10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set

by P. L. Parker, Beth Trissel, L. L. Muir, Skhye Moncrief, Sky Purington, Nancy Lee Badger, Caroline Clemmons, Bess McBride, Donna Michaels

  Life as he knew it would cease to exist the moment he arrived at Castle Ruadh and married his bride. But, when he tried to picture the ceremony, only Haven’s shining smile came to mind.

  * * * * *

  The man Kirk called cousin flicked a poisonous glare in her direction, tempered by animal lust. She swung her attention to Kirk’s retreating back as she reined in her mount. The sight of Kirk’s broad shoulders and taut, trim backside melted her insides. As he shouted to his men in his commanding Scottish burr, her heart skipped a beat. She squirmed in the saddle recalling how his large hands caressed her thighs. Why had she let him kiss her so intimately?

  Haven quit gawking, ignored his cousin, and turned her attention to the lay of the land. The trees thinned and the road widened. Of course, since she had no idea what part of New England they rode through, she didn’t know what to make of this whole adventure. Her aching body, on the other hand, wondered about the location of the closest hotel. A hot shower, a soft bed, and room service would be heavenly.

  For two?

  Dream on, sweetheart.

  She yanked such thoughts away even though her body tingled and her thighs clenched with need. Her horse skittered sideways.

  “Easy boy.” Before she could dwell on her growing feelings for Kirk, and how her spell might have brought them together, a man ran from the forest. Cameron, still beside her, drew his sword and galloped toward him and Kirk. Haven’s breath hitched until the man slid to a stop then bowed. He must be one of Kirk’s previously mentioned perimeter guards.

  With one hand splayed across her chest, she slowed her breaths and grew close enough to listen. The guard held a rustic bow in one hand, a dirk in the other, and sucked in gulps of air.

  “They come at a pace fast and true, my laird. Me thinks they saw smoke from our morning fires. I hid on yonder hillside and spied them heading this way across the valley. Only a few are mounted and those appear injured.”

  “How many?” Cameron asked.

  “Ten, I count,” he wheezed, “about an hour’s ride from here. I ran fast as I could.” He bent at the waist, with his hands on his knees.

  “Why are ye afoot?” Kirk asked.

  “My mount stepped in the burrow of a pine martin. Broke its leg.”

  “Dead?”

  The man nodded. “I could not leave her in agony.”

  “Share a saddle with the cooking wench.”

  Kirk pointed to the woman called Gavina.

  I think she’s more interested in riding in Kirk’s lap, Haven thought.

  Cameron, meanwhile, bent over and patted the breathless man’s shoulder with obvious gratitude. Haven pulled her pony beside the tired guard and unhitched a skin filled with water.

  “Drink. You must be thirsty.” The man grabbed the skin of water and Haven’s wrist, shaking her arm with gratitude even as her mind tried to wrap itself around his words. His fear seemed real.

  This has to be an act.

  While Cameron rode ahead, Kirk circled back. He flicked a glance from her to the sentry who continued to shake her hand.

  “Ride to the rear with Cameron and warn those guarding the treasure wagon,” Kirk said. Young Gavina stiffened as the sentry mounted behind her, her brown eyes flashing.

  She doesn’t look happy at all.

  Cameron yelled a command and the riders and wagons took off at a much faster pace. Haven held tight to her animal’s reins and prayed she stayed in the saddle. Kirk rode beside her.

  “Make haste. Yer friends are determined to catch us. Either they are men of pride unable to let go when bested or—”

  “Or, what?”

  “Or, they want their prize returned.” He kneed his mount and gained speed. Haven followed close behind as the meaning of his words stabbed her with a terror she hadn’t thought possible. She held on to the beast’s mane with one hand and the reins with the other. She followed the man who cared for her safety.

  And as his words sunk in, she recalled the lust-filled faces of the men he’d killed. She’d stumbled into their encampment and the echoes of their threat and taunts made her shudder. They were not the sort of men a person stumbled across in northern New England.

  Where the heck am I?

  * * * * *

  Many tension-filled hours later, when the sun cruised high overhead and the air grew hot and dry, the group stopped beside a river. Several men dismounted and led their beasts to drink.

