’Twas so very, very beauteous.
Just like the lady herself. Niall swallowed, the weight of his pledge heavy on his shoulders.
He much preferred to think about Viviane’s bare flesh. Indeed, he was certain her breast must be soft and sweetly scented, perhaps even more so than her delightful kiss.
But he knew what he should do. His hand lifted but hesitated before him instead of moving decisively toward the pendant. Caught between desire and duty, Niall closed his eyes and reached, trusting Fate to guide his hand.
And Fate, as she has oft been known to do, betrayed him.
Niall’s fingertips brushed over the ripe curve of Viviane’s breast and she sighed contentment. She arched against the roughness of his hand like a demanding cat and Niall could not help but close his hand over her. Her jutting breast fit perfectly beneath his palm, tempting his fingers to curve around its softness. His gaze slid to her mouth in time to watch the tip of her tongue appear between her parted lips and his desire raged like an inferno.
Just one more kiss, Niall insisted to himself.
And then he would do his duty.
Niall’s thumb slid leisurely across that nipple, and it tightened to attention. He bent without a moment’s pause, cupping her breast in his hand and ducking his head to kiss that errant mole, then moving across the warmth of her flesh to take the pert nipple in his mouth.
Viviane’s eyes flew open when his breath slid across her skin. Niall halted as though caught at a crime. The sleepy scent of her inundated him and curled his toes, time stood still while the lady leisurely opened her eyes.
This was it. Niall feared anew that Viviane would chastise him for his familiarity. If naught else, she would scream and shout. She would clutch the gem and flee his side, leaving him alone in this place. Worse, she might weep! Niall’s gut clenched.
But all the same, he could not willingly move away.
To his astonishment, Viviane smiled, confounding his expectation yet again.
“Good morning,” she murmured, a welcoming glow taking up residence in the depths of her eyes. Her smile widened and that dimple appeared in her cheek. Her fingertips brushed his jaw, wonder dawning in those marvelous eyes. “So, I didn’t dream you after all,” she murmured and the thunder of Niall’s pulse drowned on the pounding between his ears.
He found himself smiling back at her, filled with a sense of potency that he had not known in years. Her hand fell on the back of his neck, her fingers curled into his hair and she urged him back toward her breast.
Niall could not resist. He let his thumb move across her nipple again, savoring how she gasped when the roughness of his skin snared that turgid peak. Viviane fell back against the pillows, arching her back as she clenched his hair. She gasped and writhed, her delight making Niall want only to please her more. He bent to suckle her.
He began gently, loving how she moaned when he flicked the peak with the tip of his tongue. Her immediate response fed his own desire, the silky warmth of her skin prompted his fingers to drift ever lower and lower in exploration. She was lean and long, all supple curves and satiny skin, soft and feminine and seductive.
And she desired him. The way Viviane moaned in pleasure and stirred beneath Niall’s touch fed a newfound confidence in his own allure, a confidence that had been shattered along with his knee and his knightly life.
If this was the magic she wrought, Niall only wanted more. He wanted to please her in exchange for this feeling she gave him, to make her cry out and scream aloud.
Niall knew that he would have to fulfill the quest he had begun. He knew this and he deliberately forgot, pushing everything from his thoughts to focus solely on Viviane and her pleasure. He knew that he had never felt this way with a woman before, be there a spell cast or nay.
He knew without a shred of doubt that he would never forget her.
’Twould have to be enough.
Niall caressed the indent of each rib, he flattened his hand to slide his palm across her belly, he gripped the curve of her hip possessively. His other hand slipped beneath her, lifting her breast to his hunger as he feasted upon her. He gently grazed his teeth across that nipple, then laved his attention upon its partner, his every touch making Viviane writhe.
He trailed kisses up the length of Viviane’s throat, he kissed the wild pulse visible beneath the creamy perfection of her flesh. He kissed those moles, drawing a line between them with his tongue and blowing softly upon it, making her shiver with delight. Viviane locked her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, her kiss filled with all the urgency that Niall felt.
