Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
Logan gazed at Adeline, while she seemed to be doing everything within her power to avoid meeting his eyes. He had never seen anyone less comfortable in the soothing waters of the pools, or less comfortable with the body that the heavens had given her. And she had the most heavenly figure he had ever seen… yet she behaved as if she was ashamed of it.
Her nerves intrigued him, making him wonder about the world she came from.
“Why do ye cover yerself like that, when ye wear that… gray skin thing? It’s nay different,” he said, waving his hands through the warm water, letting it soothe his tired muscles.
Adeline blinked. “It is different. It covers everything, and, right now, all my hands can cover are my… uh…”
“Breasts,” he supplied, smiling. “Is it shameful to say such words where ye come from, even as a healer? Our old healer had seen almost everybody in the keep over the years, from birth to wrinkled and gray and everythin’ in-between.”
Even in the silvery gleam of the moonlight, he could see the red flush in her cheeks, doubting it had anything to do with the heat of the pool.
“Doctors see a lot, but usually behind a screen,” Adeline replied. “We’re… quite reserved, I suppose. In Europe, I hear they’re freer with… um… being naked. There are nude beaches and things, but in the States… we tend not to flaunt everything. Not that I speak for everyone.”
The nature of the conversation reminded Logan of what she was hiding beneath the surface of the pool, and underneath her hands. Desire stirred in him, a heat he had not felt in years. Was it witchery, or was it merely her presence, as a beautiful, exotic stranger to his island shores?
He laughed, gazing out at the glistening sea to distract himself. “I wouldnae be nude on this beach in the dead of winter, unless I was in these pools. But in the summer, there’s nothin’ like a refreshin’ swim.”
“I don’t swim much,” she admitted. “Don’t have the time. Used to be good at it when I was a kid, but then…” she tailed off, her forehead creasing as though something unpleasant had touched her foot.
“But then?” he prompted.
She shook her head. “I gave it up. You know how it is when you get older. Sports and stuff get put on the back burner, and it’s all exams and studying and trying to cling to some semblance of a social life. I wasn’t a good enough swimmer to get a scholarship, so it didn’t matter. You know?”
“Nae really,” he replied, still not understanding half of what came out of her tempting mouth. “Why would swimmin’ have anythin’ to do with bein’ a scholar?”
She laughed abruptly, a smile brightening her face. “You know what, I actually don’t know, but it sometimes does where I come from. If you’re really good at a sport, you get to go to college for free or cheaper, at least. But now that I’m hearing you say it out loud, I don’t get it either.”
“What sport? Huntin’?”
She gasped, shock rippling across her face. “No, nothing like that. That’s not… something I agree with.” She paused. “I understand why some people do it, but hunting for sport… no, I don’t think I’ll ever understand that.”
“Ye daenae ‘agree’ with huntin’?” Logan frowned, bewildered. “If ye daenae hunt, or have someone hunt for ye, how do ye eat?”
She expelled a frustrated sigh. “That would be a much longer story, and I think it would probably make your brain explode. I mean, I bet you don’t have to worry if everything is organic, since it’s all grown and caught in your backyard.” She sat back, forgetting to cover herself, sinking deeper into the water. “That’s probably one area where the 1700s has the upper hand.”
“Are ye talkin’ of food ‘cause ye’re hungry?” he asked.
She shook her head. “My stomach is a bit unsettled. Think it might’ve been the journey. Jetlag is bad enough, but I have no idea what’s in store for me with a time-zone jump like this.”
“Jet… lag? Time zones?”
She chuckled, and though it was not quite as mad a laugh as it had been before, there was a hint of insanity about it. “In some countries, it’s daytime right now. So, if you travel to another country quite quickly, you have to adapt to whatever time it is where they are. When you fly on a plane, aka a ‘jet,’ that’s what takes you to these other countries quickly, so we call it jetlag, because your body is lagging behind the time, or the time is lagging behind you.”
“I think I understand,” he told her, in awe of what the future must look like.
He imagined the skies filled with strange mechanical birds that carried people across vast stretches of land and sea, but he soon began to wonder if it would affect the way the sky looked. Would it be as beautiful from up there? Would it ruin the perfect blue of a summer day or the dramatic gloom of a winter afternoon? He was not sure he would like to have the sky ruined by such things.
“Are ye married, where ye come from?” he asked suddenly, realizing he had not asked her in return.
She snorted. “Definitely not.”
“Why do ye say it like that? Are ye nae desirable in yer own time?” He found that hard to believe. Adeline would have been desirable in any time period.
