by Lynsay Sands
Emily allowed her hands to move over his chest and arms, then let them drop down over his stomach until they reached the top of his knee breeches. Keeran immediately groaned into her mouth and she felt the muscles in his stomach ripple. Feeling encouraged, she let her hand drop lower, but didn’t get far before Keeran caught her hand and drew it away.
“But I want to touch you too,” Emily whispered in protest when he broke their kiss to trail his lips over her cheek to one ear.
“Later,” he assured her. “I am having enough trouble controlling myself.”
Emily hadn’t a clue what he was talking about when he spoke of control, but wasn’t in the mood to question him. Contenting herself with running her hands over his shoulders, chest, and back, she sighed and arched and shifted into his caresses as his fingers slid between her legs and danced busily over her flesh, driving her to a fevered pitch. She was mindless with desire when he finally lifted her off of his lap to lay her back on the bed, and she shifted restlessly as he quickly removed the rest of his clothes.
Emily opened her arms in welcome when he rejoined her in bed, then dragged his head down to kiss him. She thought he would return to caressing her again and mentally prepared herself for the first shock of his touch. She wasn’t quite prepared, however, when he suddenly slid into her. She cried out, more with surprise than Pain, and stiffened beneath him at the unexpected intrusion, then realized that he, too, had stilled.
Emily opened her eyes to see his tense face, then shifted beneath him experimentally, wondering why there hadn’t been more pain. Her nanny had said their would be horrendous pain the first time when she had spoken to her about the wedding night to come. But the small twinge Emily had experienced was far from horrendous.
A low groan from Keeran made her still her experimentation. She glanced at his face to see his agonized expression and wondered if she had misunderstood her nanny. Perhaps it wasn’t the woman who suffered the first time. She was worrying over that when Keeran opened his eyes and speared her with a glance.
“Are you all right?” he asked gruffly.
Emily swallowed, then nodded solemnly.
“Thank God,” he growled and immediately began to move. Emily almost protested when he withdrew from her, but the breath she had inhaled to speak with was expelled on a sigh as he immediately slid back into her again. Unsure what else to do, Emily slid her arms and then her legs around Keeran and simply held on, allowing her body to move, arch, and clench as it saw fit. Her body seemed to have a better idea of what to do than her mind did, which was perhaps a good thing, since her mind appeared to have decided to bow out of this undertaking. Emily was simply a mass of sensation now, her body singing to the tune he played.
Keeran drove into her over and over again, his body screaming with pleasure as her moist heat welcomed him. He had known it would be like this. Her body was a warm welcome on his return from battle, a flaming fireside after a cold ride through a blizzard. She heated him and made him feel as though his lifeless heart beat again.
Emily cried his name breathlessly, her nails biting into his back as she urged him on, and Keeran growled with the excitement that was building to an unbearable level. Bending his head, he caught her mouth in a passionate kiss, then made a trail of kisses to her neck, where the scent of her excited blood was intoxicating. He inhaled the sweet scent, his growl growing in his throat, then felt his body buck and instinctively sunk his teeth into her tender flesh as pleasure engulfed him.
Emily’s eyes flew open with shock as she felt his teeth slice into her throat. There was one moment of searing pain, then ecstasy replaced it and slid through her body. She felt that explosion of pleasure she had experienced earlier, only far more intense, and allowed it to overwhelm her as darkness closed in.
Emily opened her eyes and found herself peering through the open drapes at the predawn sky. She stared at the lightening sky for a minute, then a sound made her turn her head to find Keeran dressed and seated in a chair beside the bed. He sat in shadow, his expression obscured. It was then she recalled what they had done, and his biting her. Had he turned her?
“Am I—?”
“No,” he assured her quickly and leaned forward to clasp her hands. “I stopped as soon as I realized what I was doing. I am sorry, Emily. So sorry. I never meant to ... I shouldn’t have ...”
“It’s all right,” Emily said quietly, and meant it. She didn’t mind that he had bitten her. She was only sorry that he had stopped before—
“Don’t think that way!” he snapped harshly.
Emily blinked in surprise that he had been able to read her thoughts. It seemed they had a connection now, and if that was the case, he knew she loved him. There was now nothing to be gained by not speaking of her love and the fact that she wished to stay with him, that she, in fact, would do whatever was necessary to be allowed to stay with him.
His hand squeezed hers almost painfully, drawing her gaze again. “Never think that way. You do not want to be like me.”
“Perhaps not, but I would like to be with you, and if I must become like you to do so—”
“No.” He covered her mouth to silence her blasphemy. But he was looking tortured now, almost desperate. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t understand.”
“You are the one who doesn’t understand,” Emily interrupted, knocking his hand away from her mouth with sharp impatience. “Do you think I just let every man I meet make love to me? Nay. I love you, Keeran.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!” he roared, suddenly on his feet and pacing away from the bed, then back. “You can not love me.”
“I can and I do,” she insisted.
“Emily.” He bent to take her hands beseechingly. “I have nothing to offer you.”
