It had been a crazy few days. She could hardly even begin to process all that had happened. What was Charles Beaumont doing right now? Had Adaira Campbell and her heavies come through the arch? Were they, even now, making plans to destroy the Highlands? And what about her father? What if Adaira had—

  No. Don’t think about that now. One step at a time. Get Blair well again. Everything else will come after.

  There was more color in his cheeks and he appeared to be breathing easily. She lay down next to him, fitting her body along his to help keep him warm and pillowed her head on her arms. She stared into the flickering flames of the fire for a long time as if she could find the answers she sought written there.

  Chapter 14

  Blair opened his eyes slowly. A campfire burned just a few feet from his face and Trouble was cropping plants at the edge of a loch. The position of the sun told him it was some time after midday. He lifted his head to see Georgie curled up beside him. She was fast asleep, her head pillowed on the crook of her arm.

  He looked around, alert for danger, but everything seemed peaceful. Trouble swished his tail lazily as he cropped grass.

  Georgie’s breathing was slow and steady and she was snoring softly. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Just being near her like this made warmth spread through him and his heart surge. He would risk anything for her. Anything.

  Her hair had fallen forward over her face and he reached out and gently brushed it away. Her eyes blinked open.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didnae mean to wake ye.”

  “Blair!” she gasped, bolting upright. “You’re awake! My God, I was so worried! How do you feel?”

  “Better,” he replied honestly. The pain had subsided to a dull ache, and the strength was beginning to return to his limbs. “I take it I have ye to thank for that?”

  “I didn’t do anything,” she said, shaking her head. She stared at him as if wondering if he was real. “Jeez, Blair. Please don’t do that to me again, I was so scared.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he assured her gently.

  “What happened? When you went over the waterfall?”

  He scratched his head. “I canna rightly say. It was all a bit of a blur. I washed up somewhere downstream. Trouble found me. Without him, I’d likely be dead.”

  Georgie glanced over at the horse. “Well, remind me to give him an extra big sugar lump when we get back.” She cocked her head. “But that still doesn’t explain how you got into Dun Halas.”

  “There is always one sure way into a castle,” he said, a little evasively. “If ye are willing. Most aren’t, but I was desperate. Hopefully the moat will have washed the worst of it off.”

  She blinked at him for a second, then her eyes widened in understanding. “You climbed up through the sewers?”

  “Aye. I hope ye didnae think that stench was how I normally smelled.”

  “To be honest, I had other things on my mind. Now you come to mention it though, you are a bit whiffy.”

  Blair gave a laugh, wincing as the movement pulled at his shoulder wound. He clambered to his feet and walked to the loch shore. He turned to grin at her and then threw himself in, clothes and all, scrubbing himself down. The cold water helped to clear his head and made his muscles tingle.

  When he was thoroughly drenched, he returned to Georgie.

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “Better?”

  “Aye. Very...invigorating.” He regarded her, his mirth dying away. There was a faint blush to her cheeks and her eyes sparkled. Lord, she was beautiful. Desire stirred in him, a heat he could not suppress.

  And nor did he want to.

  GEORGIE WATCHED BLAIR but the heat in his gaze made her look away. She ought to move over to the other side of the fire, make some space between them, but she remained exactly where she was. She never wanted to be far from him again. She’d thought him dead and the bleak despair that had brought was still fresh, like an open wound.

  “Thank you for coming for me,” she said softly.

  “Did ye think I wouldnae?”

  She met his gaze. “Beaumont told me you were dead and I believed him—or I thought I did. But I don’t think that’s true. I think I always knew, deep in my bones, that you were alive. That you would come for me.”

  His eyes were the palest blue as he watched her. “I always will.”

  “Because of your vow?”

  He shook his head. “Nay, not because of that.”

  The air between them felt thick with unspoken words.

  She swallowed. “Then why?”

  “Ye know why, lass.”

  “Do I?”

  He scooted closer, reached out and cuppe
d her face in his hands. “Because I love ye, lass. Have ye not worked that out by now?”

  And there it was.

  She closed her eyes, drinking in those words. I love ye, lass. Simple words. And yet they opened the path to so much, to more than she’d ever dared to dream.

