Karin had written to her, too, as had Bethany and Helena, her sister, as well as Fiona, the Laird's wife… she smiled to herself as she read their enthusiastic letters. She was so looking forward to meeting these women. She frowned as she reached the end of her stack of paper… but the good thing about letters was that you could read them as many times as you liked. And as she returned to the top of the pile again, she realized she wasn’t feeling quite as awful as she had been that morning.
After reading through three times, she got out of bed again, finding that she was much less dizzy than she had been. Was it a coincidence – or was it something about the letters that had buoyed her, restoring her spirits? Some combination of the two, she decided with a grin. It wasn’t long before a servant came up with her lunch – and, to her delight, a stack of writing paper and a pen and ink.
“From Sir Baldric,” the servant explained, bobbing a little curtsey. “He said he suspected you might want to write back to your friends. It’s something to do, at any rate, while you’re stuck in bed.”
“Thank you,” she said warmly. “And pass my thanks to Sir Baldric, too, would you?”
That knight definitely knew how to give a good gift. She spent the rest of the afternoon writing long replies to each of the letters she’d received, and she blinked in surprise when she realized the light in the room had faded. Time really did fly when you were having fun… and she realized with another shock that the sick feeling had well and truly retreated. She was almost feeling back to normal again.
A tap on the door disturbed her from her letter writing sometime later, but she happily set her project aside when she saw who was at the door – Robert, a covered tray in his hands and that gorgeous smile on his handsome face. She shifted over, eager to have him sit beside her, and he raised an eyebrow at her stacks of paper.
“You’ve been busy this afternoon. Did you get any sleep?”
“I didn’t feel the need,” she said, realizing in the moment that the bone-deep fatigue that had been a symptom of the disease had gone along with the nausea. “I think I must have turned a corner. The letters did it,” she said, only half-joking.
Marianne had said a few confusing things about witchcraft in her own letter… they’d seemed like jokes, but was it possible that the woman had put some kind of healing spell on the parchment? If she was going to believe she’d time traveled to medieval Scotland, why not go all in and believe in magic as well?
“The power of a few voices of affection and support is impressive,” Robert agreed with a smile. “It was my brothers and my friends who finally pulled me out of my slump after I lost Brianna to that murderer.”
She sighed. “That’s just so awful. I’m so sorry you lost her like that, Robert. Sorry the curse didn’t get lifted in time.” Bethany had gone into detail in her letter about the lifting of the curse – it had been her own ancestor who had laid the curse originally, and Brianna had a much better understanding of exactly what had gone on now that she’d read it. “I can’t claim to understand magic especially well, but… it all just sounds awful.”
“It has been,” he said softly. “But … well, I’m glad to know you.”
“Likewise,” Brianna said with a smile. “For all that it’s about the most chaotic and disruptive thing that’s ever happened to me, I…” She looked around the room, thoughtful. “I’m happy here. I’m happy to be here. I think… I think my life needed a change. I mean, I was thinking more of a haircut than moving back in time five hundred years, but…”
Robert laughed, a sound that filled her chest with warmth.
Chapter 18
Robert lifted the cover off the platter, handing her a meal of roast meat and vegetables. She smiled as she tucked in, realizing that her appetite appeared to be stronger now – though she’d eaten her breakfast and lunch out of duty, she could feel her stomach actively rumbling now, demanding more and more of the delicious meal. “I’m hungry again,” she said brightly, looking up at Robert, who smiled.
“That’s a good sign. We’ll soon have you feeling much more the thing.”
“Can’t wait,” she said, glancing at her stack of letters. “When do you think it’ll be safe to travel again?”
“Well, provided that the roads are still guarded… I can’t see why we couldn’t set off as soon as you’re well. We’ve still got the negotiations with Weatherby to think of too, of course…”
“Oh, yes. We’ll get that sorted soon,” she said firmly. “I’m feeling optimistic about all that – though it’s a bit of a worry to have those highwaymen at large.”
“Aye, we’ll do our best to track them down,” Robert said, nodding. “I’m sure Eamon and his men are on the case. Weatherby will be delighted to see them caught and punished, I’m sure,” he added sourly.
She nodded, knowing it was a sore point to have the desperate Stuart men punished for their misdeeds.
“Hopefully, we can ensure that whatever punishment they receive takes into account their desperate circumstances,” Robert continued, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t want Weatherby to think we’re going to be soft on them, though. Not at this stage in the negotiations.”
“We’ll handle him,” Brianna assured him, smiling a little at how hopeful she felt. It was amazing what a good meal could do… that, combined with the fact that her illness was clearly past its worst point, and the warm buzz of pleasure she felt at being in Robert’s company, so close to the man she so admired… she realized she was staring at him in the candlelight and cleared her throat, lowering her gaze to her almost-finished dinner.
“Are you still hungry?” he asked, tilting his head to the side – and she realized there was something else on the tray he’d brought, half-hidden by the cover. Her eyes widened as he grinned, revealing a plate that had what looked like two fresh pastries, still gently steaming, pastry folded around what looked like preserved fruit. “The cook used the last of the summer’s preserves for these… it’s almost spring, so they’ll be replaced soon enough, but better enjoy it while it lasts.”