His tongue slipped between her teeth, he swallowed her sigh, his fingers dipped into the slick mystery between her thighs. He cupped her head in his hand and kissed her thoroughly as his fingers coaxed her response. He watched the flush rise over her flesh, the glitter of desire dawn in her eyes. Viviane twisted beneath his touch, but he granted her no escape, teasing her, drawing her further, urging her to the heights.
And when she cried out, her fingers clutching him, Niall swallowed the sound of her release greedily and held her while she trembled in its wake. She whispered something he did not catch, then her lashes fluttered to her cheeks again. She sighed and cuddled closer to him, a smile of contentment curving her lips as her breathing deepened.
Yet again, she slept against him, her legs entangled with his, her trust in him complete. A nigh unbearable sweetness flooded through Niall before practicality checked its course.
Indeed, his bile rose that the lady should have judged his intent so wrong. He was a knave of the lowest order to have fed her illusion. He was a liar and a thief, for ’twould be Niall who stole this woman’s life and freedom away from her.
He felt suddenly dirty, unworthy of sheltering her sweetness against his chest.
Niall rolled abruptly from the bed and put the width of the room between them. He shoved a hand through his hair and scowled, then turned back in time to see Viviane settle into the warm hollow he had left. His heart contracted painfully and he could not stop himself from stepping closer, if only to gaze upon her.
The cursed moonstone glinted at him as he drew near, rising and falling on the lady’s breast as she dozed, a tangible reminder of his pledge. Niall knew what he should do, just as he knew that in this moment, he could not do it.
One fall had indeed made him soft.
Niall swore under his breath, spun and snatched up the red shirt of Kissing Derek. He hauled it over his head and made impatiently for the door.
’Twas just the call of nature clouding his thoughts. Aye, that was the way of it. He had need of a garderobe, ’twas no more than that.
Then Niall would keep his word.
*
Barb plugged in the kettle, chose Lemon Zinger from her array of herbal teas and yawned mightily as she waited for the water to boil. She leaned one hip against the counter and rubbed her eyes sleepily. Another day, another dollar.
Another day older and deeper in debt, more like it.
Her laugh was more of a snort. She wasn’t going to think about Payables so early in the morning when they’d kept her up half the night already. She deliberately went to the window, trying to let the gentle sprinkle of the morning rain calm her with its soothing echo on the roof.
Barb loved the patter of falling water. She closed her eyes and listened to the rain hitting the glass, feeling as though the sound alone could ease all the kinks out of her neck and straighten out all the tangles in her thoughts.
One of these days, she really had to get that garden planted. Barb could see it in her mind’s eye, her imagination helped by the pages of the horticulture magazines she dutifully earmarked and piled on her nightstand. There would be a little fountain splashing into a pond ringed by irises and lilies. The garden would be filled with private shadows, a world apart from everything else. It would be Barb’s own haven to retreat from the world, close her eyes and listen to the splash of water.
One of these days,
she would work less and play more.
But not anytime soon. Barb heaved a sigh and admitted that planting a single Siberian Iris hadn’t been much of a start or an inspiration. It was probably a bad omen that the reputably tough plant had shown itself discontent with Barb’s garden.
The withered little thing couldn’t be said to be thriving.
Barb looked ruefully in the direction of the little cluster of iris leaves, hoping that the plant had made a miraculous recovery in the face of adversity. That was something she was going to have to do with the shop and she could use a mascot.
But the plant wasn’t any better. And how could it be? There was a great big blond guy peeing on it!
Barb was out the door in a flash, scooping up a loose sneaker on her way. “Hey!” she bellowed, not caring about he early hour or the sleeping habits of her neighbors. “Hey, you! What do you think you’re doing?”