  Euphoria washed through her. It was far more powerful than what she felt when she was doing her stonework. This feeling raced along her nerves, flooded her blood, blew through her soul like a summer storm.

  She opened her eyes to find him staring at her. God, he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

  “That’s good,” she said, trying and failing to make her voice light. “Because you know what? I love you too, Blair MacAuley.”

  For one, two, three heartbeats, he didn’t move. The moment stretched into a frozen tableau. Then he blinked as if her words had finally registered and he broke into that boyish, infectious grin, his eyes sparkling.

  “Ye will have to say that again, lass,” he murmured. “I think I might have misheard. Did ye say ye loathe me?”

  She laughed. “I said I love you, as you damn well know. How many times to you need to hear it?”

  “A thousand,” he laughed. “A million.”

  He gazed at her for a second, then he kissed her.

  Georgie’s eyes slid closed and she scooted closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him back. How long had she been waiting for this moment? Surely it was her entire life.

  He gripped her waist and jerked her hard against him as his tongue slipped between her lips and into her mouth, urgent and hungry. Then his hands were working on the laces of her dress, untying it and pushing it off her shoulders and down to her waist, exposing her chest. The cool air raised goose bumps across her skin but she barely noticed.

  Blair broke his kiss long enough to stare at her ravenously then, with a low growl, he dipped his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth. Georgie let out a moan and threw her head back. Blair licked and teased the hard nub, eliciting more gasps from Georgie and sending a hot ache of arousal to the spot between her legs.

  She leaned back on her elbows and lifted her backside, allowing Blair to pull the dress all the way off and toss it impatiently away. She was naked now and Blair’s eyes wandered over her body, taking in every inch with a look of pure desire. But she didn’t feel embarrassed or uncomfortable under that scrutiny. She felt emboldened. Alive. Like she was invincible.

  “Look at ye,” Blair murmured. “Perfect. Ye are perfect.”

  He leaned into her, laying tiny kisses along the skin of her neck and then her shoulder blade, gently pushing her onto her back on the thick grass. His kisses moved lower, his tongue trailing a line of fire across her breasts, her hips, her navel. Georgie gasped at the sensation. He was good. Jeez, he was good.

  He shifted, pushed her legs apart, and knelt between them. Placing his hands under her behind, he lifted her a little then met her gaze, his eyes dark with lust. But then he gave her that wicked, teasing smile, before leaning forward and trailing his tongue up the inside of her thigh.

  Georgie gasped, bucking under his touch and reached out to run her fingers through his thick, silky hair. His tongue moved higher, inching slowly, deliciously, up her thigh until finally, he found the core of warmth between her legs and set to work.

  It was almost too much to bear. Almost.

  His tongue found her nub and began massaging with expert skill, sending her arousal soaring. Desire burned along her nerves, every fiber and sinew beginning to tingle. He massaged and licked, sucked and rubbed, sending waves of pleasure through Georgie’s body the like of which she’d never felt before. What the hell was he doing to her? How was he making her body respond like this?

  It was more than she’d ever imagined. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted him. All of him.

  “Blair,” she gasped. “Stop.”

  He lifted his head, raising an eyebrow. She couldn’t put the words together. Instead, she began plucking weakly at his plaid, hoping the look in her eyes would tell him what she needed.

  It did.

  In a swift motion he untied the knot of his wet plaid and let it fall away. He knelt above her, naked. She gazed at him, eyes moving over him hungrily, from the contours of his shoulders and chest, to his tapered waist and his manhood, huge and swollen in his need for her.

  Swallowing thickly, she shifted into a sitting position and reached out, running her fingers along the length of him, softly at first but then with increasing pressure. He was rock hard. Blair’s eyes closed as a moan escaped him and she felt a thrill of satisfaction that she could return a little of the pleasure he’d just given her.

  “I canna do it,” he said, his voice a throaty growl.

  She looked up at him, still caressing his length. “Can’t do what?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Hold myself back any longer. I have to be inside ye.”

  He pushed her onto her back and followed her down, the weight of his hips settling against hers. He nudged her knees wider and paused for a moment, staring down into her eyes.

  “I love ye,” he whispered.

