Passion of a Scottish Warrior (The MacLomain Series: Later Years Book 4)

by Sky Purington

  Which made her sick to her stomach.

  Not because of Darach, of course. He seemed to be the only saving grace in what might be a very dark history.

  “I need to process this,” she whispered, trying to ignore the numbness. “I need time alone.”

  “Aye.” Grant nodded. “There are small caves nearby. As long as you stay in one of them, you’ll be safe.” His eyes went to Rònan and Erin. “You two go with her.”

  “I will as well,” Darach said.

  “Nay.” Grant shook his head. “We need to talk.”

  “Och,” Darach muttered and frowned before his eyes met hers. “Will you be all right, lass?”

  “I have no idea,” she murmured. When she stood, Nicole did as well.

  “I want to come with you guys too.” Her eyes pleaded with Jackie’s. “Please? I need to know you’re okay.”

  “I am,” she assured, and though she couldn’t feel a thing, she squeezed Nicole’s hand. “I know you’re worried about me. I’ll be okay. I swear. I just need some alone time.”

  “You’re not okay in the least.” Nicole’s eyes grew moist. “Why didn’t you tell us you were so sick?”

  “Because,” Jackie started and shook her head, wondering how much she should say. But the look in Nicole’s eyes tugged at her heartstrings. “Because I didn’t want you to feel like this. I didn’t want you to be sad. I wanted things to stay normal between all of us before our disabilities changed everything.”

  “But you’re not facing a mere disability,” Nicole whispered.

  “There’s nothing mere about any of your disabilities,” Jackie argued but kept the distress out of her voice. “Right now, I’m all right. So let’s just take things one day at a time, okay? Please don’t treat me differently. That’s the last thing I want.”

  Nicole searched her eyes for a long moment before she muttered, “Fuck,” under her breath and wiped away a tear. Her eyes shot to the sleeping boys. “I mean fudge.” She released a heavy sigh and pulled Jackie in for a hug, murmuring, “Okay, I get it. No special treatment.”

  Jackie closed her eyes and tried to ignore that she couldn’t feel Nicole at all. Thankfully, Erin hooked arms with her as they walked away. She might not be able to feel her best friend, but something about her presence bolstered her strength. And, believe it or not, that helped her work through her numbness.

  They didn’t go too far before Rònan led them down a narrow hallway into a small cave. Only a small waterfall caused by rain runoff spilled down the rock in the corner but kept going into some unseen outlet so the cave remained dry. He dropped an armful of wood in the center, flicked his wrist, and a fire ignited.

  His eyes met Erin’s, and he nodded before leaving. She knew he wouldn’t go far. He would never travel far from Erin if he didn’t have to.

  Erin pulled a blanket out of her satchel and laid it on a patch of grass before she gestured for Jackie to sit next to her. She said nothing at first but wrapped her arm around Jackie and urged her to rest her head on her shoulder. She didn’t cry. Not really. Maybe an errant tear because she was so sad…and scared.

  After a good ten minutes, Erin finally spoke. As Jackie knew she would, her friend cut to the chase. “Well, everything’s out in the open now. Not just your illness but shit you didn’t anticipate. The way I see it, only one question remains. And it’s a damn important one.”

  Jackie sat back. “What’s that?”

  Erin met her eyes. “What are your feelings toward Darach now?”

  “The same as they’ve always been.” Jackie focused on the fire. “I like him.”

  “Uh huh.” She knew Erin’s eyes remained on her face. “You just ‘like’ him then. Nothing more?”

  “I don’t know him well enough to feel anything more.”

  “You’re bullshitting me.” Erin nudged her shoulder. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you were less than honest with me when we spoke earlier.”

  Jackie shook her head and kept her eyes on the fire.

  “Hey,” Erin said. “Look at me already and tell me you were straight with me about him earlier. I wanna see the truth in your eyes.”

  Knowing full well she wasn’t getting out of this, her eyes met Erin’s. “There’s something that happens between me and Darach that doesn’t happen with Heidrek. A strange sort of compulsion.”

