Immortal Desires (Well of Souls) (10 page)

The door banged open and she toppled back onto the bed in confusion. Ian strolled toward her, his movements graceful and unhurried.

"Don't you ever knock?" Her ire kicked up a notch at his arrogance.

"'Tis my home. I'll go where I please." He stepped in front of the bed and gazed down at her but didn't come any closer. Deanna's heart thudded as she struggled to keep her eyes away from his lips. "We have unfinished business. Are you ready to tell me who sent you here?"

"I already told you what happened. No one sent me." Deanna sat up, suddenly aware that she'd been lying across the bed like a woman waiting to be ravished. "I can't imagine what your betrothed sees in you. You're stubborn and pig-headed, never listening and always thinking you're right. Well, she's welcome to you. I wouldn't take you if you were tied up with a bow on your head."

"A bow on my head? What does that mean? I'm no betrothed. You speak in riddles, lass."

Deanna watched the furrow in his brow deepen as he studied her like she'd gone off the deep end. The girl must have had some reason to say that to her, though. "Okay, your girlfriend. Maybe you're not betrothed yet, but she seems to think so."

"What are you blethering about?" Ian ran a hand through his hair then crossed his arms over his chest. "Who told you this?"

"She didn't give me a name. Wild copper hair and a bitchy attitude. She told me to stay away from you—which won't be a problem."

Ian snorted. "Alyth. She's no my betrothed, or anything else but a pain in my backside. Alyth was betrothed to Alec. Now she thinks I owe her the honor."

"Why would she think that? Who's Alec?" Deanna was interested in spite of herself.

Ian's eyes grew dark but he remained silent. Deanna shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, realizing she'd asked the wrong question but not understanding why. She tried changing the subject.

"I need to hold your brooch. It's the only way I can think of to get back to my own time. Would you please let me try?"

He snapped out of his trance. "Nay. That brooch stays locked up." Ian turned and walked back to the door. When he reached it, he paused for a moment and looked back at her.

"Alec was my brother." With that, he left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Chapter Nineteen

A falcon soared overhead and Ian watched as it dove at the ground, gracefully snatching its prey. He envied the majestic hunter—free to do as it pleased without mixed emotions to batter its soul.

What was he to do with this Cameron woman? His mother still insisted the lass had naught to do with the Camerons of Achnashellach. Her story of time travel wasn't beyond reason either. As a Druid, Ian understood the power of unseen forces and magic. It still didn't explain her purpose for being here, though. He didn't believe in accidents.

Deanna… She had a nice name. Mayhap if he called her that and quit thinking of her as 'that Cameron woman' his head would clear and he'd discover more about her. Or he'd be drawn further into the emotional muddle he seemed entangled in….

The Cailleach. He'd take Deanna to see the Goddess of Winter who lived within the standing stones, though the risk was great. Some believed she practiced dark magic, while others insisted she was Fae. Either way, it had to be done. Ian couldn't penetrate the magic surrounding the Cam—Deanna. He owed it to his clan to discover if she came to harm them. He owed it to himself, for he wanted her in a way he'd never experienced before and it worried him, even as his lust rose each time he laid eyes on her.

"I'm taking the lass to see the Cailleach," he told Tomas and Munro as he gathered supplies for the journey. "See to things while I'm gone, aye? We shouldna be more than a sennight."

"Do you need some company?" Munro asked with a grin. "I find the lass verra charming."

"Nay." Ian chopped one hand in the palm of the other. "Dinna you have a home to go to?"

Munro gave him one of his barrel-chested laughs that boomed through the confines of the stables. "My son is managing the clan quite well. I think I'll stick around and see how this turns out. Besides, I told Mairi I'd be here for her wedding."

"Suit yourself." Ian turned to Tomas. "Try to keep our friend out of trouble."

Tomas clapped him on the shoulder. "Aye, I'll try but it willna be so easy. You know trouble follows him."

The three friends laughed, then Munro sobered and locked eyes with him. "Take care and come back safe—the both of you."

Ian nodded, grateful for good friends and family. "That is my intention."

***

Right after the midday meal, Ian announced their trip to Deanna. The vixen refused to go with him. "You will go, one way or another, even if I have to tie you to your horse."

"Horse? I don't know how to ride a horse."

Ian stared at her. She seemed more panicked by the horse than going somewhere alone with him. "Dinna you have horses where you come from?"

"Yes, some people have horses for recreation but we don't use them for transportation. We have cars and planes that fly in the air to take us places."

Ian struggled with her unfamiliar words. Her lips were held in a smirk as she gazed at him. He decided she must be joking and called her bluff. "Then you'll ride with me."

He watched her tremble but her blue eyes blazed at him. "And if I refuse?"

"I can turn you out, condemn you as a spy, send you back to your clan—any manner of things that might be verra unpleasant for you. All I'm asking is for you to take a short trip with me. If you've been telling the truth about your origins, it will be revealed. Have you been honest about it?"

"Yes, damn you to hell. I'll go." Her bottom lip jutted out and Ian wanted to draw it into his mouth and suck. She must taste like honey.

"Such words from a lady." He grinned at her passion, even if right now it was turned in anger toward him.

"When do we go?"

"Right now." He saw her cheeks grow pale but she didn't say anything, only nodding while refusing to look at him. It should be an interesting trip.

***

Deanna eyed the horse—although it looked more like a shaggy pony to her—with trepidation. It turned its head toward her and bared its teeth. She didn't know if it was smiling or wanting to take a bite out of her. Did horses smile? She had no idea.

Ian tied the reins of the second horse to his, then mounted, hauling her up in front of him in one fluid motion. The ground seemed far away and she had nothing to hold onto except his muscular thighs…thighs that were currently molded tight against her behind. Sweet mother of earth, how was she supposed to ignore the heat of his body pressing into her hips? Deanna's heart hammered out a tune of longing as something hard nudged her spine.

