His right eye twitched as Simon peered close and tickled the edges of Kincaid’s brain. “You can shield her.”
“I can try. The fix will be temporary and I have to be close to her. But maybe it will give Giles time to find a cure.”
The twitch in his brain expanded as Simon searched for more answers. Not liking the sensation, Kincaid narrowed his shield and shut the man out.
“What are the risks?”
“For Amber? Nothing worse than her immediate death if it doesn’t work.”
Funny how Simon didn’t bother asking what the risk to him was. There wasn’t any guarantee the noise inside Amber’s head wouldn’t transfer to him, destroying them both.
Chapter Eight
Simon consoled his wife while Kincaid moved around to the far side of the bed. He removed the sword strapped to his back and set it beside the table.
“What’s he doing?” Helen asked.
“Trying to help.”
A fish swimming in a round bowl would have had nothing on all the eyes in the room watching him.
He eased his frame to the edge of the bed and felt his weight dip into the mattress. The closer he moved to Amber, the higher his heart rate soared. In times of flight, he’d expand his shield and suck travelers with him into a vortex of time. This was different.
The tight grip on his shield loosened in small degrees. Not because he feared what would happen to him, but his fear of what it might do to her.
Okay Amber MacCoinnich…I’m going to invade your space for a little while. He sighed and expanded the shield again. If he looked hard enough, he could see a shimmering blue light expand from his body and pulsate out as he moved the barrier between him and the world. As the tip of Amber’s finger breached his circle, he felt a tug and noticed the blue rim grip hold of her hand and pull. A small tremor of fear surged over him when he tried to pull back his shield just to see if he could, only to find it unyielding.
Kincaid concentrated on her hand, thought he saw one of her fingers twitch. He placed a hand next to hers and she moved again.
Energy rushed over him and the light of his shield sparked.
Everyone in the room gasped.
When Kincaid let go, the shield he liked to call his own, poured over Amber and molded itself to her frame. It hugged her like a robe, nothing like Kincaid had ever seen before.
Amber’s chest rose and fell in a heavy sigh. When her finger lifted, Kincaid reached out and touched her. The molded shield expanded with his touch and bubbled them both inside.
His heart gave a massive kick in his chest as the unconscious emotions of the woman at his side slid into him. He released an unmanly moan as his head filled with pain. Her pain. Bracing a hand to her side to keep from crushing her, he closed his eyes and attempted to absorb the impact, deflect it…survive it.
His eyeballs were on fire and the flesh on his bones felt as if someone was dripping acid and eating away all rational thought.
How did she survive this?
“Kincaid?” Dread filled Giles’s voice.
He shook his head. “I’m—” he swallowed down bile, felt a wave pass only to return.
“What’s happening?”
Inside Amber’s head, he heard her respond to the distress of Helen’s voice.
“Shh!”
“Is she okay?” Helen franticly asked.
His gut rolled as if he’d been hit with a spiked medieval hammer.
“For God’s sake, woman, shut up,” Kincaid ordered.
As those in the room held their collective breath. The pain slowly eased. He tightened the shield around them and attempted to thicken the barrier. The slow process left him breathless with sweat pooling on his brow.
He opened his eyes and noticed Amber’s hand tighten around his. She hadn’t woken, but he could feel her. Her soft breath washed over his skin with every exhale, her heart stopped its uneven rhythm and found a comfortable pace.
When Kincaid looked to the others in the room, he noted that the sun had started to set, casting long shadows in the room.
“She’s resting now,” he told them.
“Is she okay?” Helen asked.
He felt a kick in his head. It was as if the words triggered something inside of Amber and made her panic.
“She is for now. She needs to rest and heal. Maybe by morning I’ll be able to let go of her hand.”
Giles offered a small smile. “How do you feel?”
“Better than ever,” he lied.
Giles shook his head. “I’ll return to the library. Can I get you anything?”
The old woman pulled herself to her feet and spoke for the first time. “Come, Helen…let’s prepare something to eat for our guest. Have something here for Amber when she wakes.”
The woman’s soothing voice brought a blanket over Amber and filled Kincaid with warmth.
Kincaid offered the woman a smile and was greeted with one in return. He realized then he didn’t know her name.
As if she read his mind she said, “I’m Mrs. Dawson.”
That would make sense, as the Manor was named after the original owner. “A pleasure.”
Mrs. Dawson limped from the room with the use of a cane and followed Helen out.
Simon stood to follow the others. He hesitated at the door and stared down at the both of them. “Let me know when she wakes.”
“I will.”
“The pain inside her…was it…”
Kincaid shook his head. “I don’t know how she survived it.”
Simon swallowed. “I’m one floor down.”
“I’ll call out if we need you.”
He gave a swift nod and closed the door behind him.
Alone with Amber, he stared at her porcelain features and felt a smile on his lips. “You look better in person,” he whispered. Even close to death.
He moved slowly, arranging her hand on his leg while he attempted to pull his fingers from hers. It didn’t work. He lifted one booted foot to their joined hands and tugged it off, kicking it to the floor before reaching for the other. Once he managed to take off his boots, he stood while holding her hand and removed the weapon on his hip, set it on the nightstand.
