Oh, she remembered it all.
She remembered her life as a Connacht princess, and living on the run for the next few weeks with her Viking protector. She remembered the journey to his home—here on Inis Mór—and the burial of his younger brother. She remembered marrying Dægan before Irish and Norse witnesses at Dún Aonghasa and consummating their union in his longhouse near the beach. Of all the things she wished she could forget, she remembered his tragic death in her arms.
Every aspect of her previous life, good and bad, had come back to her as if it happened yesterday. Her past was no longer an obscure parapsychological phantasm, but an ever-lucid, mind-blowing memory. She was Mara, reincarnated.
“Ms. O’Connor?” the doctor intervened.
She looked between Dr. O’Donnell and Leif. Knowing they were likely gauging her for symptoms of insanity, she dared not say anything incriminating. “I don’t know. It’s all so…” She pretended to try to search for words.
“Don’t try to force it,” the doctor soothed. “It’s likely not to come back to you. When a person suffers a concussion, their short-term memory is often affected.” Dr. O’Donnell turned to Leif. “When did you say she fell?”
“Two days ago.”
“Hmm.”
“Actually,” Leif corrected, counting in his head. “It was less than two days. More like thirty-two hours.”
“So, that means we’re still within the transitory forty-eight hour period where anything is possible.”
“What do you mean anything is possible?”
“I mean that dizziness, nausea, memory loss, confusion, and hallucinations are not out of the ordinary. Add a concussion on top of desynchronosis, and you’re bound to acquire some sort of anxiety, irritability, insomnia, and even coordination problems.” He patted Leif’s knee and stood from the bed. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Her pupils are reactive, her hematoma is unchanged, and her color is good. I think she just needs some rest.” The doctor shot Leif a look as if he knew about their late-night love making. “I mean it, son. Let the woman rest.”
Leif scratched his head self-consciously. “Right. Just send the bill.”
The doctor didn’t wait to be let out and closed the door behind him.
Leif hung his head and sighed. “Thank God you’re all right.”
Lorraine sat up in the bed, rejuvenated. She cupped his cheek, amazed that her Dægan sat before her. Alive and well. She gazed into Leif’s tired eyes. She’d seen that look before. Centuries ago after he’d gallantly crossed over mountains and seas to save her from his malicious twin brother. He had looked so exhausted and drained from the mental stress he put on himself. She pitied him then and she pitied him now.
She may not have been in any grave danger or ominous peril when she blacked out on the floor of his guest room, but he still looked the part. Little did Leif know, she’d been given a gift. The gift of remembering her life as a tenth century Irish princess, in love for the first time, and being reunited with that very man in present time.
Happier than she’d ever been, she stroked Leif’s cheek. “You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m fine.”
Leif laughed. “Where have I heard that before?
“I know it’s hard to believe,” she tried to explain, “But whatever I did tonight, will not happen again. I’m sure of it.”
His face fell out of a smile and grew somber. “What did happen tonight? From what I saw, you found my birthmark and freaked out. Is it that hideous?”
“Birthmark? That’s what it is?”
“Since I came out of my mother’s womb,” he said matter-of-factly. “She wanted to have a plastic surgeon fix it, but my father refused. He said God put it there for a reason and we shouldn’t mess with what His hands have sculpted. So, it stayed.”
She glanced down at his thigh, recalling the mark hidden behind his jeans. “May I see it again?”
Leif glanced away. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Please.”
“With all due respect, Rain, I’m not in the mood to be a circus act.”
Lorraine grabbed his wrist, keeping him from leaving. “I think it’s a beautiful birthmark.”
“So beautiful you crawled away in fright?”
Lorraine had no idea how to explain herself without making things worse. She had to speak carefully else she feared she’d lose him. “Actually, your birthmark helped me to feel relieved. Years ago, I was taken by a man—”
“Kidnapped?”
“You could say that,” she said, biting her lip. “The man who saved me had a mark across his leg, just like you. I’ll never forget what it looked like.”
