The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3)

by Jean Brashear

  So he poured the depths of his anguish into his kiss. He tried to convey to her what she meant to him, when he didn’t have the words. Desperate to keep her safe, worried that he could not, Josh stroked her body with fierce gentleness, sought out her hidden places with tender greed.

  Elena rocked against him as she threaded her fingers in his hair to hold him to her. Her nightgown rode up over her thighs, her heated center rubbed feverishly over his length, brushing the rough denim with her damp curls. She moaned in frustration, wanting to feel him, skin to skin, heart to heart, naked to one another’s eyes.

  Josh, too, seemed almost frantic to touch her everywhere, taste her every curve. Drawing his knees up behind her, he created a backrest, baring her body to his eyes as he drew off her gown. Moonlight silvered her skin, her curves creating valleys of shadow. He thought he’d never seen anyone more beautiful than the dark-eyed goddess before him.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured. “So much that I have wanted…”

  Fiery shivers of delight swept through Elena as Josh worshipped her with soft strokes and heated gazes. Her body craved the feel of him inside her, and her nipples rose under the glory of his hands.

  That hot, delicious mouth covered her cool flesh with moist, suckling warmth. She dug her fingers into the dark thickness of his hair, holding him to her as she would have the babe she’d never been allowed to suckle. Somehow, his touch healed the void that had haunted her for so long.

  Healed her.

  And then enflamed her.

  And she only wanted more, rocking her pelvis, sliding over the hard ridge of him.

  Her hair draped over his legs, and Josh mourned the denim that stood between him and the feel of the long, silken strands. His tongue trailed from one nipple to the outside curve of her other breast, inscribing his need for her on her skin.

  Then he blew softly and watched her nipples pucker. Her back bowed, driving her cleft against him, making him grind his teeth in frustration. He didn’t want to sacrifice one moment of touching her, but there were too many clothes between them.

  “Hold on, love,” he groaned. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently, then stripping himself with reckless haste.

  When he stretched out over her, his hot flesh along the length of her silken skin, both of them sighed in relief.

  “It’s been forever,” he groaned.

  Elena giggled. “It was this morning.”

  He grinned. “Too long for me.”

  Then the white-hot flare of arousal overwhelmed the words to describe it. Their gazes locked upon one another, and silence descended upon them.

  Josh rolled to bring her once again above him, wanting to watch her eyes respond to his caresses. Gripping her hips in his hands, he watched her thighs open to him, felt the sweet, wet silk of her glide over the aching length of him. With a grin of mischief, she slid over him and back. Then again.

  His skull would surely explode if he didn’t get inside her—quick.

  Elena nearly groaned herself. Every teasing motion sent shivers up her spine. Yearning suffused her. Her fingers were cat paws, kneading at his shoulders, flexing as she arched against him. When he reached out to stroke the hidden bud within her damp curls, she sucked in a quick breath of desperation.

  Josh grinned, then closed his eyes, rocking his own hips beneath her and increasing the impact a thousandfold.

  When he opened his eyes again, he clenched his jaw against the wanting. Finally, he lifted her up, teasing her with the head of his shaft. She clamped her fingers upon his forearms, each of them trying to hold off, the anticipation burning them alive.

  Finally—finally, Josh could bear no more, and he thrust hard inside her.

  They moaned in unison.

  Elena licked a slow, hot trail across his lips, by turns soothing and tormenting.

  Josh surged inside her, and she gasped.

  “Elena,” he murmured against her lips. “I burn for you, my love.” With his hand between them, he brought her to scorching completion. Elena’s back bowed and she cried out.

  She bent to him, blindly caressing as her body shuddered in ecstasy and went boneless. When he felt her tears drop upon his face, with one quick motion Josh reversed their positions, desperate to bury his love and longing so deep within her that she would never forget him.

