by Unknown
Cain rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to admit his tunic felt rather coarse and that he also preferred a higher quality of clothing himself. He had hoped they would have run into a village by now, where he could pilfer better garments, but they hadn’t even seen another soul pass them on the rutted dirt road.
By nightfall, they reached the small village of Kilmarnock, thankfully finding an inn. Gwen twitched her nose at the off smell in their cramped room for the night. She stood on bare feet, which were cut and bleeding in spots, and all she wanted was a shower...one she knew she’d never get.
Cain walked over to the teeny window and closed the shutter, securing it on the inside. The night grew chilly and there wasn’t a fireplace to warm the room. He was on the verge of using black magic to create a room made for a king, but he didn’t know how close he was from crossing a line he’d never be able to get back over.
He glanced over his shoulder at Gwen. She sat on the edge of the dirty, single bed, rubbing her feet. He cursed. He had forgotten she had time-traveled without any shoes. She had walked the entire day without complaining once about her feet.
He strode over to her, kneeling down, briskly moving her hands away, only to take over and inspect her feet. “Why didna ye tell me?” he growled. “This can get infected. We dinna have medical miracles like in the twenty-first century!”
“It doesn’t hurt,” she said softly. Gwen yawned. “Besides, it’s only a couple of scratches that a hot bath could take care of.”
“If ye had a hot bath!” Cain rose and kicked the foul chamber pot across the room, sending its contents splattering across the wall. He grabbed his head. “This place is a pig sty! It has nothing!” He turned on her. Cain stared at Gwen in silence, breathing rapidly. After a moment, he glanced seriously at her. “Stay back, and remember, if I dinna come around after this…knock me out. That seemed to have worked last time."
* * * * *
CHAPTER SIX
Gwen sprung up, well aware Cain planned to cast black magic. “Don’t you dare cast another-“ An echo of Cain reciting a chant immediately filled the room. The familiar black whirlwind rose around her, and before her eyes, the room began to bulge and change into an opulent chamber fit for royalty.
Amazingly, the small quarters grew ten times in size. Salmon wallpaper with gold filigree covered the walls, as ornate furniture popped up around the room. An exquisite four-poster canopy bed took the place of the soiled one from before. An enormous fireplace filled the opposite wall and a huge copper basin with steaming hot water materialized in the corner. A large, round table with candelabras and a salmon colored tablecloth appeared, covered with platters of food, main dishes, side dishes, desserts, and everything in-between.
The room suddenly stilled. Cain gripped the edge of the large bed. His hands braced the bed as he bent over, panting. Gwen let out a long breath as she watched him. She could see him battling to gain control over his body.
Without warning, he spun around, standing before her, a second before scooping her up. He strode with her over to the bed, his black eyes gleaming. Gwen wanted to stop him, yet she also yearned for his touch, embracing the way they had done in her dream. After all, she knew he had created the comfortable room and hot bath just for her. He had created a luxurious haven inside a dilapidated inn, their own private oasis. Didn’t she owe him? Was it so bad if she wanted him to touch her? For once, she wanted to be with Cain and not worry about Rowena appearing, punishing them both. For one night, she'd pretend she was safe.
Cain dropped her to the bed and with one knee on the edge, he paused, his black eyes roving over her, then hastily removed his tunic. Reaching out, he pulled the rope from around her waist, loosening it. Still, she didn’t protest. Her cheeks flushed as she absently licked her lips.
Cain caught the movement, lunging down upon her in an instant. Nuzzling her neck, his hands grabbed the sides of her waist. Cain growled and Gwen wondered how close he grew to emerging from his prison. He grasped the middle of the neckline of her gown, ripping the horrendous dress right down the middle. His hands never slowed as they sought out her breasts, pushing up her shirt as they went.
Gwen felt her body grow warm, the need for him to be inside her overwhelming. Possessed or not, Cain had a hold on her. She reached down and pulled his head up to hers. With a hungry yearning, a century old, she kissed him. She felt him freeze and then hastily take charge of the kiss. His tongue plunged deep into her mouth, searching every crevice. Gwen moaned, wrapping one hand around his back and the other at the nape of his neck, burying her fingers in his thick hair. So engrossed in the kiss, she became unaware that only she moved against him.