“And seeing mine triggered those bad memories,” he finished for her.
“Well, they weren’t all bad. The brave man did save me.”
Leif lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Another lovely cliché to add to our collection. The only one we’re missing is ‘and they lived happily ever after.’”
They gazed into each other’s eyes, an unspoken bond securing the two as if they’d found the other half of their soul and couldn’t live another day without it.
“Will you hold me, Leif? I don’t want to sleep alone.”
He smiled. “I refuse to lie without you tonight, love.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Leif?” Kristoff called, opening the door and leaning inside. “You home?”
When silence answered back, he stepped into the cottage and called again. This time loud enough to wake the dead, just for good measure.
“Well, what do we have here?” he said, taking notice of the trail of clothes left on the floor leading down the hall. Picking up what seemed to be a feminine shirt, he followed the path until he found a lacy article of clothing. Ditching the boring shirt for the more interesting item, he held it up, examining every aspect of the intimate apparel. He announced his approval. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about, Leif!”
The guest room door flew open. Leif’s eyes were bloodshot and furious as he gripped the frame. Seeing Rain’s bra twirling about on his brother’s finger, he burst into the hallway and snatched it from him. “Have you no couth?”
Kristoff ignored him, his eyes lighting up as he peeked around Leif’s shoulder. “She still in there? Naked?”
Irritated, Leif shut the door and dragged Kristoff into the kitchen, hitting him upside the head. “What the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you at least act your age?”
“Hey, they say you’re only as old as you feel.”
“That explains your latent bed-wetting.” Leif stuffed Lorraine’s bra into his back jeans pocket and started making coffee. He filled the glass pitcher with water and swore he’d just closed his eyes when his brother rudely awakened him. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“We planned on working on the boat today, remember?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Leif recalled their conversation a few days ago. Hand hewing planks of wood for Kristoff’s hobby project was not something he cared to tackle this morning. “Does it have to be today?”
“Yes, it has to be today,” Kristoff repeated, planting his bottom in the closest kitchen chair. “I’m booked solid all week and this is the only day I’m free.”
Leif looked over his shoulder. “Does that mean you won’t be attending my birthday celebration at Joe Watty’s?”
Kristoff laughed, hearing the sarcastic emphasis he laid on the bogus birthday celebration. “That was quick thinking wasn’t it?”
Leif spooned in an additional scoop of grounds. He knew he was going to need it. “I would have rather you stayed out of it.”
“Oh, come on. You know we would have been there anyway to celebrate your birthday so it wasn’t a total lie. It’s just a little sooner than we thought.”
Leif leaned against his counter and crossed his arms. “So, how’s the party plans coming? Have our imaginary guests RSVP’ed yet?”
“Actually, t
hey have. I put a call into Willie and Karen and they said they’d try to make it. Mícheál and Catharina are in town. They said they’d swing by. Oh, and remember John and Kevy from Fretwear? They agreed to lug the ol’ flat box down from Belfast and kick out a few Tommy Emmanuel tunes.
Leif shook his head. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“You fall in a pile of shit and come out smelling like a rose, that’s what.”
“What can I say? No one can say ‘no’ to this face.”
“I can.” Leif grabbed two mugs from his cabinet. “And I’m telling you ‘no’ right now. I’m not working on that bloody boat today.”
“Why not?”
“’Cause I’m tired.”
Kristoff threw him an incorrigible look. “Lorraine kept you up all night, huh?”
Leif sighed and glanced at the slow stream of liquid energy dripping from his coffee maker. Kristoff was not going to let up. “We had a really nice ride yesterday and before we knew it, it was late. Neither of us was ready to say goodnight.”
“I’ll bet.”
“There’s nothing wrong with two people enjoying each other’s company, Kristoff.”
“Ah, but in how many positions did you enjoy her?”
Leif growled, giving his brother his back.
“Please tell me you ventured a little and at least tried two.”
