Dawns Everlastin' (former title: Dusk Before Dawn) Book 2 (39 page)

The detective eyed the house
for some time after everyone else had left. He'd heard tales of the
house and laird since his boyhood, and had thought them just
that...
tales.
A
practical man trained to respond to reason and not matters of the
heart or imagination, he wondered how he would feel about his
experience this night, come the cold daylight of
morning.

He was scheduled to fly to
Paris, early in the morning on the twenty-fourth. He was
half-tempted to cancel that flight.

"A gift yer sorry eyes will
no' soon forget,"
the laird had
promised.

It was tempting to witness
such a promise, but the serial killer known as the 'Phantom', had
struck again. He'd been on the man's bloody trail for nearly four
years.

What kind of magic would
Lachlan Baird perform on Christmas Eve?

It certainly couldn't be
anything more miraculous than bringing a woman back to
life!

Shrugging deeper into his
coat and turning up the collar, he turned away from the house and
headed in the direction of his car.

* * *

Fatigue slowing her
movements, Laura quietly closed the boys' bedroom door, and padded
into Roan's bedroom. She slowed her approach, sadly regarding him.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his head lowered into his hands.
Although the room was chilly, he wore nothing but white boxer
shorts.

"Can I fix you some
tea?"

He looked up and smiled
tiredly, then patted the mattress beside him. She sat and cuddled
close to him, her right hand rubbing his hairy chest. She sighed
contentedly. For the first time in her life, she felt lighthearted.
Unburdened. She drew up and folded her semi-bare legs atop the
mattress, and nestled her temple against the bulging biceps of his
right arm.

"I guess the reporters have
finally given up. It's quiet in the neighborhood."

"Two days o' dodgin' the
bloody lot is mair’n enough. But we're part o' the miracle, aren't
we?" He sighed. "They'll hound us till they get their
interviews."

"How are you holding
up?"

"Me?" He chuckled softly,
draping an arm across her back. "God, lass, you died. I can hardly
believe ye’re here wi' me now."

"You can't get rid of me
that easily."

"Tis no' funny, Laura."
Prompting up her chin with a bent finger, he stared forlornly into
her emerald eyes. "I was never so frightened in ma
life."

Laura straightened and
playfully nipped his shoulder. But when she spoke, her words and
tone were undeniably serious. "In the eighteen hundreds, I loved
you more than anything in that world. I love you even more now,
Roan. This time, no one will be sacrificed. Our love will remain
pure and strong, and it will bond our family like no
other.

"I promise you my loyalty
and devotion; my love until the end of time. And I promise you
happiness and peace."

Tears threatened to fill his
eyes. "I love you. I've been such a bastard."

"No, Roan. You were only
standing up to the Tessa flashbacks I was experiencing. But it's
all in the past. We've been given a second chance. And Roan...I
don't intend to screw it up.

"Let the reporters have
their story. We've nothing to hide, anymore. I don't care if the
whole world knows what it took to bring us back together. Isn't
magic something we should share?"

With a groan, he turned and
wrapped his other arm about her, holding her tightly against
him.

"I love you so much, it
scares the hell ou' o' me."

"Tis a womon's way to keep
her mon," she said teasingly.

Her hands dipped beneath his
arms and glided up his bare muscular back until her fingers hooked
onto his broad shoulders.

"Is it my imagination, or
has it been forever since we made love?" she whispered by his
ear.

Grinning, he rubbed his chin
along her jawline. "Are you tryin' to seduce me, Miss
Bennett?"

"Are all Scotsmen so slow to
catch on?" she chuckled, closing her eyes to the bliss of him
caressing her skin.

"Slow, eh?"

His hands slipped beneath
her long pullover sweater. She gasped in surprise when the coldness
of his skin brushed against her midriff. Her nipples became rigid
buds against his massaging palms. Shivers coursed through her body,
rapidly followed by searing ignitions of delight. She moaned deep
in her throat. Her breasts swelled within his cupped
hands.

He robbed her of breath when
he gently fastened his teeth on the side of her neck. His tongue
sensuously stroked her soft skin, evoking a flame of desire to
awaken in the heart of her groin.

Laura wanted to melt into
him. She clung to him, relishing his firm, powerful body, inhaling
his musky scent. Her eyes rolled behind her closed lids. She
remembered their years of lovemaking in their former life. He'd
been a wonderful lover then, undeniably superior now. He owned of
the ability to bare her soul with his mere glance, his mere touch.
A liberated modern woman might mock the idea of belonging to any
man, but she did belong to Roan, heart, mind, and
spirit.

His mouth covered hers, at
first kissing her in a teasing, tentative manner. She played along,
although secretly wanting him to kiss her senseless. His kiss
finally deepened. But it didn't last long. With a husky groan, he
pulled her onto his lap then rolled over until she was stretched
beneath him. His mouth sought hers again, awarding her such
pleasure she thought her heart would explode behind her aching
breasts. His erection pressed against the side of her outer thigh.
When he began to gently rub himself against her, an almost painful
tightening gripped her low in her abdomen.

Breathing heavily, he
trailed his mouth along her cheek, down her neck, all the while,
his hands slipping her sweater up to expose her breasts. Her
muscles grew taut with desire when his lips encircled her left
nipple and began to suckle in a slow, taunting manner. She arched
her back, compelled to urge him to suck harder. Her chest ached
with each hoarse breath she drew.

"Oh God," she wheezed, her
eyes closing amid an expression of blissful torment. Perspiration
broke out on her smooth, flushed brow. Her teeth locked, and she
arched higher while her left hand cupped his nape and drew him
closer. His teeth nipped the swollen bud. She jerked with a spasm
of pleasure. When his tongue began to slowly lick around the tiny
erection, incendiary pulses coursed through her veins, burst within
her brain.

