****
He ran up the steps, checking his watch again. He was later than usual, only fifteen minutes to visit with his lady before closing time. Tossing the exact amount to the cashier, he hurried through the connecting halls to his lady’s niche. Tomorrow he would be going home and this would be his last chance to see her before departing. The University only allotted a small amount of funding for his research and it would be another year before he received the allotment again. This had been his fifth visit to China, and after locating and becoming acquainted with his lady, he found time every day to visit her for a few minutes.
To his annoyance, another person occupied his usual seat and he would not be alone with her. From outward appearances, it was a young woman, though she appeared to be crying, her face buried in her hands. Perhaps she would leave if he made himself known.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” He leaned against the glass enclosure, staring down at the mummy who haunted his every waking moment and most of his dreams as well. “I visit everyday and sit with her for awhile. I can’t seem to get enough of her.”
Fiona froze, her hands covering her face. Without a doubt, she was finally losing her mind. So strong was her desire to find Kellach, she was now imagining him talking to her! She felt normal, though, and she knew where she was, but she was definitely losing it.
“Though no one knows it, her name was Fiona,” he continued conversationally. “You probably think I’m crazy for believing that, but I knew it the moment I saw her.” He continued to stare down into the glass coffin.
That voice! That much loved voice! She knew that voice as if it were her own, and though he was speaking English, the deep mellifluous tones of his voice were unchanged. Her heart rate escalated, pounding in excitement, blood rushing to her face, a tingling sensation running down every limb. She felt as though she was choking. A wave of dizziness left her weak!
Fiona tilted her head slightly and peeked through her fingers, not daring to believe. Though his back was to her, the man stood tall, with short blond hair curling around his ears and shoulders almost obscuring the width of the glass case. Long muscular legs showed beneath the khaki walking shorts. She gasped, drawing a deep breath, realizing she had forgotten to breathe. Staring at his back, her hands began to tremble and she dropped them to her lap, holding onto her knees to steady them.
The man continued his one-sided conversation. “She was excavated from a gravesite near Loulan. They say she might have been a sacrificial victim, but I know otherwise.” His words were mere murmurs, for his benefit alone.
Fiona swallowed hard. “How do you know?” she croaked, not daring to speak too loud.
“She was murdered.” He sounded so sad. “Murdered by a bitch of a woman before he could save her.”
“Who…who couldn’t save her?”
“The man who loved her—her husband. He tried. He almost made it, but he was too late.” The man’s head dropped, as if in pain. “He executed her murderer, but he was too late!”
“How do you know this?”
He inhaled deeply. “I have always known. She has haunted my dreams for as long as I can remember. He couldn’t save her, though he tried so very hard.”
The bell signaling the closing of the museum sounded. He sighed, speaking to the mummy. “Goodbye, sweet lady. Until next year.”
He turned to leave, not even glancing in her direction. As if in a dream, she watched him walk away. She needed to see his face! Struggling, she labored to find something to say, something to keep him here for a few moments longer.
“What happened to him—the husband?” she croaked.
He stopped, speaking over his shoulder. “He died—eventually. He did save his son, though.”
Fiona’s heart leapt. “He saved Con!” She shrieked jumping up. “How do you know that?” Tears washing her cheeks.
The man straightened up. Shaking his head, he slowly turned until he faced her. She stared into eyes the color of liquid honey, but brooding and closed, not warm as she remembered. As he returned her look, recognition dawned in the depths of his eyes.
“Who are you? How do you know about Con?” he demanded.
“Fiona, my name is Fiona. Fiona Sutton.” Excitement caused her voice to break. Gone was the tattoo that had decorated his face in the past, but the face was the same. The lips full and masculine, the small indentation kissing his chin, the blond hair, easily the most gorgeous hunk of male she had ever seen!
“Who are you?” Fiona asked, secretly praying for the right answer.