  With her legs wrapped around his waist, the feel of her long, honeyed thighs surrounding him, Josh captured the kisses of the woman he’d never thought to meet. The woman he’d waited a lifetime for…the woman he might lose before they could ever find a way to be together. Not a praying man, Josh Marshall beseeched the heavens not to take her from him, even as he vowed to accompany her to the gates of hell, if need be.

  Exploding in bliss together, the star-crossed lovers drifted as one into the luminous, beautiful place where time is meaningless, and dreams are made real.

  As they fell to earth and reality crept in, Josh closed his arms tightly around the woman so precious to him, trying with all his might to keep the coming darkness at bay.

  “Witch!”

  “Take her from my sight before I kill her,” Sir Richard roared, his countenance black with anger.

  Helen stood her ground, her ramrod-straight back daring him to strike her again. She hoped he could not see her legs quivering with fear.

  “I do not lie, my lord,” she said. “You will die as I have seen, an ugly and ignominious death. I do not imagine these visions, I merely report what I see.”

  Inwardly gloating at his fear, she cast a glance at Iain, whose body strained to leap at his superior, clearly intent upon blocking another blow.

  Do not tempt fate, logic urged. You have seen Iain tortured. You know you will be the instrument. You should never have provoked Sir Richard.

  “My lord,” Iain spoke, his voice tight. Helen could see the effort it cost him to maintain control. “It would go poorly for those in your care, should you bring down the wrath of The Douglas.”

  A loud crash startled them all. Sir Richard had upended the heavy wooden table next to him, scattering mugs and trenchers in the rushes. His visage choleric, Helen wondered if he might meet his demise earlier than she’d thought.

  Turning away, he warned in a dark, savage voice, “Get her out of my sight this very instant. I will deal with her on the morrow.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Iain grated, grasping her arm none too lightly.

  As they ascended the stairs, Helen tried to shake him off, as angered by him as by his lord. She opened her mouth to chide him for holding her too tightly.

  “Do not,” he ordered, jaws flexing. “Do not say a word. You have done enough damage.”

  When they reached her chamber, he closed the door behind them and shot the bolt. She whirled, pointing to the door.

  “You cannot stay in here without chaperonage.”

  He advanced upon her, his visage darkening. “Lady, I think you have not truly considered the danger in which you have placed yourself with your defiance and your notion that you can divine the future.”

  Her chin came up. “I do see the future, and none can gainsay me.” A sudden memory of him, whipped and bleeding, shamed her, that she could forget the price he might pay for her temper and lack of restraint. She dropped her gaze to the floor.

  “We do not have much time. Pack nothing but wear everything you can to keep warm,” he ordered. “I will come for you tonight. Be ready.”

  “You can’t—” she protested.

  He turned back toward her and closed the distance between them. One eyebrow raised, he pinned her with that green gaze. “I cannot?”

  He leaned down, a mere breath away, murmuring, “Ah, lady, you have no idea what I dare do.” With that, he captured her mouth in a kiss that brought her to her tiptoes in longing.

  Never…never had she been kissed before by other than a relative.

  Never…never again would she be the same person. Iain had shown her a universe she never dreamed existed.
As his arms closed around her, hugging her to his broad chest so closely that she felt his desire between them, Helen lost all ability to think.

  She merely felt, only burned…simply desired, in a mindless rush toward something she couldn’t quite see.

  Then the edges of her vision darkened, the unique light of the Sight blazing, and she saw another face leaning over her with troubled eyes. She almost felt the touch of another hand… another set of lips…and once-laughing, now-sad green eyes. Moonlight silvered the bedclothes in a room with walls of honey gold. That man reached out to her, entwining in her mind with this one.

  Then the sickening vision of a dagger descending toward Iain’s back burst into her brain, and Helen felt the chill of death strike her soul.

  Elena sat up in the bed, her heart pounding. She ran her fingers through her sweat-dampened hair as she tried to catch her breath. Terror coursed through her veins; she looked around, trying to remember where she was.

  Josh.

  Feeling his warmth beside her, she looked over to be sure he was all right. She exhaled in relief.