Cocooned in mounting,
mindless ecstasy, she stretched her arms above her head and
squirmed beneath his ministrations. Her right breast received equal
attention, but this time he helped her free of her panties, and
tantalizingly stroked the hair-covered mound between her
thighs.

Her fingers clutching and
unclutching the quilt beneath her, Laura parted her legs in
invitation. His fingers gradually worked their way to the moist
cavity of her womanhood. Pleasure rippled along her flesh, sang
within her heart, and cushioned her brain in a boundless haze. His
mouth left her breast, his tongue sweeping down her belly. His
fingers gently rubbed, massaging the magical button of her
sexuality. Before his mouth reached its intended destination, an
orgasm caught her unaware. The force of it prompted a cry to escape
her. Her body quaked. She tried to turn away from his wondrous
strokes, but he wouldn't permit her to deny him this
pleasure.

She opened her eyes and
stared pleadingly at him. He watched her expression with glowing
satisfaction, and when he was sure she'd reached her maximum
tolerance, he removed his hand and hastened out of his
shorts.

Laura decided it was time
she took control. Bolting upright, she took him by the shoulders
and shoved him onto his back. Then she straddled his lower torso,
seductively slipped her sweater over her head, and flung it
aside.

"You play dirty, Mr.
Ingliss."

"I do? Am I to be tortured?"
he grinned.

Placing her hands on his
shoulders, she lowered herself and kissed him passionately. When
she sensed he was beginning to lose himself to it, she
straightened. She stared into his passion-glazed eyes for a long
moment. Then she raked her fingernails down his chest, not hard
enough to draw blood, but enough to awaken every nerve in his body.
When she reached the plateau of his rib cage, he attempted to snare
her wrists. Instead, she cinched his and, smiling wickedly, coaxed
his hands above his head. Anchoring his wrists, she bent low and
sank her teeth into his left earlobe. He squirmed beneath
her.

She nibbled and stroked the
fleshy part with her tongue, delighting in his body tensing with
desire. She was forced to release his wrists when she slid down
enough to embrace his right nipple with her lips. Again she nibbled
and stroked, the bud's erection nearly as satisfying as the one at
his groin.

She tested his tolerance for
what seemed a month of forevers. Stroking his chest, his thighs,
his hips and teasingly, his manhood. A sheen of perspiration
covered his face, neck, and chest. His body temperature rose higher
and higher. His heart hammered against the inside wall of his
chest.

"Laura-lass," he said
through clenched teeth. "I'm sufficiently primed, thank
you."

She arched an eyebrow,
devilishly questioning his statement. In a voice, husky and raw
with sensuality, she said, "Tell me what you want, Roan
Ingliss."

His hands readily gripped
her hips and urged her up from his lap. He stopped there, his eyes
relaying what more he desired of her. A soft glow bathing her
features, she reached between her legs and slid her fingers slowly
up his shaft. He quivered. Exquisite, rapturelike torment masked
his face. Her fingers curled around his erection, holding it in
place while she eased herself down onto its head.

The instant he breached the
cavity, a guttural moan rattled within his chest. She enveloped him
slowly, lowering herself a little bit at a time, working her
vaginal muscles to stroke him, torture him with anticipation. His
strong fingers kneaded her outer thighs. She had nearly taken him
in completely when his hips thrust upward. Bliss impaled her,
sweeping her into its promising embrace.

They were alone in the
world.

Two lost souls who had found
each other.

Two reborn souls capable of
offering their partner a plane of ecstasy few could even imagine,
let alone experience.

Their awareness became one.
Their search for gratification, one. In perfect rhythm, their minds
and bodies in perfect sync, they strove toward their united goal.
Gradually, they climbed the craggy face of the mountain of rapture,
their psyches locked onto the memories of their other life in each
other's arms.

The spell was temporarily
broken when Roan sat up, and lowered her onto her back. Her arms
circled his neck. He kissed her hungrily then, pinning her wrists
to the mattress above her head, he began full, controlled thrusts
into her body, all the while staring deeply into her
eyes.

The first ignition of a
climax took control of them. Thrusting to meet its force, they
tensed in anticipation. Laura's came first, bursting from her core
and tingling to the tips of her fingers and toes. Roan followed a
second later, throwing back his head and exposing the veins and
cords bulging in his neck. When the climb was fulfilled, he
collapsed atop her, his face buried to the side of her neck, in a
damp nest of her blond hair.

Wallowing in the aftermath
of the experience, Laura stared unseeingly at the ceiling. She was
completely exhausted, but never more content than she was now. Her
arms weakly folded across his back. Her breaths came in short
spurts between her parted lips.

"Damn me, tha' was a
quicky," he grunted, easing some of his weight off her.

Laura rolled her eyes then
released a short laugh. "I don't think I could survive a prolonged
version of this."

Propping himself up on his
elbows, Roan blinked down at her. "Anythin' short o' two hours is
unmonly."

She glanced at the digital
clock on the nightstand. "We began this shortly after eight." She
grinned at him. "It's nearly ten-thirty, my lustful
Scot."

Roan eyed the clock for
several seconds before muttering, "Damn me, I'm good."

"You're something," she
chuckled, stroking his jawline with the back of her fingers. "Since
you seem to be so full of yourself, how about fixing us something
to eat? I'm about starved."

Groaning, he buried his face
to the side of her head again.

"A little energy goes a long
way," she cooed suggestively.

With that incentive, he
sprang from the bed, and ran out of the room.

Laura languidly drew the
quilt around her cooling body, and curled into a fetal position.
She watched the doorway, waiting for him, knowing that when he
returned, he would be wearing nothing but a disarming, utterly
charming grin.

True to character, he
appeared in the doorway, the grin in place, his arms laden with
plates and bowls of food and snacks.