  Then he shifted his hips and drove himself deep inside her. Georgie gasped, clutching at his shoulders as her whole body caught on fire. Oh God. What was this?

  She had no words to describe it. Blair began moving, thrusting his pelvis, driving himself into her over and over. She moved in time with him, their bodies meeting in bursts of unendurable ecstasy.

  Dimly, Georgie was aware that she was raking her nails down his back, that Blair was growling so deeply she could feel the rumble through his chest, but these were peripheral things.

  He made love to her hard and deep, his strokes speaking of a long held desire finally released, like a flood breaking through a dam. Each movement of his body made the fire inside her rage higher, higher. She was gasping now, moaning, unable to stop the blaze that was beginning to consume her.

  Her body ached for release. She couldn’t hold on. She let go, released all control as she felt herself building, building, building. It hit her, blasted her into tiny pieces. She bucked beneath Blair, screwing her eyes tight shut and crying his name as it took her.

  Blair thrust deeply and held himself inside her as he too reached his climax and they remained that way for an endless moment. But finally, finally, the flames began to fade. She blinked open her eyes. Blair was lying atop her, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

  He lifted his head and gazed at her. “My wildcat. My beautiful wildcat.”

  She smiled. “Wild? Me? I don’t know what you mean.”

  He laughed softly, then rolled away from her, pulling her against him. She snuggled into the crook of his arm, fitting her body alongside his.

  “How is your shoulder?” she asked. “What we just did was probably a bad idea with an injury.”

  “Strangely enough I didnae feel it at all. I had my mind on other things.” He kissed her forehead.

  Georgie gave a contented sigh and relaxed against him. The touch of his skin was enough to keep her warm. Beyond this hidden loch they had all sorts of trouble waiting for them, but for now, for this instant, she just wanted to enjoy being alive. Being with Blair.

  She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until Blair woke her gently.

  “We had better get moving,” he said.

  Georgie sat up and looked around. The sun had fallen a little lower in the sky. “How long was I asleep?”

  “A couple of hours.”

  “A couple of hours? You should have woken me!”

  “Ye looked like ye needed the sleep and besides,” he added, giving her a leering grin. “I found myself enjoying the view.”

  She swatted at him. “Barbarian.”

  His grin widened. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  He handed over her dress, which he’d laid out to dry by the fire, then donned his shirt and plaid. Georgie didn’t move, watching him dress.

  “What?”

 
Georgie rested her chin on her hands. “Nothing. I’m just enjoying the view.”

  He laughed then knelt and kissed her. Arousal flashed through her immediately. The lightest of his touches was enough to make her ache for him.

  But he broke the kiss before it went too far and they got delayed even further, then stood and went to retrieve Trouble who’d wandered down the loch shore.

  Georgie quickly dressed and raked her fingers through her hair to remove the worst of the tangles. What she wouldn’t give for a hairbrush and a mirror right now.

  Blair led Trouble over, kicked earth on the fire, and they mounted. As Blair nudged Trouble into motion and they left the little valley, Georgie glanced anxiously over her shoulder. This place had been a haven, a little bubble of peace in a turbulent world. What waited for them outside its confines?

  They traveled steadily north for an hour or so and it was heading towards evening when Trouble suddenly pressed his ears flat against his head and snorted. Blair came instantly alert. He stood in the stirrups, head swiveling from side to side.

  Georgie went very still, listening. She couldn’t hear anything untoward.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “I dinna know,” he replied. “But after last time I’m not taking any chances.”

  He nudged Trouble into motion and they began moving again, slower this time, weaving carefully through the thinly spaced trunks of a pine forest.

  There was a flicker of movement ahead. Blair froze then swung down from the saddle, landing silently on the needle-strewn ground.

  “Wait here,” he said quietly. “I’ll go and investigate.”

  “No way. I’ll come with you. After last time, I’m not taking any chances,” she said, echoing his earlier statement.

  He hesitated then finally nodded. She dismounted and they crept slowly forward together, keeping low and making as little noise as possible. Up ahead, Georgie heard the tramp of many feet and the muted sound of conversation. The hairs on her neck rose and her pulse began to race. Had Beaumont’s forces found them?

 

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