  He slept deeply, bronzed chest above the quilt rising and falling steadily. The well-muscled arms that had held her so close lay quietly at his sides. His hair was tousled, his handsome face relaxed and younger.

  She itched to touch him and assure herself that he was well. To let him soothe her, tell her that everything was fine.

  But it wasn’t fine. She wasn’t sure it would ever be fine again.

  Knowing she would not sleep, she slipped quietly from the bed, donning her nightgown and pulling on Josh’s flannel shirt over it. She made her way out the door without disturbing him and wandered down the hall and through the living room, needing the cool, crisp night air to clear out her fears.

  The instant she stepped out on the porch, she saw she was not alone. Quinn sat in a chair near the porch rail.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked gently.

  She shook her head. “How about you?”

  He exhaled roughly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve…had trouble sleeping.”

  She looked at him in sympathy. “One of the visions Josh told me about?”

  In the moonlight, she could see his surprise. “He told you?”

  She nodded. “Are they…is it painful?”

  “Not unless you count feeling darkness and evil around those you love painful.”

  Elena couldn’t help her indrawn breath. “Is it Josh?” She waited in terror of his answer.

  “It might be nothing. Don’t worry yourself about it. You have plenty of other things on your mind.”

  She stared out into the darkness, unsure what to say.

  “Elena?” He paused. “Is there something I should know?”

  She turned toward him, uncertain but realizing that this man might be the best person to help her understand what she’d seen.

  “I…have these dreams.” She paused, not sure how to describe them. “It almost feels like Josh is in them, but I can’t usually remember anything but his green eyes.”

  “Have you had them long?”

  She shook her head. “I do feel the emotions of people who touch me, but this never happened until I met him. Now they’re coming more frequently, and tonight—”

  His voice gentle, he nudged. “Tonight, what?”

  She swallowed around a lump in her throat. “The feeling I get is so familiar, almost like I’ve been there before or something…” She shook her head, trying to make sense of it. “Tonight, there was a man who seemed so…evil…and then…there’s this man named Iain and when he kissed me…” Her forehead wrinkled. “It felt like Josh’s kiss.” She looked away, embarrassed to be rambling so. “It sounds ridiculous, I know. It’s only a weird nightmare. This Iain didn’t look anything like Josh, except for his eyes.”

  A long silence ensued. Finally, she looked up to see Quinn staring, deep in thought. A tremor ran down her spine, and she huddled in her chair.

  “Elena,” he began. “Has Josh told you about the old woman?”

  “What old woman? You mean Tía?”

  Obviously warring with himself, Quinn leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. “No. A seer sought him out in L.A. and told him that his soulmate was in danger and needed his help.”

  Elena couldn’t help shivering. Barely whispering, she asked, “Did he believe her?”

  Quinn smiled ruefully. “My brother is a very pragmatic man. He has a hard time believing in anything he can’t see or touch. He doesn’t doubt my abilities or those of my grandmother because he’s seen them in action, but that doesn’t mean he believes in such things for himself.” He reached out and patted her hand. “But even he can’t explain the strong bond he feels with you. I think it’s shaken him more than he wants to admit.”

  “I can’t blame him. I’m not really his type, am I?”

  Quinn chuckled and shook his head. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not the best thing that ever happened to him.”

  “Quinn, I’m so afraid for him. My dreams are filled with danger, and he’s so determined to go with me to face Richard. I keep dreaming of Josh—I mean, Iain—being whipped and blood running down his back.” Then she smiled ruefully. “But none of that can be real.”

  He looked at her thoughtfully. “I’d like to try something. I can’t promise it will work, but maybe we can get closer to some answers. Do you trust me?”

  She nodded. “I’d do anything to protect Josh. I’m terrified of what will happen to him. Of what these dreams mean.”

  “It won’t be easy for you if we try this,” Quinn warned.

