Druid Knights 02: Knight of Rapture (25 page)

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He kept his eyes forward. “There is nothing to talk about. I needed to—”

“Kill something, obviously.” They continued on until they got to the manor kitchen where Helen and Charles were having a cup of tea. “Oh dear, you have been strolling in the rain. Wait right there.” Helen rose and left the room.

“Here, let me take that.” Charles relieved Arik of the sword. “I’ll bring it to the garrison.”

Helen returned and handed them each towels. “Now upstairs with you both. I’ll have some hot soup for you when you’re ready.”

They entered the tower room. He got out of his clothes, toweled off and tucked the cloth around his waist.

Rebeka wasn’t quite into her towel when he pulled her into his arms. She didn’t resist. He ran his hand over her back. She was already warm to his touch. His gaze traveled from her warm, tender eyes, to her strong shoulders, to her tempting breasts.

He took her face in his hands and drew her to him. Passion turned her violet eyes a dark purple that smoldered and sent heat coursing through his veins. He kissed her lips as if he was a sinner in need of redemption.

Her answering moan fueled his hunger for her.

With care he placed her on the bed and lay next to her. He nibbled and kissed her neck, taking in the scent of her skin.

She worked her way to his earlobe, nipped then bathed his ear with her soft breath. Her husky voice whispered she loved him. The velvet sound thrilled him as much as the softness of her skin. He couldn’t get enough of her. Without her—without her wasn’t an option.

He moved but she stopped him and he settled back. She set him on fire with her tentative touch as it traced down his chest to his groin. He covered her hand with his as she stroked him and he gasped in sweet agony. He was at the breaking point.

He wanted to sink deep inside her to chase…no, not to chase anything. He wanted to be deep inside her because without her the world, his world, would spin out of control.

He traced his fingertip across her full lower lip. It was slick and wet as he expected she was. He lowered his mouth to hers but stopped a breath away. The tip of her tongue invited him in and he swept inside. He raised his mouth from her lips and searched her eyes. His tongue made a path from her mouth to her throat then flicked between her breasts. Tenderly he kissed each one. He glanced at her eyes and saw her passion heighten. He pampered her breasts with kisses and tiny nips. His lips teased each nipple and he hardened with each gasp she took.

His hand slid from her firm stomach to the swell of her hips and drew her close to him. Already well aroused, the sound of her throaty voice made him harder still. He needed more than touching. He moved on top of her, nudged her legs apart with his knee and settled between them. His heart pounded and every part of him throbbed with anticipation.

He let her take command, positioning his member at her cleft. Even from there he could feel her warm and wet. He placed his forehead on hers and fought to keep control.

“Love me,” she commanded softly.

He buried himself deep inside her, greedily taking her.

Her arms were tight around him, her hips tipped up to take in all of him. She urged him on, his plan of slow and steady morphed to hard and fast.

“Arik,” she called out urgently.

He increased the pace.

“Arik,” she cried as shudder after shudder pulsed around his member and he climaxed.

His every nerve was filled with wanting. Her every move was rapture. He held her close and rolled over, taking her with him. He settled her on top of him, stroking her back while they both calmed. His world was filled with her.

As he drifted off to sleep he had one thought.

Forever.

“Have you been up long?” Rebeka stretched to get rid of the morning haze. A smile touched her lips as the memory of their evening played over in her mind.

Arik, stretched out next to her, had his hands behind his head and stared at the rafters. “For a while.”

She rested her head on his chest. “We never did have our hot soup.”

The warmth of his smile echoed in his voice. “No, we didn’t. I don’t think Helen was surprised.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

He started to get out of bed but she would have none of that. She straddled him and pushed him back onto the bed. “That will keep you down.”

“Down. Not exactly, if you insist on sitting there.” A sensual smile lit up his face as he ran his hands up her bare sides and across her bare breasts.

She grabbed his hands and held them still. “Not until you tell me. I’ve recently come out of the dark. Please don’t put me back there.” She was certain he was taking great pains to keep something from her. She let go of his hands as he rose and pushed him away. She didn’t want to be close to him, not until he told her what concerned him.