Leif had no idea why he even attempted to have a decent conversation with Kristoff. Immaturity was his brother’s downfall and always would be. It’s no wonder he never had a steady girlfriend.
“Three?”
“Kristoff—”
“Four? Oh, you were on a roll!”
Leif fisted his hand on the counter. “Kristoff, shut up before I throw you out of my house.”
“Come on, I just want a little sliver of detail. We’re brothers.”
“Exactly,” Leif agreed. “What if one day she’s your sister-in-law? Morally, her brother-in-law shouldn’t want to know those kinds of details.”
“Whoa, whoa, did you just mention…” His face scrunched up as if he had an awful taste in his mouth. “Marriage?”
“No.”
“Yes you did,” his brother argued.
Leif paused, tracing his words. “I was speaking hypothetically.”
“You were speaking as though you had your whole life planned out with this woman, whom you only met two days ago.”
Leif’s first inclination was to dispute the preposterous allegations. He was not planning his life with Lorraine, nor was he thinking about marriage. Committed relationships did not go hand-in-hand with historical archeology. Both required a strict obligation of time and dedication, and if one side demanded more of either disciplines, the other would inevitably suffer. Sustaining a healthy relationship in his field was nigh on impossible.
Deep in thought, he methodically reached for the coffee pot and poured two cups. Something about living out his natural life with Lorraine felt right. With her, nothing seemed out of place or complicated. It should be complicated, he thought, especially after finding out she’d been traumatized early in life and had the baggage of a cheating ex-fiancé to lug around.
“Bloody hell, Leif. You’re actually giving this thought?”
Leif looked up from his coffee cup, finding Kristoff in his face and drinking from the mug he poured for Lorraine. “That wasn’t for you.”
“Are you listening to anything I’ve said?” Kristoff asked, holding the cup out of Leif’s reach. “You cannot marry this woman. You don’t know her.”
“Yeah, you’re right, ‘cause clearly you know what’s best for me.”
Kristoff took a huge gulp of coffee and swallowed quickly. “Damn right I do. I’m your brother. I know you better than anyone.” He peered into his cup, frowning. “Bloody hell, this coffee can walk it’s so strong.”
Leif rolled his eyes and retrieved another mug from the cabinet. “You may be my brother, but you don’t know me as well as you think. Heck, you don’t even know where our ancestors originally came from, but she does.”
“Trondheim.”
“Nope,” he articulated, pouring another cup. “Trondheim is what it’s called now, but before nine ninety A.D. it was in the vicinity of Hladir.”
“What the hell does that have to do with the price of tea in China?”
“All I’m saying is you haven’t the faintest idea what makes me tick.”
“Because she rides horses and sucks you off the way you like and suddenly she knows what makes you tick?”
Leif opened his mouth and closed it again, heat prickling up the back of his neck. He wanted to smack the mug from his brother’s hand and punch him square in the face for his snide little comment, but he didn’t. “I’m done with this conversation.” Focusing on the task at hand, he prepared Rain’s coffee the way she liked it, lots of cream and sugar.
Kristoff eased up. “Hey, look. I didn’t mean to insult her. I like her. She seems like a great girl. I just don’t think you need to rush into anything.” He took another generous swig and grimaced. “Sonofabitch, do you drink your coffee like this all the time? I can hardly drink this shit.”
“I put in an extra scoop today and, if you continue to barge into my house, I believe I will from now on.” He stole the mug from Kristoff’s hands and dumped it out in the sink.
“Ach, you’d miss me after awhile,” Kristoff said, opening the fridge. He pulled out a carton of eggs, a block of cheese, and milk, setting all the ingredients on the counter.
“What are you doing?”
“Making us some breakfast. After having your coffee, I’m sure as hell not eating your eggs.”
Leif dragged his hand down his face. “Did it ever occur to you I have company?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make her some too. I’m not that rude.”
