With Dreams Only of You

by Kathryn Le Veque, Suzan Tisdale, Eliza Knight, Cynthia Wright, Christi Caldwell, Eva Devon

  Connor hadn’t asked any questions. Just clasped him in that crushing bear hug of his and said he was glad to have his friend back.

  James hadn’t seen the sword since.

  Given the way they’d left it, it wasn’t at all surprising, the dark look on Connor’s face just now.

  “This isn’t the place to discuss it,” James said quietly.

  “Right then,” Connor growled. “Inside.”

  The Scot turned on steel-toed boots and marched off.

  James looked down at Mac.

  She had the strangest expression on her face. “You’re an orphan too,” she whispered.

  His throat tightened. He didn’t like thinking about it, but he could see the powerful recognition in her blue gaze. “I am, yes.”

  This time, it was she who held out her hand to him.

  He took it and together they followed Connor to his ancient family castle.

  Suddenly, he was facing his past, his parents’ death, and a fear he’d managed to hide for years. Foolish though it might be, he was strangely, exceptionally glad the interesting redhead holding his hand was facing it with him.

  Chapter Seven

  “Right.” Connor folded his arms over his broad and bulging chest. “Explain yourselves.”

  Mac took the offered whisky from the Duke. “Thank you, uh. . . Your Grace.”

  “Call me Connor. Now, what the bloody hell is going on?”

  “She’s been having dreams,” James said, clearly avoiding any niceties.

  “Dreams?” Connor echoed, palming his crystal snifter and leaning against an oak desk that looked like it would take four bodybuilders to move it.

  “Mac?” James urged.

  She took a quick sip from her glass. Immediately, her throat and eyes burned at the smoky taste. “A few months ago I was given this.”

  She fished for the chain at her neck. On the ride up, she’d put the ring on a necklace she’d brought along. It felt liked it weighed more like a boulder than its actual light substance.

  Connor eyed it. “So?”

  “Almost immediately, I started having very vivid dreams. Dreams surrounding a sword.” She took another fortifying drink. “A Gladius.”

  Connor’s eyes narrowed and his gaze snapped to James but he said nothing.

  “At first, I just thought I’d been doing too much research into my dissertation. Shakespeare wrote about Romans too, after all. But then, I started seeing a castle in various stages of architectural development. But I knew it was always the same castle even if it appeared differently.”

  “What else?”

  Mac swallowed. She hated this part. “In my dreams there’s a woman. She’s sobbing. Over and over again. She’s calling out for someone, I’m sure of it but I can’t really tell what she’s saying because she’s not speaking English. I wake up then, drenched in sweat.”

  “Och, lass. Sounds terrifying,” Connor said softly.

  She forced a smile. “I haven’t slept well since I got the ring.”

  “Why have you not just thrown it away?”

  She blinked. “I don’t know. Actually, it’s never really occurred to me. Not in any meaningful way. I’ve always kept the ring on me since I got it.”

  “So, now you know why we need to see the sword,” James put in.

  Connor nodded. “I don’t like this James. Modern man that I am, I can’t escape the fear of the spirits and wee folk that’s in my blood. I’m sure there’s an explanation for all this. . .”

  James’ face hardened. “Is there?”

  “Perhaps not,” Connor sighed as if he understood some meaning in what James had said that she didn’t.

  Connor tossed back the last of his drink. “We’ll get the sword in the morning, it’s growing late.”

  James squared his jaw. “Tonight-”

  “I hid it well, James,” Connor growled. “And we aren’t scaling the mountains in this light.”

  James cursed.

  “It’ll be all right,” she said. “I’ve waited months and the sword has waited centuries. Another night won’t be the end of the world.”

  “I hope, lass, I hope,” Connor said warily. “Well, since we can’t go and get it now then we bloody well can distract ourselves.”

  “How?” she asked.

  “A drive into the village,” Connor said with a forced merriment. “It’ll clear our heads, don’t you think James?”

  James was silent then nodded. “Yes. Anything to get us out of castles and ancient history.”

  Connor laughed ruefully. “We’re in the Highlands, King. History is under every footstep.”

  James sighed then wiped a hand over his face. “Bloody hell.”

  “Come on then,” Connor winked. “Let’s show the lass a fine night.”

  MacKenzie smiled. After the last few months, she could use a fine night. “Sounds great.”

  “You watch him and his fine nights, Mac. That one is the devil in lamb’s clothing.”

  Mac snorted. “Anyone who thinks that one is a lamb was born yesterday.”

  “What am I?” Connor challenged. “The devil?”

  “Yes,” she and James answered at once. They laughed together and God, didn’t it feel good after all the tension of the last twelve hours. It felt almost too good. So good, she never wanted it to end.

  Chapter Eight

  The pub was packed to the brim. Connor was inside, surrounded by women, buying rounds of pints and his rich laugh could be heard over the din.

  Mac glanced back at the rollicking group before slipping out into the chilly night. It didn’t matter that it was early summer. The air was cool and she was glad she’d brought her coat. She zipped it up to her chin and looked up at the full moon floating over the Highlands, its silver rays reflected in the glassy, sea loch.