“Joan gave me a parchment to translate.” He stroked her back.

She cuddled next to him. Joan had told her. So, what was the big deal? “Yes, she told me. She didn’t think it belonged with the herbal codex.”

“She was right. It’s from a druid text.” His hand, running up and down her back, stopped.

She forced herself to be patient. “I wonder why it was with my father’s papers. I gave it to Joan. She needed some information about herbs for her thesis.”

“Max. Of course. No wonder I had difficulty getting through the enchantment.”

She leaned over, grabbed the sheet and tucked it in around herself. “What did it say?”

“The document is an accounting of the portal.” He stared across the room at the runes. “There are consequences to time travel. I knew there would be but they didn’t matter.” He held her close. “All that mattered was finding you.”

She touched his chest. Under her hand the steady beat of his heart sped up. It didn’t soothe her anxiety. “We’ll face the consequences together,” she told him gently. “We’re both affected.”

“The portal holds the travel information. It knows where you started and where you need to be returned. But it must be the same portal. No other.”

“Yes, I understand.”

She started to say something but he raised his hand.

“Let me finish. I adjusted the last portal to leave a special passage for you. I wanted you to be able to return here.” He held her close. “That’s the portal you were in. When the enchantment shattered it closed the portal forever. Even I can’t open it. I didn’t anticipate this.”

“You said you came through the scrying mirror. What else did you find?” she demanded quietly.

“Yes, I used the scrying mirror and I planned to use it for us to return. But that way back is no longer open.” He was quiet. “We can’t go back,” he said, his voice hushed with little emotion.

She pulled away from him. Her heart was pounding. “But, Arik, if you came through the mirror you can go back.” Her mind tumbled with a hundred ideas.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he snapped at her then regretted his outburst. He held her to his chest. “The way is closed.” His voice was a choked whisper.

She pulled off the sheet and rummaged for her clothes, desperate to do something, anything.

He hurried out of bed and held her by her shoulders. “Where are you going?”

“You shouldn’t have come for me. Now, you can’t return.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “What have I done?” She couldn’t look at him knowing the pain she’d caused.

He lifted her chin but she pulled her face away. “I’m not sorry to be here. Look at me.” He lifted her face. “Nothing is more important to me than you. Nothing.” He dropped his hands.

“You say that now but will you feel the same when you realize that you can never go back, never see Logan and the others.” She scanned around the small room searching for something, anything to change the situation. She saw the runes and whipped around at him. “You wrote me a love song,” she said, grabbing his arms. “Together we’ll write another. We’ll keep searching.” Her voice was firm and final. They stood in silence staring at the runes.

Reworking the formula wouldn’t work. He had used his magick to adjust the portal for her to return here. There was no way for her to go back without either dying or being lost between times forever.

Her heart squeezed tight. What then? “You’ll grow to hate me,” she whispered.

“I could never—”

“I’ve taken you from everything you’ve loved and worked for—”

“No.” He held her chin with the crook of his forefinger. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted. I came after you by choice. And I would do it again knowing the outcome.”

She wished she could believe him. Maybe he would love her now, maybe even for the next few years, but would he still love her when he realized what she had cost him?

He wiped her tears away with a softness that comforted her. Comforted her? He was the one who’d lost everything. No, they both had. She was beaten and defeated. How could she ever forgive herself?

“We have a lifetime together. Besides, I would miss the hot shower and the motorbike.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. She let out a forced laugh.

She searched for her clothes and found them in a pile on the floor, still damp. She pulled a towel around her. “I better go to my room before anyone sees me like this. Towels are not in fashion this year.”

“I want you in my bed.”

“Right now?” She chuckled and stretched on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss. “Later, definitely later.” His slow smile took her breath away.

“You’re my wife and I want you in every sense of the word. But I won’t compromise your position or your reputation. We’ll marry.”