“You have yourself. That is more than enough.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“No. You don’t, you can’t know what you’re saying.” Keeran turned away, pacing several feet before stopping. He was tempted by her offer. To keep her with him for eternity, to have her to hunt with, to curl up by the fire in the library and read with on cold nights.. . . Keeran was tempted. Terribly tempted. He had never before wanted anything so much in this imitation of a life he lived. But he couldn’t do it. Emily had crawled inside his heart. He didn’t know how; he had thought that organ long dead, yet there it was. Not only had she cleaned and brightened his home, she had brightened his night and filled his heart as well. She was his sun and he wanted desperately to keep her with him. But the love that made him desperate to keep her by his side was the same love that wouldn’t allow him to do it. Keeran had taken her innocence; he would not take her life. He could never condemn her to this eternal death, and damn her soul to eternal hell.
Emily watched Keeran’s stiff back and waited breathlessly. She knew he was considering her words and making his decision. Her happiness depended on that decision. When he finally turned back to her, his expression held his answer, and Emily felt something begin to die within her. Her heart perhaps, or hope? He did not speak right away, but simply stood staring at her hard as if memorizing what she looked like. When he finally spoke, his voice was polite, as empty and polite as the words he mouthed.
“The dawn comes. I must leave you. I will arrange a carriage and outriders to take you home when I rise tomorrow night. With any luck you shall be able to leave first thing the morning after. You should sleep now.” He didn’t stay to wait for Emily’s response, but strode from the room once the words had left his mouth.
Emily stared at the door he closed behind him and felt her heart breaking. She had lost. Her hopes of happiness had just walked out of the room.
Chapter Five
Emily did not sleep. For one moment, she considered bursting into weak tears and sobbing her broken heart out, but then she decided that would be a horrible waste of time, and time was something she now had very little of. The moment the sun s
et on this day, Keeran would make the necessary arrangements to see her out of his life. She had to think of a way to convince him to let her stay, to let her love him.
Tossing the bedclothes aside, she slipped out of bed and began to dress as she sought the answer to this problem. Several ideas occurred to her, but Emily discarded each of them for one reason or another. It was when she went down to join the MacBains in the kitchen that the perfect idea came to her. And it was prompted by Mrs. MacBain asking which room she planned to paint that day and if she wouldn’t allow some of the new servants to help her this time.
Until that point, Emily had not even considered painting today. She had a more important matter to consider, but the housekeeper’s question had made her decide that while she would not take the time, there was no reason she could not take a couple of the new servants off cleaning detail and put them to work painting. Then she had pondered which room to start with and the paint available. There was a sky blue to replace the faded blue in one salon, sunny yellow for the other ...
Her thoughts had slowed as an idea began to niggle at her.
“Emily, dear?” Mrs. MacBain had said, rousing her from her thoughts. “Is something wrong?”
Emily had blinked and turned to glance at her. “No,” she’d said slowly. “No. Nothing’s wrong. In fact, you’ve given me a brilliant idea.”
“I have?” the older woman asked with surprise.
“Yes.” Emily’s mouth widened in a glorious smile. “And if it works, you will have made me the happiest woman in the world.”
“Oh . .. well. . . that’s nice,” she said uncertainly.
“Yes, it is,” Emily agreed, and pushing away her untouched food, she stood excitedly. “I shall need your help. And all the servants. We shall need the paint too.” She began pacing as she ticked off her list, then whirled and rushed forward to hug the housekeeper. “Oh, Mrs. MacBain, I think this might work.”
Keeran woke to complete silence. He had become so accustomed to the activity and presence of others in his home that this silence seemed unusual and even ominous. Then he recalled what had happened last night and understood. Emily had probably told Mrs. MacBain that she was to leave tomorrow, and the new servants had already decided they were through with his home. This seemed the likely answer.
It was for the best, he told himself as depression settled over him. Now he could return to his routine. Endless days and nights of misery and gloom.
Impatient with his own morbid thoughts, Keeran sat up and slipped from his resting spot, telling himself that this had been his choice. Emily had offered to spend eternity with him. It was he who had turned her away, refusing to sully her any further than he already had.
Thoughts of Emily made him realize that her presence seemed somehow subdued this night. While he could feel her in his home, it was not the strong, vibrant presence he had become used to. It was quiet and tense, almost waiting. But waiting for what? he wondered as he mounted the stairs to the first level of his home.
There were no torches to light the way, and the MacBains were nowhere to be seen when he entered the kitchen. It was only then that he paused and closed his eyes, seeking them with his mind.
He quickly realized that they were not there and felt concern grip him. Mrs. MacBain was terribly fond of Emily. Surely she wasn’t so upset about his taking her innocence that she had quit his employ?
Nay, Keeran thought. The housekeeper couldn’t know about that. Emily certainly wouldn’t have told her. However, she might have told her that he was arranging tonight to send her away, he realized, and hoped that the older woman wasn’t so upset with this news that she had quit. His next thought was that it didn’t really matter. Once Emily was gone, he would hardly care if anyone else were there or not.