  Elena couldn’t quell a shiver of fear, but she would not back down. “In my dreams, Iain was murdered by a dagger in the back.” She let her despair show. “Somehow…I know it was my fault.”

  Quinn’s sudden indrawn breath caught her attention.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Elena…” Quinn clasped her shoulder. “The old woman told Josh that he had sacrificed his life for love in that other time.”

  He was silent for a moment.

  “I hope to God that what I’m sensing is wrong…but I feel great danger to him, too, and I’ve never seen the past.” Quinn paused, then pinned her with his stare. “Only the present or…the future.”

  Lorie joined them in the room she used to see the patients for whom she cared as a midwife. Even tousled and sleepy, she was still breathtaking in her beauty.

  “This could have waited until morning,” Elena apologized.

  Lorie placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m accustomed to being awakened at odd hours by my patients. Don’t worry about it,” she soothed. “Besides, if Quinn says it’s important, there’s no way I would wait. Josh is too important to all of us.”

  “But it’s all so…crazy. Why would you believe me? I don’t believe me.”

  “Quinn doesn’t have these feelings often. It’s wise to pay attention when he does. Both Grant and I might be dead now if it were not for him and his visions.” She cast a loving glance at her husband, who placed a tender kiss on the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing tightly.

  Elena felt at once warmed and envious. To have such a love…

  Lorie stirred. “Lie down here, Elena, if you don’t mind.” She pointed toward a simple bed, on each side of which was a table with candles and fragrant herbs. Above the bed and on each wall of the room were paintings of a rare power and mystery. Each was highly symbolic and yet oddly evocative of moods ranging from joyful to longing.

  Elena couldn’t take her eyes off the one across from her. A dreamy, soft tone suggested other worlds and other times, yet patches of vibrant color all but throbbed at its center, where a red and gold Aztec serpent coiled its length around an almost gossamer turquoise Earth. Silvery clouds trailed over midnight blue space, sprinkled with stars, some purest white, some pulsing golden red at their centers. The feeling was one of a world made small by the grandeur and mystery around it, yet crad
led in the hold of a mighty force. Elena was transfixed by its power.

  Lorie moved around the room, lighting candles and fragrant herbs in simmering pots. The room held a special kind of peace that Elena had never felt before. The closest comparison was to the peace of the tiny church that had been her only refuge during her years with Rich.

  Lorie cast a glance at her. “It’s not quite like the room that Tía has in which she treats her patients, but I adapted my own after studying under her for a long while.”

  “Elena,” Quinn’s deep voice commanded softly. “I want you to close your eyes and take a deep breath. I’m going to hold your hand, and I want you to look for the place inside you where you feel most at peace.”

  Elena breathed in deeply, the atmosphere in the room calming her in spite of her worry for Josh and her anxiety over what was happening at home.

  “That’s good,” Quinn offered. “Now, continue taking deep breaths, but I want you to visualize that you are in the most peaceful place you’ve ever seen or imagined. You’re completely safe. Nothing at all can harm you or those you love.

  “Breathe deeply, all the way from your toes. Imagine the breath traveling up through the inside of your body until it rises to your head and is drawn outward to join with the luminous energy of the universe.”

  Elena could almost feel her soul expanding. She smelled a bouquet of scents she couldn’t identify. A whisper of a breeze flowed over her body, from foot to head, over and over.

  “All your fears are now brushed aside. They cannot harm you. When you must deal with them later, you will find the strength within to handle them, but for now, they are locked away and cannot touch you.”

  Quinn’s voice had a hypnotic, dreamy effect upon her. She could barely feel the bed beneath her. Quinn’s warm hand was her only constant. An energy flowed from him through her, calming and strengthening her. She felt more…powerful.

  “You can safely walk back into that place where you have been with…Iain,” he said.

  Suddenly, it was as if a door had opened, and she stood outside it. Within, as if in a movie, she saw a tall, elegant woman and the man she recognized as Iain, moving with stealth down a darkened stairway.