  “Is it safe to stop?” she asked young Reid who’d appeared on foot beside her and her pony. “And I thought you were back with the wagons.”

  The young man smiled up at her and offered his one good hand. She slipped off the pony, and into his chest. Haven’s legs felt rubbery. As she held the horse’s reins, she also clasped Reid’s sweaty palm.

  “Mind yer manners, boy.”

  Haven jumped and the startled horse shied away. Reid released her hand as if burned and she swayed. Two large hands gripped her around the waist.

  “I was helping her—”

  “I knew what ye are about, Reid. Best return to yer place by the wagons.”

  She watched the boy blush bright red. He hung his head and turned on his heel without a word. Releasing her, Kirk grabbed her pony’s reins and led the animal to the water.

  As it drank, he watched her.

  Erratic heartbeats pumped heated blood through her veins. She felt her own cheeks redden at the same instant a surge of heat raced to the sensitive area between her legs.

  “Cameron feels we managed to outrun the mercenaries for the time being. We shall make use of a short break to rest our mounts. Quench yer thirst.”

  Her water skin was empty. She walked upriver from the thirsty animals and then knelt on the grassy bank. As fresh water bubbled into the carrier and rushed over her heated skin, she moaned. Kirk appeared beside her and offered her his hand. Surprised, she looked up at him, then waved him off.

  “I’m certain you’ve more important things to do.” With a sudden shadowing of the noon sun her only warning, he grabbed her around the waist, and lifted. Captured and held tight to a rock-hard chest, she said the first thing that came to mind.

  “Put me down, you big oaf.”

  He chuckled.

  Entwined within rippling muscles, she struggled, but he never flinched.

  “If I had my way, I would never put ye down unless ‘twas into my bed.” He nuzzled the sensitive skin under her left ear then landed a smattering of delicate kisses down her neck.

  She melted and slid down his body until her feet touched the ground. Evidence of his arousal made her jump back and slam against the side of her pony.

  The animal whinnied in protest.

  “What be the problem over there?” Cameron popped out from behind another horse. His sudden arrival brought flames to her cheeks.

  “No problem. The lady lost her footing. All is well. See to the men.”

  He lied to Cameron.

  Kirk flashed a look that begged her to go along with his sudden subterfuge. Not wanting to cause discontent among her rescuers, she nodded. Kirk smiled and Cameron glared. When his cousin turned away, she caught the guilt flooding Kirk’s face.

  Why should he act guilty? It’s not like I belong to anyone anymore.

  A horrid thought rippled through her but she shook away the notion. Both Reid and Kirk told her Kirk hadn’t had a girlfriend for some time.

  Where’s the harm in playing along?

  When she forced a tiny smile, he inhaled deeply. She listened as his breath hissed past his teeth.

  Maybe he isn’t acting.

  Kirk’s glare burned through her from lips to toes. When he swept his gaze up and down her body, heat seared her skin and she could sense a blush spread from her cheeks to chest, all but broadcasting her attraction to the man. Why couldn’t she get a handle on her reactions?

  “My lady, ye look in need of rest. Perhaps a bath?”

  “I’m eager to get to our destination.” Wherever that might be. The
man’s eyes flashed the moment she refused to back down from his glare. The blue of his eyes bore into her, enhanced by his own flushed cheeks due, no doubt, to Cameron’s interruption. Though she stood her ground, sweat bloomed around the collar of her itchy bodice. His polite offer of a bath began to sound more like a necessity.

  Yet I can’t ignore the need to keep him at a distance.

  “I would love to take a bath,” she said, a little too quickly. To gain control, she wiped her hands down her skirts to dry her sweaty palms.

  “I thought you might, dear lady.”

  “But, I don’t think I want to bathe with an audience.”

  Kirk glanced at the dozens of men who moved along the banks of the river. He turned back to Haven. “We must not stay too long in one place, but a short bath in this stream could be arranged.”

  “What about the men following us? Shouldn’t we get to a town and make a formal complaint at a police department?”

  “Police department?”

  “Yeah, the men in blue. The guys with guns. The law.”

