Page 34

“But that would be looking into the past, wouldn’t it? Not the future.” And if she looked far enough back, she wouldn’t be finding him there, either. And that particular mystery was something he wasn’t sure he was completely ready to try to explain to her.

“Aye,” she answered, her voice back to a whisper. “I selfishly wasted the better part of my time in the Norns’ world traveling the pathways of the past.”

“When you say you didn’t see Hall there when I arrived .

. .” He paused, searching for a way to ask what he needed to know without saying something stupid enough to spark her curiosity.

“Let me ask this. . . . How is that possible? We both know he was at my side when we knocked on your door that first day.”

She let out a long, shaky breath as she clasped her hands together in her lap. “I was no talking about yer arrival at my door. I followed you only to the gates of Tordenet.”

“Followed me from where?”

The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach seemed to be telling him he just might be facing an explanation, whether or not he was ready to give it.

Another long, shaky exhale.

“From yer arrival in this world,” she answered, her eyes darting to his and away again. “In this time.”

She knew!

“Let me try to explain,” he started, knowing it would be worse than silence if he were to attempt to lie his way out of this. She was too important to him to tell her anything but the truth.

“You’ve no a need for explanation, Chase. Certainly no to me, seeing as it’s me what did this to you.”

“You? I don’t think so.” He’d been wishing to be where he belonged since he was just a boy.

“I am responsible for bringing you here and placing yer life in danger. I saw you in my Visions. I saw that you were the only chance I had at freedom and, selfishly, I valued my own freedom more highly than yers. It’s me what bade the Elf to rip you from yer own life and bring you through time.”

“What Elf?”

“Malcolm’s mother-in-law, the one who accompanied his wife when she came to ransom his freedom from Torquil. I insisted she give her word to bring you to this world, for me.”

“Malcolm’s mother-in-law is an Elf,” he said slowly. And Christiana was descended from Odin, and the Tinklers were tools of the Fae, and he himself was . . .

“Elesyria is her name. Though in truth, she calls herself a Faerie, no an Elf, and she dinna take at all kindly to my using the wrong appellation.” Christiana shrugged, wiping her hands at the corners of both eyes. “I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you. So very sorry.”

As if the final piece of a puzzle he’d struggled with his entire life fell into place, Chase began to laugh. A small release of air at first, bubbling up from deep inside his chest until it formed great, silent heaving bursts of laughter that left him weak.

All this time, Christiana had struggled with the guilt of forcing him here against his will. All this time, and neither of them had been brave enough or just plain smart enough to open up to the other.

“Oh, Christy, don’t cry.” He enfolded her in his arms, holding her close to his heart. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. This Elesyria of yours was only the tool that brought me here. I’ve been waiting for her, or someone just like her, my whole life to do exactly what you asked her to do.”

She pushed away from his chest, looking up into his face, her big wet eyes filled with suspicion. “How can it be the truth you speak? What sort of a man would wait for the Fae to rip them from the tapestry of their lives and toss them through time to a place they dinna belong?”

“An unhappy man,” he answered honestly, stroking his thumbs down the sides of her cheeks in a vain attempt to dry the still flowing tears. “A man who’s spent his life searching for the purpose he was to fulfill, waiting for one particular Faerie to send him where he belongs.”

“You believe this is where you belong? In truth?”

Looking down at her face, so filled with trust and hope, he’d never been more sure of anything before. Being here in this time, with her, it was as if he’d been reborn into the place he was always meant to be.

He pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his.

She molded herself to him as he played his tongue across her soft lips, dipping inside to trace the contours of her mouth when those lips parted.

She tasted of herbs, of mint and balm and a thousand other flavors, like an exotic dish, fresh and steaming from the oven, prepared to his exact specifications.

Her hands skated over his chest and up to his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as if they might melt into one another.

There was only one way he could think of to get any closer.

He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, shoving the heavy curtains open before lowering her onto her back.

She extended a hand, catching his fingers and pulling him down on top of her.

Balancing his weight on his forearms, he dipped his head to capture her soft, willing lips.

He wanted her so badly he could taste it, but he was determined to take it slow. This moment he had waited for all his life was too important to rush through.

Her hands slid under the tail of his plaid to follow the length of his leg, stopping only when one petal-soft finger stroked against the heat of his inner thigh.

He sent a silent thanks to every supernatural being he could think of for the invention of the plaid.

Had he only known, he would have been wearing them his whole life.

Slow and easy, he reminded himself, kissing a trail down the side of her neck, nuzzling aside the neckline of her dress to trace his tongue over the soft skin of her shoulder.

His good intentions almost deserted him when her finger moved again, forging a path around his leg to brush against his swollen manhood.

A quick count of ten, backward, and he pulled at the neck of her dress, almost frantic in his efforts until her own movements allowed the cloth to slip down, revealing one perfect breast.

His mouth settled on the exposed treasure and he circled his tongue around the hardened nipple, his breath catching as she moaned and lifted her body against his.

It must have been a woman who designed these dresses. A man would have invented a snap-front micromini rather than the yards and yards of frustrating fabric that encased Christiana’s body.