Irritated, Leif grabbed the two coffee mugs and turned on his heels, eager to get away from his brother, only to almost barrel into Lorraine. He swiftly backed up, compensating for the shift in the sloshing coffee. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were awake.”
His eyes fell over her bare shapely legs sticking out from under his T-shirt. Knowing she didn’t have underwear on—because he tore them off her last night—he enjoyed the endearing way she crossed her knees and pulled the shirt lower upon finding Kristoff in the kitchen.
Nervously, she gazed between the two men. “Oh, I didn’t know—”
“It’s okay, he’s leaving.”
Kristoff made sure to blow holes into his statement by cracking the first egg into a skillet. “I’m making breakfast, actually. Want some?”
Leif handed her a cup of coffee with a look of apology. “He does make good eggs.”
Lorraine took the first sip of her coffee, still pulling the shirt down her thighs and smiled. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m gonna head on out.”
Leif had a hard time hiding his disappointment. “You don’t have to leave. I can use force to get him out.”
“Oh, no I—”
“Please, Rain,” Leif begged, closing his eyes. “Please, make me use force on my brother. I’ll feel so much better.”
Her giggle sent him through the clouds. The sparkle in her eyes made him forget Kristoff completely. The charming way she wrapped both hands around her cup while sipping melted him into a hopeless puddle of I’m-so-smitten sauce.
“I should go,” she said again, setting her cup on the table. She tilted her head and threw her eyes to the side, directing him out of the kitchen.
Leif ushered her down the hall, automatically reaching for her. “I can make him leave.” Threading his fingers in hers, he braced their clenched hand above her head and leaned in. “Just say the word and he’s gone.”
She took a slow deep breath as if to contemplate his suggestion. “I have things I need to do.”
“Like what?” he asked, nuzzling her.
“Like charge my phone, in case I need it later today.”
“Ch
arge it here.” He knew he was being overly persistent, but the knowledge of his shirt being the only thing standing between him and her naked body taunted him. The sound of her heated whisper chasing his didn’t help matters either.
“I would, but my charger is in my suitcase along with the converter.”
“I’ll send Kristoff up the road for it. Kill two birds with one stone.”
She giggled softly in his ear. “You want Kristoff snooping around in my suitcase where all the rest of my bras and panties are?”
He groaned. “Then I’ll fetch it. I owe you anyway for destroying one of those said items last night.”
She kissed his neck, her lips lighting his whole body afire. “I appreciate it, but I really need to call home. My phone is dead and, by now, Patrick’s probably conjured up all kinds of worse case scenarios as to why he can’t reach me. Plus, I want to run into Kilronan and buy one of those Aran sweaters. I’ve always wanted one.”
Leif exhaled and dropped their hands, stepping back. He knew when he’d beat a dead horse long enough. He took a sip of his coffee and looked her over one last time. “Need a lift into town?”
“Nah, I’ll do what everyone else does. Rent a bike or something.”
“Are you sure you feel well enough?” he worried. “I don’t like sending you off by yourself after last night.”
“I promise. I feel wonderful.”
He didn’t push the issue, trying to take her at her word. “Can I see you tonight?”
“I’d like that.”
“I can pick you up for dinner,” he suggested coolly.
Lorraine neared him and drew her hand down his bare chest, her fingers plotting imaginary designs around his nipples as she laid out her plans. “How about I cook dinner for you? Here. I’ll make sure to bring a change of clothes.”
His heart leapt. “I like the sound of that.”
“I’ll swing by around seven?”
Leif thought of his brother’s high hopes of working on the boat today. It looked as if he’d have time after all. “Seven’s good.”
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, the taste of rich coffee, sweet sugar, and ripe feminine lust abundant on her lips. It took everything he had to let her pull away, to not seize her body and crush her mouth with his. He swallowed his urge and remained glued to her every move, watching her hand skim across his waist until it disappeared behind his back. Smiling up at him, he felt her pull the bra from his back pocket.
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