Cain's body posed motionless over her, as she continued kissing him. Now clear headed, he fought one hell of an erection, and his surprised emotions of undeniable want for Julianna's daughter. Gwen moved against him, frantically kissing him as though he was a long lost love, reunited. Who was the one possessed, he wondered.
He mentally sobered, but the want for her to keep going, was unbearable. If he kept his eyes shut, she’d never even know he wasn’t himself again. His hands turned into fists. He may have loose morals, may have killed thousands, upon thousands of men in war without even blinking, but he would not hurt Julianna like this. He would not soil her daughter with his evilness. Reaching around his neck, he reluctantly pulled Gwen’s hands off of him and sat back.
After the air traveled over her bare chest, Gwen opened her eyes, meeting Cain’s intense gaze. Before she could turn away and cover herself, Cain quickly said, “Gwen…I canna…I willna hurt ye, or your mother's trust like that." Gwen pressed her lips together, nodding, gazing off to the side.
Cain ground his teeth together. One kiss. He would give her one kiss so she knew he wanted her. Turning her face back to him, he covered her mouth with his. He told himself, one quick kiss, but that thought swiftly vanished as he relished her submissive mouth.
Running his hand down the side of her face, finding pleasure in touching the soft skin underneath, feelings of consumption raced over him. Her body was too perfect. Fighting with himself, he tried denying the fact that everything felt so right. Gwen’s hands moved up to his neck once more.
Cain hesitantly pulled back. “Gwen,” he rasped out, “we have to stop.” Gwen silently nodded, catching her own breath, pulling down her shirt. “Besides,” he said with a chagrined smile, “the hot water in your bath is getting cold.”
Instantly, Gwen’s eyes widened. Cain drew back, off the massive bed, leaving his hand out for her. Willingly, she placed her delicate hand in his, letting him pull her up and lead her over to the large copper tub. Steam rose from the water with a wonderful scent of citrus. Gwen turned to Cain, smiling brightly. In all sincerity, she went up on tiptoes, and gave him a peck on the cheek.
Unnerved at how good it felt to make her happy, Cain stepped away, and made his way to the other side of the room, giving her privacy. He sat down at the table, one leg up, resting on the edge of the chair across from him. He palmed a ripe, red apple, before taking a bite and glancing over toward Gwen. She smiled to herself, oblivious to everything, including him, as she washed and scrubbed herself. The tub, so large, barely showed her head bobbing above the rim.
Cain’s brow furrowed as he glanced down at his apple. How had she pushed the demons from him so quickly with her touch? He had felt her, deep within. It had felt like the sun, a burst of light, a path leading him back to the surface. Hell, he hadn’t even had to follow it, she had pulled him along. It was as though her energy pulled him through the darkness while the evil cowered to the sides, scared to touch the strange light. Kissing her to come back from the evil within wouldn’t make him stop using black magic. If anything, he wanted to cast spell after spell. His thoughts returned to the one word that bothered him so much…how?
“Cain?”
Cain spun his head around, hearing his name fall from her lips.
“I need a towel.” A wickedly handsome smile cros
sed his face. She watched as he leisurely walked over to the tub, picking up the soft linen from the chaise along the way. He held it out to her, just out of her reach. Glancing up at him, her eyes burned brightly with passion. Slowly, she rose, her hips just under the frothy white water, hiding what Cain wanted to see so badly. With a precise movement, she wrapped her hand around the corner of the linen, never taking her gaze away.
Cain, continued holding on to the cloth and walked around the tub, wrapping it around her shoulders as he went. Hastily, she rose, giving him a quick view of her splendid backside before the linen covered her. Securely wrapped, she stepped out of the tub. Cain noticed her cringe at the dirty, torn dress on the floor.
“Here,” he said, walking over to a large, elaborate chest at the end of the bed. Opening it up, he removed a beautiful, white nightgown like the ones she had worn long ago.
