Time of a Highlander (Arch Through Time, #12)
Page 24
IT WAS A LONG, LOUD, crazy evening full of laughter, singing, dancing, eating and drinking enough to make Georgie’s head spin. Perhaps it was the release of tension after finally ending Beaumont’s threat, or perhaps it was just because they were happy for her and Blair, but everyone most definitely let themselves go.
Georgie spent the evening dancing with more people than she could keep a count of—including Blair’s father, his uncles Logan and Finlay, his cousins Ross and Ramsay, as well as Aibne, Oswald, Alex MacGregor, and of course, her father.
In between dances she found herself mobbed by her new extended family—Blair’s mother, aunts, and his cousin’s wives, all of whom turned out to be time-travelers like her. It was quite a club. Blair had not been exaggerating when he’d said his family was well acquainted with time travel. It seemed she’d married into a family whose connection to the Fae ran very deep indeed.
As the sun began to finally dip towards the horizon and the torches were lit in the bailey, Georgie slumped back into her chair at the high table with aching feet and a sore throat from laughing so much. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun.
She leaned back in her chair, grateful for a second to catch her breath. She was alone at the high table for the moment. Blair was involved in a very loud arm wrestling contest with his cousin Ross, her father was dancing with a buxom MacGregor woman who seemed to have taken quite a shine to him, and Clara was sequestered in the corner, talking with Sean.
She breathed out, taking it all in. How could her life have change so radically? It was unrecognizable to what it had been only a few months ago. She looked over at Blair and smiled to herself. He and Ross were engaged in a heated but good-natured discussion about who’d won the arm wrestling, while Ramsay, who seemed the more sensible of Blair’s twin cousins, had taken up the role of peace-maker.
She glanced over at her father. The MacGregor woman—Alex’s aunt Sarah—had wrapped her arms around him and was holding him close as they danced. To be fair, her father didn’t seem to be complaining too much. Georgie grinned. Good. It would make her exceedingly happy if he could find somebody of his own in this new life of theirs.
For a wonder, nobody was paying her any attention. Taking advantage, she climbed to her feet and slipped away from the bailey, wanting a little air and quiet. She walked without thinking about where she was going, lost in thought, and when she finally looked up, she realized that her feet had brought her around the side of the kitchen to the east wing. She stopped.
The forbidden door lay ahead of her. It looked as ominous as ever with its dark wood and the symbols carved into it. Knowing what it guarded made it seem more menacing than ever. Georgie hesitated. She ought to return to the party but they wouldn’t miss her for a few minutes, surely?
She pulled the key from around her neck—she and Blair always wore one now—and set it into the lock, letting herself through.
The tombs no longer had the power to intimidate her, and she wove through them quickly, coming out into the chamber that housed the Great Arch. It loomed above her, huge and imposing, its concentric arches glittering in the fading light. She crossed to the wall and lit one of the torches then sat down cross-legged in front of the arch, staring up at it.
She was starting to get used to the idea of being a Builder—and the responsibility it brought.
“I said it wouldnae be easy.”
Georgie spun at the sudden voice. A figure was standing by the door, cloaked in shadow.
“Who’s there?”
The figure stepped forward to reveal a short old woman with iron-gray hair.
Irene MacAskill.
Georgie sighed. Somehow she’d known it would be Irene. Somehow she’d known she would be waiting down here for her. She said nothing for a moment, watching the old woman. It was she who’d started all of this, the one who’d set her on the path that led to this moment, to the danger, the heart-break, the despair. And ultimately to the joy that lay on the other side.
“Yes,” she agreed. “You did.”
Irene walked forward and lowered herself, with much huffing and puffing, to sit by Georgie’s side. She didn’t look like an all-powerful Fae, she looked like a tired old woman who’d seen too much. Her expression, as she stared up at the arch, was sad.
“Are you okay?” Georgie asked.
Irene turned to look at her and smiled. “Aye, my dear. I was just thinking of how the wheel continues to turn, bringing everything around again.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do ye know how long it is since a Builder was born into the world? How long since a human was born with the power to manipulate Fae magic? To Build Fae constructs? So long that it’s faded from memory and has become little more than myth. But here ye are, at the start of it all again. Ye are the beginning but many more will come after ye.”
Georgie stared at her. “What are you saying? That my children will have this power too?”
“Who can say?” Irene replied. “But what a line ye will create: Blair MacAuley for a father and Georgina Smyth for a mother. It will be an exciting time for the future.”
Georgie didn’t know what to say to that. Nobody, not even Irene it seemed, had an explanation as to why she’d been born as a Builder. If her descendants had the power to create Fae archways...She remembered the Unseelie court and shivered. If somebody like Adaira Campbell should get hold of this power...It didn’t bear thinking about.
