She spoke at last, and now she sounded considering rather than angry. “Pengorren is not a man you will defeat easily, my Raven. Yes, you have courage and daring, but it will need more than that. Patience, consideration, planning. Do you understand at last? Will you listen to me now? Or must I take away your chance to rewrite your history?”
“Please, don’t do that. I understand…”
“Then do not travel through time again without my permission. I will not allow it. As it is, you have made changes that will affect your sister’s life, although fortunately they are minor in comparison to the harm Pengorren has wrought.”
“What do you mean? What will happen to Sophie?”
“You have compounded her misery,” the queen replied. “She believes your ghost is haunting her, seeking retribution because of what she did. After her son is born she loses her mind completely and is locked away in a prison for the insane. You see what your interference has done?”
“Oh dear God.” Sophie, in one of those dreadful places. He could hardly bear it, felt sick and furious at the thought that he had caused this. “I’m sorry,” he whispered wretchedly.
Melanie’s warm hand squeezed his arm. “We will fix it,” she murmured for him alone.
“How?” he said bitterly, and shook his head. “I wish I had killed him the first time I saw him instead of making him my friend.”
At that moment Teth appeared, bounding up to the queen and wagging his tail. She gave the hound a fond look. “Ah, Teth, there you are. Nathaniel, I gave you Teth as your companion because he wishes to attain a higher level, and I thought you would be a good teacher. Was I mistaken? Will you trick him and lead him astray again?”
Nathaniel tried to concentrate. “No, I won’t do that.” A quick glance at Teth showed a suspiciously innocent expression in the black hound’s eyes. “I’ll certainly be more respectful of Teth’s abilities in the future, Your Majesty.”
The queen smiled her cold smile. “One day, when I think he’s ready, Teth will become a mortal.”
The black whiskery face beamed.
“I look forward to it,” Nathaniel murmured.
“As you have Neptune, I will allow you to keep him in the present. For now. Once you have completed your task, he can return with you to the past. But if you fail, he will fail with you.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
She sighed. “Now I will return you to the present, where you are meant to be. This is your last warning, my Raven.”
Hastily, Melanie cleared her throat. “Your Majesty, Pengorren was wearing something he called a key to time. What is it? How does it help him? He said I didn’t need one to travel. How can that be?”
The queen gave an impatient sigh, tapping one of her talons on the ground. “So many questions, mortal.”
“But how else are we to defeat him if we don’t understand?”
“I am not here to do your task for you.”
Nathaniel realized that her cloak was turning into feathers and the feathers into wings. “Pengorren isn’t a mortal,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. “He’s like you.”
“No one is like me,” she shrieked. In the next breath she changed into an eagle, soaring past him. At the same time Neptune came out of his unnatural calm and rose up onto his back legs with a shrill scream. Nathaniel lurched forward to grasp his bridle.
The air fizzed and spluttered, and was split asunder as time shifted. It was no longer summer and the night was no longer still. As she had said she would, the queen had jumped them forward into the present, into the full raging force of the spring storm.
Melanie felt her body stretching, as if her essence was being pulled violently, and then there was a popping sound in her ears and the two—body and essence—reconnected. She was whole again, but she wasn’t inside Ravenswood; she was here, with Nathaniel, on Neptune.
Lightning splintered the sky, followed instantly by the deafening growl of thunder. The rain was at their backs and the storm directly overhead. It was deafening. Neptune snorted, trying to outrun his own terror, but Nathaniel held him just on the verge of bolting, using all of his skill to keep them safe as they pounded their way toward Ravenswood.
“This is madness!” cried Melanie. “We must be crazy!”
But it was an exhilarating sort of craziness. Adrenaline was pumping through her, and she hardly felt the cold bite of the rain. The horse quivered as another bolt of lightning lit the sky, but Nathaniel held him. He was strong and in control and unafraid. Melanie had never known a man like him.