Gwen’s eyes widened upon viewing the inviting garment. Long, bell-shaped sleeves and a simple white ribbon at the neckline adorned the nightgown. When Cain handed it out to her, she gasped upon feeling the soft material. The corner of Cain’s mouth twitched before turning around and busying himself with the fire.
Gwen hurriedly dried herself off and slipped into the nightgown. The fabric glided over her skin like a sinful caress. Grabbing another linen, she rubbed down her hair.
“Come,” Cain said, pulling out a seat by the table. “Have a bite to eat and warm yourself by the fire.”
Running her fingers through her hair, she sat down in the offered chair. Heat radiating from the fire warmed her back as Cain removed the polished, silver covers from two serving platters, revealing poached fish and a marinated beef brisket with potatoes and carrots. Gwen licked her lips as her stomach growled furiously. Trays of exotic fruits, assorted nuts, white and dark chocolates, and spiced plums filled the table before her.
With haste, she began picking from the trays and popping the delicious morsels into her mouth. Even though she didn’t look at him, she knew Cain stared hungrily her way. Every now and then, he’d drop a grape, or spiced plum into his mouth. Gwen was too afraid to even steal one glance at him. Her body still hummed from when they had kissed on the bed. She didn’t think she’d ever experience a kiss more sensual than Cain's kisses from long ago, but now, excitement and sexual urgency filled the caresses. Perhaps, it was because she was older and a woman now, or because she had missed him so much.
After her stomach lay completely satisfied, she pushed away from the table and took a seat on the plush rug in front of the fire. She sat cross-legged and began finger combing her hair. A hard object nudged her shoulder. Gwen looked back. Cain held out a gold-plated hairbrush. Graciously, she accepted and began combing her hair, trying to forget about the intense man watching from behind.
Cain lounged back in a high-back wing chair. He realized he enjoyed pampering her…even if it had cost him another tattoo on his arm. He brought his hand up to his chin and watched Gwen brush out her long, raven locks. A tug at his heart reminded him of a time from long ago, when another woman had brushed her hair in front of him. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the woman’s face, but to no avail. Had the evils completely taken over that part of his memory, eating his beloved recollections little by little? The one reminiscence he wished the evils had taken, remained, feeling like that horrible day had happened only yesterday. That horrid memory haunted him every night.
Noise from a movement startled him. He opened his eyes, only to find Gwen standing before him, watching him. His gaze traveled the length of her, the fire illuminating her gown, causing his attention to linger at her hips. Cain's hands fisted as he followed the curves of her body down to her dainty feet that peeked from beneath her nightgown. Cain clenched his teeth. Perhaps, he should have her…just once, and then he could protect her without the wanting to be inside her every waking second. If he bedded her, visions of her body would be rid from his thoughts for good.
Without warning, Gwen bent down and kissed him softly on his stubbly cheek. “Thank you," she said, glancing around the room, "for all of this. I can’t tell you how much better I feel after taking that bath.” Earnestly, she met his gaze. “I don’t know what casting this spell cost you,” she said softly, “but thank you.”
Cain watched Gwen pad softly over to the bed, climb on top, and snuggle under the sumptuous covers. Within minutes, her breathing became soft and even. He hadn’t realized how tired she had been. Cain nonchalantly walked over to the hearth. Bending down, he stoked the fire, sending a steady, warm gust of air into the room. After extinguishing the candles throughout the room, he sunk down on the gold, paisley chaise. Pulling out the amber necklace from his pocket, he closed his eyes, struggling to visualize a long lost love.
* * * * *
A loud roar filled the room. Gwen’s eyes popped open. Sitting up, she realized Cain tossed and turned on the chaise, having a nightmare. Striding over to him, she caught a glimpse of a small object drop from his hand and “clink” on the floor.
Gwen bent down, picking up a small stone connected to a chain. She held it up to the firelight as it reflected gold, caramel, and orange colorings between her fingers. The stone suddenly glowed in her palm. Gwen gasped, flinging the small piece of jewelry away from her. She didn’t know what type of spell it contained and didn’t want to find out.