  “Compulsion?” Erin’s eyes perked. “Like he enchants you?”

  “Kind of.” Exactly. “It’s intense. Different. More than simple attraction. I haven’t felt anything like it before so I assumed it was because he’s a wizard.” She shook her head. “Now I know it might be because…” she cleared her throat, “because we might have lived another life together.”

  “You mean, been in love before.”

  “I mean lived another life,” she reiterated. “Besides, Heidrek is still a possibility.”

  “Actually, I don’t think he is.” Erin shook her head. “It seems he’s not pursuing you anymore.”

  Jackie ignored the sense of relief she felt. She cared about Heidrek, but sparks didn’t fly with him like they should. “What do you mean?”

  Purple flared in Erin’s eyes. The dragon sensed Jackie's reaction. “I’m glad to know you’re not crushed.” She shrugged. “Apparently, he feels that he’s connected to one of my relatives.”

  “One of your relatives?” Jackie frowned in confusion. “But you don’t have any…that are blood-related anyway.”

  “I know. It’s weird. And I tried to tell him that,” Erin said. “No blood relatives so no possible dragon-shifters in the family.”

  “Strange,” Jackie murmured. “So could he be talking about the cousins you moved in with after your dad died? Friends of the family. Maybe he’s not interested in dragon-shifters in the least.”

  “Oh, he’s all about the dragon blood,” Erin assured. “Or so it seems.” She cocked a grin at Jackie. “You’ve met a few of my cousins. Can you imagine any of them being half-dragon? Comical. Especially the two I put up with the most. With the one, it’d be like throwing fireworks on flame. With the other, introducing a psycho to sanity.”

  “You must be talking about Cybil and Samantha.” Jackie chuckled. “Samantha was excitable and always causing havoc. And Cybil was the endless dare-devil who put you to shame when you were kids. You had a few other cousins too,” she reminded. “Big family.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me. I can’t believe my Dad’s best friend had five daughters.” She shook her head. “Insanity nowadays…or in our day that is.”

  “Your dad's best friend. AKA, your uncle.”

  “Fine, my uncle,” Erin relented. “And Cybil didn’t put me to shame,” Erin groused. “I kicked her ass repeatedly.”

  “That’s not how I hear it.” Jackie grinned. “Sounds like she won a lot of competitions between you and…”

  “All right, buzz kill,” Erin interrupted. “Enough about Cybil. She’s part of my past.” Her friend eyed her. “And right now, we’re talking about your present.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “But we are,” Erin said. “Things might not be as bad as you think. When I first met the demi-god, he tried to tell me that we were meant to be together too. So don’t overthink the whole soulmate, lived-another-life-together-thing.” Her eyes held Jackie’s. “The guy’s an evil dirt bag. He’ll say anything to get a hold of one of the rings.”

  “True,” she relented. “But I had such a strong sense of familiarity. The same feeling I had when I first saw Darach.”

  “I felt that way with the demi-god, and now we know why. Maybe he’s pulling the same sort of trick on you. Maybe he visited you in your past, and you just don’t remember.”

  “Maybe,” she started, but her words faded away when Darach ducked in out of the rain.

  It felt like the cave became a million times smaller.

  Erin’s eyes flickered from Darach to Jackie. “Why don’t we finish this conversation later?”

  “What?” Jackie sa
id within the mind. “No, wait.”

  But it was too late. Erin was gone, and Darach plunked down beside her. Though tempted to bolt, she was made of stronger stuff than that. They needed to talk...to make sense of things. Yet despite her best intentions to remain calm, he had a way of making her heart race.

  Yet she didn’t go numb.

  He handed her a skin. “I brought water.”

  “Thanks.” She took a swig, grateful for anything that delayed the inevitable. He eyed the fire with a firm set to his jaw as though debating how to handle the conversation.

  “Any chance you brought whisky too?” she said.

  His eyes met hers. “Aye?”

