Redeeming Vows (19 page)

Tatiana didn’t think Grainna would allow them to get far. Grainna didn’t allow anything to happen that she didn’t have power or gain over.

The thought stalled her.

She was a pawn in Grainna’s game. Expendable.

Tatiana pivoted toward the west and inched her way toward the sea cliffs. The ocean crashed upon the shore below, the noise rose above the sound of her breathing, her heart.

Tatiana had suffered her entire life. Her recent visions gave her little hope of any change. She’d had one glimmer of brightness, but the flame quickly faded, leaving her to wonder what the vision meant.

She found a large rock and sat down before crossing her hands over her arms in an attempt to keep some of her warmth. Below her, the image of two people walking caught her eye. Peering closer, she recognized the boy Simon alongside an older woman. His mother, perhaps? Maybe his aunt.

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A sound behind her forced her to her feet. Her breath caught in her chest.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Cian stood within feet of her. His kind face brightened when he recognized her.

“I-I’m… I shouldn’t be here.”

Cian glanced around. “Where is your kin?”

“My family is…” What could she say to avoid suspicion? Grainna was her only family now. And not one she truly wanted to claim. “They aren’t acting normal. I don’t know where to turn.”

His strong jaw snapped shut and his gaze shifted to the ground. “Seems the entire camp is under some…”

“Spell?”

“Aye, spell.”

He stepped closer. On instinct, Tatiana retreated.

“I’ll not hurt ye.”

She forced herself to smile, relax. “Do ye mind if I sit here a while?”

“I don’t own the rock,” he said, laughing.

Shifting her skirts, Tatiana seated herself again.

The clouds hid the sunset but the sky turned to a deep amber haze.

“Might I sit with ye?”

“I don’t own the rock, either.”

Cian chuckled before sitting beside her. The warmth of his body caught her by surprise. In years past, the closeness of a man only sent a chill down her spine. Not with him. The coolness of the night drifted away like the sea birds above.

“Is that yer friend from earlier?” Tatiana motioned toward Simon, knowing exactly who he was, but hoping to learn more about the woman with him, and to avoid any uneasy feeling between the two of them.

“Aye. ’Tis his aunt by his side.”

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“Oh.”

“Seems his mother…” Cian abruptly stopped his words. “With all the chaos, he’s finding it difficult to locate his mother.”

“Oh, how horrible.”

“We’ll find her.”

Tatiana glanced his way. His dark hair brushed the edges of his shoulders, his skin the color of honey. His chocolate brown eyes found hers. Heat rose in her cheeks.

“I hope ye do.”

“Do what?”

“Find his mother.”

“Oh,” he managed, distracted by something.

“We’ll find her.”

Tatiana’s mouth grew dry. “’Tis nice to have such confidence.”

“Confidence?” Cian shook his head, his gaze left hers briefly. “I’m sorry. I seem to be distracted.”

“I understand. With all the strange happenings

’tis hard to focus.”

Cian reached his hand out and smoothed a fallen lock of her hair from her face. His hand lingered on her cheek. “’Tis yer face that drives me to distraction. Yer beauty.”

Something inside her started to melt. She knew she wasn’t beautiful, but to hear the words so clearly and with such conviction nearly drove her to believe them.

“I’m not a bonny lass.”

“Yer wrong, Tatiana.”

The way he voiced her name made her heart beat faster.

“I-I…” She what? Needed air? The world was filled with air, and yet none seemed to be reaching her lungs.

Cian inched closer. His hand had never left her cheek, and suddenly it seemed to find its way behind 163

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her head. He slid closer to her, his eyes searching hers.

She licked her dry lips.

She should run. Hide. But when his lips met hers, it was too late. His warm touch was both tender and frightening, but oh so wonderful.

He pulled her close, and she noticed the sizzle his hand left in its wake as it slide down her neck.

Tatiana was lost in his arms. Damned in her own mind.

****

“There isn’t.” Selma stretched her hands over her head before checking the time on her watch. Two empty pizza boxes held discarded bits of crust.

Empty soda and beer bottles made the apartment look like they’d had a college party instead of plotting a trip through time.