  The Highlands!

  By rights, she should be inside the pub, which had to be at least two hundred years old, loving every minute. But she was on edge.

  Now that she was so close to seeing the sword she’d seen so many times in her dreams, she couldn’t relax. She felt wary as if something was about to happen.

  She drew in a long breath and tilted her face up towards the star-kissed sky. The night air was delicious. Its scent was rich with salt, peat, and earth. It would have been impossible to have imagined herself in such a situation a year ago.

  Going to Europe had seemed an impossibility for years. She’d assumed she just wouldn’t go until she’d completed her degrees. Yet here she was, standing on a cobblestone waterfront street overlooking the loch. The sounds of tourists and Scottish voices filled the air. It should have been perfect.

  “You look quite pensive.”

  James’ voice rumbled softly behind her. It brought a slow smile to her lips. She’d known him less than twenty-four hours and yet she loved his presence. He had everything she didn’t. Generations of stability, inherent confidence, and a sensuality that, no doubt, made women everywhere want to shake his seemingly unshakeable person.

  “It’s been a remarkable few days for me,” she said, keeping her gaze upward.

  He stepped close, his arm lightly touching her back. “I must admit the same.”

  “Really?” How could that be possible? James seemed so worldly, as if he’d seen it all a hundred times over.

  “You’ve turned my life upside down, Mac.”

  “Because of the ring?” she asked. That had to be it.

  He paused. “Because of the ring and. . .”

  She couldn’t ignore his nearness. Just that closeness caused her skin to tingle with hunger for him. Good grief. Was it possible to feel so much for someone she’d just met? She’d never felt like this before and oh how she wanted him to kiss her! It didn’t matter how crazy that was.

  “And?” she prompted.

  He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her around to face him.

  He brushed her jaw with his thumb then cupped her cheek with his palm. “And this.”

&
nbsp; His lips touched hers softly, an exploration but also an invitation.

  It was an invitation she was going to take.

  She leaned into him and parted her mouth ever so slightly.

  At that, he slid his strong arms around her waist and dragged her body against his until not even a sheet of paper could have been slipped between them.

  He devoured her mouth. Hot, hungry, full of need, he took her lips in a savage kiss. She never would have guessed his gentlemanly demeanor could give way to such passion. But underneath all that control was a wildness that she’d never experienced before.

  Swept up on a torrent of passion, the world disappeared around them and all she could think of was James. Of his hard body pressed against her and the way she suddenly felt completely safe in his arms and yet completely wired with need.

  His hands stroked her back and she grabbed on to his shoulders, holding him like if she let go she’d be lost in the storm of their passion.

  In all her life she’d never been kissed like this. Like their lives depended on it.

  Several high whistles and catcalls punctured their reverie.

  A few teenagers passed by, laughing and shouting encouragement.

  James rested his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged.

  “God, Mac,” he whispered. “Who the bloody hell are you?”

  She tried to catch her breath, but she was too dazed.

  She licked her swollen lips. “Just Mac. Just me.”

  He laughed, a raw low sound. “There is nothing just about you, love.”

  That laugh sent a shiver down her spine.

  “I want you, Mac,” he growled, pressing his lips gently against her ear. “I want your body under mine.”

  She swallowed at the vivid image. What would that be like? Earth shattering, she bet.

  But what if she said, yes? She’d never been a one night stand kind of girl or a sex on the first date adventurer. They hadn’t even been on a date. A pint in the pub with the Duke of Aberoth in tow didn’t count.

  “I—” She closed her eyes.

  Before she could say anything, he lifted his hand and brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “No pressure. I want you to want this as much as I do. Do you understand? I want you to want me to rip your clothes off and kiss every damned inch of your skin.”

  She moaned at his tempting words. She wasn’t a virgin. Who was these days after twenty-four? But she’d never thought sex was the greatest thing. It was ok. Something that made a man and woman more intimate. Nice enough, but with James? Wow. She had a feeling she’d never be the same. Sex with him would be the bonding, epic sort of thing that only movies and books proclaimed it to be. Why would she deny herself that?

  Fear?

  Yes. Absolutely. Because after you had something like that, how did you go on with your life without having it again, and again, and again?

  Gently, he took her hand in his. “Let’s go back in.”

  She shook her head. “No. Let’s walk.”

  He smiled softly in the moonlight. “Lead on, Mac.”

  She had a funny feeling he never followed, but for her he was making an exception.

  She turned and took the walkway along the loch’s edge, wondering if this moment was real or maybe it was the rest of her life that had been an illusion? Because in all her life she’d never felt so absolutely alive.

  * * *

  James was extremely tempted to punch Aberoth in the jaw. His favorite Scot was as drunk as the proverbial lord and wouldn’t stop singing merrily at the top of his lungs and asking Mac outrageous questions.

  Did she like Braveheart?

  Yes? Good. Total tosh film though full of balls.

  Mac was with Connor in the back of the Hummer while James was driving, having not gotten blitzed.

  He gripped the leather wheel and tried not to stare unrelentingly into the rear view mirror.

  Highland roads were treacherous, especially at night.

  Aberoth scooted closer to Mac and propped his head on his hand, peering down at her.

