CHAPTER NINE #3
The ground tilted wildly and began to spin.
Instantly she knew a vision was coming. Dread began.
She knew she did not want to see whatever was about to form.
The landscape whirled until she could not see the tents, the men, the cook fires or Aidan.
And then the spinning kaleidoscope of color slowed, shadowy images forming.
A huge crowd of men and women in linen tunics and plaids gathered before stone walls. She saw a stately palace, as well, and heard the crowd. There were cheers, jeers, laughter. Brie saw red and gold leaves. Snow dusted the ground.
And she saw Malcolm. He was at the front of the crowd, holding Claire. Those around him were laughing and pleased, but he was crying in anguish.
No, she thought desperately.
She saw Allie, screaming and fighting someone—Royce, her husband.
Brie did not want to see any more. With gut-wrenching horror, she followed Malcolm’s gaze and cried out.
Aidan was hanging above the crowd, twirling slowly in the breeze, his neck crooked, his face downturned.
Brie gasped, eyes flying open, clinging to Aidan’s arms.
He was staring down at her in concern.
Brie realized she was weeping. He had carried her to the bed in their tent. She had just seen Aidan hanged. Her visions always came true. What was she going to do?
“Ye swooned.” His quiet voice interrupted her frantic thoughts.
She moved her hands, seizing his strong shoulders. Power pulsed in his muscles and veins, so much male power. She was not going to let him die. Not now, not when he was changing before her very eyes, not when she loved him so much.
Aidan’s mouth tightened.
In that moment, she knew he’d been inside her mind and he’d seen all that she had.
“It’s a mistake. It has to be,” she breathed, precariously close to more tears.
“Dinna weep for me, Brianna.” A false smile came and went. “I am hardly worth yer tears.”
“Do not speak that way.”
His eyes flickered oddly and his gaze slipped to her mouth, then lifted. “I dinna wish to live to old age.” He shifted as if to stand, but did not do so. “Ye must be tired. I will guard ye while ye sleep.”
He was sitting on that small bed with her, and she had his huge shoulders in her hands. Her fear was receding, replaced by an acute, painful awareness of him, not just as a sexy, beautiful man, but as a man struggling to make his way back to the light.
She hadn’t felt any emotions from him—not since his fury and terror in the battle earlier with Frasier. He was adeptly blocking his feelings from her. But heat was rising in her, replacing the fear. With the slowly incoming tide of desire, there was so much love.
“I almost died today,” she whispered. She reached up and touched his cheek in a soft caress and he stiffened, his eyes flying wide with alarm.
She dropped her hand and said as softly, “But you healed me. You healed me, Aidan, with a white, god-given power. Terrible things lie ahead for us both. I have seen them. I can’t sleep.
I don’t want to sleep. I want you to hold me, make love to me…
and chase this all away, just for an hour or so. ” She lifted her hand.
He pulled away, standing, before she could caress his face again, but his eyes smoldered and his leine fluttered suggestively.
“Ye dinna wish to be my lover or my friend, Brianna,” he said softly, and as his words washed through her, silken and strong, she knew he was enchanting her.
“Ye dislike me now. Ye want nothin’ to do with me.
Ye want to go to Iona. Ye want to be safe. ”
Brie cried out, clapping her hands over her ears. I love him, she thought. I want him safe! He is my friend and nothing can change that.
He tore her hands from her ears. “Ye resist me?”
She nodded, even though his words were potent and reverberating through her. Ye dinna wish to be my friend, Brianna. Ye dislike me now. Ye want nothing to do with me…. Ye want to go to Iona….
“I am your friend,” she whispered. “And we both need one another now.”
He leaned over her, holding her wrists, his eyes hard and wide. Brie pressed her mouth in the vee of his leine, against his hot skin.
His heart slammed and then thundered. “Dinna,” he warned, but his grasp on her tightened. And as it did, she recalled every single moment of the dream they had shared.
He had been desperate for her touch, and he had kissed her as if he had never kissed a woman before.
She pressed another kiss against his skin and she heard him stifle a moan.
As she looked up and saw that his eyes had closed, his high cheekbones were stained with desire and he’d arched his head back in sheer enjoyment.
Brie slid to her knees and moved her mouth up the column of his strong, vibrating throat. He shuddered.
She lifted her face and pressed her mouth to his lips.
His mouth was tightly closed. He kept her wrists in an iron grasp. She moved her mouth gently against his.
He gasped, and his huge arms encircled her as his mouth opened and their lips fused. His desire exploded between them, unshielded. As it stabbed through Brie, she realized it was even greater than before. Throwing her arms around him, hanging on as if for her life, she kissed him back frantically.
Their tongues sparred.
He suddenly slid his arm around her waist and hiked her up hard against his raging manhood. Brie became faint with urgency and need.
He tore his mouth from hers, panting, blue eyes ablaze.
“Don’t stop…don’t think!” she begged. But she already knew what he was doing.
He wrenched free of her. “Canna ye see that ye’ll be Moray’s next victim if I bed ye?”
“I’m not sure I care.” In that insane moment, there was only one thing she cared about—the union of their bodies.
“I need power,” he cried. “I need lots o’ power. Makin’ love will not vanquish my father!”
Brie went still.
So did he, staring at her.
He was right. He needed the power to triumph over Moray.
“My father chose to murder ye today because of the dream we shared.” Aidan said, finally exhaling. “Think, Brianna. Think about his spyin’ on us. Think about how ye make me weak an’ vulnerable.”
She shuddered. Aidan wouldn’t be weak and vulnerable because of her unless he cared.
But she did not want to be the one to weaken him.
“I guess that means you’ll have sex, right?
Power and sex, do they always go together?
” Her heart thundered now and her cheeks were on fire.
But she was uncertain. She wanted him to tell her he’d take power but not during intercourse.
“Does it even matter?” he asked flatly.
She nodded, trembling. “Yes, it matters. It matters to me.”
“I am sorry,” he finally said. “I am sorry yer here, I am sorry my father hunts ye now, an’ mostly, I am sorry ye love me.” He started grimly past her, heading for the open tent flap.
She would die if he went to another woman now, after what had just happened, after what seemed to be happening between them. “Take me.”
He faltered, turned.
“I understand and I agree. You need power. Lots of it. Take it from me.”