His gaze never wavering, he reached up and pulled the hat from her head. Long hair the color of silver-gilded moonbeams fell to her waist, framing a face only imagined. Shocked, he could only stare into eyes the color of spring leaves, glistening with unshed tears. Her perfectly sculpted face, devoid of any makeup, took his breath away. Her full trembling lips curved slightly upwards, the merest hint of a smile escaping.
“You don’t exist! You’re just a dream!” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I must be dreaming again!” Every memory, every dream centered around this woman or a woman so close in looks, he was at a loss to understand. He turned away, almost angry, desperate to believe but afraid at the same time.
She touched his arm. “If you are, then we both must be,” she reassured him, “because I’m having the same dream.”
Suspicious, his eyes narrowed. “Tell me again. Who are you?”
“My name is Fiona Sutton. I am the daughter of Professor Sutton.”
“James Sutton?” he asked, surprised. “He’s here right now, isn’t he? I think I heard that.”
“Exactly! I’m his daughter.”
“But why do you look exactly like my dream lady?” “Why do you look exactly like my Kellach?”
Shocked, he was almost speechless. “You know about Kellach?”
She nodded, her face pinking. “Are you the reincarnation of Kellach—are you Kellach?”
He shook his head. “Not Kellach, at least not in this life. My name’s Kellen. Kellen Ballard. I’m from southern California. An associate professor of Celtic studies.”
“But were you Kellach in another life?”
“I don’t honestly know,” he sighed. “I’ve had these dreams, really vivid dreams, for as long as I can remember, and they’ve gotten worse lately.”
A museum guide stepped in. “Closing time,” she intoned in her singsong English. “Leave now.” She shooed them with her hands, pushing them out the door. “Come back tomorrow. Museum opens nine o’clock.”
Reluctantly, they stepped out of the room, each barely able to keep their eyes off the other.
“And…” Fiona prompted him.
“And in my dreams, it is another time and place and there is this beautiful woman who I love more than life itself and she’s murdered and I can’t save her, no matter how many times I dream the same dream over and over.” He looked at her intently, “Do you have those kinds of dreams?”
“I only had one, or memories of some other time surfaced. I don’t know. I was in a car wreck and that’s when they surfaced. I can’t believe you are actually standing here,” Fiona whispered. “I had given up all hope of ever seeing you again.”
The museum guide pushed them impatiently along, her attitude one of frustration and annoyance.
“Come with me.” He took her arm. “Have you eaten?”
They walked out into the evening sun. Fiona slowly perused his beloved face. Such a perfect match for Kellach, although lacking the striking facial tattoo. Shaggy blonde hair, longer than currently fashionable, framed his strong, sensuous features. His warm honey eyes smoldered as he returned her curious gaze, delving deep into her soul, searching for answers. She felt his confusion, hope glimmering in the shuttered recesses.
Her lips curved in a slight smile. “Seems like all I’ve done lately is wander around searching for you.”
Surprised, Kellen exclaimed. “You came here looking for me?”
Her
eyes dropped. “Yes,” she nodded, “you and Connach, and to find a reason why I dreamt of this place.” Her face flushed with the admission.
He reached out, gently cupping her face, forcing her eyes to him. “You’ve been in my dreams for most of my life.”
His smile flashed, dimples deepening his cheeks. Fiona’s heart contracted painfully—his smile was so identical to Kellach’s, warm and compelling.
“Your tooth,” she exclaimed. “It’s straight.”
“Uh, yeah, four years of braces in high school. Four years for one silly tooth.” He led her down the steps of the museum. “What specifically do you remember about that life?”
Smiling impishly, she reminisced. “I remember Conan was once a menu item.”
Tilting his head to the side, he regarded her quizzically. “So you remember Conan as well.”
“And Tanith, and Siran, Cyrnon, Xio Li and Mei Mei, everyone my ancestor or whoever she was, came in contact with.” She waited expectantly for his response.