Ravenswood was visible through the rain, dark and brooding against the threatening sky. Melanie could see the trees in the park waving wildly as the gusting winds ripped through them. They passed Eddie’s grey cottage, huddled in the pounding rain, and she thought she saw his white face through one of the upper windows.
The vegetable garden was flattened, the overgrown plants a sodden mess…
Suddenly there was a terrible rending, like someone in agony. Melanie jerked up her head and saw it through the rain. Rippling like a tidal surge, through the trees in the park, one of the biggest, oldest trees had been struck by lightning and now it was falling. Crashing down. And because of its sheer size, it was taking others with it.
The noise was horrendous. The earth shook.
Melanie stared numbly. It was happening just as she’d known it would, and nothing she’d done to try and ignore it, or lock it out, had made the slightest bit of difference.
They reached the safety of Ravenswood and Nathaniel was off his horse, reaching up for her, rain dripping into his eyes and running down his face. His teeth flashed white as he grinned; he was enjoying every moment.
She wanted to hit him again, she wanted to scream at him, and at the same time she wanted to grab him and never let him go. She’d never felt so confused in her life.
“Melanie,” he said, his hands heavy and warm on her shoulders.
She rubbed a hand over her eyes, and then she put both hands over them, as if to hide herself from him. With surprise he realized she was crying—Melanie, the strong and the stubborn—and didn’t want him to see.
“Melanie,” he whispered, “I know it’s difficult to trust me again, after what just happened, but you must believe me. I won’t let him hurt you. Word of a Raven. I know what he’s capable of now, and I’ll be ready. Whatever the cost to myself, I will not allow Pengorren to harm you.”
“Don’t,” she gasped. “You need to get back to the past to save your family. I don’t expect you to put me first, Nathaniel, I don’t want that. We’re working together, remember? If we work together, then maybe we’ll be strong enough to defeat him. Isn’t that the whole point?”
He slid his arms around her and she didn’t even resist. She relaxed into him. It felt so perfect, so right. As if she belonged there. “You saved my life,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
For a moment he just held her, soothing her shivers, murmuring words that made no sense. He could feel her warm breath against his wet shirt and the wetter skin beneath, and despite the situation they were in it felt amazingly sensual. But she was cold, and in the end he held her gently away, and said, “You need to go inside.”
“What about you?” Even when she’d been crying her eyes were a striking blue.
“I’ll see to Neptune. I examined the stable earlier when I was searching for Pengorren’s portrait, and it looked as if it had been repaired not very long ago. He’ll be warm and safe in there.”
“The tree,” she blurted out, giving another violent shiver. “I knew it was going to fall. And I found you, Nathaniel. Twice! I traveled through time and found you. Whatever is inside me is…is opening up. All these years I’ve kept it locked down, and now it’s as if I can’t hold it any more. It’s got too strong for me.”
“Melanie…”
Nathaniel bent his head and gave her a quick, hard kiss, as if he wanted to comfort her and brand her at the same time. Then his mouth gentled, and he he
ld her away, leaning his forehead against hers so that he could remain connected to her as he spoke. “You know I want you.” It wasn’t a question.
Her breath was warm on his lips. “I want you, too,” she said.
He kissed her again, he couldn’t help it. “We’ll come through this,” he said firmly, and at this moment he believed it. Believed in himself. “Now go inside.” His fingers slid over her wet hair, tucking it tenderly behind her ears.
She managed a smile. “Don’t be long,” she said, and gave him a look he could hardly mistake.
Nathaniel grinned as he turned away. Neptune was too weary to be much trouble, and he led the stallion around to the stable. He glanced back over his shoulder, watching as Melanie climbed the stairs to the front door. She was remarkable. She had saved his life. They had cheated Pengorren, and they were both alive—a sense of elation filled him—and just now it was enough.