Having a beautiful woman beside him in bed was never a hardship, but an unconscious one he couldn’t let go of proved more awkward than any encounter he’d ever had.
As he moved around the bed, he felt her anxiety rise. It was as if she worried he would leave and the full force of the pain would return. Kincaid maneuvered himself with his back against the headboard. The bed wasn’t large enough for him to lay there and not touch more than her hand. Their clasped hands had two choices. They could lay on his thigh or her chest.
He rested them against her first, felt the swell of her breast, and groaned.
Not a good choice.
He rested their hands on his thigh. That was marginally better.
“Well, Amber MacCoinnich…when you wake up try not to freak out too hard.” He looked down at her innocent face. “Something tells me you’ve never had a man in your bed.”
The thought made him smile and inch closer. He would reflect on why the thought empowered him later, for now he’d just try to thicken the barrier around them and sift through the jumbled pain inside her head and rid her of it.
After an hour inside her head, he felt the emotions of those closest to them swimming on a thin surface, but those from outside the walls of the house were gone. The blue barrier around them was so thick he doubted a bolt of lightning could penetrate it.
At some point, Helen slipped into the room and set a tray of food by the bed. Kincaid felt her concern and he did his best to shield the emotions from the sleeping woman on his side. Before Helen could say a thing, he brought a finger to his lips. “Shh.”
Helen blinked a few times and quietly left the room.
He clicked off the light and slid down in the bed. He rolled to his side and switched hands. He rested his arm over Amber’s waist, realizing again h
ow thin she was. Too thin.
Kincaid closed his eyes on the pillow beside her and felt her push against him to get closer.
He continued to sift through her thoughts until his brain reached its own limit and needed to rest.
Somewhere in the night, he woke long enough to realize Amber shifted in her sleep. She had his arm grasped to her side and had rolled over, offering him her backside.
Without a doubt, when she woke and realized she was spooning with a stranger, she’d freak. But right now, Kincaid didn’t care. He ignored his rising hormones, calling himself all kinds of names for being turned on by a woman who was near-death, and he forced himself to go back to sleep.
****
If Amber knew death would be this warm, this welcoming, she would have let herself go long before now.
The cloud she floated on surrounded her, blocked out all the pain, and left her strangely hungry. Even that was a welcome relief. She’d not felt the need to eat in so long she’d forgotten the feeling. Sleep overshadowed everything, however. The ability to rest without interruption was heaven. Maybe that’s what her reward was for such a burdened life. Sleep and hunger, the things she couldn’t enjoy in her failing body.
Her last thought before leaving her body was that she died before returning home. Without the crushing pain clouding her thoughts, she was thankful her time came before plaguing her family with her death. This way they might think she lived a good long life.
She snuggled into her cloud and drifted off to sleep again.
Then her stomach rumbled, loud and unrelenting.
The cloud moved behind her and grasped her hip.
That can’t be right.
Amber forced her eyes open, fearful the pain would return. Her room was before her just as it had been when she was alive. The sun reached its morning rays into her room and asked her to wake.
The unfamiliar feeling of being alone made her close her eyes again. The pain in her head wasn’t there. The voices of others…gone. A deep voice, one she’d never heard before, chanted one word. Sleep.
Her head started to follow the soft chant and then the bed dipped behind her.
Amber’s eyes sprung open, and she slowly turned her head.
Behind her…no, pressed up against her with his arm draped over her clasping her tightly was a dark stranger.
Oh, God. Panic, always close to the surface, bubbled inside her.
The stranger opened his eyes, his piercing gaze met hers, and Amber screamed.
She scrambled to the other side of the bed only to find herself trapped by the large man’s iron-grip.
“Calm down.”
She kicked, yelled, and pushed against him as he pinned her to the bed, his body unwilling to let her go. Amber pulled in the energy of the room and added heat to her hands as she shoved.
The man cursed and clasped her hands to prevent her from burning more of his skin. “Dammit, Amber hold still.”
The door to the room flew open. Amber twisted on the bed, saw Simon, and yelled for him to help her.
“What’s going on?” Simon asked but made no effort to remove the man who crushed her to the bed.
“She woke up.”
Amber attempted more kicks, found her legs pinned beneath her captor. “Get him off me,” she pleaded with Simon. Why was he not helping her? Her foot connected with the man’s shin.
He rolled on top of her, full on now and pinned her hands above her head. “Enough!” he yelled at her.
Stunned, she stopped moving. No one…and she meant no one, ever yelled at her.
Her chest rose and fell with his. They both panted and stared into each other’s eyes. He was angry, that she knew by the fierce look on his face and perhaps the small steam that seemed to be bouncing off him. Blue steam that rolled off him like an aura.
“Talk to her, Simon. Tell her what’s going on.”
“Amber, listen to me, lass.”
“Get him off of me, Simon.”
Simon knelt down by the bed but still didn’t push the stranger away.
She struggled again only to feel the man’s knee slip between hers. Panic crawled up her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“He’s here to help, Amber. He’s holding the emotions of others away. Can’t you feel it?”
Amber heard Helen gasp.