  James was about to pull over, yank the burly Scot out and pummel him to within an inch of his life when he caught Connor flashing him a laugh.

  The damned man was winding him up on purpose.

  He turned the Hummer up the gravel drive toward the castle, the stone structure looming like a black mountain in the night.

  Jealousy was not an emotion he was familiar with.

  It took several breaths to bring him back to his usual cool center.

  Center? Not quite.

  He hadn’t been at center since the redhead showed up on his doorstep. In fact, he felt so damned far from the center he was stunned he simply just didn’t join Aberoth in song.

  He put the Hummer into park in front of the castle, but before he could exit, Aberoth jumped out and yanked Mac’s door open.

  The Scot bowed with a twirl of his wrist and offered her his hand. “My lady?”

  She laughed. “Don’t fall over, your grace.”

  And she got out of the Hummer on her own steam.

  She threw a tortured look at James.

  He smiled. He couldn’t help himself. She was completely unswayed by the Duke’s charm. Drunken charm, he granted, but most women, especially Americans couldn’t resist Connor.

  He fulfilled some deep, ridiculous Highland fantasy.

  Aberoth stared at the gravel for a long moment and then performed a dramatic bow. He stood, straightened his shirt and strode towards the steps, kilt swinging. “Fine. You two go to bed then. Preferably together. We’re up at dawn.”

  Connor didn’t look back but left them on the steps in the chill air.

  “He’s something else,” Mac said.

  James grinned. Actually grinned. He felt a bit boyish. “He is, indeed.”

  Her face was a stunning pale oval in the moonlight, framed by wild, red hair. But it wasn’t her feisty beauty that drew him to her. It was something more. Something deeper. Bloody hell, was he about to say her soul?

  Yes. Yes he was. Her soul called to his.

  It was the only explanation he could fathom.

  MacKenzie O’Neil had a soul that spoke to his. Both of them were orphans and both of them were touched by a centuries old legend. Who the hell else could understand him the way she could?

  And then there was the way he wanted to make love to her.

  Not fuck her.

  He’d had many relationships. Not a single one of them had ever truly moved his heart the way their one kiss in the moonlight had done.

  He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let her go.

  Some might claim it was the magic of the Highlands or the madness of their quest that was causing him to be so rash.

  Maybe it was the sword.

  He knew for a fact that great love affairs had occurred around the Gladius. Lady Frederica and Sir Eryx the first.

  What if that’s what this was?

  The blessing in the curse?

  Love?

  “James?” she prompted. “Are you all right? You have the strangest look on your face.”

  He brushed a lock of hair back from her face. “I am strangely the most all right I’ve been in some time.”

  Which seemed completely illogical given they were about to go after the one thing that had brought such tragedy to his life.

  She smiled, a perfect, gamine smile. “I’m glad. I was so worried when I came here.”

  “How so?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know.

  “Well, for one I thought you were going to think I was a lunatic.”

  “You are delightfully unique,” he replied unable to resist teasing her.

  She quirked a red brow. “Oh really.”

  He nodded. “Oh yes. Never change, Mac.”

  Her face grew serious. “You don’t even know me.”

  He gazed down at her, at her delicate, unsure features. “I do. I know you right to the core of your being.”

  Tears glimmered
in her eyes. “Don’t,” she whispered.

  He cupped her cheek. “Why?”

  “Don’t make me feel like I belong with you because it’s not real.”

  Damn it. Life had been cruel to her. If it was up to him, he would erase all of that, but if he did, she wouldn’t be the Mac who had broken through the wall around his heart. “You belong wherever you wish to be, Mac. I wish it to be with me.”

  She shook her head violently. “You don’t mean that. You just want me—”

  “I do want you,” he said passionately, “and I can’t help myself. It makes no sense, I know. But I am compelled. I am compelled to speak like this.”

  A ragged breath shook her shoulders. “This can’t be happening.”

  “You don’t believe in love at first sight?” he asked softly.

  “Have you read Romeo and Juliet?” she asked abruptly.

  “Proof isn’t it? The world’s greatest writer backs it.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” she countered flatly.

  He frowned. “Literature wasn’t my degree, but still, I must beg to differ. It’s the most famous love story—”

  “Romeo and Juliet isn’t a love story, James,” she said firmly. “It’s a tragedy. Even the writer is pretty damned skeptical. If Romeo and Juliet had lived, who is to say Romeo wouldn’t be on to the next girl in a month. He sure got over Rosaline fast enough.”

  He hesitated. What was she trying to say? In all his life, he’d never spoken so wildly but he’d also never felt like this before. When he knew something he didn’t bother denying it. What was the point? You accepted how things were and moved on. And he wanted Mac with him. “Mac?”

  “No. I’m sorry. I like you. I like you more than I should. But this is all just adrenaline. I refuse to believe that you might love me. It’s lust James. Really fabulous lust, but don’t make it more than it is. Tomorrow we’ll get the sword and then. . ”

  “Then?” he prompted gently. God, he could feel her pain. The pain of abandonment. Mac didn’t trust love. What a fool he was to think she’d let herself be swept up like he was.