The pastry was hot, soft, and utterly delicious… and while she ate it, she reflected on the curious notion of seasonal availability. Of course fruit would be limited in winter months – it wasn’t as though they had trucks and ships and planes to bring harvests from other hemispheres, to keep supply steady regardless of the season. She’d been rather spoiled in her contemporary life, hadn’t she? But knowing that there was a limit to the delicious pastry she was eating made it taste even better. Maybe she was just in a good mood, she thought, but for the moment, she could almost imagine making a life here.
Robert was looking at her thoughtfully, for all the world as though he were following her train of thought, and she looked up at him as she finished off her pastry, grinning at the sight of crumbs decorating his face. Before she could stop herself, she reached out to brush them away from his chin… and her fingers lingered on his face, his blue eyes surprisingly close in the candlelight. They locked eyes for a moment that could have been seconds or hours, and for the life of her she couldn’t think of anything other than how close they were, how utterly alone in this little room, the limitless possibilities before them… and then, as though reading her mind in her eyes, he leaned in and claimed her lips in a kiss that was soft, and gentle, and careful – more of a question than a statement, a wordless request for…
For a deepening of the kiss, which she obliged, almost too quickly. The days she’d spent exhausted and miserable were behind her, the fever and fatigue she’d been feeling the furthest thing from her mind as she felt a new heat begin to burn in her, a need for him to be closer to her. She felt his fingers card through her hair before his strong hand came to rest at the base of her neck, holding her to him as they explored each other’s lips, the kiss burning fiercely in her mind. Every thought was gone – of time and place, of where she was and where she was going and how she’d gotten here… all she knew was that he was here, burning in her awareness like a tor
ch, and that she’d been holding herself back from him for far, far too long.
Somehow, she’d pushed the bedclothes back, and she found herself sitting up to get closer to him. He, too, was leaning forward on his chair, both his hands on her now, beginning to roam from their chaste position on her neck and shoulders – one had slipped around her waist to draw her in while the other curled through her hair, pressing her closer to him, deepening their kiss as she felt her breathing picking up in the quiet room. There was nothing to distract them this time, nothing to break them apart… and though she felt a twinge of hesitation at the prospect of where this fiery kiss might be going, it was quickly drowned by her need for him.
Robert rose from his chair and moved to the bed with her, and she felt a wave of relief as he finally took her into his arms – the air in the room was chilly, and the heat of his body was welcome for more than one reason. Brianna wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close to her, pulling him back and down and into the bed. Chuckling, he broke away for a moment, and she laughed breathlessly as she realized he was kicking off his boots. Then he slid into the bed with her and pulled the bedclothes back over them, their bodies wrapped in one another, warm and safe. Nobody knew he was there, she wasn’t expected anywhere… they had the whole night ahead of them to explore each other, to be together, to see where this increasingly frantic kissing would lead them…
Before long, his kisses were roaming all over her – first down her chin to her throat, then to her collarbones, where he found each and every sensitive spot that sent electricity arcing through her body to pool in her stomach, low and taut. His fingers, dexterous from years playing the harp, made short work of the buttons on her nightdress, and she was grateful for the simplicity of the garment as he pulled it from her shoulders – it would have taken a great deal longer to get her out of the more formal dress she’d been wearing on days when she was strong enough to actually leave her bed.
Her bra gave him pause. She giggled as she broke away from the kiss for a moment to look at his face – a very familiar look of utter confusion was vivid in his blue eyes as he tugged at the straps, frowning to himself.
“What kind of future nonsense –”
“Do women not wear bras in the medieval era?” she teased him, raising one eyebrow. “Support for their –”
“Aye, but nothing like this,” he said irritably, gesturing at it. Relenting, she reached around to her back and unclasped it, and he grinned in triumph as he plucked it easily from her unprotesting form. She lay back against the pillows, feeling his bright blue eyes greedily drinking her in, feeling dizzy and powerful and more beautiful than she’d ever felt making love to… well, anyone. Did he look at all the girls that way? She knew he’d been a rather … well, promiscuous man before he’d met his wife, and a part of her worried that she was falling for playboy tricks… but a much, much bigger part of her didn’t care if she was. Not if it meant she got his body against hers, his lips on her throat, kissing a fiery trail down her neck, across her chest, the sensitive skin of her breasts… he took a nipple into his mouth and teased at it gently and she arched her back, whimpering a little at the strength of the sensation. It felt like years since she’d been touched like this, since she’d felt a man’s hands on her… all she wanted was more of him, his hands, his mouth, every inch of him against her…
And he seemed more than willing to indulge her. She realized with a shock that he’d somehow managed to undress himself as well as her – a clever trick, she thought with amusement, realizing he must have acted while she was distracted by his lips against her skin. Here, in the candlelight, he was an absolute masterpiece, and she pushed him away for a moment, murmuring an entreaty to just let her look at him for a moment. Those broad shoulders, that mane of blond hair beginning to come undone from its neat braids, his blue eyes glowing in the low light… she reached out with one hand, tracing the candlelit outlines of the muscles under his skin, and she felt a surge of arousal as he shivered, just slightly, at her touch. So she wasn’t the only one feeling a little sensitive to the touch, she thought with a grin, her fingers dancing across his skin, moving lower and lower…
He growled, an unbelievably sexy sound, as her fingers found his manhood, and he threw his head back against the pillow, suddenly at her mercy as she teased him with slow, gentle strokes that drew pleasure from him without bringing him too close to the edge. His eyes slid open, clouded with desire, and she felt him wrap one arm around her and drag her closer. Both of them were naked, now, and the feeling of skin against skin was utterly electric, both of them groaning as their bodies slid and crashed together, kissing each other with wild abandon, hands roaming and grasping. It wasn’t long before it was too much to resist, and she felt him grasping her thighs, drawing them apart, his fingers grazing her aching sex and sending pleasure sparking through her body like lightning. She whimpered, rocked her hips against his hand, desperate for more contact – whether that was his hand or his manhood, she was too far gone to care. Just more of it – more touch, more pressure, more of him.