  “Yes.” She offered a small shrug and a half smile. “I wasn’t going to drink anymore, but a sip or two might help calm my nerves. It’s be a rough day.”

  “Aye,” he agreed as he pulled a skin out of his satchel and handed it to her. “But something tells me ‘twill not be as hard as days to come.”

  “I think you’re right.” She took a sip before handing it back. “Again, I should have told you and Heidrek about my nightmare at the Highland Defiance right away. It might’ve helped somehow.”

  “No need to be sorry. I should have told you I was part of your nightmare too.” Darach sighed. “Trust me, I’m more at fault considering I ken magic. I knew it was unusual. I just…”

  When he trailed off, she said, “What?”

  Darach’s eyes slid to hers, looking somewhat guilty. “My reasons for not sharing earlier arenae exactly admirable.”

  “No?” she said, grateful she didn’t sound half as breathless as she felt. If she intended to keep him at arm’s length, she needed to stop being flustered by simple conversations.

  “Nay.” He shook his head, brogue thickening. “Somehow I saved ye in the Otherworld. When I did, it became something we shared even if you didnae know I was there.” He shrugged. “’Twas a connection betwixt us. Something I had over Heidrek.”

  “Ah,” she murmured, heat warming her skin at his possessive tone.

  “Something’s been weighing on my mind,” she said. “I was going to speak to you earlier about it, but I was trying to get over the shock of learning I could resurrect. And of course dealing with the fact that if someone loves me, they die.”

  “’Tis a lot to try to come to grips with,” he agreed.

  “It certainly is.” She eyed her ring. “Anyway, I've been mulling over what you told me at the Defiance about this ring. I should have reacted differently. Been more thankful.” Her eyes met his. “You were trying to act as some kind of decoy, right? That's why you avoided me...and why you pushed me toward Heidrek?”

  He nodded. “’Tis all right, lass. You were trying to ken a lot. But aye, I did my best to stay away from you and keep all of the attention on myself.” His eyes went to the fire. “That’s why I never should have kissed you. It might’ve caused the demi-god to take a greater interest in you. And that might have proven the end of everything.”

  “How so?”

  His eyes returned to hers, emotion evident. “Because I would have given him the ring to keep you safe.”

  “No,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes from his as she shook her head. “You would have done the right thing. You would've protected the ring and Robert before anything else.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he murmured. “At first, I thought mayhap I was strong enough. That I would do what was right no matter what.” He shook his head. “But I’ve never been so wrong. If all the dreams werenae enough, every glimpse I caught of you in Scandinavia and Scotland only made things worse.” His brogue thickened. “Lass, I loved ye before I even met ye. Now that I have, the feeling has only grown stronger.”

  Her heart leapt into her throat. He could not love her. Not if what Grant said was true. She wouldn’t allow it.

  Before she could respond, he said, “I think that’s why the real ring ended up back on your finger. Brigit must have realized things werenae going according to plan.”

  “This is crazy.” Her eyes dropped to the ring. It looked the same as it always had. “Dreams aren’t real. So you don’t really know me. That means you can’t love me, Darach.” Her eyes went to his. “What if your Dad’s right about me? Do you want to die? What good would that do anyone?” She shook her head. “It would hurt everyone who loves you and those you’re determined to protect.”

  “I dinnae care about dying. Now that the ring has returned to your finger I intend to protect the lass who wears it. Therefore, protecting the king. The only difference between my cousins and me is I already know where my heart lies. They didn’t. ” Darach’s brows drew together. “This isnae something I can merely stop feeling because I wish it.”

  Jackie had no idea how to respond to that except to make him see logic. Anything to keep him away. She held up her hand. “Its stone doesn’t glow your eye color. That’s kind of telling, don’t you think?”

  “I think like all the rings before it, ‘tis fickle and will glow when ‘tis ready.” His eyes narrowed. “But I can promise you this. No bloody ring will change the way I feel.”

  Yet she saw trouble flicker in his eyes. Not self-doubt but something else.