“It’s after midnight,” Selma informed them.

Liz couldn’t stop her thoughts from shifting to her son. Was he worried that she’d gone and left him? Did he think she was gone from his life forever?

And Grainna, what was she doing to the family?

Liz dropped her head in her hands, suddenly all the weariness of the day catching up with her. Fin’s hand kneaded the taut muscles of her back. Her eyes drifted close as she relaxed into his touch.

“’Tis time to find our rest. Perhaps tomorrow things will become clearer.”

Her head shot up and her gaze met his. “No, we need to get back.”

“We’ve no idea how, Elizabeth. Sleep will regenerate our minds,” Fin argued, fatigued laced his words.

Shaking her head resulted in Fin pulling her closer to his side. “Stop. I’m anxious to return as well—”

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She moaned, “Simon—” The mention of her son’s name from her lips ripped a hole in her heart.

“Simon is safe with our family. No one would allow Grainna to disturb a hair on his head, lass.”

Fin was right.

Jake kicked off his shoes and folded his arms over his chest.

“I take it you’re not leaving?” Selma glared at the cop. The two of them hadn’t stopped arguing.

They’d continually disagreed throughout the night, setting the tension higher.

“You’ve got that right.”

At least he hadn’t forced them to the police station. Liz had to give him credit for that. Yet, no matter how many times Fin proved his gifts to the man, Jake refused to believe in time travel.

Selma rolled her eyes and mumbled something under her breath. “I’ll crash in Simon’s room.”

Liz nodded and reached for Fin’s hand as they stood and headed for her room. Once alone, Fin removed his sword and allowed it to lie beside her bed. He cocked his head to the side and studied the lamp. His kilt brushed below his knees, his muscular arm reached out to touch the hot glass. Before she could shoot out a warning about the light being hot, Fin drew his fingers back.

Liz wondered what his thoughts were. Did he wonder about everything in the room? The digital clock on the nightstand blinked, the time completely wrong. There must have been a power outage. Or maybe the landlord cut it off at some point.

At one time she’d thought this room was big, but with Fin standing in it, she realized how small it really was. She was used to seeing the man surrounded by twenty-foot tall ceilings, rooms a horse could ride into, and fireplaces a small person could stand upright inside. Liz realized just how out 165

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of place he was in this time. He was all things Scottish, all things Highlander. He didn’t belong in L.A. Fin must have felt her eyes boring into him because when he turned, a small smile sat firmly on his lips.

Pivoting, Liz scrambled to find a nightgown.

Heat flushed in her face.
What will he wear to bed?

Where the hell did the shyness come from? It wasn’t at all like her.

“I’ll go change,” she managed, before slipping through the door and making her way to the bathroom down the hall.

Liz turned the water on cold and splashed her warm face. She hadn’t had time to process her and Fin’s intimacy before everything blew up in their faces. How was she supposed to act? What did he expect? Never for a moment did she think they wouldn’t share her bed. The thought of him sleeping on the couch made her chuckle. He simply wouldn’t fit. Not to mention how empty she’d feel without him by her side right now.

Fin was her connection to the past, to where Simon was alive and well. Somewhere deep in the far reaches of her mind, Liz knew if she couldn’t see or touch Fin, she’d wonder if everything that had happened was a nothing more than a bad dream.

She’d awake in the morning and expect Simon to be bouncing around in the kitchen and getting ready for school. Okay, maybe not school since it was summer, but still…

Liz opened the medicine cabinet and found a toothbrush. The toothpaste was hard at the cap, but with a little influence, Liz managed to bead a strip of minty fluoride on the brush and gave into a decent cleaning of her teeth.

After wiggling into a soft satin nightgown, she made her way back to her room. Light from the 166

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kitchen tossed a shadow on Jake’s frame. He’d positioned himself on the couch and had moved the chair in front of the door. Like they’d leave. The man didn’t get it. They had nowhere to go.

Inside their room, Fin’s sword was within arm’s reach. The broad expanse of his naked chest brought a ripple of pleasure down her neck. She remembered how good it felt to touch, to smell, to taste. His kilt sat on the dresser. She shivered.