  “Aye, villages have men who keep the peace. However, the men who follow might be Mackenzie’s men, mercenaries, outlaws for hire—”

  “I know what a mercenary is.”

  “Good. As I was saying, it is our duty to either flee or fight. Normally we love a good fight, but we must not stray from our destination.”

  “Castle Ruadh?”

  “Aye. We must not risk the wagons…or ye.”

  “But, what if they—”

  “Guards are posted. Others lag behind as scouts. Once inside the safety of the castle’s walls, our shadows will not linger. They will find easier prey to hunt, and forget ye.”

  “And you?”

  His eyes widened.

  Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?

  She didn’t care what happened once she found her way to the games. Would he?

  Kirk’s eyebrows rose as he seemed to contemplate her words. “I shall never forget ye, my lady.”

  * * * * *

  Haven slipped off her borrowed shoes and untied the golden sash corralling her ponytail. Without shampoo, she hoped dunking her head would at least wash off the road dust and horsey smell. Turning toward the river, she stared in awe at its magnificence. White foam raced over half-submerged rocks. Tall grass swayed in the breeze. On the far side, rocky peaks beckoned.

  “Everything looks wrong. I must be more tired than I realized. Perhaps a bath will snap me out of this confusion.” She turned back to Kirk.

  He watched her, intently.

  “There aren’t any vistas like this near the Highland games. I’ve traveled all over New England. These peaks and this river are totally foreign.” She spread her arms wide toward the graceful river valley. “I know because I have a photographic memory.”

  “Photo…graphic?”

  “I remember everything I see in complete detail.”

  “That is quite a gift, among many ye possess.” His deep smile pulled at his ragged scar, giving him a devilish grin. A strong gust of warm wind buffeted his hair.

  Heat flooded her cheeks, again.

  Stop blushing like a teenager every time he smiles!

  Haven spun, then tiptoed into the water. The chill made her gasp.

  Behind her, Kirk chuckled.

  The cold could not sway her from her bath. She smelled, simple as that. Re-enactors followed their historical playbill to the letter.

  “Give me yer clothes.”

  “No.” She swung back to face him and nearly lost her balance on the mossy bottom. His blue eyes darkened to black. His glare, obviously meant to scare her, hinted at his sexual attraction. When his brow wrinkled, Haven watched with feigned interest as he rubbed his strong, square chin with one hand while the other hand rested on the hilt of his dirk.

  He shaved. When?

  Her thighs were still raw and chafed from his beard. Now he wanted her clothes? She refused to strip in front of him no matter how dirty. Taking orders from any man ended the same day Cal broke her heart.

  “My lady,” he said, approaching cautiously, “I merely want to relieve ye of yer burden. I have a clean towel for ye.”

  Happy at the prospect of rinsing the dirt away, she unlaced her bodice. He moved closer. “Please…”

  “Are you begging?” she teased. Dropping her vest beside her shoes, Haven rolled her skirt up high and then waded into deeper water.

  “Please, Haven.” He growled and held out his open hand. “Give me yer overdress. Keep yer under clothes on.

  The poor man. He’d shown her nothing but kindness and had had ample opportunity to take advantage of her.

  Trust starts here.

  She peeled the outer dress up and over her head. The wet hem made it heavy. The hot sun would hopefully dry it before she had to replace it, later. Kirk’s gaze did not move from her chest.

  With a grunt of satisfaction, she tossed the dress through the air to the bank, ignoring his outstretched hand. Tearing his gaze from her, he walked over, stood near the river’s edge, and picked up the lump of fabric. She turned away before removing her muslin chemise.

  Being true to the times, as Iona had requested, Haven hadn’t worn a bra or underwear. A pang of self-consciousness trickled through her all the way to her numb toes. The lure of a clean body and dirt free hair won out. Tossing the chemise over her head, she lowered herself into the chest-deep water and slowly pivoted toward shore.

  “Leave my clothes on that rock over yonder. Drop the soap and towel then scram.” The crook of his mouth, somewhere between a sneer and a smile, made her throat constrict. Her laugh came out weak. They’d been intimate in a darkened tent, but that didn’t mean she’d let him peek at her in broad daylight. His eyes, smile, and tented kilt said he wanted to watch. And more.