A faraway look settled on Kelly’s face. “I have had so many dreams of those people, but mostly I dreamt of a beautiful blonde woman I loved beyond reason—a woman who was murdered by a dark-haired witch.” His voice grew husky with emotion.
“I know—Voadicia.” She hesitated. “Kellach looked just like you, except for the tattoo of a bird on the side of his face—and he had longer hair!” She reached up, smoothing his temple. “Here, and then the tattoo went up onto his forehead.”
His voice deepened seductively as he trapped her hand against his face. “Do I have to have a tattoo?”
“Back then, everyone had them. Now? I don’t think so! It wouldn’t look right.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “In California, tattoos and piercing are pretty fashionable.” He pulled his shirt sleeve up. A small tattoo of a bird of prey decorated his upper arm.
Fiona gasped. It was so like the one on Kellach’s face, it was almost eerie. “How did you know?”
“In one of my dreams, Kellach looked into a bronze mirror—one that he gave to Fiona. I remember what the tattoo looked like.” He shrugged in embarrassment. “It made me feel closer to her.”
Taking her hand, he led her down a number of side streets, zigzagging through the busy marketplace. Raucous sounds assaulted Fiona’s ears—people haggling over prices, street vendors calling out their wares, and the honking of small cars forcing their way through the crowded streets. Finally, he stopped in a small, secluded oriental garden surrounding a small fountain, ringed by several low benches. Charmed, she sat down, enjoying this island of serenity away from the noise of the busy streets.
Coughing delicately, she hesitated, suddenly awkward. “Are you involved with anyone?”
“Do you mean, do I have a girlfriend or…”
“Yes—a wife or a girlfriend.” Her heart thumped erratically, fearful of his reply.
Kellen drew a deep breath. “No wife and not many female friends—and none since I first saw her body! No one in this lifetime ever seemed to measure up. She was like an obsession I couldn’t overcome—but now I’ve met you.” He abruptly reached out, caressing her long hair, reverently fingering the soft silky strands.
Fiona’s breath stilled and she froze, mesmerized by his touch. Buried emotions coursed through her being, burgeoning up and enveloping her in a warm cocoon of joy. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered, fearful of breaking the spell that bound them.
“I’m not Kellach.” He stated baldly. “But I have experienced every feeling he had in that life. Some of my first memories are his.”
“I don’t know why and I will never understand, but I lived a life for two years that wasn’t my own, and it wasn’t just bits and pieces. I lived every day, twenty-four seven, and I loved Kellach with every ounce of my soul. It hurt so badly the day he left. I knew I would never see him again.” Her lips trembled and tears coursed down her cheeks. “What about Con? You said you knew about Con.” Fearfully, she waited for his answer.
“Con grew up to be a mighty warrior and took over as leader of the southern tribe when Kellach abdicated. He fathered a whole tribe by his five wives and was loved by all. Tanith and Kellach never let him forget his mother and he visited her grave often. You would have been so proud of him.”
A huge lump formed in her throat. “I never knew until today what happened to Connach. No matter what, I feel like I was his mother and I never got to see him get his first tooth, or walk or talk or any of the things a mother should see! My arms still ache for him. I would have so loved to see him grow up. It just isn’t fair.”
Kellen drew her close, wrapping her in his comfort and strength, her face buried in the V of his neck.
“I wish you had those things. I can only tell you that he had a good life and he never forgot his mother. Kellach made sure of that.”
Fiona returned his embrace, afraid to let go, afraid he would disappear again if she did. She inhaled his masculine scent. He might deny that he was Kellach, but her senses told her differently. He felt the same when her arms circled his waist.
He pulled back, searching her face for acceptance, or perhaps rejection, and when none came, he kissed her, his lips hungry and demanding. The months of loneliness and despair fell away as she kissed him back, her mouth opening to him, craving his touch.
“Fiona,” he whispered. “I told you I would return.”
She burst out crying, tears of happiness and joy. “I waited for you, but Voadicia had other ideas.”