She looked toward the door to find Helen and Giles standing there. Amber hadn’t felt them coming. Deep inside she reached for the emotions of the others in the room and only felt one. The man holding her down.
“Don’t look for trouble. It’s taken hours to thicken the barrier. If you push against it, it might not hold,” the stranger told her.
“How do you know I’m pushing?”
“Because we’re linked.”
“Linked?”
He nodded, his breath swept hot over her. “Don’t panic.” He winced as if her worry wounded him.
He lowered one of her hands in his and brought it up to her eyes. “Do you see the light?”
Blue light glistened.
“What is it?”
“My shield. It’s keeping out everyone’s thoughts but ours.”
“He speaks the truth, lass,” Simon assured her.
Amber stared into the dark brown eyes of the stranger in her bed. She forced her breaths to slow down and took him in. He wore a small amount of hair on his face in a way that flattered his strong jaw without hiding it. His broad shoulders and thick arms reminded her of the men of her time. Even though he was draped over her like a thick blanket, he wasn’t hurting her. It was as if he was holding himself above her without placing all his weight. It was strangely comforting…like the dream of being folded in a cloud. A strong, heavily muscled cloud that smelled of spice and man.
No smile reached his lips, but she noticed his eyes spark with mischief. Then, without any warning she knew on a deep level he felt every curve of her body and was keenly aware of the minimal clothing she wore.
When her cheeks warmed, the man holding her smiled. The effect devastated her. She’d never felt desire for a man before and was mortified the man holding her was aware of her thoughts.
“I’m going to move off of you now, Amber. Don’t run away.”
“Why?”
He lifted their clasped hands again. “Because I don’t know if I can keep everything out if you let go.”
“Truly?” Her palm in his warmed.
He lifted an eyebrow. “One thing at a time.”
He shifted his weight, rolled to the side, but kept one hand in hers at all times.
She used her free hand to pull down her nightgown that had inched up in her struggles, and pushed the majority of her body as far away from the man in her bed as possible.
“How are you feeling?” Helen asked.
“Confused.”
“That’s to be expected. Waking up next to a strange man in your bed has to be a first for you.”
“Waking up next to any man is a first.” She lifted her chin and stared at the man holding her hand. “Who are you?”
“The name’s Kincaid.”
Her eyes narrowed as another name popped in her head. “Your name is Gavin.”
From the door, Giles chuckled. “You’re quite right, m’lady. It is Gavin but no one dares call him that. Gavin Kincaid prefers the use of his last name only.”
“Is that so?”
She tried to read the man’s mind but found it difficult.
“I go by Kincaid.” The smirk on his face unsettled her and made her want to challenge him. After all, he’d slept next to her, yelled at her, and forcefully restrained her before she even knew his name.
“Well, Gavin…” The smirk on his face grew when she used his given name. “How is it you came to be in my bed?”
Before he could explain himself, Simon and Helen told the story as to how Gavin Kincaid had searched for Giles and ended up traveling to their time. Helen launched into finding Amber near death on the bathroom floor, how they needed to do som
ething, and quickly, if Amber was going to survive.
While the tale was told, the hand holding hers grew warm. A shiver ran up her arm as if Gavin ran a hand along her skin. Was that a result of his thoughts about her, or her own wishes? How much of her thoughts could he read? And why was it so difficult to read his clearly?
“You have questions.” He told her, interrupting Helen’s story.
“Can you read my thoughts?”
“Not word for word.”
That’s a relief.
“But I sense your feelings stronger than you’d like.” There his smirk was again.
She tugged at her hand but he didn’t let her go.
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” He gripped her fingers.
“I don’t want you in my head.”
“Do you want the thousands who were in there before, instead of me? Am I that distasteful to you, Lady MacCoinnich?”
“I feel your advantage over me, Gavin Kincaid.” And I don’t like it!
His eyes fell down her lithe frame. “The mouse holds an advantage over you.”
Giles cleared his throat. “Show some respect, Kincaid. She is a MacCoinnich.”
“Respect runs both ways, Giles. This MacCoinnich would be dead if I hadn’t intervened. Seems all she wants to do is run away and break every effort I’ve made to keep her alive.”
Amber huffed an exasperated breath. “Sleeping next to a woman is a hardship for you, Gavin?”
He leaned forward, much too close for her comfort and lowered his voice. “The women I sleep next to don’t try and run away when they wake, m’lady…quite the opposite.”
Beside them, Simon heard the exchange and lunged toward Kincaid.
Amber felt, more than saw, the blue shield around them expand and Simon bounced off the force field and hit the floor. His contact with the shield brought a wave of pain over her, an instant reminder of the crushing agony she’d been in only yesterday.
The hand in hers squeezed.
Simon took to his feet and approached again.
“Stop!” Gavin ordered.
“Please, Simon…don’t.”
“Apologize to the lady!” Simon demanded.
The words didn’t come quickly, but Amber knew Gavin wasn’t happy with his actions. She had baited him, and needed to carry some of the blame for Simon’s need to protect her. “My apologies, Amber.”
Highland Protector (MacCoinnich Time Travels Book Five) Page 7