“Wait,” she demanded, her warm fingers deserting the heat of his body.

He froze, one hand wrapped in what felt like fifty yards of linen separating him from where he wanted to be. Disappointment raged with the need to ignore her, but his better angels prevailed.

She wiggled enticingly beneath him and he counted again, backward from twenty this time.

“Better now,” she whispered, pressing herself to him, her gloriously naked skin burning into his.

His better angels, thoroughly rewarded for their honorable behavior, took flight, giving way to pure need.

T HE FIRE IN her belly raged out of control, turning all rational thought to instant cinders. Nothing mattered as much as extinguishing that fire.

Orabilis had told her there was only one way to accomplish that.

She knew the mechanics involved, even though she’d not experienced it herself. She’d seen animals mating. And she wasn’t completely without knowledge of what passed between men and women.

When she was younger, she’d overheard her father’s soldiers discuss their prowess at swiving, bragging about the tarse that hung between their legs, and the pleasure they’d brought some maiden in bending her over a table to shove that member into her womb while pulsing out the seed that might create new life.

None of that had sounded particularly pleasurable to her then, so what she’d expected was nothing like the immense pleasure she felt with Chase’s hot, wet mouth fastened to her breast. His tongue moved in rapid little flickers across her nipple, creating the most wondrous sensations that rippled through her whole body.

The soldiers must not have known how to do this correctly, because Chase’s every touch only seemed to set the fire in her belly burning brighter.

Chase’s hand slowly smoothed a path down her side, leaving a trail of chill bumps rising in its wake and creating a sensation in her loins that threatened her sanity.

Once again she slid her hand down to Chase’s tarse, trailing one finger from its base to its tip. It was large and stiff and velvety smooth, not at all like she’d imagined. She closed her fingers around it and slid her hand upward. As she stroked it, it twitched as if it had a life all its own.

Chase groaned at her touch, his breath hot against her breast until he lifted his head and cold air covered the spot where his mouth had been.

She waited, every fiber of her body so sensitive even the breeze created when he pulled his shirt over his head felt like a caress.

When he lay back down next to her, her heart pounded in her chest. This was it.

Wasn’t it?

Again he bent his head to her breast, his tongue forging a path from her throbbing nipples down the center of her stomach as his hands caressed her waist before sliding down to grasp her hips.

He spread her legs apart and fit himself on the top of her, the heavy heat of his manhood pressing against her delicate warmth.

As if her body had a mind of its own, her legs tensed, fighting to bring her knees together.

“Relax,” he whispered as his hands gently smoothed their way from her hips around her thighs to the spot where his tarse pressed against her. “Trust me,” he urged. “Let go.”

“Let go.” She repeated his words breathlessly, willing her muscles to release, allowing him to do as he would.

He nudged her legs around him and she locked her ankles together behind his back. His hands clasped around her waist, pulling her hips toward him as he rocked against her.

Hundreds of new sensations assailed her body and she lifted her hips, fighting to meet the movement of his next push.

“Take it slow,” he murmured, his lips tracing a path down her neck. “We’ve got all night.”

“All night,” she echoed him again, her mind unable to think of any words of its own, consumed as she was with the pleasure of his touch.

With each thrust of his hips, she rocked against him, until, at last, he was inside her, filling her.

And still it was not enough to satisfy the heavy need bearing down upon her.

His hot breath fanned over her sensitive skin as he dipped his head to kiss her again.

So gentle, so enticing, his tongue flickered over her lips and into her open mouth.

With each thrust, slow and deep, an unfamiliar tension built, pulsing and throbbing until, at last, it felt as if her world stopped.

She tightened her fingers into his shoulders as a pleasure such as she’d never known gripped her body.

It robbed her of her breath, immobilized her except for the intense, rhythmic contractions where their bodies joined.

Her ears thrummed with the sound of her own heartbeat and she gasped for air as Chase stilled over her.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured into her ear as he withdrew and filled her once again. “My own Christiana.”

Tiny pinpoints of light sparkled behind her eyes when he stilled over her again, his head thrown back, his body pulsing against hers.

They lay still, bound together as one, gasping for air, their hearts beating in unison so that she couldn’t be sure which beat was his and which was hers.

This was not at all what she had expected. This was so much better than anything she’d ever imagined.

You’ll know.

Orabilis’s promise rang in her ears, keeping time with the pulse of her blood.

There was no longer any sliver of doubt.

“You okay?” he asked, as if he needed reassurance that what had passed between them was as it should be.

“That was . . .” She paused, searching for the words to express what she felt, but failing to find them. “That was more than I had imagined it would be.”

“And that’s a good thing?” he asked.

“It is,” she confirmed. “Perhaps you can help me to learn to give you the same measure of pleasure that you brought to me. If we’re to do this again, that is.”

“Oh, Christy, my love, we are definitely doing this again.” He rolled her into his arms, dragging the heavy woolen blanket that covered the bed over their naked bodies. “Absolutely, most definitely, doing this again.”

As if by magic, even his words pleasured her now.