He soothed her, wiping the tears away. “She died that day, quickly and without mercy.”
Reluctantly, he pulled back, releasing her. “Though I don’t want to, can I take you back to your hotel?” Something flickered across his features, perhaps sadness or yearning.
Her eyes caught and held his. “No…but you can take me to yours.”
Seconds ticked by. Nervous perspiration trickled down her armpits, as she waited for his reaction, anxious and unsure.
“Is that what you really want?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” She wasn’t about to lose him now that she’d found him again. “Don’t you want me?”
“You need to ask? I’ve wanted you my whole life.” Time ceased to exist as his lips claimed hers in an embrace that sizzled hotly in the coolness of the small garden. She returned his kiss deeply, tongues dancing in a celebration of life. Her knees grew limp as desire pooled at the apex of her thighs, craving his touch and longing to touch in return. Her hands tugged at his neck, pulling his face down to better taste the firm, sensuous lines of his lips more completely. Kellen groaned, his hard body pressed demandingly against her, igniting fires buried under the loneliness of the past months.
“We need to go—now!” He growled, his eyes burning with blatant desire. Scooping her up, he strode purposely out of the garden, amid the curious and horrified stares of the passing shoppers. Fiona laughed gleefully, uncaring that they were making a foreign spectacle of themselves. Life had suddenly become too good to be true. Kellach had found her and she was his once again. The last vestiges of ice that had settled around her heart melted in one final rush of joy.
“Where are we going?”
“My hotel is just around the corner.”
And it was. He pushed open the inn’s door, storming towards the open-mouthed attendant at the front desk. Flipping her over his shoulder, he tossed the attendant a handful of bills, spoke briefly and, without breaking stride, headed to the stairs leading to the second floor. She smothered a giggle. The outraged attendant chattered angrily as he counted the bills. Kellen climbed the steps two at a time and hurried to a door at the end of the hall. She marveled that he had not even broken a sweat during the whole process, instead acting as though her weight was less than nothing.
“What did you say to that angry little man?”
His eyes twinkled. “I told him you were my long lost wife—not like I lied or anything! I think we need to finish what we st
arted three thousand years ago.”
“What exactly do you mean?”
“I mean, I have no intention of ever letting you go, and that starts right now.” His eyes gleamed with sensuous promise.
“There’s just one small problem,” Fiona hesitantly confessed.
“What’s that? Are you married, engaged, or something? I forgot to ask.”
“No, no, nothing like that. It’s just, well, it’s just—I’m a virgin again!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I’m not.” And she wasn’t, not then nor later. Hungrily, she pulled at his shirt, buttons popping as material ripped. When his chest was finally bare, she laved his hard nipples with her tongue, delighting in his firm sleek muscles. Maybe not an eight pack this time, but certainly a six pack. Her hands worked the buckle of his belt, fumbling in her haste to feel every inch of his being.
He laughed. “We in a hurry?”
His hands had mysteriously worked their way under her clothing, thumbing her nipples to hard peaks.
“You’d better believe it,” she gasped as she worked the buckle free. She unzipped his pants and pushed them down. His engorged member sprang up, pressing against her now bare belly.
“Might be easier on both of us if my shoes were off.” Humor sparked from his warm gaze.
“Oh, yeah! I forgot.” She knelt in front of him, her long hair brushing his upper thighs as she worked the laces of his shoes. Freed, he kicked his trousers aside, fully naked now. She stepped back, her eyes traveling up the length of him, noting with pleasure his well-endowed member nestled at the V of his long muscular legs. Her gaze roamed up, past his well-defined, lightly furred pecs, to shoulders so wide, they obscured the room behind and, finally, to his well-loved face, curiously returning her gaze.
“Do I pass inspection?”.
“Most certainly…and then some.” She ran her hands over every inch of his body, as though reaffirming his contours in her mind.
10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set Page 30