The necklace landed softly onto Cain's stomach. His eyes opened. Reaching out, he mumbled to the blurry vision of a woman standing before him. “My love, ye returned.” Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head against her. Upon feeling the woman tense up and freeze, Cain sat back and rubbed his eyes. Re-opening them, he focused on the woman in front of him. Gwen. His heart sighed. It was true. No matter how much he dreamt of the faceless lass, whenever he awoke, she was taken away again. He had to face the fact that she was gone, and gone because of him.
“Sorry if I woke ye,” he said gruffly.
Gwen watched him as he grabbed the necklace and stuffed it back into his pocket. “Is that stone magical?” Gwen asked hesitantly.
Cain's hand stilled in his pocket. “I'm not sure. I never was able to try it out."
“Oh.” She should have told him that the stone glowed in her hand, but quickly decided against that thought. He'd make her show him and if there was one thing she was sick of, it was magic ruining her life.
Cain sat up, glancing over to the set of huge velvet curtains. A gray, hazy light shone through the cracks. Sunrise. “Why dinna ye get dressed. ‘Tis almost morn.” Gwen nodded, searching around the room for her t-shirt and shorts. As she rummaged under the bed, Cain came up behind her. “I think these are what ye’ll be needing.”
Gwen glanced over her shoulder, finding Cain holding out a heap of lavender satin. Slowly, she rose, running her fingers over the exquisite gown. Retreating, Cain left the dress in her hands. He walked back to the other side of the room and pulled his tunic up over his head. Gwen sucked in a breath as she glimpsed his newest tattoo. Cain paused slightly, before he reached down and pulled a black tunic over his head.
Gwen found herself wanting to run her fingers over the most recent tattoo. How bad had the brand hurt him? Watching him fasten a gold-hilted sword to his belt, Gwen swiftly pulled the dress on over her nightgown, leaving her pajamas to act as a chemise.
She just finished pushing her arms out through the sleeves, when Cain turned toward her. The gown fit perfectly. She realized Cain had a good eye for size. Noticing the long oval mirror in the corner, she walked over. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think she had never left the thirteenth century. The dress was succulently soft and beautiful, even if the neckline did scoop indecently low. She glanced up. She caught her breath as she realized Cain stood behind her.
“I hope ye like the gown. I designed it myself,” he said, glimpsing the tops of her breasts over her shoulder.
Gwen shivered from the slight touch of his knuckles against her back. He steadied her with a quick hand on her waist.
/> Cain leaned forward. “Gwen,” he said softly, his breath tickling the hairs by her ear, “it would be indecent for ye to go outside with your dress unfastened in the back. Let me help ye.”
Glancing into the mirror, she made a small sign of consent. Gwen concentrated on steadying her breathing. She gulped upon feeling his fingers brush against her spine, working their way up her back. Once at the top, he tied the last ribbon.
Gwen was about to move, when he leaned forward and whispered by her ear, “I’m glad it fits. Ye’re verra becoming." He leant down, planning to place a light kiss on her neck, when a loud thud came from the door. Both their heads turned. “Stay here,” Cain said, leaving Gwen in the far corner of the room, answering the door. The moment his hand touched the knob, the door burst open, sending Cain backwards, lying flat on the floor.
Two enormous, muscular men hulked inside the room. “I told ye he was here,” one of the men sneered. “I kenned I saw the likes o' him last night.” With a furious wave of the one man's hand, the room’s walls bounced in and out, suddenly transforming back into the shabby room with the one, dirty bed. Gwen had been standing a good thirty feet away, but now, she stood only a few feet from the man that had broken the spell. He had jet-black hair and a scar running through his left eye, and down his cheek. His counterpart, the complete opposite, had bright golden-brown hair and a handsome, if not intimidating disposition.
Cain shook his head rising up from the floor, leaning on one arm. He glanced up at the two men who had barged in. “Ah, Marsel,” he sneered, “and who's dog are ye now?” The black haired man, who must have been Marsel, snarled, taking a step forward. His partner held out his hand stopping him. Cain sat up. “Now who’s this?” he asked, eyeing the other man. “Dinna tell me," Cain said glowering, "Marsel promised ye riches if ye did his thug work for him.”