Chapter 8
Morning came too soon, sunlight a cruel reminder that magic had an expiration date. Even the air seemed to hum with the awareness that borrowed time was running out.
The storm beating the earth outside the cottage was ominous to Lainie, like a sign her days with Donell were numbered. They’d spent the last week in glorious ecstasy.
“Here ye are.” His sexy smile played with her nerves like a kiss as he handed her a glass of wine.
She swirled the liquid in her glass and then took a small sip. The tangy ambrosia warmed her throat and belly.
“Thank you, Don.”
He looked at her thoughtfully, his gaze narrowing. “What is it?”
“We need to talk.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “We need to talk about us, what we’re going to do.”
“Aye, I know. I hoped we wouldna have to.” His hand cupped her face, and he kissed her softly on the lips.
“Do you have a family missing you?” She hadn’t asked before, hoping, no praying, he didn’t have a wife in 1647.
“I have my clan and my brother.” His face turned sullen. “My betrothed died three years ago of fever, and I have no children.”
He could still see her pale face, fever-bright, whispering his name before the light left her eyes. He’d sworn never to love again—it made men weak, made them careless. But Lainie’s touch made him believe strength might look different from what he’d been taught.
“Oh, Don, I am so sorry.”
“Dinna worry, Lainie, lass.” He stroked her cheek. “I loved her deeply, but she was in so much pain at the end… I couldna ask her to stay, so I watched the verra last of her breath afore she was gone.”
Lainie’s heart ached for his loss. “How come you haven’t married since?”
Donnel looked away, as if the actual reason was too hard to say aloud. “There has been much going on with my clan. Warring with the MacRaes takes a lot of energy. I didna have the time to find another wife. Nor did I want another.”
Lainie set her wine glass down and snuggled closer to him. Being in his arms was incredibly comfortable, and she wished he could stay with her here… but she was also aware that any sort of relationship would impede her career plans. She frowned to herself. She was such a workaholic.
“Do ye have a family?”
She could sense the tension in his voice; she knew he must have feared the answer as much as she had feared his. “Just my sisters and my parents.”
“Why aren’t ye married?”
“I work a lot, and with my work, I travel all the time. I’ve never wanted to put a man through that. It would be too hard. Unless, of course, the man had enough money to live off of, and he didn’t have to work, then he could just come along with me,” she said jokingly.
“Hmm…your customs are much different than ours. ‘Tis verra strange to me, that ye work and travel on your own.” His fingers lightly stroked her back. Lainie shuddered at the sensitive feelings his touch elicited.
“Yes, our times are much different.”
“Lainie, ye know I canna stay.” His fingers massaged little circles in the small of her back, as his lips tenderly kissed her cheeks and then her neck. Gooseflesh covered her skin, and her nipples hardened against the fabric of her shirt.
“I know.” She closed her eyes, letting her body sink into the pleasures he opened for her. Suddenly, a thought popped into her mind. “The lady I bought the box from told me a riddle when I left, but I didn’t understand,” she whispered.
Why hadn’t she recalled the woman’s words before now? Lainie felt like an idiot; she was sure this was what they’d been looking for. Perhaps part of her subconsciously needed this time with Donell.
“What was it?” He nuzzled her ear, nibbling a lobe.
“When what’s inside must go and hide, tap it thrice and wave goodbye.” She tilted her head to give him better access.
“What does it mean?”
“I don’t know.” Lainie shifted so she leaned against him, chest to chest. She kissed his collarbone, smiling when he inhaled sharply.
Donell tipped her chin up, brushing his mouth against hers.
She let her tongue tease his lips, tasting the wine he’d sipped.
The wind howled outside. The fire inside flickered and crackled.
Her body thrummed from his ministrations.
Donell captured her tongue lightly with his teeth, sucking it into his mouth.
They kissed leisurely, just tasting and feeling each other.
When they parted, both were panting, their eyes heavily lidded.
Their passion was strong, and when they drank from the wine that was each other, it intoxicated them both.
Lainie wanted to make love to Donell so badly, but she knew they needed to figure this out. Putting off the inevitable would only make the heartache stronger. Donell must have sensed her thoughts as his gaze lingered on hers, his own pain reflected in his eyes.
“What were ye doin’ when I appeared?” Donell asked.
Lainie racked her brain, which was still like jelly from his touch. She remembered sipping her wine and then opening the box. “I was cleaning your brooch. Then I must have dropped it. I was looking for it… and then you were there.”
“My brooch? Perhaps it is the brooch ye must tap thrice.”
Lainie’s stomach turned into a knot of fire.
She wasn’t ready for him to leave. She wasn’t ready for their tryst to end.
At some point, it would have to, but she wasn’t ready yet.
She’d built her life on control, on never needing anyone.
But how could she call this weakness when her heart had never felt stronger?
Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Donell, I don’t want this to end.”
“Och, my love, I know.” He tugged her to him, laying her head upon his chest and stroking her hair. “But if I stay longer, I fear the box will never call me home again.”
“Then let it stay silent,” she said fiercely. “Let it forget you.”
Donell’s eyes softened. “We canna change what Fate has in store for us.” He turned toward the window where lightning flickered across the glen.
“The nights there are blacker than ink,” he told her quietly.
“When the stars come, they blaze like they mean to set the glens alight. And while all the world is quiet, there’s a quiet whisper in the mist, as if the gods themselves would call ye home. ”
His voice was filled with an ache for home. She realized then that he wasn’t just speaking of his home—he was mourning it. Afraid he wouldn’t be able to return.
This couldn’t last forever. Lainie had a life in this time, and he had a life in the past. She would also be leaving Scotland in a week. Donell was a laird. He needed to look after his people. Hundreds of people looked to him for guidance, protection.
“I must return, Lainie.” He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering tenderly. “But ‘tis possible we could meet again.”
She leaned back from him, taking in his expression. Meet again?
“What do you mean?”
“If ye could call me forth once, couldna ye do it again?”
Lainie’s eyes widened. His words lured a memory from deep within her mind… more strange words from the woman in the shop.
“The shopkeeper did say what was in the box, I could take out for my pleasure whenever I desired,” her voice trailed off.
Could it really be true? Her heart quickened just thinking about being able to bring Donell back again and again.
To make love to him whenever she wanted.
This was more like a dream than reality.
“Ah, and do ye desire me?” His hand slid from around her back, over her stomach, and then lower, as he cupped her sex. She wished she were naked, so he could slip his fingers inside.
“Yes,” she moaned, moving her hips against his hand.
“Then we shall be able to live in passionate harmony for as long as we like.” He flicked open the button on her pants. “Ye in your time and I in mine.”
Slowly, he unzipped her jeans. “We shall meet again, to remember this fire between us.” His fingers slipped inside, into her panties, and then were on her, stroking fire.
“And meet often, I hope.” His lips captured hers, his tongue thrusting inside as his fingers moved inside her, drawing out sounds she didn’t know she could make.
She arched against him, moaning as the sweet pleasure built within her.
“Mmm…”
Her warrior in a box. Pleasures would abound for years to come.