She blinked, stunned by his statement. “That’s not necessary. In this century many couples live together and don’t get married.”

He stroked her face with his knuckles. “Beka,” he whispered. “In my century I married you. I love you and will marry you again in this one. You are my heart. Marry me.”

She gave him kisses—soft, gentle ones at first that gathered in urgency. They were on the bed and she didn’t remember how she got there. “We won’t get to breakfast.”

“I certainly hope not.” He kissed each bare space as inch by inch he pulled her towel off.

“A toast.” George and Arik raised a glass of wine at Autumn Chase. “To the bridegroom.” He sipped champagne. “I’m certain the bride looks radiant,” he continued over his lunch. “Does this have anything to do with the document Joan asked you to translate five days ago?”

Arik picked at his salmon. “The document is an accounting of the portal.” He rested his elbows on the table and clasped his hands. He had reconciled that they both would be staying. It hadn’t been a hard decision.

There had been no decision. He wouldn’t leave her. But if he had known he would never return he would have… It wasn’t worth thinking about that now. He had to move forward. They had to move forward.

“I told Rebeka when I sealed the portal I left one opportunity for her to return here. That part is true. I told her there was one other way, the scrying mirror, and that I had used it to find her.” He unclasped his hands, took his fork and picked at the salmon. “I also told her that way was no longer open to us.”

George’s fork clattered onto the plate. “That’s not true.”

“No, it’s not.” He pushed a piece of potato around his plate. He wasn’t at all hungry.
Faith
. He was still trying to grasp what had happened. “But as far as Rebeka is to know, there is no way back.” He put his fork on his plate. “The papyrus documents the portal magick.” He stared at his plate not wanting to give voice to the truth. “When I adjusted the portal, it was for one trip.” He glanced at George. “The magick is tied to her. If she tries to move through time again she…won’t survive.”

“She’s a great sorceress. She
will
not survive or
may
not survive? There’s a big difference.”

“Sorceress or not, the magick is tied to her. I won’t take that risk.” He took a large swallow of champagne, the only thing on the table that tempted him.

“You’re the Grand Master. You can conjure something.” Did George think he hadn’t considered that?
Breathe.
He relaxed his viselike grip on the wine goblet before he snapped the crystal.

“Don’t you think I’ve gone over the document, taken apart each Grand Master’s writings and tried to find a solution?” He ran his hand through his hair. He had tried everything.

George stared at him. “Isn’t this Rebeka’s decision?” The question hung in the air unanswered.

Arik took the napkin on his lap and placed it on the table. “What do you expect me to do? Let her be lost in oblivion forever? Or worse, torn to shreds? I won’t let that happen. I will protect her.” He pounded his fist on the table. He leaned back and regained his composure. “I told her I wasn’t willing to give up my motorbike or hot shower. She said I was quite amusing.” His tight expression relaxed into a weak smile. “Bran must’ve known about the portal’s restrictions. At first I assumed he gained nothing, but I see I’m his target. I either lose Logan and the others, or I lose Rebeka. No solution is…ideal.”

“We can search for a solution,” George said. Arik stared at his plate. George played his sounding board, his conscience and his second. There wasn’t anyone else he could trust with this information. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“No, it’s not.” Arik’s strong, commanding voice turned into a whisper in defeat. He and Rebeka would mourn not returning but they would help each other adjust. “But we’re looking forward to our wedding.”

“You’d better not tell Cora. She plans all the events for The Retreat. She’ll have your wedding planned before the day is out.” George gave Arik a smile.

“What shouldn’t you tell me?” Cora came in and kissed her brother on the forehead. “What are you two up to?” She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a seat.

“The portal was destroyed and cannot be repaired. There’s no way for Rebeka and I to return.” Arik kept eating as if he had given Cora the weather report, sunny with no chance of returning.

A bewildered Cora stared back at him. She glanced at her brother. “George, is that possible? I mean, there must be some way.” She faced Arik. “Have you told Rebeka?”