He held the reins in one practiced hand while his other arm slid across her belly in a slow movement meant to be noticed.

"Lean back against me," his voice breathed in her ear, caressing her neck with a sultry breeze. "I willna let you fall."

Deanna did so, forgetting that she'd meant to stay angry with him. The gentle sway of the horse rocked his erection against her back with each step as they passed through the portcullis and out into the open countryside. His thigh muscles tightened beneath her hands as he locked his knees against the sides of the horse. Her mind wandered, imagining her hands running up beneath the kilt and trailing her fingers across bare skin.

"Are you planning to unclothe me?" A low chuckle brought Deanna back to her senses. Her hands had clutched wads of tartan, hiking it up by several inches. Embarrassed, she moved her hands and folded them in her lap.

"You wish," she replied tartly. "I'm nervous about riding the horse."

He didn't make any more comments so Deanna slowly relaxed back into him again, enjoying the breeze at her face that helped cool her off. A flash of one of her dreams floated through her memory; the one of him kissing her in the moonlight while standing in the heather, wearing the same tartan he wore now. Had it been precognition and not a dream?

"How long until we get there?" She felt him shrug against her back as his arm hugged her closer to him.

"On the morrow."

"Tomorrow? You didn't tell me that!" Deanna glanced over at the second horse, noticing the bags of provisions and blankets for the first time. She groaned inwardly. How was she going to survive the nights out here in the wilderness—with him?

Chapter Twenty

"You tricked me!" Deanna crossed her arms, her shoulder blades poking him in the chest.

"I didna trick you. Do you see anything close out here?" He waved his free hand across the open countryside and felt her bobble, grabbing at his thighs like she thought she'd fall. He'd never let that happen but put his arm back around her so she'd feel safe. Her wee hands felt good on his legs and Ian was happy that she kept them there.

"I guess not. I'm not used to so much empty space without a fast way to travel through it."

They were passing through a wild tangle of alder trees, heading south along the River Naver. Ian listened to the rustle of new leaves sprouting from the dark gray bark, enjoying the solitude and not thinking it empty at all.

"Tell me about the way you travel." Maybe if she talked for a while, Deanna would relax more. It might help him push past that magic curtain she had cloaked about her.

As she started describing her century, Ian found most of it impossible to believe. Giant metal birds with five hundred people sitting in its belly? Ridiculous. Her voice had a pleasant cadence to it though, so he dismissed the words and listened on a deeper level.

Fleeting images came to him of Deanna in a different place—not much, but enough to see she told the truth of not being from this time. Tall buildings that reflected the sun rose high in the air; people dressed in clothing similar to what she'd arrived in crowded around her. Paved streets with blinking lights and metal things racing by too fast to get a good look at assaulted his senses.

One particular image puzzled him more than the rest—a tartan in his clan colors. He strove to hold onto that thought, working to clear the fuzziness surrounding it.

His hand jerked on the reins and the horse reared back. Deanna screamed and tried to turn towards him, her eyes wide and inches from his face. Without thinking, Ian leapt to the ground, dragging her with him. He cushioned her fall as they landed in a clump of heather.

Her body felt soft as she lay panting on top of him, the roundness of her breasts pushing toward his face as she struggled to get up. Ian held her tighter, rolling over to pin her underneath him.

Despite being scared, the vixen tried to bring her knee up and crush his manhood, but her skirts tangled and hampered her efforts. Ian shifted his weight so she couldn't succeed on a second try.

"Get off me." Her blue eyes held daggers within their depths, her voice as frigid as the north wind.

He grinned and got up, although it took all his willpower to do so. Ian wanted nothing more than to trail heated kisses over every inch of her soft skin; to bury his cock deep inside her as Deanna begged for sweet release.

"What was wrong with the horse?" She stared at the animal placidly grazing a few feet away without a care in the world.

"Mayhap he saw a snake."

"Snake? Where?" Deanna skittered closer to him as she searched the ground.

"Dinna worry. It would be gone now." He helped her back up on the horse, not about to admit why it had reared. The vision of himself worshiping at the feet of Deanna's naked body had been so strong he'd jerked the reins in reflex, startling the horse.

Deanna was quiet as they rode on, giving him time to mull over the portent he'd seen. In the vision, Ian hadn't witnessed his own face but he glimpsed his tattoo. Was she aware of this vision as well? Would she recognize him once she saw the mark on his arm? He savored the way she had responded to him in that image, wishing she'd do the same now.

Ian glanced at the sky. Only a couple of hours left till the gloaming set in. He wanted Deanna comfortable before that, not stumbling around in the dark. There was a glen not far from here; they'd make camp before the sun set.

***

Deanna studied Ian as he built a small fire, watching his movements while pretending to look elsewhere whenever he glanced her way—which was often. He seemed as fascinated by her as she was of him, though neither would admit it.

She pulled the extra plaid tighter around her shoulders as the sun lowered in the sky and ushered in a chill wind. Ian didn't seem affected by the cool temperature and yanked his shirt off over his head. Deanna admired his muscled back in the firelight, then gasped as she caught sight of his tattoo, rising as if in a trance and taking uncertain steps toward him.

"Do others in your clan wear that tattoo?" Her fingers reached out to trace the pattern but stopped short of touching his arm.

"Nay, only I wear this mark, though others of my clan have different patterns. Why?" He looked interested in her answer and Deanna wasn't sure what to tell him. His eyes sparkled in the light from the blaze as he waited for her to speak.

"I told you once that you haunted my dreams, remember?" At his nod she continued. "I've seen that tattoo before but not the face of the man who wore it."