CHAPTER FIFTEEN #2

And even in the throes of her climax, Allie gave him more white light. He gasped in rapture. Allie held on, never wanting to let go.

“Ailios?”

Royce’s voice somehow penetrated thick, dark clouds. Allie started, realizing she’d fainted or passed out.

Royce cradled her in is arms, his worried gaze on her face. Somehow, she smiled at him. My God, she managed to think, what had just happened—and after a leap?

“I hurt ye,” he said thickly.

“No, you didn’t.” Allie touched his cheek.

She realized she was incredibly weak. Her hand was shaking, her arm almost incapable of rising.

But then, she’d been giving him her power while in the throes of too many orgasms to count.

She hadn’t been thinking and there’d been no control.

She let her hand drift to his strong neck and chest, over his leine.

She wasn’t surprised that he remained hard.

She would have laughed, except she was so tired.

“I’m not sure why that happened, but it was great,” she murmured. “How do you feel?”

He took her hand and clasped it. “Ye gave me yer healin’ power. Ye shouldn’t have done such a thing. Yer weak now—while I am stronger than I should ever be.”

“I wanted to…you needed it…and it felt good, didn’t it?”

His eyes darkened. It was a moment before he spoke. “Ye need to save yer power for the ill—and mayhap, for Elasaid.”

His words were like ice water being thrown over her. She shivered and started to sit. He helped her. As he did, she became aware of the power coursing in him. “I was hoping to heal you,” she said softly.

He hesitated. “I can break down stone walls with my bare hands right now.” He grimaced. “Ailios, never again.”

She reached up to touch his beautiful face, wishing he’d tell her if the burden of guilt and grief he lived with had eased. “It just happened. You were hot, I got hot and one thing led to another.”

He gave her a look. “That was La Puissance.”

She felt a frisson of worry. “Yeah, no kidding. Are we in trouble?”

“I dinna ken.” He folded his massive arms across his broad chest. He was clearly unhappy now.

“What happened? Does leaping always make you so horny?”

He almost smiled. “A leap makes any Master randy, Ailios. It’s weakenin’. My body sought yers afore I could think clearly. My body wanted yer body, an’ it wanted yer power.”

Allie understood. The desire after a leap was reflex, and taking power was sexual. “But the first time we leapt, you didn’t touch me. And when I leapt with Aidan, he didn’t touch me.”

“Ah, well, I’d have killed Aidan had he given in to his urges.” Royce smiled grimly at her. “Ye were weak the first time. Ye passed out. An’ ye dinna belong to me then.”

Allie went still. Did Royce know what he had just said? She felt certain it had been a slip, because he suddenly flushed, glancing away.

“Can ye stand?” he asked more quietly. “We’re at Blackwood Hall. I can carry ye.” He nodded toward the rising sun.

“Can I rest a bit more?” She did not want to be carried down the hill like an invalid, but she was really exhausted and felt certain her legs were not up to the task of even a minor stroll. How much power had she given Royce? His aura had never been as brilliant.

She finally glanced around. They were in a lightly wooded grove on a rolling hill.

Through the birch trees, she saw a walled castle below, the stones striking red.

A village lay below its curtain walls, which were surrounded by a moat where swans floated.

It was beautiful. She wondered where, exactly, Blackwood Hall was.

“We’re north o’ Dumfries,” Royce told her.

He bent and swept her into his arms. Allie sighed, giving in.

They had to find Elasaid and she was too beat to do anything physical now…

even walk. She clung, enjoying being in his arms, as he walked down the hill, leaving the woods behind.

His heart beat steadily, powerfully, beneath her cheek.

She became aware of the extent of her love. Impossibly it had grown.

She looked up at him. “You never answered me. Do you feel better?”

He hesitated. “Yer light takes the chill out o’ my heart,” he finally said.

Tears came to her eyes.

The sun was just rising and the morning was cold. Villagers were leaving their huts. Cattle and sheep grazed on the commons. As they walked past the first shelters and a common well, the peasants turned to glance curiously at them. Everyone looked at her short skirt and legs, mostly with pity.

Royce growled, “They think ye too impoverished to wear a long garment.”

Allie had to laugh. “I’d rather be thought of as poor than wear what the maids at Carrick wear.”

He gave her a look. “Ye need English an’ French gowns.”

Allie’s heart leapt. “You mean, like the Queen was wearing?”

“Aye.” He glanced ahead, his strides lengthening.

“You want to clothe me in velvet and jewels?” She was amazed.