He obliged her with a skill that surprised her, even knowing his playboy past. His fingers seemed to dance across her body, plucking pleasure from her the way he plucked notes from his harp… effortlessly powerful, always exactly where they needed to be. She could feel her body burning as her climax built deep within her, his fingertips dipping and twirling inside her, teasing at her clitoris, his lips on her throat and on her breasts setting up a counterpoint of sensation that threatened to drive her absolutely wild. She couldn’t think of anything, couldn’t move beyond the helpless thrusting of her hips, couldn’t do anything but gasp and whimper and beg for more – and when she felt like she was just about to crash over the peak of her climax, she felt him withdraw his hand and line up his manhood instead.
His blue eyes caught hers in an unspoken question, and she realized that even trembling with desire as he was, even with her body laid out before him, utterly conquered, that he was waiting for her permission – waiting for absolute confirmation that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. It was almost laughable, the question – she could feel her hips rocking up desperately against him, begging for him to bury himself in her – and she nodded breathlessly, reaching up to claim his lips in a kiss as he finally gave in. She felt his manhood slide into her, slowly at first, and she uttered a shaky groan at the sensation of being filled, stretched, stimulated in the deepest part of her… and then he slid back and thrust again, and the explosion of pleasure that rocked through her made her arch her back and wrap both legs around his waist, desperate to draw him deeper, to feel more of that electric feeling.
He felt it, too – she could tell by the way his breath was catching and heaving in his chest, from the low groans he uttered in her ear as they began to move together, setting up a delicious, grinding rhythm that she could feel accelerating as both of them headed for the inevitable climax. She tried to hold herself back, knowing how close she was, not wanting to beat him there… but it was almost impossible, with the fire raging through her body, to have any control whatsoever. She clenched her legs tight around him, drawing him deeper, trying to share the pleasure she was feeling with him, and she felt him groan, his hands clenching around her as he, too, approached his climax –
And she muffled a scream as it finally crashed over her, as unstoppable as the tide, a great wave of sensation that obliterated her senses, left her reeling in the aftershocks. Robert, too, was gripped by it, his whole body tensing as he forced out a shuddering groan – and then they collapsed together in a pile of sweaty limbs, utterly exhausted… and utterly sated.
Chapter 19
But they didn’t sleep for long. It was still dark when Brianna woke, disturbed by something she couldn’t initially put a name to. Was it the unfamiliar feeling of a man in her bed? Robert was fast asleep, his arms still wrapped around her, his sleeping face rather beautiful in the moonlight that spilled through the window. She gazed at him for a long mome
nt, smiling softly, realizing that the candle had burned out at some point in the last few hours and not minding at all. Her body was still glowing pleasantly after the exertion of their lovemaking and she’d never felt more satisfied and smug in her life. What an absolutely explosive connection they’d had… she’d never felt like that with someone, even men she’d dated for years. To think that that had been their first time… that it would only get better as they got to know each other more, learn the intricacies of what felt good… she shivered a little in delight, then realized with a shock that she was already thinking about a future with this man. What if he didn’t want that? What if this had just been a one-off thing?
Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to worry about that – not right now, anyway. The way he’d looked at her when they were making love… the soft smile on his face as they’d drifted off to sleep in the afterglow… no, somehow, right now, she couldn’t believe that he didn’t want to see at least a little more of her. And though she knew, distantly, that there would likely be some problems with starting a relationship with someone who’d lived hundreds of years before she’d even been born, right now she was more than happy to just exist in this wonderful, unbelievable moment.
But then the sound came again – and this time she felt Robert stir. So it hadn’t been Robert that had woken her… it had been the sound of a crash downstairs, quickly joined by another. Brianna tensed as she heard loud voices, a few more crashes, the unmistakable sound of a struggle – shouts and hurried footsteps, and then an eerie silence. Robert was sitting bolt upright in bed, looking confused and worried, and she blinked drowsily as he vaulted out of bed – but not so drowsily that she couldn’t admire the view while he gathered his clothing from where it had been thrown to the floor of her room.
Highlander Returned: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander In Time Book 9) Page 13