Twenty-one
Melanie stepped inside the gloomy entry hall and the door shut hollowly behind her. She was freezing. Hugging herself, she ran shivering up the staircase, pausing briefly to glance at Nathaniel’s portrait. Her lips twitched at the sight of him—the Gentleman of the Manor. Was that what he would have been if Pengorren hadn’t come along?
Pengorren, he was like the rotten core in the apple.
Melanie reached the landing, her shoes squelching, and headed for the bathroom. With a prayer and cold, shaking hands, she turned on the hot water and almost sobbed with gratitude when steam began to pour into the big, chilly room. Stumbling, cursing, she peeled off her wet clothing and dumped it on the floor, stepped into the bath, and sank into rising water.
The water was only up to her hips, and her top half was still goose-bumped. She shivered, sliding down farther into the bath, trying to get warm. The combination of running water and the clanging of the old pipes was thunderous. The room was filling with so much steam, she could hardly see in front of her, but she didn’t care.
Nothing could be worse than what she’d seen over the past days. Pengorren had found her, somehow, after all these years, he had tracked her down, and now it felt as if she would never escape him.
He came out of the steam like a ghost out of mist and Melanie shrieked, and then covered her mouth, her eyes enormous above her hands.
“Don’t do that!” she gasped. “Don’t you do that!”
“I’m sorry.” Nathaniel hesitated, and then he sat down on the edge of the big old bath. “I was worried. When I got back, you’d disappeared. I heard the water running.” He quirked an eyebrow at her, but wisely he kept his eyes fastened on hers. “What was I to think?”
“That I was cold? That I needed a bath?” Melanie wrapped her arms about her breasts and slunk down farther into the water. It was deeper now but still not deep enough. She wanted to sink under it completely and vanish, and take her troubles with her.
She felt his hand on her hair and looked up. He brushed the wet strands off her brow, gently, as if she was made of glass. Then he bent and kissed her warm, damp skin.
“Are you really here this time?”
“What do you think?”
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
Her heart began to thud.
“Nathaniel?”
“Hmm?” He pressed tiny, comforting kisses over her temple, across her cheekbone, moving with leisurely pace toward her mouth.
She could have stopped him at any time, but he was warm and real, and Melanie heard herself make a little sound of need. His lips caressed, moving over hers. For a moment the image of Pengorren flashed into her mind, but it was so far removed from Nathaniel and what she was feeling now, that it did not affect her, and she simply shut it out.
“You’re wet, too,” she said, drawing slightly away from him. “Aren’t you cold?”
He met the look she gave him from under her lashes and smiled slowly. “Frozen,” he assured her. “Do you mind…?”
“Be my guest.”
They were very polite, but their eyes, their mouths, were saying other more urgent things. His shirt was so wet it was transparent, outlining the curves and ridges of bone and muscle. He pulled it over his head, and Melanie reached out to touch him, trailing her fingers over his shoulders and chest and upper arms. His leanness was deceptive—he was all hard muscle. He pulled off his boots and tossed them across the bathroom, and then stood up and began to unbutton his breeches.
Melanie leaned back in the water, watching him through her lashes. She felt decadent, lying here naked, wanting him. Because she did want Nathaniel Raven, and for once in her life she wasn’t going to deny herself just because she feared the consequences. Things had gone beyond that. They had experienced some dangerous and intense moments together; they had faced a common and deadly enemy. Who knew what the next hour would bring, let alone tomorrow.
Nathaniel wanted her, too.
The evidence was there as he wrapped his hands around her upper arms and lifted her body up against his, slowly, every inch sliding and touching. Water trickled over her flushed skin, glistening. She smelled the musky scent of him, felt his erection hard and exciting against her. Her breasts ached as they brushed against the hair on his chest, and she heard her own breathing quicken. She’d never been this hot for a man before, not like this. She wanted to twine herself around him, touch…no, lick, every inch of him.
His mouth, she couldn’t get enough of his mouth. She clung around his neck, tugging his hair between her fingers. The dark ribbon slipped off, and she raked her fingers through the smooth shoulder-length strands.