“I dinna say any such thing.”

“Admit it!” She didn’t need to hear a confession, because she knew that he wished her outfitted like royalty. In spite of the circumstance, her heart filled with joy. She kissed his throat.

“Ye’ll catch an ague the way ye dress. Mayhap Blackwood can find ye a gown.”

Let him make excuses. She was happy—until Allie saw the drawbridge lowering and thought about why they were there. “Blackwood knows we’re here.”

“Aye. I sent him my thoughts last night.”

A few minutes later, they were crossing that bridge in a serious silence.

Blackwood Hall was smaller than Carrick and Dunroch, and the main building looked like a manor house, with a single tower above.

Blackwood was standing on the landing above the stairs leading up to the hall’s great door as they approached.

She hadn’t paid much attention to him the first time they’d met, when she had been so stunned by Royce’s rejection.

Now, she saw a tall, powerful man, too handsome for his own good, his hair as dark as midnight.

He seemed to be amused, although what he found amusing, she had no idea.

He was dressed in black boots that covered his knees, dark hose and a black wool jacket with a narrow, nipped-in waist, puffed skirt and full sleeves.

The skirt did not cover his hips; instead, it exposed his loins.

A very large pouch had been sewn into the hose, over his manhood, as if he wore a jockstrap below.

Allie had never seen such a sight and she stared.

Royce’s manner of dress, in a leine and plaid with no underwear, was sexy as all hell.

But this was almost, and maybe even more, revealing.

Royce took her arm. “Dinna ogle.”

“Is that the fashion?” she managed to ask, ignoring him.

“T’is called a codpiece, an’ aye…the English are pleased to strut their manliness with their frivolous surcotes and hose.”

“Well,” Allie said, smiling, aware of her heart rate accelerating, “I won’t be the one to object.”

Royce gave her a dark look. They’d reached the bottom of the stairs and Allie dragged her gaze upward. Sam would go nuts for this one. She whispered, “Is he single?”

Royce looked at her blankly, clearly not understanding. Then, as clearly, he lurked. He flushed. “He’s nay wed an’ he’ll never be wed. He’s the worst rake—as bad as Aidan.”

“I bet he’d love my friend Sam,” Allie said.

“Ye forget why we be here,” Royce said furiously.

“Not really. Can you put me down?”

When he did, clearly intent on keeping an eye on her, Allie preceded him up the stairs. “But good humor usually helps. Or would it be better if I moped around all day and wept all night, worrying about my mother?”

Royce was silent.

Blackwood greeted her with a smile, glancing lazily at her from head to toe. “Good morning, Lady Allie. T’is my pleasure to have you at Blackwood Hall.”

She met his blue gaze and found it hard to look away, acutely aware that he wished to charm her. “Thanks. We’re imposing, and I am sorry for that, but we really need your help.”

His gaze flickered, and he nodded for them to go inside.

His hall was sparsely furnished, very much like the great room at Dunroch.

In spite of that, the long table was beautifully carved and gleaming with wax, and the chairs in front of the hearth were upholstered in a rich wine-hued wool fabric.

Aidan was standing by the fireplace, and he smiled at them. He did not seem any worse for wear.

Allie couldn’t help it. “That was fast,” she teased.

He gave her a very male look. “I have leapt into the past.”

She got it. If he had come from the future, he’d spent some time with Joan. She was dying to know some details, but didn’t dare ask if Joan might be a new, nicer person now.

He grinned. “She’s in very high spirits,” he said, laughing.

Allie went across the room and hugged him. “I felt awful yesterday. I didn’t think it right for Royce to ask you to divert Joan.”

“Ah, lass, she’s my liege. If she needs my services, I’m more than eager to oblige,” he said, amused. Then, with a glance at Royce he said, “O’ course, that might change, if I’m ever so fortunate as to have a maid like ye to love me.”

Allie met his gaze, wishing she could lurk. To her surprise, graphic images formed, and she saw Aidan with the Queen and two other women! Instantly she realized he’d sent her the little mental note. “Really?” She felt herself blush.

He just laughed at her. “Yer terribly curious about my privy affairs.”

She patted his arm. “Thank you for getting Royce out of hot water.”

He grinned at her. “Well, if ye touch me again, I mayna live much longer.” He gestured toward Royce.

She didn’t bother to look back, as she knew her lover well now and he’d recover from a brief bout with jealousy. “I can manage him. Don’t worry about it. Will you help us find Elasaid?”

“Aye.” Aidan’s smile faded. “If she’s alive.”

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