As if reading her thoughts, Irene patted her on the knee and said, “Aye, my dear. It’s quite the responsibility isnae it? Will ye accept it? Will ye and yer new husband agree to guard the secret of the arches with yer lives? Only that way can the balance be protected.”
Georgie glanced up at the Great Arch. She could barely remember restoring it. The Fae magic had worked through her, making her little more than a tool. But it was still her responsibility.
“Yes,” she said. “You don’t even need to ask. We will guard this secret of the Fae. You have my word.”
Irene smiled, nodding. “I knew ye would, my dear.” She cocked her head to the side. “Ye are a remarkable young woman, Georgina MacAuley, ye know that?”
Georgie laughed. “Thanks. I think.” She considered the tiny old woman. “I mean it,” she said. “Thank you, Irene. You spoke truly—it wasn’t an easy path—but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Without you I’d never have found Blair. I’d never have found my true path. So thank you.”
Irene broke into a beatific smile, one that made her dark eyes sparkle. “Ye are most welcome, my dear.”
She gave Georgie one last pat on the knee and then climbed to her feet. Gone was the huffing and puffing of earlier, this time she moved as sprightly as a teenager. Irene gave her a smile, a wink, and then walked through the Great Arch. Her form shimmered for an instant, as if seen through heat-haze, and then she was gone.
Georgie sat in silence, staring up at the arch, thinking through all Irene had said. She had no idea how much time had passed when another voice spoke softly behind her.
“I thought I might find ye down here.”
A delicious shiver went through her at the sound of his voice. She glanced over her shoulder to see Blair standing in the doorway. As always, she’d not heard him approach.
“Oh dear. I hope I’m not getting predictable already.”
He laughed, crossed the floor and sat cross-legged next to her. “I dinna think ye could ever be predictable, love. I have the feeling that when we’re old and gray ye’ll still be surprising me.”
When we’re old and gray. She liked the sound of that. She could think of nothing she wanted more than growing old with Blair by her side.
“So who won the arm wrestling?”
He snorted. “I did, of course. Ross is a cheating bastard, no matter what he says.” His voice was full of warmth and humor. “What are ye doing down here?”
“Just...thinking. And speaking to Irene MacAskill.”
“She was here? What did she want
?”
“To thank me. Us. For keeping the balance.” She turned to meet his gaze. “And to warn us that we have a duty to protect the Great Arch now.”
He nodded. “Aye, we do.” He reached out and interlaced his fingers through hers. “It’s a shame I missed her. I would have thanked her, even though the path she set us on was hard. It led me to ye. And now, thanks to her, I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”
He fell silent, meeting her gaze. His eyes were the sharpest blue she’d ever seen. She could lose herself in them. She curled her fingers around his, feeling her heart swell. God, how she loved this man.
He scooted closer, leaned in, and pressed his lips against hers. It was a soft kiss, barely a touch really, but it sent her heart soaring.
“Do ye know how much I love ye?” Blair breathed, his face only inches from her own.
“I’m not sure,” she replied a little breathlessly. “Perhaps you need to show me.”
Something flashed in his eyes, something dark and hungry. “Aye, maybe I do.”
He kissed her again, more insistently this time, pulling her close so that her chest was pressed against his. Georgie’s body responded. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers running through his thick, silky hair. Blair’s tongue darted into her mouth, pushing her lips apart, and caressing her tongue in a slow, sensual dance. A hot ache lit between Georgie’s legs. She wanted him. She always wanted him. It took only the briefest of his touches for her body to come alive.
Blair’s kiss deepened, becoming wilder, more passionate. Georgie closed her eyes and gave into it, unable to stop the little sighs of pleasure that began to escape her. His arms circled behind, deftly untying the laces of her dress. He shrugged it from her shoulders then took off his cloak and laid it on the floor.
With eyes gone dark with lust, he looked her over, then pushed her onto her back, yanked the dress down to expose her chest and paused for a moment, hovering over her so that his hair hung down to tickle her chin.
Then he leaned down and kissed her again, first on the lips, then on the neck, then along her shoulder blade, each sensual touch raising goose bumps along her skin and deepening the ache inside her. His kisses traveled to her chest and he trailed his tongue around her breasts, licking and teasing her nipples until Georgie gasped.
She began pulling at his ceremonial plaid, desperate to get him out of it. She got it untied, tossed it away, then yanked his shirt over his head. Blair knelt above her, naked, the light from the torches playing over his contoured muscle, making little hollows of light and shadow.