The man seemed intent on finishing what he had begun. His head moved slightly, but he didn’t turn, the yellow stream running unrestrained on the defenseless iris.
Well, it wasn’t completely defenseless. Barb chucked her shoe at the guy’s head and hit him squarely in the back of the neck. He jumped in a most satisfactory manner and the stream was momentarily dammed.
Ha! Barb bunched up her bathrobe in both hands and marched across the wet grass to do battle.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” she raged. “It’s bad enough that I have to pick up after everyone’s cats, but I will not tolerate human waste in my garden!”
The man turned, his manner that of a monarch acknowledging the lowest serf of his realm. He glanced skeptically across the weed-infested stretch of greenery that some – specifically Barb – generously called a lawn.
“Nay, this can be no garden,” he said evenly.
Barb’s eyes widened when she saw that he was only wearing a T-shirt. She didn’t want to look, but it was hard not to notice exactly where the hem ended.
And what was right below.
Even looking past that didn’t help when the guy had the legs of a gladiator. He propped his hands on his hips, his move mercifully driving Barb’s gaze upward, and she felt relieved only when she met the keen green of his eyes.
There was a hunk pissing in her yard.
Barb felt suddenly very withered. It had been a while since she had had – or even wanted – a man in her bed, but the sight of pure beefcake half-naked, up close and personal, awakened a few forgotten urges.
Unwelcome urges, to boot.
Barb folded her arms across her chest and glared at the intruder, doing her best impression of a woman unaffected by his actor looks. “It is a garden. It’s my garden and you’re pissing on the only flower in it.”
He looked back at the iris, which didn’t make much of a proud showing. “This would be a flower you hold in esteem?” he asked with a point of one finger.
Barb lifted her chin and changed tacks, figuring that a good offense was better than a poor defense. “Haven’t you ever heard of a toilet? Or are you one of those biker-hiker kids who crashed drunk on the beach?”
He didn’t look like much of a kid, but then, lots of men never passed the intellectual age of two.
Barb glanced at those legs again without intending to do so.
But most got stuck at sixteen.
She shook a finger at him. “If you think you can sleep outside, then come hang around her, using my garden as a toilet, then hoping for a meal like all those other eco-tourist bums, you’ve got another think coming.”
“I did not slumber outside.” His gaze strayed to the second story of the house – the room over the shop – and Barb suddenly had a very good idea where he had crashed.
The accent should have given her a clue.
“Don’t tell me.” She held up a hand. “You’re a friend of Viviane’s.”
His gaze met hers once again. “’Twas Viviane who welcomed me to her bed last eve.”
Oh boy. That was more information than she needed.
“Well, there’s a toilet up there and I’d appreciate your using it,” Barb snapped. “However long you’re staying.” She turned and strode back to the door, glancing back to find that he had picked up her shoe. He was looking at it as though it was an enchanted slipper or something, instead of just a plain worn red Ked. “And you can tell Viviane that the rent’s for one, not two. If you’re staying, then we’ll have to talk.”
His expression turned grim. “That should not be a consideration. I do not intend to linger long.”
Well, wasn’t that typical? They really were all the same. Barb contented herself with a shrug and retreated to her chaste kitchen where the kettle was whistling merrily away.
For the first time since she had bought this place, the floral wallpaper border annoyed her. It made the room look so exclusively feminine, as though it would tattle to anyone who listened that no man had ever crossed its threshold.
Which was exactly how Barb wanted her life to be. She mutinously poured a steaming mug of tea and sipped it so quickly that she burned her tongue.
She stiffened when she heard the back door open and knew that the half-naked man was coming into her house. He was going to chase her into her kitchen, Barb just knew it, and she could make a pretty good guess of what would happen after that.
Or what he would try to make happen. Oh, it had been a long time since she’d had the chance to set a man straight about how irresistible he supposedly was, and she’d thought of a lot more compelling arguments since that last one.
She braced herself and turned, a warrior princess at the ready for anything at all.