  “So it seems both you and the demi-god dislike the ring,” she murmured.

  When he clenched his jaw, she knew her statement explained his troubled look.

  “What is it?” she said.

  Darach arched his brow in question.

  “Is there something else about this ring I should know?” She frowned. “Something you’re not telling me?”

  “Nay.” He shook his head. “Nothing more than my dislike for its control over so much.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “These rings have found my friends some amazing men. Supportive guys who love them. That’s pretty impressive.”

  “Aye,” he agreed. “And I’m happy for them.” His eyes searched hers. “But they need naught be the only ones to find such love, Jackie. Such support.”

  “It can’t happen between us, Darach,” she reiterated as her chest tightened.

  His hand slid into hers. “Because you’re dying?”

  “Yes,” she breathed and tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let go. “Another thing I should have shared earlier. I should’ve told both you and Heidrek that from the beginning.” She cursed the tremor that rippled through her. “And now that I know whoever loves me will die as well, it’s a definite that no guy’s getting close to me.”

  “’Tis too late,” he said softly. “I’m already close to you.”

  When she started to shake her head, he cupped her cheek and locked eyes with hers. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Jackie.” He cupped her other cheek. “Nobody can change that. Not an evil demi-god. Not even your own denial.”

  She licked her lips, shocked when she didn’t go numb as fear ripped through her. Amazed that she could still feel him.

  Pull away. Don’t let this happen. He’ll die.

  “You think you love me,” she whispered. “But you don’t know me…at least not in this life.”

  All her good intentions became a distant whisper of warning when he closed his mouth over hers. Possible reincarnation meant nothing as their lips parted and his tongue met hers. As it had been at the Highland Defiance then in the small glade, she suddenly felt as though she were outside herself.

  As if she drifted in another place.

  Nothing about the way they came together made sense, but she still wanted more. So much more. He called it love. She called it lust. Because what else could it be? A heavy need blossomed between her thighs. A driving desire that had her digging her nails into his forearms and moaning when an intense ache spread through her body.

  “Lust not love. No love,” she half whispered, half murmured over and over when he brought her to the ground and ran his lips down her neck. She tried to push him away, but it was a weak effort as his hands began stroking everywhere. Clothing didn
’t seem to matter in the least.

  “Oh, God,” she mouthed, but nothing came out as he seemed to measure her body in ways no other man had. She bit the corner of her lip when he stroked, cupped, massaged, pinched, then kissed his way over her breasts, worshiping them so thoroughly he had her groaning.

  All the while, his hands were on her waist, circling, pressing, searching in an erotic fashion that had her squirming. It was as if a dozen hands touched her at once. When she peered down, she realized he must be using magic. Manipulating the air. Because his hands weren’t everywhere that she felt sensation.

  “What?” she gasped before his lips closed over hers again and his whispered words blew through her mind.

  “I cannae help it, lass. Ye have a way of drawing out my magic.”

  Magic he probably shouldn't be using. "Oh!” She arched against him as pressure built everywhere. Her arms, neck, chest and lower back. Outer thighs. Ass. Inner thighs.

  Then upward.

  Closer.

  So close to where she needed it most.

  Teasing.

  Tempting.

  “Don’t love me,” she managed to rasp before his lips again closed over hers, and all good reason fled. Gone. Lost. Completely vanished. He tasted like warm sugary male. He smelled like every good memory she’d ever had.

  Somewhere way, way in the back of her mind she knew she was putting him in harm’s way.

  That this was wrong.

  Harmful.

  Lethal.

  Yet their lips pressed tighter, eager to fit more securely, determined to somehow meld. Their tongues tangled and lapped and sought. Desperate, they struggled to get closer as they tore at each other’s clothes. She was so caught up in passion it never occurred to her that she no longer laid on a scratchy blanket but soft, warm grass.

  Stop now, she preached to herself. Nothing good can come of this.

  But nothing connected as she felt him against her.

  Over her.

  Pressing down.

  His arousal.