They stood together in the bath, and their bodies moved together. He was exactly how she liked a man to be—she’d known that from the start—and she felt completely female, as if she could be as wild and wanton as she liked, and he would understand. He would accept her for what she was.
Nathaniel wound a short lock of her own fair hair around his fist, tilting her head up to his. His eyes were more gold than hazel, and his dark hair swung down to frame his handsome face as he gazed down at her intently. “You do want me,” he said, and it was a growl of satisfaction. And then he claimed her mouth again.
Melanie lifted her thigh, pressing the sensitive inner skin along the hard muscle of his, trying to get closer. She was hot, burning up, aching with need. It felt good as he gripped her, lifted her, and pressed her to the cold tiles on the wall. She gasped as her hot skin came in contact with the chill tiles, and then gasped again as he leaned his body in on her, his skin setting her on fire. He was cupping her bottom with his hands, stroking her, caressing her. And all the while he kept kissing her mouth.
And his mouth was hot. Nathaniel Raven was hot.
He lowered his head, and she felt his tongue on her throat, and then his mouth again, kissing, sucking. Melanie arched back, moaning softly, and felt his mouth against her breasts. He ran his tongue across the upper swell of one and then the other, and then he was covering her nipple with his mouth, sucking, rolling it with his tongue, tugging it with his teeth.
Melanie purred in her throat.
She clasped him with her thighs, and his erection pressed against the swollen folds between her legs. She wanted him inside her. She knew she had to have him inside her, completely. Melanie tilted her hips forward and felt him enter her that first little bit.
It was sensual heaven.
He groaned against her neck and reached down to adjust her thighs around his hips, but she realized he was holding back, keeping her prisoner between his body and the tiled wall, but not letting her end it. When he lifted his head she couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth. She leaned forward and took his bottom lip between her teeth, biting down hard enough for him to feel her but not to break the skin.
“Now,” she said, her voice husky with need. “Do it now.”
He slid inside her, and she closed her eyes, feeling him, savoring it as he filled her. Already she was trembling, on the verge of climax. He must have known it, and, wanting to control it, he stop
ped. His chest was rising and falling as if he’d been running. He let his head fall back, and she licked at the arch of his throat, tasting him, wanting more. He slid out and then thrust into her again, harder, and the climax hovered nearer. She was balancing on the edge of the precipice.
“Melanie,” he groaned.
Her name on his mouth was enough.
With a gasping cry she went over the edge, clinging to him, her hips moving frantically against him. Even while her body was soaring she felt him thrusting again, and then he cried out and followed her.
There were colors in her head, actual starbursts of color. It was like nothing she had ever known. She couldn’t speak; speaking was beyond her. It felt more than sex, more than an orgasm; it was an experience she would remember for the rest of her life.
Melanie took a breath and wanted to ask him if he’d seen the lights, too. If he’d felt his body lifting and flying. But she was too weak, too sated. She realized he was taking her very carefully in his arms, holding her boneless body against his, and then he was lowering them both, down into the wonderful steamy water.
It sloshed, puddling on the floor, but she didn’t care. For once in her life she didn’t care about anything but the moment. She was content to lie lifeless in his arms. She sprawled against his body, supported by him and the water, her cheek on his chest, his arms wrapped about her, and she had never been more content.
Melanie could feel his heart beating. She turned her face and kissed his skin, tasting it, and then wondered at herself. Usually she had trouble turning her mind off when she was with a man, but this was different. She felt renewed. A new woman, she thought, with a smile.
“Are you all right?”
She could hear his voice inside his chest and wriggled closer. “More all right than I’ve been for a long time.”
The colors in her head had receded, but there was still a strange echoey feeling in there, as if something had come loose. As if she’d gone to sleep and then woken up in a new body and now she had to get used to it.
Immortal Warriors 02 - Secrets of the Highwayman Page 16