“Yes, we’ve discussed it at length.” He raised his wineglass and tried to smile. “We’ve both reconciled with staying.”

“What will you do?” He’d never seen Cora flustered. Her head kept swiveling from him to George.

“Do? We’ll continue on as we have been these past weeks, making the manor self-sufficient. Rebeka has her teaching.” He glanced over the rim of his glass at Cora. “I’ve asked her to marry me.” He took a sip of his wine.

Cora stared at the two men, tongue-tied.

“Aren’t you interested in her response?” George teased.

“George, stop tormenting the woman.” He faced Cora. Disbelief, that’s what he saw on her face. “She said yes. We want to get married as soon as possible. I planned we’d get married next weekend before she changed her mind. A seventeenth-century wedding would be appropriate.” He saw the emotion in Cora’s tear-filled eyes.

“We’re grateful to you and George for all that you’ve done. No one foresaw this. But Cora, we’re not unhappy with the outcome.” Cora gave him a forced smile and a tense nod. He hoped he was convincing.

“Regarding the proclamation,” George said. Arik nodded and cast an eye at Cora. She was speechless. It was a lot to absorb at one time and they shouldn’t tease her but she was a good sport.

“Have you gotten any closer to finding it? I’m surprised Louise hasn’t been more vocal about it.” Cora was sputtering. George tried to hide his smile behind his luncheon napkin.

“We’re still searching. We’ve almost exhausted all the old documents we have in the library and estate office. Rebeka thinks it may be wise to search in the historical records in Chippenham.” Arik was certain Cora would burst any moment.

“Next weekend. You want to get married next weekend. That isn’t much time. George, you’ll have to arrange for a special license. I’ve got to speak to Rebeka.” Cora got up from the table.

“No, it’s not much time. To the Fayne Manor guests it will appear like a part of the reenactment. The staff, you and George will of course know.” She looked from Arik to her brother.

“Men—what do you know? You think it just happens.” He believed she was about to stamp her foot in protest. Instead she left the room mumbling.

“Cora?” Rebeka answered her cell phone. “Thank you…Yes, I’m very happy…Arik is quite certain…Well, additional research wouldn’t hurt…I’m telling Louise before I let anyone else know…Don’t be silly, Cora. Why would she be upset?…Someone has to tell her…No, not Arik…She’ll be here in an hour…Bye.” Rebeka ended the call and put the phone on the library table.

She read the herbal document for the third…or was it the fourth time? Concentration escaped her. She didn’t take defeat easily. Perhaps after they dealt with Bran they could search for a way back.

Arik had been gone when she woke this morning. They had decided that he should tell George and Cora right away.

What was she thinking when she volunteered to tell Louise? The sole reason she was telling the woman was because of the tenuous situation with the Trust. Nobody wanted to jeopardize that. She’d called and had to leave a message. She looked at the document and for the fifth time—yes, it was definitely the fifth time—she cleared her mind and continued to translate the herbal codex Joan had been working on.

“Rebeka?”

Louise entered the room and hooked her thigh on the edge of the desk.

“Yes?” Had it been an hour already? She’d have to give this back to Joan to translate. Her mind was elsewhere.

“I’m on my way to London and can’t stay long. Your message sounded urgent.” Louise managed a smile.

“I wanted to tell you that Arik and I are getting married. We didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else.” Rebeka searched the woman’s eyes for any hint of emotion.

Louise’s smile broadened but it didn’t reach her eyes. “What wonderful news. I knew you were interested in him. And here I assumed you were calling about the proclamation.”

She decided to ignore her comment. They had fifteen days.

“We’ve decided to have the wedding here at the manor.”

“What a wonderful idea. Let me know if you need anything.” Louise got up to leave. “No hard feelings, my toying with him.”

“Not at all.” She saw Louise to her car.

“I expect an invitation to the wedding.” The olive branch offering registered with Rebeka but there were other things on her mind right now.

“Of course.” Rebeka stepped away and Louise drove off.