Indeed, he was having trouble concentrating as his gaze drifted down from her throat to the hollow at its base, and further still to the glassy shimmer of the pool’s surface. The reflection of the moonlight and the darkness of the pool itself kept him from seeing her naked bosom, taunting him with the watery veil.
“I’ve never attracted much attention, other than unwanted attention,” she replied coolly, her eyes tightening. “And I haven’t had too much time for dating or anything like that.”
A bristle of irritation tingled in his chest. “Who hurt ye?”
“Excuse me?”
“Who hurt ye? Who gave ye unwanted attention?” he demanded, forgetting that there was no punishment he could deliver from three hundred years in the past.
Adeline smiled thinly. “Just a little worm who likes to feel powerful.”
“Did he touch ye?” Beneath the water, Logan clenched his hands into fists.
“He didn’t get the chance,” Adeline replied, looking at him strangely. “Does that make you angry?”
Logan sniffed. “Nay man has any right to touch a woman that doesnae want to be touched. If any lass comes to me with a tale like that, the wretch who did it will be branded, or worse, dependin’ on the nature of his crime.”
“ Here? In 1705?” She blinked at him in disbelief.
He was almost insulted. “Why should that surprise ye?”
“Well, for one thing, you threw me in a dungeon when you thought I was a witch or a Catholic,” she pointed out, a softer smile forming on her lips. “What if an accused man were to say that he’d been ‘bewitched’ by a woman, and that’s why he touched her? What would you do then?”
Logan had to think about that for a moment. “We’ve never had that happen, but… I suppose we’d have to have a trial, or I’d have to look into the character of the man. If he’s well kenned for bein’ a letch, he’d be punished. If he’s nae, then a trial would take place.”
“And a trial like that would be fair?” She sounded dubious.
“I’d ensure it,” he insisted, rankled by the doubt in her tone.
She shrugged. “At least there’d be a trial, I suppose. If I’d spoken up about the guy who… tried it on with me, it wouldn’t be him who got fired. I think I knew that already. Why else would I have been wishing on a snow globe?”
“Fired? At the stake?” Outrage burned in Logan’s chest.
She raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “No, it’s where you get… uh… It’s where you lose your employment. It’s our word for it.”
“Oh.” He relaxed a little, still infuriated that any man would dare to touch this woman without her permission.
After all, he was sitting naked on the other side of a pool with her, and though, yes, he dearly desired to touch her, to feel her smooth skin beneath his fingertips, to make her warmer than any water could, to feel her plump lips on his, he would stay exactly where he was unless she intimated that she wanted that from him.
The days of the Gibson clan pillaging and taking whatever they pleased, from whoever they pleased, whenever they pleased, had died with his father.
“But ye said ye were six-and-twenty,” he ventured. “How can it be that ye havenae found a husband?”
She swirled her fingertip on the pool’s surface, disturbing the mirror sheen. “Is it that old to be unmarried?”
“Aye, here, it is,” he replied. “Most lasses are wed by eight-and-ten, twenty at most.”
She settled back against the worn-smooth rock, arching her neck back to rest her head. “What can I say, we’re living in different times. It’s not weird to have your first marriage in your thirties where I’m from, and folks are having kids at a more advanced age.”
“Your first marriage?” He tried not to concentrate on how her neck arched like that.
Adeline mustered a laugh. “Divorce is as easy as getting a morning coffee in 2023. I think one in two marriages end in divorce now, but don’t quote me on that.” She sighed, her chest rising, teasing him with the sight of a smooth, round, water-slicked breast. “I suppose you’ve probably got that whole marriage thing figured out better here, or maybe not. I’m not about to judge.”
He could fathom the idea of planes and cars and women being capable of anything that men could do, but the thought of marriage being so… dispensable did not sit well with him at all. To him, marriage was forever. That was why he had not yet married, for though it was his duty to continue the family line, he wanted to find a wife who captured his heart as well as his mind, both of them fueled by a love that even the stars would smile upon. Nothing less would suffice.
“I’ve shocked you, haven’t I?” she prodded.
“I daenae ken whether to be shocked or filled with pity,” he replied.
She considered his words for a while, her expression pensive. “That’s not to say there aren’t love stories and marriages that last, or could have lasted,” she said. “They still exist, just… not so often. Anyway, it’s getting late, and I am kind of hungry, so we should probably… uh… head back.”
“Did I say somethin’ to upset ye?” He had heard the note of strain in her voice.
She shook her head too vigorously. “Me? ‘Course not. I’m just not looking forward to the walk back after being in the hot water for so long. So, y’know, best get it over with.”
He could tell she was lying but did not want to press the matter. Clearly, she knew of a love story, a happy marriage, that she did not wish to speak about. It was not his place to force her.