She sat up, ran her hands over his chest, loving the hard feeling of his body under her touch. She trailed her fingertips down his sides and to his manhood that stood out, hard and ready. She took hold of him, caressing and stroking.
Blair threw his head back, gasping as she worked him, his breathing turning heavy. Then he straightened, his eyes snapping to hers and she was nearly floored by the naked, raw desire in them.
He pressed her gently down onto the cloak, pulled her dress off the rest of the way so that she lay completely naked beneath him. He knelt between her knees, running his hands up her thighs. She shivered under his touch. His hand moved higher, trailing a delicious shiver all the way up her inner thigh to the spot between her legs.
She moaned as his thumb found her nub and began massaging expertly, exerting just the right pressure in just the right places to send hot spears flooding through her. Georgie flung her head back, gasping. How did he know exactly what she needed? How could he tell exactly what she wanted from him?
Her hips bucked as he slipped two fingers inside her and began to move them expertly, just enough to send those ripples cascading through her, but not enough to send her over the edge.
“Blair,” she whispered. “I want you inside me.”
He growled in response, a deep animal sound that spoke of unalloyed desire. He pushed her knees further apart, placed his hands to either side of her head, and stared down at her. His eyes brimmed with unspoken promises. She saw their life together stretching away in that gaze.
Then he dropped his hips and drove himself inside her, right up to the hilt. Georgie bucked and cried out as he filled her. It felt right. Oh God, it felt more right than anything had in her life. He was her husband. Her love. She felt whole. Complete.
Blair began to move. He thrust hard, driving himself into her over and over. Each thrust stoked the fire higher, sent the coals roaring into life. It felt glorious. She was aware that she was gasping and moaning, her cries loud enough to echo in the cavernous chamber. But there was nobody down here to hear. It was just her and Blair.
Blair’s movements became harder, faster, driving into her in an almost wild abandon, claiming her as his. The tingles roving across Georgie’s skin intensified, becoming almost like an electric current. She felt herself begin to come apart. She screwed her eyes shut as an explosion ripped through her body, obliterating her thoughts.
She screamed his name as she bucked against him. She raked her nails down his back. He grunted, thrust deeply, and shuddered as he spilled himself inside her, pressing his forehead hard against her shoulder as shudders of ecstasy went through his body.
For a long time they stayed like that.
Then slowly, he raised his head and gazed at her. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. He just pressed his lips against her forehead, her nose, her lips. After a moment he rolled off her, pulling his plaid over them both to keep them warm.
Georgie raised herself onto her elbow and watched him.
“What?” he asked her with a laugh.
“Oh, nothing,” she said. “I was just enjoying the view.”
He laughed. “Maybe we should be getting back to our guests. I think yer father might need rescuing from Sarah MacGregor.”
Georgie raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure he can look after himself—and I’m not entirely sure he’d appreciate being rescued.”
He nodded, falling silent. He reached up and ran his thumb down her cheek.
“Are ye sure ye made the right choice?” he asked finally. “The twenty-first century—from the little I saw of it—is an age of wonders. Are ye sure ye wish to give that all up?”
She shook her head, laughing softly. Sometimes he really was dense. “Yes,” she agreed. “Maybe it is an age of wonders and has lots of things that this time doesn’t. But it doesn’t have the most important thing of all.”
“And what’s that?”
She rolled her eyes. “You, you idiot! And besides, we have a Great Arch don’t we? If I really have to get my coffee fix, I’m sure we could pop back from time to time.”
Blair glanced at the arch rearing above them. “I’m not sure Irene MacAskill would appreciate that.”
“Why not? Being guardians of the arch has to have some perks, doesn’t it?”
“Aye,” he grinned, rolling towards her and kissing her. “I suppose it does.”
Conversation stopped after that.
THE END
If you’d like to be notified of new releases, learn more about the world of the Arch Through Time, and receive a fortnightly email containing news, chat and more, why not sign up for the author’s newsletter?
Subscribe to Katy's newsletter
Want some more Highland adventure? Then why not try the other books in the series? Click here to grab your copies!
Would you like to know more of Irene MacAskill’s story? Guardian of a Highlander, a free short story is available as a free gift to all my newsletter subscribers. Sign up below to grab your copy and receive a fortnightly email containing news, chat and more. Subscribe to Katy's newsletter
What do you do when destiny comes knocking?
Irene Buchanan is running from hers. Gifted with Fae blood, she is fated to become the Guardian of the Highlands.
But Irene wants none of it. Soon to be married to her childhood sweetheart, she has everything she ever dreamed of. Why would she risk that for a bargain with the Fae?
The fate of the Highlands lies in her hands.