Except for what did happen. The clear sound of a shoe dropping onto the mat echoed through the little hall. The door closed with a resolute click and Naked Man’s footsteps faded away. The faint creak of Viviane’s separate entrance opening, then closing again, was barely audible beneath the whisper of the rain.
Barb leaned against the counter one more time, sipping Lemon Zinger that wasn’t quite steeped without even tasting as much. She couldn’t be feeling disappointed. The last thing she wanted was a guy, particularly one who had been with Viviane just the night before.
No, what she felt was a yearning, a sense of incompleteness that she’d been ignoring for a long time. She stared through the rain-streaked window at the swordlike leaves of the iris and felt a sudden sympathy for it. They were both vulnerable – lonely, wounded, but making a good show of doing just fine.
Barb frowned and decided she just hadn’t had enough sleep.
And that was mucking with her mind. By Goddess, she was happy here and that was all there was to it. She’d made her choices and hoed her own row, and she’d be damned to hell and back before she admitted that there was a single thing wrong with the life she’d chosen.
Barb put her mug down with a thump. She gave herself a shake and strode to her own bathroom. What she needed was a good hot shower, and some revenue rolling in the door.
She certainly wasn’t going to think about what kind of rolling was going on in her rental until right now. Now way, no how.
She’d much rather think about Payables.
*
Chapter Seven
Viviane awakened with a smile. She snuggled deeper into the sheets, taking an intoxicatingly deep breath of Niall’s scent lingering there and sighed contentment. Her knight had come, he was more than even she had dreamed he would be and everything was going to work out beautifully.
Her smile broadened in recollection of Niall’s gentle touch, the way he leaned over her, the way his eyes darkened as he gave her pleasure, and she shivered with delight. She had never guessed she could feel that way, but her knight had given her the gift of it.
Everything was just perfect.
Well, not quite everything. Viviane reached one hand across the mattress and found herself alone.
Her eyes flew open, but Niall was nowhere in sight. Viviane sat up and pushed her hair back, wondering where he could have
gone.
And why. Surely he wasn’t gone, surely she hadn’t just dreamed him up? Her imagination could get away from her, that was for sure, and Viviane nibbled her lip in consternation.
Then she saw the shorts Derek had loaned to Niall, crumpled in a pile on the floor. She sighed with relief, knowing he couldn’t be far. Maybe he was going to bring her a surprise. Maybe he was going to come back to bed and seduce her all day long.
Maybe he hadn’t expected her to awaken so soon. Viviane smiled and hugged her knees in anticipation.
But nothing happened.
She listened, but Niall wasn’t in the bathroom. Hers wasn’t a room filled with secretive corners and she could see it all from here. Niall wasn’t present. The house was quiet, so Viviane rolled out of bed. She folded her arms across her nakedness and peered out the window.
No sign of him.
Viviane was just going to look for a note when heavy footfalls sounded on the stairs. Niall! She spun with delight just as the man of her dreams entered the room.
“Niall, you’re back!” Viviane danced across the room and cast her arms around his neck. “Good morning,” she purred, walking her fingertips up the damp expanse of his shirt. “Did you sleep well?” And she tipped her head back to meet his gaze, fully expecting another soul-stirring kiss.
But Niall wore a pensive frown. His gaze flicked over her, even as Viviane smiled, and his arms did not close protectively around her. She might have been embracing a statue. Viviane stepped back, uncertain what was wrong and watched as he scanned the room. It was almost as though he was avoiding looking at her.
He was shy! The realization almost made her laugh out loud. How could this bold knight be shy after what they had shared?
Maybe he was afraid she hadn’t been pleased. Wouldn’t that be just like the hero she knew Niall to be?
Well, Viviane would ease that doubt from his mind. She ran her hand over his shoulder and smiled. Niall looked into her eyes, swallowed, then looked away.
Time Travel Romances Boxed Set Page 79