“I’ll turn me back,” he said, twisting in the water to face the rocks.
“Can you… um… pass me my clothes?”
He smiled. “Aye, I can.”
Reaching for her strange clothes, stranger still now that she had petticoats to go with them, he stood halfway out of the pool in order to hand her the garments without them getting wet. His nether regions were still hidden by the water, but he caught her glancing. It widened his smile.
“Thank you.” She took the garments hurriedly, while he turned his back.
A moment later, a yelp of fright cut through the air. He twisted around without thinking, just in time to see her falling backward. The rocks were slippery underfoot, and she had lost her balance. He surged forward, catching her before she hit the water, his strong arms encircling her. Her legs knocked into his as she fell against him, panting hard.
And as they stood there in the water, stripped bare, her chilled skin warming against his, a rush of desire pulsed through his veins. He did not want to let her go, did not know if he was capable of loosening his hold at that moment. The swell of her buttocks pressed against the muscle of his thighs, his loins pressed against her lower back, his forearm covering the nakedness of her bare breasts, while his other covered the secret peak between her thighs, somehow keeping her dignity, though she wore not a stitch of clothing.
“The rocks are slick,” he whispered, dipping his head. Her skin smelled divine, like the world after a winter storm.
Her breath shallowed, her neck arching ever so slightly in response to his voice. “You couldn’t have told me that before?”
“I assumed ye kenned,” he replied, grazing his teeth across his lower lip as he admired the curve of her neck, eager to place a kiss there.
She gulped loudly. “I forgot that my feet… would be wet.”
“Ye ought to be more careful,” he warned, his blood singing, urging him to press his lips to her smooth skin.
Slowly, she turned in his arms, bracing her hands against his broad chest. She peered up at him, her eyes shining, reflecting his desire. Her gaze flitted to his lips, then back up to his eyes.
“You didn’t have my permission to catch me like that,” she said, pressing herself against him. A soft gasp escaped her lips, no doubt feeling his hardness against her belly.
His arms tightened around her. “Would ye have preferred it if I’d let ye crash back into the water, where ye might’ve hit yer head again?”
“No,” she replied simply.
“Shall I release ye?”
She shook her head. “I just… need to test something first.”
“Test something?” He frowned.
She slid her hands up his chest and along the sides of his neck, rising up on tiptoe with the motion. With her fingertips gliding into his hair, she paused, her lips so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin.
He did not wait to see if she would change her mind.
Pulling her against him, he kissed her, crushing his lips against hers. He had expected hesitation, but before he knew it, she was kissing him back with equal fervor, running her hands through his hair, pressing herself against him as if she had been waiting, all throughout their time in the pool, for him to swim to her side and make the decision for her.
His hand came up to cradle her face, his fingers splayed through her soft hair, grazing his teeth over her lower lip before sinking back into a deep, frenzied kiss that made time stop altogether. A cold wind blew against their bare skin, but he did not feel it, and he would not let her feel it either, using his body to keep her warm.
Her skin was like silk, her hips writhing against him, matching the ebb and flow of their lips. It stirred him toward a precipice of need that could be satisfied only one way, but that would be her choice, not his.
Perhaps, considering her words about not having much experience with men, she did not know what that hardness even meant… though the way she moved in his arms suggested otherwise.
All of a sudden, she stopped and pushed back, taking a half-step away from him. She touched her fingertips to her lips as if they had betrayed her somehow, or to check that the kiss was real.
“I’m sorry,” she said thickly. “I… forgot this wasn’t… a dream.”
He smiled. “I remember ye sayin’ I was what ye’d have dreamed of.”
“But this isn’t a dream,” she insisted, shaking her head. “I’m here, and I’m stuck here, and… this is… this can’t… I shouldn’t have done that. I got carried away. I’m… I’m tired, and I’m hungry, and I’m time-lagged, and I really think I should be getting back to my room so I can sort my head out. Please, turn around.”
He took a steadying breath and did as she asked, his mind bursting with visions of the rise of her perfect, pert breasts and the tight line of her stomach and that eager press of her lips against his, her hips moving against him as if she wanted more. All things that had been within his reach, now withdrawn.
She’s right . We got carried away.
She might have been the first woman in years to spark desire in him, but she was a woman from the future, trapped in his time. There was no telling when her own time might summon her back. No matter how tempted he was, she was not for him. After all, she could not stay. She had to return, one way or another.
“Would it be okay if we just… forgot that ever happened?” she asked.
He nodded, his back still turned. “Of course.”
A task that was far easier said than done, for whether she was a witch or not, he feared she had already begun to bewitch him.