“What is that you’re wearing, love?” His husky voice rumbled in the room.

“It’s a nightgown.” Why was her mouth so dry?

“Gown? It doesn’t reach your knees.”

Liz glanced down at her nightclothes. “We still call them nightgowns, even if they don’t reach the floor.”

Liz forced her eyes to his. His brow lifted in amusement. But it disappeared quickly. “Did you walk by that man wearing only that?”

“What man?”

“Jake?”

“He’s in the living room.”

“But he could have seen you.”

Liz felt her shoulders start to shake. This was rich. Fin was worried about another man’s eyes on her body. “I don’t think he noticed.”

“The hell he wouldn’t. You need to cover yourself when you exit this room.”

Her head fell back with a full-blown laugh.

“Right.”

“I mean it, Elizabeth. I’ll not have any man feast his eyes on what is mine.”

“Yours?”

“Aye. Mine.”

Oh, the gall
. “Listen, just because we’ve...slept together,
once
I might add, doesn’t make me yours.”

Her laughter was gone, and her mouth no longer felt like the Sahara desert.

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Fin’s eyes turned to stone. He flipped off the covers and revealed every asset the good Lord had given him. His cock stood erect, reaching toward his chest.

Liz blinked, forcing her eyes away from him.

She placed a hand on her dresser and caught his reflection in the mirror. He reached her in two strides but didn’t touch her. His breath reached out and stroked her skin. “Shall I prove it?” he whispered close to her ear.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” And never had. What she and Fin shared was chemistry. Hot, fiery chemistry.

Fin stalked behind her, his body so close his heat tickled her nipples into an erect state. “You are mine,” he said before his lips found the top of her shoulder.

Her head tilted to the side by only an inch. His tongue caressed her skin before giving her a quick nip with his teeth.

The inner folds of her sex liquefied instantly.

His hands hadn’t even touched her yet, and she was ready to fall on her back and open up for him to sink into. God, she was pathetic. “I’m not yours, Finlay.”

Her words held no conviction. They fluttered out, weak, meaning nothing.

She watched him through the mirror. His fingers feathered up her bare arms until they found the thin strips of her nightgown and eased them over her shoulders. It fell to the floor and left her completely bare. Liz closed her eyes and held her breath.

With only his fingertips, Fin guided his touch over her back and down her hips. Heat built and trickled down her spine, settling between her legs.

As if sensing her need, his palm reached around her body and flattened against her quivering stomach.

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She held perfectly still, desperate to convince him she wasn’t affected. Her hand gripped the dresser painfully.

“Are you still denying you’re mine, love?”

She swallowed hard and gave a quick nod. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Only his arm around her waist, and his hand tempting the tender flesh of her abdomen, touched her, but she burned from the heat of his body. She knew if she inched back, even a little, she’d feel his erection press against her skin.

Fin’s hand slipped lower, brushed against the hair nestled between her legs. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting. One long finger sank into her wet flesh, her mouth dropped open.

“You can pretend all you want, Elizabeth, but your body does not lie.” His fingers slid over her swollen clit, forcing a groan from her lips.

Fin moaned and pressed his body to hers.

She couldn’t take it. Her hips bucked forward, reaching into his touch, her head fell back on his shoulder. Her body swelled and tingled with each touch, each caress. His other hand came up and cupped her breast. She wanted to cry out but remembered the other people in the apartment.

“Open your eyes,” he demanded.

She couldn’t. She knew he’d be watching them in the mirror. He’d force her to see just how much control he had over her. “No.”

His fingers sliding in and out of her sex, forcing her desire to build, stopped. She wanted to weep and beg him to continue.

“Open your eyes, love.” This time his words sounded more like a plea than a demand.

Her lids fluttered open. She noticed both her hands grasping the top of the dresser, her knuckles white with strain.

Fin flicked her sex with his hand and pulled her back into his arms. When she met his gaze, she 169

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didn’t see the triumph she expected. Instead, his eyes melted in a pool of softness. Something she couldn’t identify. Something she’d never seen from him before.