Leaving the kitchen, he moved silently along the dark hall, his steps slowing as he saw that candlelight was spilling from the open ballroom door ahead. Suspecting that he would find Emily there, Keeran hesitated, unsure he had the strength to resist her should he find himself in her presence. But in the end, he didn’t have the willpower not to see her. Approaching the door cautiously, he peered into the room, then froze, his eyes widening at the display he found there.
His first thought was that Emily must have purchased every candle for sale in Scotland. And perhaps all those in England too. Hundreds of them littered the room. Some were in candleholders of varying sizes—seemingly every candleholder in his castle had been put to use—but most had simply been affixed to the floor by their own wax. None more than a foot apart, they littered the ballroom like a field of flaming flowers. And in the center stood Emily, a lone rose in her pink gown.
Keeran had never seen such a beautiful spectacle. Leaving his place by the door, he walked the wide path that had been left through the candles and joined her in the circle of light. Without a word, he took her in his arms and there in the field of flames he kissed her with the passion of centuries, then slowly stripped off her clothes and his own and lay her down on them. Her skin glowed opalescent in the candlelight as he made love to her, the small drops of perspiration that formed on her brow catching the light like diamonds.
Keeran’s dead heart swelled and squeezed by turn, glory and pain battering him at once. This was a moment he knew he would remember into eternity and every time he recalled it, he would suffer both agony and exultation. This was a gift like no other.
“I love you,” Emily whispered in the last moment of their passion, and Keeran squeezed his eyes closed, trying to memorize the sound and inflection of the words so that he could replay it in his head in the centuries to come. He was determined that memories were all he would allow himself to hold on to from this night.
When it was over, he rolled onto his back and pulled her to rest against him, cushioning her head on his shoulder and hushing her when she would have spoken. He just wanted to hold her for a moment and pretend that it could be for longer than that, that he needn’t get up, re-don his clothes, and make his way to the village to hire someone to see her home to England.
They remained like that until Keeran felt Emily shiver against him, and he became aware of the gentle breeze wafting around them. Opening his eyes, he glanced around and realized that every door leading out onto the terrace beyond was open. No doubt this was to allow the smell of fresh paint to escape, for Keeran could see that the walls had been painted the sky blue of a sunny day as he recalled it to look. Unfortunately, it was also allowing a cool evening breeze in.
He started to sit up, intending to help her dress lest she catch a chill, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Please. Just a little longer.”
Keeran hesitated, then pulled her closer in his arms and remained reclining, no more eager than she was for this interlude to end and reality to intrude. He slid one hand along her arm and stared up at the ceiling, his mind tortured with the fact that he would soon lose her... until he noticed that the ceiling was freshly painted as well.
Emily held her breath. She had been waiting for him to notice the ceiling; it was her true gift to him, and her message. It was the idea that Mrs. MacBain’s question had given her that morning. It’s the sun,“ Keeran said suddenly, and she felt her throat constrict at his thick voice. He was obviously moved by the painting she and the servants had worked on for most of the day. While they had painted the walls the blue of a sunny day, the ceiling of the ballroom now sported a large, bright sun and fluffy white clouds on a paler blue sky.
“Yes,” she managed to say past the lump in her throat. “The sun. Daylight. A sunny day, painted so that you can see it every night when you wake up, Keeran.”
Easing her off his shoulder, he stood slowly and turned in a circle, his gaze drinking in this, his first sight of sunlight in more than two hundred years. “It looks so real.”
He reached up as if to catch at a cloud, then let his hand drop slowly.
“Yes.” Emily stood up beside him and touched his arm. “I can have the sun and you too, Keeran. Th
is is enough for me.”
He stared at her sadly, then shook his head. “But it isn’t real.”
“No,” she admitted, then straightened her shoulders and prepared to argue for her happiness. While painting that day, she had considered very carefully what she should say, and now she took a deep breath and made her case. “No, it isn’t real. But ‘tis as real as my life will be if you send me away, Keeran, for I will always, until my death, only be pretending at living without you. I will be a pale portrait of the woman I could be, just as this is only a painting of daylight. There will be no passion, no husband, no family, no love, because none can replace you in my heart. I love you, Keeran. Do not send me away and damn me to a half-life without you.”
“Ah, Emily.” His voice was filled with regret, and she knew what was coming even before he said, “You will forget me. You will—”
“Learn to love another?” Emily interrupted with a sharpness that silenced him. “Do you see me as so fickle? Is my heart so weak and untrue to you? Then allow me to correct this mistaken impression of yours. I will love no other. I shall for the rest of my days sit and recall my time with you. I shall become a lonely old spinster, yearning for a lonely man who hides in his crumbling castle from the love of a woman who would explore the night world at his side and hold him in her heart forever, if only given the chance.”
Dear God. Keeran closed his eyes. She was there, so close he could touch her if he had the courage. She was a flame of vibrant life that had brought laughter and joy to his empty home and light to his eternal night. She had stirred the dead ashes of his heart back to painful life so successfully that it now ached with his love of her. He wanted so badly to keep her with him, but—