She had gotten as far as the manor door when the roar of the Triumph’s engine and the spatter of the gravel on the manor drive interrupted the quiet morning. She stopped and watched Arik get off the motorbike.

The smooth jeans over his trim hips and the tight T-shirt thrilled her. She considered it his bad-boy look.

But he would look wonderful in soft slacks and a silk shirt.

On second thought, she wasn’t willing to make him that civilized or give up her medieval knight, not yet. She grew warm at the idea.

“Like a good wife, waiting for me at the castle door.” He came up the porch steps and kissed her forehead.

“Hard day at the office?” They went into the Great Hall arm in arm.

“I have good news.”

“I’ll wait like a dutiful wife.”

“As you should.” His gave her a secret smile, the one that curled her toes. “George is taking care of everything and getting us a special license. We’ll be married by next weekend. I think you should be prepared for Cora. She’s already making plans.”

She gave him a devilish grin. “I know. I spoke to her earlier. There’s a lot to do. Did you pass Louise on your way here? She left a few minutes ago. Don’t look so disappointed.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He took her in his arms and kissed her.

“Lovely. The color is perfect with your eyes. Where did you find the gown?” Cora put the finishing touches on Rebeka’s dress.

“I bought it in New York when I attended the Society for Medieval Studies symposium three years ago. It was an extravagance but I fell in love with it.” Excited as if she were a new bride, she primped in front of the full-length mirror. Cora and Helen had taken care of every detail. The manor was buzzing with anticipation.

The long mauve silk dress had a plunging neckline that was framed with small crystals. The long sleeves tapered to a point over the top of her hand, giving it a medieval styling. The bodice was a snug fit to her hips where the skirt fell in a natural drape close to her legs and finished in a tulip flare at the floor. The skirt was sprinkled with small crystals that swept down the front and swirled to the right into a trail along the hem. It was enough to make the dress glitter as she walked. She wore strappy silk heels that made it appear as if she had no shoes on at all.

A twisted rope of silver and crystals banded across the top of her head appeared like a crown. Her long hair was swept up and held in place with two large, well-hidden combs.

“I hope he likes it,” she said quietly. She was excited now as she was last August when she dressed for her wedding reception. Logan had walked her down the stairs, Arik waiting for her at the bottom.

They could be happy here. He would run the manor, she would have her teaching. It would work. It had to work.

Oh, Great Mother, make it work.

Cora’s face, from over her shoulder, stared back at her in the mirror. “He’ll see no one else, I assure you. You’re a beautiful bride.” Finally, Cora put a fine net veil in place.

“There, you’re all ready.” She turned to Cora and saw the tears in her eyes. “You look like a princess but I knew you would. Where’s George? He said he would be here to take you downstairs.”

“I’m right here,” George said from the other side of the door that was ajar. Cora pulled open the door. “I was about to knock.”

“Good, then I’ll go downstairs.” Cora stepped out of the way.

Rebeka stood in the center of the room ready to leave.

“Lovely. I can’t wait to see his face.” He gave her one last look and hesitated. “You are as dear to me as Cora. I’m honored you asked me to give you away. If ever you need me, know that I’m here for you, for both of you.” He led her down the stairs.

“I don’t know what to say…”

“We each have our duties. Mine was to see you safe with Arik. I assumed my reward would be the completion of that mission but it has been much more. It’s the deep friendship that we’ve made. I would miss you both if you returned. Selfishly, I’m glad you’re staying.”

“You and Cora are more than good friends. You’ve both been like family to me. You must know I feel the same.” She squeezed his hand.

They were at the doorway to the Great Room.

The room was filled with the manor students, staff and members of the National Trust. Angus came from Oxford, as did other scholars who were her father’s friends. Guests enjoying a day at the manor were also there.

She scanned the room and breathed a sigh of relief—Louise was missing.

At the far end of the room, Arik stood on the raised platform with the major. Alf Lacey and some of his friends stood to the side. A small drum started the beat and a mandolin played softly in the background. The murmur of voices stilled and the crush of people parted as she came in on George’s arm.