  Not yet. Not until he gets me home.

  Kirk laid her clothes on the rocks. His chest expanded as if he’d inhaled a deep breath. Then he strode toward the makeshift camp beyond the trees. Staring at his broad shoulders, tan muscles, and warrior gait, she shook off her silly sex-starved yearnings and recalled the rolled up, crimson gown packed on her horse.

  Iona will kill me.

  Haven had accidently abandoned her duties and ruined a beautiful gown. She wanted to return to the games before they ended, but in her heart she knew she wasn’t eager to return to her drab apartment, the four walls filled with sparse decorations and hand-me-down furniture.

  Time enough to think about all this, later.

  As chilly water cascaded over her matted hair, Haven ran numb fingers through the strands.

  What I wouldn’t give for a comb.

  She waded farther out, but stayed clear of the stronger current. Kicking her feet as she swam to loosen caked dirt from her calves and toes, the cool water made her nipples peak. Winded, she let her feet fall to the bottom.

  Stubbing her toe on the rocky riverbed, she glided into waist-deep water. Standing, Haven wrung excess water from her hair. A prickle ran down her back. She searched the shore.

  Silly. I’m alone. Or am I?

  * * * * *

  Cameron Robeson had never seen anything as glorious as the raven-haired goddess before him, a naked water nymph. She stood close to shore and glowed with an earthy beauty. Strong arms, a trim waist, and breasts to fit a man’s hand made him burn. True, his cousin all but declared she belonged to him, but the two conversed with mutual animosity. Kirk swore he had not slept with her.

  The fool.

  Kirk’s upcoming marriage meant there might be room for Cameron in Lady Haven’s life. He did not perceive her as the type of woman to accept life as Kirk’s mistress no matter how she felt for his cousin.

  Heat flooded his loins and his cock hardened at the sight of her. Her abundant curves topped by rosy nipples twisted his insides. He did his best not to rush into the water, grab her, lay her on the grass, and thrust his rock-hard shaft deep inside her loveliness.

  Her nipples poked toward him, teas
ing him. Darker curls peeked from lower still. She had first joined their party wearing a muddy, blood-splattered gown, yet had carried herself with a regal surety.

  Cameron strove to ignore the tenting of his plaid. His tongue slipped out and wet his lips. A breeze tossed his hair across his face and he swiped away the interference with sweaty fingers, not wanting to miss a moment.

  She stood all alone and within his grasp. All he need do was walk up to her. He was more handsome than his cousin, without the savage scar that marred Kirkwall’s face. As he contemplated his next step, she reached down and grabbed the dry bit of linen, giving him a glimpse of more naked skin beneath the tumble of black silky hair.

  God’s teeth, why must she conspire to make me lame?

  Suddenly aware that others roamed nearby, he cursed. This might be his only opportunity; to talk to her alone; to touch skin as pale as fresh churned buttermilk; to kiss lips as red as summer berries.

  Would she taste as sweet?

  How could she not fall in love with him? He would steal her away from the great Kirkwall Gunn, lift her skirts, and make her his. The cloaked man promised the delectable lady to him for services rendered. Cameron aimed to collect the bonny lass, along with his gold.

  After all, my dear cousin has his betrothed.

  CHAPTER 15

  An eerie chill swept down Haven’s spine. She sensed that someone watched her. She glanced upstream and down. Wrapping the towel around her, she shrugged. The pervert could be lurking beyond the hobbled horses, or in the trees. Anywhere.

  Probably Kirk.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she sang. She might as well embarrass the man into showing himself. Nothing stirred. The soft whinny of horses, the gurgle of the river swirling around her legs, and the breeze through the trees were the only sounds.

  Turning numb from the water’s chill, Haven moved her feet from the water to the moss-covered shore. A stiff breeze had risen, causing tiny goose bumps on her damp skin. She lifted her face in search of the noonday sun. Only fast-moving clouds blotted the sky. After the morning’s oppressive heat, she ought to welcome the clouds. Instead, she shivered then wrapped her arms around her stomach.